Thursday, 17 February 2011

Dentist Help

I have known for a long time that I need to go to the dentist, but oh how I hate dentists. Sorry anyone who’s job entails looking in the mouth of crazy frightened people.
I have been putting it on the back boiler so to speak as I could not cope with first a telling off and second someone being that close to me. (In my face.)
Well I took the bull by the horns and rang up the dentist that I had used on the national health but is now private. I spoke to a lovely receptionist and explained that I was a nervous wreck, that my fear goes back so far that it is unreasonable.
She asked one of the dentists if he would take me on and then the question was how soon? Well it was yesterday that I rang and today I had the first of many appointments.
I asked him if it was possible to give me a bang over the head and then I could wake up with my teeth transformed. I think he thought that I was joking, well I wasn’t.
So was it as bad as I had dreaded, well no, but then again we have not got going yet. The dentist is a very nice young man; hope he is old enough to be qualified.
The house will be mortgaged to pay for it, and surprise surprise there are a few teeth that are in good nick.
My earliest memory of going to the dentist was having my teeth out with gas. I have a small mouth and so some of the second ones were taken out as soon as they came through.  You see no one can call me BIG MOUTH
Then when I was very pregnant with my second daughter I had an abscess on a tooth, I was in hospital with a placenta preview waiting to see if I needed a caesarean, so when Drs came to do their rounds I was referred as the one with two bumps.
While working in a pub I got in the way of a fight got elbowed in the face and the one tooth I had on a plate came through my lip. I went to a wedding the next day with stitches in my lip and super glue on my tooth.
The when my husband was very poorly with Cancer, we had the Macmillan nurse come to see us, one day she asked me what had been the final straw that sent me over the edge. The answer was a broken tooth.
Perhaps now you can understand my fear

No comments:

Post a Comment