Well, where to start. For a couple of weeks my blog has gone in a very singular direction and I didn’t really have to think too much because I was just relaying a story, my story. And now it’s time to go back to normality and I apologise if my subjects are mundane and dull and it’s just like having a chat with your husband or wife after a day at work (I’m talking to you Mr Octaneflyer…).
Today I went to the dentist (you can already see this isn’t going to be inspiring stuff) for the first time in many many years. I’ve never really had any problems with my teeth other than the fact that to me they look particularly hideous. I smile with my mouth closed usually. They could be worse, of course, I’m not as bad as, say, Austin Powers, but he’s a fictional character created by Americans (OK a Canadian) who think that all English people have a mouth full of pegs like, well, like the methadone queue at HMP Bronzefield. I don’t have a mouthful of teeth like Janet Street Porter, or a mouthful of no teeth like Shane MacGowan, but that doesn’t mean to say that they’re any good. There are gaps AND crowding. I think that’s quite impressive. Sadly not in a good way.
My teeth may not look much but at least they’ve always been strong. I’d always been pleased that I’d inherited teeth like my father’s (gaps and all thanks to missing incisors) especially as my mum lost loads of hers when she had us pesky kids. I was truly grateful that mine all remained intact. Wow, what strong teeth I must have. 33 and never had a filling, despite all those sweets I ate as a child (oh OK, and still do) and all that full fat coke I like to drink. Never had a filling until today that is. And not just one, oh no, I needed two. TWO fillings in one day! Looks like I’d been fooling myself about the buggers being strong.
My dentist was a very nice chap, friendly, jovial, seemingly appreciative of the sarcasm I tend to employ when I’m feeling slightly nervous (luckily). He told me what lovely teeth my husband, who had visited first, has. Great. I made a mental note to punch them all out later. I told him that mine were horrible, just so he knew and wasn’t shocked and horrified before he had a look. I expect he was wondering what a man with such lovely straight healthy teeth as Adam was doing married to a old harridan with choppers that point in every direction like me. I would be. So he had a look, and managed to hide his shock and horror very well by requesting an x-ray almost immediately. This was alarming. Now, I’m not very good at having foreign objects in my mouth as I have a very strong gag reflex. And I know what you’re thinking, but stop it because that’s very rude. He put the thing you’re supposed bite, let’s call it the thingamyjig, in my mouth and when I’d finished gagging after about 10 minutes took the x-ray. Then he put the thingamyjig on the other side. More gagging. And lo, evidence of tooth decay. I couldn’t see it, the x-ray just looked like a bunch of craply arranged teeth to me, but he assured me it was there and what would I know about it?
So, I had to have two fillings as the decay was on upper 6 on both sides. Or something. Hang on, Upper 6 was the second year of sixth form at my school. Oh, whatever. He asked me if I wanted an injection. What? Good grief, man, I may have experienced childbirth twice with no pain relief but that was down to extreme foolishness on my part. Do I look like a masochist? I didn’t even feel the injection. Having never experienced this before thanks to my previously strong teeth (bah) I was a bit worried about the drilling bit. But it was fine. I looked at the ceiling the whole time. It was rather stained. And that reminded me of an amusing water stain on the ceiling at my hairdressers. It looks like a vagina. I kid you not.
Anyway, after much drilling, wrangling and god knows what else the ordeal was over. My mouth felt funny, but not too bad. I would live to fight another day. I told the dentist that I thought I’d get rid of these rubbish teeth and go for a Hollywood smile. He said he didn’t think that would be possible with my overbite. Oh.