“A report of a non-significant finding.”
Or so I thought.
Throughout our dental undergraduate, a document, nay, bible, ‘Delivering Better Oral Health (DBOH)’ became an essential component of marking schemes. It concisely summarised research to form an evidence-based toolkit, yielding prevention guidance across different patient age groups; 0–3, 3–6, 7 years to young adults, and all adults. That confused me. Why were ‘all adults’ lumped together? My Grandma’s (oral)health needs were certainly different from Mum’s. Anyway, head down — exams to pass!
I tried to envelop myself into clinical dentistry as peers set up their professional Instagram accounts, hosting beautiful before-and-after smiles. Captions containing oral health messages bounced around an echo chamber. I wondered how the public could benefit from such posts? The researcher was forming, and by the end of my degree, it reared its head. Clinical dentistry only applies to those in the dental chair — what about those that can’t access the dentist or, perhaps more interestingly, choose not to?
A Master’s project; an opportunity to combine clinical work and dip my toe into research. Plunged onto an acute stroke ward, I was armed to train the busy staff at SRFT in the art of toothbrushing (and its role in preventing pneumonia, of course). How naive I was. How could the family care more about shaving one-day-old stubble than his oral hygiene regime?! I put myself in their position — their Dad had suffered a catastrophic stroke, their want of some semblance of Dad pre-stroke was undeniable. 33 patients recruited. A report of non-significance, from a statistical aspect, at least.
Still out of my depth, but not undeterred, I climbed out the narrow (research) pool of oral health in stroke patients and dove headfirst into a Ph.D. in dental public health:
Understanding & Improving Oral Health in Older Adults.
Catchy.
Did I mention I can’t swim?
The opener, trying to unpick the core-concept of what it means to be ‘old’. I became entangled in the life course, care pathways, and elements of vulnerability. Fascinating stuff. “Open in New Tab” — I’ll hopefully glance at it later. No time. The literature review is due!
My Ph.D. journey is a blur, an overwhelming feeling that I never knew enough, littered with late nights reading Quora — an online Q&A platform reliant on a wide-range community of people providing opinions to questions — procrastination-heaven!
A couple of chapters on poor dental attendance and risk factor analysis, I came up for air.
I partnered with a U.S. organisation to develop an evidence-based oral health curriculum for community-dwelling older adults, or ‘those ageing in place’ as they called it! We ran workshops alongside other community-engagement activities. I developed true empathy. I no longer sighed at the boiled sweets or flavoured-water option. Will I remember if Woman #4 of Workshop #2 significantly improved her oral health literacy score? No. But I will never forget transcribing her feedback:
W4: “Well, I think that anything we can learn about improving our existence, no matter how long we have been on this earth, is welcome.”
I reflected, maybe Anon. poster on Quora was right. My Ph.D. thesis wasn’t going to change the world. But, it changed me — and perhaps W4, unless she was there for Bingo…
I’d been concerned that research was not moving fast enough, but I was the one who needed to slow down.
Re-calibrate. Break it down.
Back to the fundamentals… of epidemiology, introduction to public health, health promotion theory…
During the MPH, I’m excited to explore topics embedded in those bookmarked tabs. Learning from landmark longitudinal studies to the consequences of small change.
My contribution to DBOH will have to wait.
