Why My Dentist Is The Best
I was at the dentist yesterday and it was great.
Not something many would expect to hear from me as I am famously terrified of going to the dentist. However, I went back to “MY” dentist again and that made all the difference.
I first met Keith about 10 years ago when I had an emergency appointment (made by my boss) for the local dental practice. By the time I went to see him I could barely move my mouth and even taking a deep breath could leave me in tears. Hence my boss making the appointment as she was getting a bit fed up of me being so useless.
It had been 8 or more years since I had been to a dentist. The last time I ended up lying flat on my back with the stupid man telling me to stop salivating as much.
Thankfully Keith was so great with me on my emergency appointment that I went back, and I kept going back. Over the years we became friends and spent some time together doing charity work and discussing sci-fi programmes.
Then he moved practices.
This was a disaster of epic proportions, he had moved to a practice 50 miles away. I totally supported his reasons for moving but we all know that I was not going to be driving 50 miles any time soon.
That is until yesterday when my wisdom tooth had to be dealt with. I had been nursing it for weeks but now it was getting to the stage I couldn’t sleep.
Off I went, driving to the Capital City, heart in my mouth as I thought of the possibilities, whilst simultaneously remembering that Keith never hurts me or scares me so all would be well. I was a mess.
Into the surgery, fill out the forms as a new patient, sit in the waiting room and wait.
Then he appeared, asking where I have been and ready with a welcoming hug. I knew I was going to be ok.
We had a quick catch up as we moved into the surgery then he had a look at my tooth. There were two options. Antibiotics and then root treatment or extraction. I could see he wasn’t keen on extraction so I said I would be ok with the antibiotics. I was sure I could last another couple of days on painkillers to save the tooth.
Then he had another look and touched my tooth the wrong way. There is a possibility that his forearms may be bruised this morning. That tooth was ok, unless you put pressure on the wrong bit, then it was excruciating. He put pressure on the wrong bit, I yelled and grabbed hold of whatever was nearest which was his forearms.
That was when the decision to extract was made. Two injections later and the tooth was out. It was easy, pain free and oh my goodness what a great sleep I had last night.
My dentist is the best and I will be making another appointment for all the treatment I have missed over the last year. Watch this space as I get my teeth back in shape now I have found him again.
I may be a strong independent woman in many things, when it comes to my teeth, I am a little ball of fluff that needs to be taken care of. Thankfully I have found someone who gets that and looks after me whilst still treating me like an adult.