Less than a week ago, as part of my preparation for our big trip, with some trepidation I made a trip to the Dentist.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t fear the Dentist, in fact I look forward to seeing mine. He’s a very young English import, very friendly and we do get on well (his biggest fault seemingly that he supports Manchester United).
Couple that with the fact that I am intent to hang on to my own teeth for as long as possibly, I see a visit as a necessary part of my life, hence, I make the best of it.
What concerned me with this visit however, was that I was indeed having something removed. Four somethings in fact, my wisdom teeth! Perhaps it was dumb bravado, but I had also opted to get all four removed in 1 sitting, which meant bye bye crunchy, solid food for as long as the healing process may take.
I will confess, my wisdom teeth have never caused me any discomfort, and but for a small amount of decay on one of them, my Dentist (also called Chris), had always advised me that there was never an urgent need for their removal.
So why do so now you ask?
Well, there were 2 reasons, the first being my desire to get this done whilst I still had Health Insurance, something we would shortly be suspending when we jump on a plane for the Americas.
The second reason… Well, some of you may recall my reluctance to get a shave in a remote Vietnamese market (I’m prepared to pursue that course now), however, I am not sure however I am ready to face the ordeal of a third world dentist!
Yep, my chief motivation for putting my body through this trauma, was a fear of my wisdom teeth actually causing me a problem whilst we traipsed about the world…
All things considered, 5 days after the event and I am doing alright (I’m sure the occasional pop of codeine when the pain is just a bit too much has helped).
For the record however, a diet based on mushy pasta, scrambled eggs, fruit puree & mashed potato, gets tired, very quickly!