Forecasts estimate that dental tourism will grow almost twice as much as medical tourism in the next 10 years. Healthcare analysts at Future Market Insights suggest that the demand of patients travelling abroad to have their teeth fixed will attain a 13.6% compound annual growth rate from 2024 to 2034.
This means there will be an explosion in ‘priest collar’ smiles (a term credited to one of my wittier patients), which is highly likely to go hand-in-hand with a delayed surge in remedial dental treatments to service these overly extensive treatments.
Do patients really understand what they are paying for? Have the alternative, more conservative ways of fixing their teeth been discussed in detail, and what happens in the future (which may well come much quicker than people realise)?
Does something magical happen on the plane to Turkey where all the individuals in a population suddenly morph into having similar oral health that requires practically the same treatment? Why are so many teeth being treated so aggressively?
The answer to the last question is peppered with nasties like premature loss of multiple teeth, endless dental appointments, dentures or gaps if you can’t afford the alternatives and a thumping headache trying to find a dentist.
I find it fascinating to observe in many of the before and after photos on the Turkish dental sites that so many patients have received such similar treatment despite their starting points ranging so widely.
Does something magical happen on the plane to Turkey where all the individuals in a population suddenly morph into having similar oral health that requires practically the same treatment? Why are so many teeth being treated so aggressively?
This style of dentistry is like going in for a pedicure and ending up with a foot amputation and prosthetic appendage. Then when things inevitably go south, expecting the pedicurist to perform a foot transplant.
OK, I’ll break this as gently as I can: NHS dentistry is not, in no way, has never and will never have the capacity to rectify the extensive full mouth problems that are hurtling down the pipeline at UK dental tourists.
This week I heard of a Northern Irish man bursting into tears because his bridge broke a few weeks after it was fitted, necessitating a flight back to Turkey to have it sorted out.
There is also a noticeable lack of Turkish dentists sporting their own dental work. Why is this?
One question to ask the dentist abroad is, “If you had my mouth what would you do?” (I’d love to be a fly on the wall to hear this answer).
