Today was supposed to be my annual dental check-up, but at the end of last week I noticed I couldn't have anything remotely cold touch one of my teeth and, as it had got progressively worse over the past few days, I phoned to ask if, alongside my check-up and twice yearly assignation with the hygenist, I could have it fixed.
An hour or so in the dentist chair with Dr Chris, the dentist, chatting away at me (why do they do that?) and a couple of injections, saw an old filling removed and a new one ensconced. A very unpleasant process, but of course I do realise it could have been a whole lot worse than an old, cracked filling needing replaced.
And then it was off to the hygenist for an equally unpleasant time.
I don't know what it is about the hygenist, but the only way I can describe it is like being back at school waiting for a telling off from the teacher.
'What brush do you use?'
'What toothpaste do you use?'
'What floss do you use?'
All apparently answered correctly and followed by a huge sense of relief when the 20 something-year-old hygenist told me how good I've been in the tooth brushing and flossing department, which made me blush with pride and felt like I'd been awarded the class prize.
Ridiculous!
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