The Exciting Adventures of the Soon to be Married

I’ve not written in a while. I could blame the heat and the sweat and the fatigue it brings to the body and mind, but if I wanted to bitch about summer I wouldn’t have been stuck for the words to write. Truth is I’ve barely crossed the door but for work, supplies or cat food or litter.

The money’s not short, in fact it’s growing as we speak, but all my wealth might as well be smoke and air because the big day is coming and it’s time for the debts to be paid . Life’s been a non-stop rollercoaster of books, burned disks and getting to bed early for the lack of other choice. But like the summer, I could have been grousing about this for weeks, so I’ll drop the subject.

Five weeks to go and all the dominos are starting fall faster. The photographer will be paid in the next few days, the meals and hall in the next few weeks, and then the party starts. The stag and hen nights are sorted too; my best men have arranged a sixteen man limo to take us to Jongleurs on the 19th August while Michelle and Co will be learning to pole dance on a date I can never remember.

Well I guess that’s it for now, all I didn’t have to say is said and this typing wore me out. Besides I’m a busy man; books to read, TV to watch, litter trays to change and memories of life without debts to dwell on.

The Wisdom of Teeth

I had a pain in one of my teeth for a few weeks before I’d finally resigned to the fact that I’d be making my first trip in (at least) two years to the Dentist. It’s not that I’m afraid of the dentist, not at all, though; if I were it wouldn’t be without good cause. When I was knee high to, well, a persons knee I suppose, I had a tooth removed. The removal was done at Hairmyres Hospital and had required anaesthetic, and as I understand it went smoothly and without incident. It was only when I got home that my throat began to close, the ambulance was called and I spent the next few days at Monklands with an Air mask on.

But no, I am not afraid of the dentist. I am however cheap. And I grudge paying money to someone to drill inside my mouth.

Not long in the door at the White Moss Road surgery I found myself being X-Rayed by my freshly qualified and newly acquired dentist. Her name wasn’t even on the door yet she was so new you know. X-Ray done and films looked at the damage was assessed. Three fillings and (the eventual point of this post) the removal of my bottom left hand wisdom tooth was what was required.

***

To digress again slightly, Dentist Jr asked if I wanted White Fillings or the standard NHS issue. I wasn’t really sure of the difference so asked for a price comparison which was as follows: -

3x NHS Fillings
Removal
Scale and Polish
X- Ray

£68.00

OR

3x White Fillings

£235.00

I’ll leave you make up your mind as to the option I chose.

***

Having had the majority of the fillings and scale and polish attended to in an earlier appointment, I went on Friday at 9:40 for my last filling and the removal of my wisdom tooth. It’s important to note that I was completely unaware I even had wisdom teeth until I was told one was to be removed. So easy come easy go I figured. I wouldn’t miss it, it doesn’t even have a purpose; you can’t chew with them and they don’t make you Yoda or anything which the name may suggest. As far as I can tell there only function is to cause pain to some as they grow.

Easy come easy go, right? Wrong. When I had mentioned to my boss that I was getting the tooth removed he literally laughed in my face at the possibility of my coming to work after the procedure. Yeah, yeah. Wuss.

So here I go the last fillings done and out comes an instrument which seems vaguely familiar to me from my time working with my Dad, He a plumber. I shrug it off. No problem. Macho. Here we go.

Jesuschristthiscrazybitchistryingtoripmyjawoff!!!!!

***

My mum had offered me a lift on every day since I told her about having the tooth removed and I had declined each offer. I’d be just fine I’d tell her. I’m glad she ignored me. Still shaking I ask her to take me to work. As I reach Paul, my boss, he winces and tries not look directly at me. He offers me a tissue and I’m still numb so I mumble my thanks, though I’m not sure at this point why gives it to me. I wipe at my mouth and the hanky dyes red. Go home he tells me and I burble my agreement.

I look at myself in the mirror on the way back down the lift and the blood has began crusting on my numb lips and drying on my teeth. When I get home I do my best to remove it but its still flowing. When the door goes the postman has the terrified look of a man who’s about to be offered a nice Chianti. He looks away quickly enough to sleep soundly that night.

Pain. Pain is the wisdom of wisdom teeth. It is the only purpose I can fathom. Visit the dentist regularly. It’s worth the cost.