A visit to the dentist

Today I visited the Dentist - it was a last minute appointment as I had to change my scheduled appointment because I have a job interview (yay - but another blog I think). Luckily it didn't give me too much time to think about it - I just got up, took the dog for a walk and toddled off to the dentist.

I have to say that this dentist is much nicer than the one I used to visit. He is South African (but aren't all dentist's now) but he is pleasant and very understanding of people's financial situation. It was only a check up but I knew I had broken one of my teeth just before Christmas so that was going to cause a conversation, if nothing else.

I sat in the chair and he began prodding and poking (in a dentist sort of way) and I felt myself literally trying to curling back into myself. Now I don't really like the dentist but have decided that if I want to at least keep a few teeth in my mouth that I need to 'put up with it'. I could taste that metal sweet sort of taste of blood and really wanted to close my mouth (that is unusual for me) and leave - not make a fuss but with confidence. Of course, I didn't - I then tried to take myself off to a happy place - that didn't really work either - I couldn't seem to think of a happy place just a stark white dentist place. Oh Dear.

He looked at my broken tooth and we had a conversation (he had his hands out of my mouth by now), he can fill it but it probably wont do any good as there is not much left to fill, he could take it out but I am really unkeen to loose another tooth as my mouth is starting to getting those funny vertical lines running about a centimetre from my lips (in the places where other teeth have departed my mouth for ever), - note here I don't look totally toothless or anything but I have have six teeth removed, four being my wisdom teeth (say no more) and I do think about it sometimes before smiling at people I don't know. This of course means I smile in a kinda crooked wonky way that is more frightening than smiling and makes people look away quickly with that 'who is this mad woman and why is she growling at me' way.

Or I can have my tooth capped which will cost £199 - a huge amount of money but something I would like to have done. So I explained the above (about keeping whats left of my rotting stones) and that I would have to save up but would like a crown done. He was really nice about, (my old dentist would have made me feel bad for not doing as I was told) and said come back when I had the money, that what was left of the tooth should be OK for now and otherwise just keep looking after them.

So it is over you say - unfortunately not, he went back into my mouth, prodding and poking again and shouting out strange letters and numbers to his assistant. Then he got out that cleaning/drilling sounding thing and cleaning the back of my front teeth, (apparently I need to work harder there to stop the plaque building up). By this time my feet were literally curling, so much so my toes were nearly touching my shins (well slight exaggeration there but you know what I mean). I looked up at his masked face and thought this is like paying for torture and that has never been my thing - I would much rather pay for luxury and pampering.

Then as soon as it began - it was finished. He removed his mask and I rinsed and thanked him (why did I thank him for that torture) and left. After paying the bill £16+ and having some inane conversation with the receptionist (they must have thought - what a strange lady- I left).

I was pleased that I might be able to have a crown (if I can save up), pleased it was over, but mainly pleased that at least we had a conversation and he did treat me like another human being even when he was inflicting pain.

Oh well, don't have to do this again until August (or before if I can save up).

Dix