It was agony Ivy!


That was then. Just recently I noticed a wobbly tooth. Centre of bottom row so not to be ignored. My charming South African dentist said we could extract it and replace it attached to a plate or extract it and replace it attached to a small bridge. Years of experience - with anything false that isn't permanently attached to my person - has taught me to leave them well alone. False eyelashes, nails, boobs (when I was thin as a lat) lenses have all come unstuck , dropped in the soup or slipped round the cleavage, so I plumped for the bridge.

There was an appointment for measuring and making a plaster cast. I did feel, when he was wresting the cast from my mouth that at least the wobbly tooth would come out with it - such was the strength required. Over the week-end with the boys here - of which more later - there was not time to be apprehensive of Monday's appointment. On the day, I forgot to take a couple of Quiet Life to steady my nerves as I wanted to try to buy a shirt for MTL. His weight loss means some clothes are too big. I found a good tweed jacket from his slimmer days but the new shirts I had bought him weren't right for the jacket.

We had just had a surprise invite to a railway lunch and as it was from our friend the Station Master we accepted - our first really public appearance since MTL's illness. Nothing looks worse than a collar two sizes too large so I planned to get a toning shirt from our local excellent gentlemen's outfitters. Alas it was closed, as I went down early.

The surgery was very quiet but I still had the obligatory ten minutes to wait which challenged my enforced calm and deep breathing. I reminded myself that said dentist had never hurt me.
Yet. After exchanging pleasantries with himself and his nice young man assistant I sat and was electronically lowered into a horizontal position where I could examine a map of the world if only I weren't dazzled by the powerful light above. I'm meant to avoid bright light - dilemma do I keep my very expensive specs which react to light, and risk getting them damaged (sooner or later something always drops) or bear the blinding light and an inevitable head ache?
The solution came in a blinding flash - I removed my glasses and closed my eyes.

I felt a sharp prick right in the corner of my jaw. That would be the local - he knows I don't really enjoy pain. Then there was a long slow throb of pain which seemed to last forever whilst the needle was kept in place. I managed to ask him why he was injecting there in the corner, when the tooth was in the middle. 'Because that is where the nerve is,' I was told.
That would account for the pain. I started my afternoon prayers a little early through the long silence as we waited for the local to take effect.

My exhalations were more like shudders and I couldn't stop my torso from moving in sympathy. There were a few muttered instructions - nothing to do with me, and action. I felt something and a sharp tug then I drifted into something like a reverie. Thank God that was the worst over but he's still to fit the bridge. The plan was to do it all in one fell swoop to save me frightening the horses. Alas - I was told because of the bleeding I had to bite hard on a pack in my mouth, go home and come back in the afternoon when the bridge would be fitted.

By the time I got home I was feeling delicate. MTL was sympathetic and said he would take me and bring me back after the bridge was fitted. After some soup - carefully adhering to the written instructions- and a rest on the sofa - head higher than feet - we returned to the surgery. All was pronounced well and the bridge cemented in. I'm quite used to it now- it actually feels better than the wobbly tooth and I haven't had to take any pain killers. I know there are folk who reckon it isn't worth the local to dull the pain but I'm not one of them.