Just been to the dentist today, to have my broken tooth trimmed and set up for an inlay – he drilled for ages, then stuck a temporary cap on it to see how it goes. Nice chap; told me if it goes tits-up in the next two weeks before the next appointment, I should contact him. Damn straight… Mind you, if it does, it’ll mean root canal work, which I’m not relishing!
Then I had an appointment with the hygienist immediately afterwards – a nutty plastic Paddy called Helen, who talked non-stop throughout the procedure of scraping the crap of my pearlies. I wouldn’t mind, but I was limited to grunts and sign language! Not the best conversationalist with dental tools in my mouth, I’m forced to conclude!
Well, only another 500 quid’s worth of dental chiselling and hacksawing, and I should have something approaching a reasonable headful of hampsteads. Better be worth it! 🙂