So I had to go to the emergency dentist on Friday afternoon. It's true what they say: toothache is worse than childbirth. Don't let any woman tell you otherwise.
I am not registered with a dentist - have not been for many years. I know, my bad. I don't really know why. I never had a bad enough experience to give me legitimate cause. I broke my tooth about a year and a half ago on a pizza crust. Never hurt until this week, and then, boy oh boy did it hurt. The wife said, I told you so, but then, she is always supportive like that.
So now I have a man with ten fingers in my mouth saying: is this sore? is this? how about NOW? What do these guys expect you to do - sign language? What's the sign for stop, you're killing me here? Perhaps the sharp pulling back of your head enough to let them know. I'm thinking, if Marathon Man presses any harder he's going to knock my tooth out anyway, painful or not. Who needs instruments when you push like that? Wait a minute, I didn't sign up for this gig!
Finally, examination over, he gave me the option of root canal or extraction. I wasn't prepared to pay hundreds of pounds for three more appearances under the light, so I settled for getting it whipped out instead (although, as he was mainland European, and his English was not precise, he said teeth instead of tooth, so when he told me he was going to have to take my teeth out I fell out of that big ol' dental chair).
Now I'm on penicillin to get rid of that pesky infection caused by the absess, then I'm back in that chair. I'm still in pain, so go easy on me.