Glad It’s All Over

Dentist this afternoon for my crown fitting. I intended to read the Non-League Paper in the waiting room, but an elderly gentleman there was in the mood to talk. He opened up by asking if I was a rugby man and saying I looked like a prop forward (objective to self : slim down to a second row), then after reminiscences on his sporting career asked about my accent.

“I’m from Gosport.” That surprised him so I added “I spent time in London and Milton Keynes.” A lady arrived; the man cheerfully welcomed her to join the conversation, and she and I compared notes about how no-one likes going to the dentist. Then my call came. We all wished each other good luck.

I still had to have the retractor put in, and was still lying there with only a vague idea of what was going on while she worked away in my mouth. At a couple of points she seemed to be clipping some device onto my tooth then taking it off again, and I was aware of her fitting something on to the tooth stump, then later applying a green laser beam. But this time it was all over in about twenty minutes. She had me do a gentle bite to check the fit - no problems - and it’s smooth to the tongue. She handed me a box with the moulds in, to keep in case of complications, then gave me my instructions : nil by mouth for 2 hours, and no solid food for 24.

Then it was down to the front desk for the painful part, paying the bill. The lady on reception wanted to book me in for a check-up in January. I stalled her saying I’d get back to her nearer the time. Can’t be telling her now that I’m booked in with an NHS dentist in London for January (yes, London was the nearest that I could find).

And with any luck, that’s the end of that gruelling and costly saga.

Went on to Aldi to stock up on yogurt.