You all came up with brilliant answers to yesterday’s joke! Yes – the dentist saw molar bears at the North Pole.
And now… to today’s post:
Sir Pe tried to leave this as a comment on yesterday’s post, but I thought it was worthy of its own 15 minutes of fame! So, at last, I have my very first guest blogger… drum roll … may I present … the one, the only …
… Sir Pe! Make sure you make him feel at home and leave him lots of comment love. He must be the only person I know who actually makes the dentist feel nervous! This is his story in his own words.
I met my dentist, Michael Riedel, in November 1988, shortly after moving to Stockholm. I was having trouble with a wisdom tooth that had a bad sense of direction, and it didn’t take Michael very long to decide that it, and its three siblings, needed to be extracted ASAP. So extract them he did: firstly the two on the left, then two weeks later, the two on the right.
I’ll never forget that second session, and neither, I suspect, will Michael. He started on the easier, top-right tooth, which popped obligingly out with a minimum of persuasion. (Oh – I’m feeling a bit giddy right about now – are you?)
However, that lower-right tooth (or “48″ as it’s called here) had a set of roots that would make a Baobab tree envious, and it simply refused to budge. Twenty minutes, and two shots of anaesthetic later, he had managed to remove the crown, so there was no going back. (Oh no – I feel queasy now! OK .. sorry! Back to the story!)
As I was watching him, I saw beads of sweat forming on his brow, so I asked him if he wanted to take a short break. This he (very gratefully) did, returning ten minutes later (wearing a different shirt, I noticed), and equipped with a new plan: if the tooth refused to come out in one piece then it was going to be a question of “divide and conquer!”
He then produced a small circular saw, and proceeded to cut the tooth into four quarters. Each piece then had just one snake-like root to deal with, and it was an easy matter to extract them. The entire procedure took forty minutes from start to finish. (Lady Fi faints! Swoon! Swoon!)
After that visit, Michael has replaced four of my fillings (because they were badly done to start with), and taught me how to floss and brush my teeth properly. He also recommended that I start to use an electric toothbrush, which I have done ever since. On all subsequent visits he has quipped “It’s a good job all my patients aren’t like you, or I’d soon go out of business!”
I almost never eat sweets (except on Saturdays ), I don’t eat lemons, and the water where we live is very soft and free from impurities. I also like to remember the advice that Lady Fi’s dentist once gave her: “You only need to floss the teeth you want to keep!”
If that had been me, folks, you would have been able to hear the screams from the moon!
As a present for being my first guest blogger, I would like to award Sir Pe with a little plaque… or then, maybe not!?