I am dentally challenged. Always have been. ‘Special’ in the teeth department. For the first year of my life I had no dental problems at all. It was after that it all started. And continued pretty much my entire life. Fillings, abscesses, extractions, crowns, my mouth is barely my own any longer, so full of amalgam, gold(!!!) and, since the recent implants, titanium. Plus some nice shiny ceramics. My front teeth remain ‘my own’. The yellow ones. All the others, shot to shit or gone and replaced, symptomatic of our disposable world. Plastic bottles, teeth, shoulders…

Thus I am ‘known’ at my dentist’s practice. They have me on speed dial. The place is a 4 minute walk from work and I’ve gone there f’rever. And, sadly, frequently. Not just because my dentist is a gorgeous blonde, but because she is simply the best dentist in the world. Not that that’s particularly hard, most of the others are sadistic mouth-drillers and cash-hungry torturers. (Well that’s dentist done then, which profession should I ‘analyse ’ next?).

And last night I had an appointment for… an extraction!!! You know, tie a bit of string round the tooth, attach other end to the door and SLAM! Job done. Though Dr Katharina refused my offer of the string I’d brought along because she wanted to do it more scientifically. She pumped sufficient local anaesthetic in to numb an elephant. And yet it didn’t numb my mouth sufficiently. So she put some more in, this time using a hose-pipe attachment rather than the syringe. Ahhhh, that should do it. But it didn’t. For some reason everything from my nose to my testicles was numb, except the fucking tooth in question. Though we were both bored by that point, and keen to get home, so she yanked it anyway.

There was blood. Most of which I managed to carefully get on my pillowcase and bedsheets last night, to avoid having to spit it into the sink. That was a result.

And now I’m better. Another day, another medical drama. Bring on old age!!! (Shoot me now)

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx