I was feeling perfectly fine yesterday until I noticed there was a lump on my jaw. The moment I found it I suddenly decided I was poorly and started fretting about getting my affairs in order.
I’ve done a bit of Dr Googling, which was no use at all. Kept suggesting gum infections. But my gums feel perfectly fine. It’s just a tender lump on the bone.
Husband set my mind at rest when he reminded me I’d been to the dentist on Saturday. Our first visit since 2011. Eeeek.
I organised a family visit. Kids first, then me, then Husband. The kid stuff was totally harmless fun with silly sunglasses and chitter chat with the friendly dentist.
Then came my turn and I suddenly remembered why I’d been putting it off for so long, because it was AWFUL. Fortunately I’d escorted the kids back to the waiting room, because I did a massive amount of twitching and wincing and gagging as she ban-sawed her way around my poor gums.
It was then suggested I have xrays because I hadn’t had any since 2007 – eeek again!
The xrays were the worst part. These enormous hard plastic things that had to be shoved into my mouth as I retched and retched and thrashed and thrashed.
So it’s quite possible they are to blame for my sensitive jaw.
Husband staggered out of the dentist’s room last and while we both tried to keep a brave face for the kids we agreed it was a terrible experience that needed to be dulled with beer, moules and frites as soon as possible. (We also both confessed to Marathon Man flashbacks while in the chair.)
It must be because we’ve been together so long because we hadn’t pre-planned the beer, moules and frites thing. I simply announced: “I’ve had this idea … let’s go to the Belgian beer cafe.” And he said: “You read my mind, I was thinking the exact same thing.”
A couple of bowls of molluscs and fried potatoes later, swished down with beer and rose, we were feeling much more human.
But obviously a few scars remain. Hopefully they subside soon before I start imagining the worst and calling the undertaker.
Mind you, it’s a million times better than I looked after having my wisdom teeth out under general anesthetic. It was a month before the bruises and swelling went down from that. I looked like I’d done 14 rounds with Mike Tyson. My parents got the dirtiest looks whenever I ventured out of the house with them. Child beaters.
There were even bruises all over my chest, which someone cheerfully suggested were from the oral surgeon putting his knee there while he levered my teeth out.
OK, starting to feel a bit faint … Better stop talking about it.
How did your last visit to the dentist go?