Fluffy clouds and fuzzy bunnies joined me in song and merriment as I led the parade through thronged ticker-taped streets, when all at once I was violently awakened by little satnav shouting “Daddy wake up! Today is the day you’re getting your tooth out!”
I had forgotten about it. Young Lucy’s feminine senses in date-management have thankfully (or not as the case may be) kicked into full swing. Last Wednesday she told me “this time next week you’ll be having your tooth out.” I had forgotten then too.
You see, after my previous report on my visit to the dentist, I went back for one (final) filling. After that, all through Christmas in fact, my tooth was very sore. I returned to Dr. D. in January and he levelled the tooth so my mouth closed better, but he couldn’t do anything for the “other” problem I’ve always had… you see I have -that is had– an extra tooth double-parked as it were in my palette and it was now even harder to clean-out between them, causing me all sorts of discomfort.
He recommended extraction. I concurred. I told him give me a few weeks to come to terms with it though. He gave me a few weeks, during which time I blotted it from my mind until today.
So anyway, I go in, take the hot-seat. We get started. A couple of tickles of the needle were required. “I’m not afraid, I can hack it, I’m a big boy now,” I smirked to myself as it was going on.
Then he informed me he’d have to give me a little pinch. This one was into the palette. Same needle, I think, but damn it hurt. “Aww huck aww huck….awwwww!” I yelled, suddenly yearning to be rafting down the Mississippi alongside a fictional character by Mark Twain.
After a few minutes wait in the lobby I returned for more. Have you seen Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler yet? That’s what it felt like. I knew what I was in for, but what could I do? Nothing else mattered. I had to have my tooth pulled on this day. It was my destiny.
All rafts were abandoned and scuttled. From here on it was tugs all the way. Tug tug tug, jimmy, tug, brace, tug, jimmy, jimmy, brace, tug, yank! “Woo hoo!” went the assistant, but the dentist was less cheerful. Through closed eyes I could hear his frown.
“The thing is, the other tooth is all fractured now,” he explained. “I’ll have to extract that one too.” (This one had a root canal fitted some years ago you see).
So, more needles, then back to the Missisippi. Tug tug tug, etc. Yoink!
And now I can whistle with my mouth closed.
I was ok driving home. Mrs. Rumm is here too since she is still recuperating with her back. She told me I was pale and to lie down. I told her I had to write this non-blog. Halfway through I felt faint and rushed for a banana. Then, with banana in hand I flopped onto a sofa before I fell. Mrs. Rumm raced in with half a grapefruit topped with glucose and damn it was a fine thing. I haven’t eaten a grapefruit in years but I now resolve to eat one every day!
…Well, every day there’s a grapefruit in the house at least.
She demanded I go to bed for an hour, but I knew what she really wanted.
“You with your bad, creaky back and me whistling dixie every time I draw a breath,” I told her, “I don’t think we’re up for it.”
She denied the insinuation.
Anyway, I must go back to the dentist next week to have my stitches removed and to discuss how the gap is to be ‘filled’. Why did I have to leave myself in for this? Those ten dentistless years weren’t so bad now were they!?
(Disclaimer: My dentist is a lovely man and I can’t fault him and I would advise anyone to go regularly.)
…One final note, I again almost fainted before getting to the end of this non-blog. I made it upstairs this time though and plonked myself into bed. Mrs. Rumm rushed in like cold air and wrapped me up. Could be the effects of the anaesthetic wearing off or something to do with the grapefruit, but my stomach was the main source of pain -doubling me up and almost knocking me out.
Hopefully I’m over the worst of it, but my mouth is still quite numb and no doubt that will feel worse in a couple of hours.
To end on a cheery note, today is the day we also submitted our entry for the Irish National Song Contest. That package was some lovely piece of work. I’ll see if I can post with some more details on that at some stage. It looked like a treasure chest and let me assure you inside was all gold! 🙂