Wednesday, March 23, 2011

A few seemingly random things and how they led to bacterial DNA testing

Part 1:

So Rich and I started Atkins at the beginning of the month. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, Atkins is a very low carbohydrate diet that involves massive amounts of cooking and food preparation. And salads. Lots and lots and lots of salads.

I wasn't good at it.

First of all, it really reminded me of those bizarre diets we used to hear about years ago, where people would eat nothing but grapefruit or cabbage or watermelon or something (though it was never, like, French fries or ice cream). You'd eat the same thing meal after meal, day after day, for as long as you could stand it. And with Atkins it's — you guessed it — salad.

Now, I like salad as well as the next person, really I do. But I think expecting someone to eat the same food two meals a day, every day for the foreseeable future is a little excessive. Or unrealistic. Or just tiresome. Plus there's the minor fact that it doesn't take me too terribly long to burn out on salads anyway.* I already knew that. Rich is perfectly satisfied with a salad at dinner every night. I'll go for a few months making them for both of us. Then I'll realize I can't face eating another one, eliminate mine and spend a few months making one for him every night. Then, finally, I'll realize I can no longer even face making them every day, and that's that for a while.

Anyway, I did try Atkins, and did great at breakfast. But then lunchtime rolled around and, even when I did feel like eating it, that salad somehow didn't just magically appear. And when things get busy, I want to be able to leave my desk, make a quick pass through the kitchen and grab something, then get back to work. So salad made the cut for about three days. After that…not so much. Low carb cheese is allowed on Atkins, and I had bought a giant pack of Muenster slices (which only has 1 gram of carbs per slice, just FYI) at Costco, so I'd grab a slice of that, maybe pick up a piece of deli meat if it was handy, and call that good. I'd have sandwich fillings. A bread-less, condiment-less sandwich. And if you're thinking that's not the best, soundest nutrition in the world, you're not wrong. Duh.

So I was eating way too much protein, and not enough of anything else. Times passed. Then I went to the dentist for my regular cleaning.

FYI, not that you asked, but I take rather good care of my teeth. I went through years as a late-teenager and early twenty-something being very scared of dentists, "forgetting" appointments and generally letting my teeth decay (literally). Once I got past that (and thank you Dr. Richard Lazor in San Antonio for helping me overcome my fear), I started being really conscientious about brushing and flossing. I never, ever have much in the way of calculus (tartar) build up. I'm just good that way.

So I went to my appointment, not expecting anything unusual. And, as always, I didn't have much build up. But I had deep, bleeding perio pockets. When it comes to gingival health, a measurement of 3 or less is normal. The checkup before this I had mostly twos with a couple of threes. This time I had a lot of fours, a few fives and a couple of sixes. Big, big difference. My friendly and skilled hygienist was concerned. She pointed out that pockets like that were almost always accompanied by lots of calculus, lots of build up. These weren't. That made her concerned that there was some kind of virulent pathogen (read: bad germs) at work. She told me about a test that would identify whatever bacteria I had in my mouth. It involved taking a saliva sample, sending it to a lab, then getting back the name and classification of my particular, personal flora. It also involved $200, and I don't have dental insurance right now.

To be continued.

*In the interest of full disclosure and presenting a balanced picture, it also doesn't take much chocolate to be plenty for me.

No comments:

Post a Comment