What a Mazda Taught Me About Healthcare

Photos: Courtesy of Suzie Bergman

Dr. Suzie Bergman

Following in the footsteps of a long line of physicians, I took an unexpected detour into dentistry. My journey into the field of temporomandibular disorders (TMDs) began with a life-altering event—a fluke accident involving a little Mazda. As a sophomore in college, the car threw me over a hill and landed on top of me, causing severe damage to my temporomandibular joints (TMJ). Ever since, I’ve lived with chronic pain and jaw dysfunction.

I think of myself as a primary care dentist—someone who cares not only for teeth and gums but for the whole person. Historically, people say they’re “going to the doctor” for medical issues and “going to the dentist” for oral care. But here’s the truth: a dentist, as defined by the American Dental Association, evaluates, diagnoses, and treats diseases, disorders, or conditions of the oral cavity and associated structures, considering their impact on the human body. Doesn’t that sound doctor-like?

One of my favorite quotes is, “Innovation should not be the domain of the few, but the responsibility of the many.” The fragmented way we approach healthcare—treating the body in segments—leaves patients like me, and many of those I treat, feeling unseen and unheard.

As someone who both lives with TMD and treats it, I’ve gained a unique perspective on healthcare. This duality has shaped my career and fueled my passion for advocating for integration in healthcare. While initiatives like Harvard’s Center for the Integration of Primary Care and Oral Health (CIPCOH) show promise, we need more efforts to bring oral health back into the broader healthcare conversation.

Yet, in the United States, we’ve created a divide between medical and dental care. Dental education, electronic health records, and insurance systems are entirely separate from medical systems. Dentists are not just a different kind of doctor; we’re treated as a separate profession altogether.

Stories like hers highlight the urgent need for a healthcare model that bridges gaps and ensures patients receive comprehensive care. My advocacy stems from a deep understanding of the consequences of our segmented system. I believe it’s time to bring the mouth and mind back to the body, creating a truly integrated healthcare model.

Patients are suffering. Change is desperately needed. And together, we can make it happen.

Patients with complex TMD often have overlapping pain conditions, such as fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue syndrome, and irritable bowel syndrome, among others. These conditions demand an interdisciplinary approach involving dentists, physicians, and behavioral health specialists. Yet, the TMJ—the only joint necessary for basic survival tasks like eating and breathing—isn’t even treated by orthopedists, and many effective treatments aren’t covered by insurance.

One patient described her struggle with TMD:

“TMD has affected every aspect of my life: physically, emotionally, financially, psychologically, professionally. It has affected my relationships, my passions, my independence, and, at times, my dignity.”

Stories like hers highlight the urgent need for a healthcare model that bridges gaps and ensures patients receive comprehensive care. My advocacy stems from a deep understanding of the consequences of our segmented system. I believe it’s time to bring the mouth and mind back to the body, creating a truly integrated healthcare model.

Patients are suffering. Change is desperately needed. And together, we can make it happen.