The (dental) deed is done

Well, it is official. I really do have the best dentist in the whole world. The tooth is out. Went to work and had a manic morning trying to cram a days work into 3 hours (not quite successful but close enough) and then drove to the dentists having decided quite firmly that I was not going to think about it at all. A particular effort considering I had two comments this morning that gave me the fear. Comment 1 (overheard as dental receptionist asks a colleague) ‘Is 15 minutes long enough for an extraction?’ 15 minutes?! How long does it take to remove the average tooth??!!. Comment 2 (from well meaning colleague): ‘Oh, it’s one of the back ones. You’ll probably need stitches…’. What, what what??!!!!

Lost myself in a hilarious magazine article as I was waiting. It contained tips taken from a book written in 1955 about being a good wife. I can only imagine my husbands reaction if I greeted him at the door with a ribbon in my hair and then lead him to the sofa, propped his head up on a pillow and took his shoes off for him. Actually, he’d probably be delighted though I doubt he’d notice the ribbon…

Thus distracted I calmly listened to my dentists advice about aftercare and braced myself for a repeat performance of the last time I had a tooth out. The actual event was vaguely surreal. He had the clamp thing on my tooth and swayed my jaw from side to side, like he was doing a salsa dance with my tooth. Then there was the tiniest crack (like the first single bite into a crisp) and the whole thing came out in one go. How amazing is that?

I am now drinking a cool cup of tea and contemplating a nap as he has told me to rest for a few hours which should stop it bleeding. Tooth thus departed, normal Shoestringing action should resume shortly…

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