Friday, 9 March 2012


Oh Jeez. Not the best way to start the weekend. Started with a lot of pain in my back teeth last night - and it just got worse and worse as the night went on. This morning it was clear there was no option...After a two year trial separation, instigated at my behest,  I was going to have to reconcile with "the dentist".

50 minutes in the dentists chair this afternoon. Two molar's it would appear were giving me "problems". Two problems that added up to one big frickin' pain.
One needed a filling.
The other? Well, I got two options - root canal treatment ("but we can't guarantee that'll work") or "extraction".
So. I just put on a brave face and, like the late Gary Gilmour simply said "lets do it".
"You may hear a snap - it's nothing to worry about".
OK. So I wasn't too worried. However, when I heard a crunch followed by him going "ahh..." I did have my doubts.
I heard a little plop as something went into the metal tray.
"Is that it?"
"Well... some of it"
So he then had to spend the best part of twenty minutes rooting about (pardon the pun) trying to get the remainder out. At one point I could have swore he was coming at me with a Philip's screwdriver.
At least the dentist got a good workout. He looked as though he'd had a good interval session by the end of it.
Got a bit of a sore jaw right now and not entirely sure how I'll cope with food...

Thing is. I don't fear the dentist. I don't enjoy going, but I don't fear them.
There are some things I do fear however.
Take yesterday, for example. I'm having a great run up by the water of Leith. There's quite a few other runners and cyclists going about.
I run under one of the many over bridges.
I hear a "splash" from the puddle at the side and I catch sight of something in the corner of my eye.... A dirty big feckin' rat. Scuttling along right by my feet.
If there is one thing that gives me the absolute creeps it's rats. I've always been terrified of them.
Which might explain why I let out a massive girly scream and sprinted the next 100 metres of so to get away from it.
I think some of the other runners wondered what was going on. Maybe thought it was some bizarre fartlek session.
Looking at the reading on my Garmin there is a definite "spike" in the heart rate at the point I saw this thing.


David said...

Do you think that the toochache could be in someway related to the biscuit addiction?

Stuart said...

Yes. This has crossed my mind.
Biscuits, cakes, scones, chocolate…. Who knows?
I ruminated on this last night while I ate a couple of custard creams.