Monday 29 July 2013

Gloria Gaynor Iz Me

Hanson-Roberts Tarot

I don't know if I can make a coherent sentence right  now, but just for you, I'll give it a go: I had little if any sleep last night, as the intermittent toothache that has been grumbling recently returned in such whacking great force that I was sucking down any and all painkillers that I could find in the house by the handful. Yes, that includes the kids' Calpol - I was that desperate.

First thing this morning I was on the phone to the dentist where I thought I was registered and where I regularly take the kids for their checkups; the receptionist who has retained her job for quite a while in spite of her total lack of any people skills whatsoever told me that since I had not visited for myself since 2006 (I know, I know) that I no longer counted as registered, and would have to call the NHS 111 number for an emergency dentist.

I did that, and having answered all the 111 lady's questions - which incidentally and happily for me showed that I was not having either a heart attack, stroke or bleeding to death - I obtained yet another phone number, this time for some kind of emergency dental portal thingy.

I explained my piteous story again to the dental lady, who promptly gave me a special secret squirrel code, which magically granted me access to an emergency appointment, safely past Cerberus, Hell's Receptionist .... to my own old dentist.

No, I have no idea how that works.

I actually got there like a grown-up, unaccompanied and under my own steam (as opposed to being dragged kicking and screaming, like usual) and in time. The dentist and his assistant were lovely and friendly even though I was wide-eyed with panic, sweating and shaking like an over-raced horse; he took one look and said that I would most likely have to have the tooth removed, but for now he would put some special stuff on it that would hold everything including the pain at bay until I could return for a regular appointment. 

I begged and implored, I wailed and emphatically did NOT gnash my teeth asking him to remove it now this minute please .... No, you're right, I didn't, actually - the pain was only 9.9 out of 10, still not quite enough for me to request any kind of treatment involving needles. He said this paste would be working within 3 hours.

It didn't feel like it to me, so a quick trip to the pharmacy up the road where I got lots of sympathy, massive doses of ibuprofen and some topical stuff containing actual Lidocaine (OH WHAT JOY) greatly improved things so that I was able to doze off for a nap on the sofa with the cat.

What ?  

Yes, Moonheart - the cat whose attack resulted in a pus-filled A&E date night for DH and me. She loves me, though, with lots of purrs and cuddles. I guess like goes to like.

And now I have a return visit to the dentist scheduled which will weigh over me as heavy as an elephant hanging by a frazzled old little piece of fraying string. I have focussed on my goal, which I hope will give me the inner fortitude to survive the coming oral traumas:

Big Girl Pants will be mine again soon.


  1. Oh dear :( Try swilling it with a sage leaf tisane - my Mum swore by sage for toothache

  2. Sage leaf tisane....or get a dose of clove oil into it. Take care not to get it on your tongue too or you'll sound like you've been at the whisky for DAYS. Or just get the whisky.

    Tons of (((hugs)))

    Ali x

  3. I'm sitting here drinking gallons of Vodka so I can use my astonishing mental powers to psychically get you buzzed enough to not feel the pain. Is it working?

  4. Oh, teeth are the worst (right before ears and backs). I hope the follow-up visit is soon, so you don't waste any more of the potential stash enhancement budget on tooth drugs.

  5. Ouch! Sorry to hear about the tooth, that really sucks. And the palaver with the dentists surgery doesn't exactly help, either, does it?! Ah well, sounds like you know how to take care of yourself, so I just hope the follow-up is soon!


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