An update on matters dental following my earlier post (see Comfortably Numb from around 2 weeks ago) regarding my chipped tooth as today my gold-plated crown (my assumption based on its cost although it seemed to be of the regular variety when I inspected the installation) was fitted. Other than the dent in my bank balance, it was a surprisingly pain free experience. Last week’s impression/fitting was more uncomfortable and I have certainly got value for money in terms of drill time with a total of three visits.
They say that there is no such thing as a poor dentist, and I am inclined to agree - I have vivid memories of the collection of Porsches parked outside the dentists of my youth.
An even earlier memory is of the huge house in South London where my Father’s dentist resided. I have never seen a surgery as big since (and I am guessing that such an opulent looking workplace also doubled as his London residence). Too my (admittedly child’s) eyes, this mansion formed an overwhelmingly grim backdrop to my terror filled childhood dental visits. The ‘Butcher of Penge’ as Mr Hodge was known in our family (well at least by me following a particularly brutal extraction under a general anaesthetic - he used a gas that smelled uncannily like Persil washing powder - and I have never really been comfortable around washing machines ever since) was only abandoned as our primary dental care giver when I refused point blank to even get in the car for our next visit - probably the first ( and only) time that I managed to prevail upon my parents to cancel any kind of appointment. At least today’s experience was not accompanied by floods of tears.
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