After you read this, you may not regard your toothbrush in the same way. Do you recall several seasons ago on the TV show “Big Brother” when one of the house-guests, miffed at another, took his toothbrush and used it to clean the toilet before putting it back in the holder? Well, what I learned was not that gross. But I get ahead of myself, and once again my BH (Better Half) proved right, and I am now glad she was.

Let me take you back a few months to the holiday season when my BH presented me with a gift. I first thought of it as being an eccentricity, just another quirky stocking stuffer to be used once then stored on the shelf next to the bread baking machine, super juicer and pasta maker. It was accepted with a “Thank you, it was just what I wanted,” and a smile knowing full well there was going to be a forthcoming visit to our storage room.

She knew that several decades ago my dentist told me that I was a candidate for periodontal disease (I since learned an estimated 80 percent of American adults have some form of the disease). It seemed my gums were exhibiting the red flag of inflammation and had deep pockets (no, not the kind meaning vast wealth but the gap between teeth and gum that harbors the nasty bacteria that cause the distress). After the deep-cleaning, called scaling, and root planing together with a re-education on better dental and oral hygiene, I maintain a nightly regimen to keep the pearly whites. The choppers have a long way to go before they need replacement and the use of Polident.

My activity consisted of eight steps, until recently. Indeed, from initial dental water jet to final tongue scraper takes a lot longer than the two-minute brushing and flossing as recommended by dentists. I am a virtual “Adrian Monk” (the obsessive-compulsive TV detective) in front of the bathroom mirror.

Now there is an added ninth step.

In the May issue of Prevention magazine, it states the worst place for your toothbrush is on the bathroom sink. The article quotes germ expert Chuck Gerba, PhD, a professor of environmental microbiology at the University of Arizona, “When you flush, aerosolized toilet funk is propelled as far as 6 feet, settling on the floor, the sink and your toothbrush. ‘Unless you like rinsing with toilet water, keep your toothbrush behind closed doors in the medicine cabinet or a nearby cupboard’” The piece further stated, “There are 3.2 million microbes per square inch in the average toilet bowl.”

After reading this, I scurried to the shelf in the storage room and cleaned the gift of three months of settled dust.

My thoughtful BH had given me a VIO, a toothbrush sanitizer that uses Ultra-Violet light to destroy micro-organisms. This ninth step now resides in the beneath-the-sink cabinet. I sleep sounder knowing that the 10-minute eerie blue glowing light that shuts itself off has aided in thwarting the harmful bacteria lurking in the air and living on my toothbrush.

You, dear reader, are now duly apprised of what lies in wait in the confines of your bathroom, so be ever vigilant. Monk, who pours boiling water over his toothbrush, would be proud of you.

Speaking of toothbrushes, it is said that the credit for its invention was a hillbilly. Why, you ask? Because if it was invented by anyone else it would have been called a “teethbrush.” Ouch!

Herb Kandel is an entrepreneur and a former human resources executive who now lives in Fairhope. He can be contacted at hekan@mail.com