I’ve known a few dentists in my time, and in general I have to say that they aren’t the jolliest of men, though many of them seem to have nice cars. If they were put in a police lineout it would be tricky separating a dentist from an undertaker’s mute.
On the other hand, look what they have to work with. After a couple of nasty experiences with dentists I am prone to become a gibbering wreck at the sound of a drill and regard them all as extras from Marathon Man. It can’t be much fun being my dentist.
However, with a touch of humour, a pint of anaesthetic and a very competent use of the pliers, he has completely rehabilitated his profession.
Just a short post today. I’ve been taking co-codamol to fight off the pain that I was told would come when the anaesthetic wore off. So far there is no pain. From that I take it that the pills have done their job. The downside is that I can’t actually feel my head.
On a brighter, and less narcotic note, the camera is working again – it was a combination of high battery use and an inaccurate battery condition icon.
Also, I am wearing a red checked shirt and black trousers today, one to hide the blood and the other because I can. The diet has worked so well that, despite the cheese sandwich dilemma, I have lost a full trouser size and am now comfortable in trousers that I last wore in 2014.
There were definitely three good things to tell you, but I forgot the other.
It’s a bit like the first two signs of old age – bad memory and er… I can’t remember the other one.