I'd felt like smiling, a little.22:25 Dec 22 2018
Times Read: 387
The dentist had told me to keep my plate in, so I'd get used to it and, I had. Then another tooth came out, my right canine. So I'd had to go back to the dentist, again. I'd gone on the Wednesday and given my plate in, after a mould of my top set. This is about the same time as he's trying to remake my mouth-guard for my lower teeth, but I digress. Two days later I'd gone back to the dentist, to try on the plate anew, with it's added right canine, to fit over the nubbin of root that is still healthy, yet sorely lacking a tooth to go with it. So, the dentist told me to keep my plate in, to get used to it; but I hadn't kept it in, as just two days later the front of the base of the tooth, beneath the cap on the lower right dropped off, after I'd been using the mouth-guard – remember the mouthguard – which as it happens, was a tad too tight on that tooth, or so it had seemed, when I had removed it. Then just as I'd finished typing out the preceding paragraphs, I'd stood, albeit unsteadily, then made my way to my bedroom door, to make my way to the kitchen, to make a coffee. But as I say, I'd stood unsteadily and stumbled, banging the side of my hand against the doorframe. It was after my coffee I'd sat cross-legged on my bed once more before my machine and noticed the bruising that had already shown. And, moreso than being bruised, it was very, very painful, somehow limiting the use of my little finger and to a lesser degree, the one next to it. But, I digress... So yet another trip to the dentist had been required, during which time he had attended to both the plate, the mouthguard and the tooth. “It was porous,” I'd told him, to which he had smiled and assured me, “Just a filling.” And, at that point I'd punched the air and gave a whoop of joy. Both Mister Nolan and his assistant had smiled at me and, I'd grinned sheepishly then apologised. And then about ten minutes later, I'd been downstairs and apologised yet again, with that same sheepish grin. Both she and those few who were sitting waiting had grinned, moments before I'd opened the door and left. As I finish this piece of writing for now, the tooth he'd worked on,is sensitive, but painless and, I can live with that.
And after a bad day, or should I say morning, I'd felt the need to write of my complaints in my food diary, which eventually got taken to my doctor, after Lucie had used her wiles, to get me to go to see her. I'd left the typed out notes with my doctor and said to her, “Please read it once I'm gone.” Needless to say, a short while after I'd Dad had finished his tea the phone had rung, which I'd ignored, as I'd guessed what it was about. I'd also chosen to leave it ringing a second time. Then on the Friday I'd got a very formal letter, suggesting I go to the surgery to make an appointment. Not wanting to pee off my doctor I went on the Friday, only to be told by the receptionist, “Nothing is available just yet, try again...” So I'd gone home, a tad disconsolate, but resolute: I'd go back. Then the next day I'd gone to do some shopping locally and I'll swear down, the weather had been quite atrocious and, although I'll quite happily face rain, hail, sleet or snow, I'm not too keen on driving wind and rain; or driving wind and hail, sleet or snow. In other words, I'm not too keen on wind.
Anyway, come the Monday and housework with Dad seen to, it was time to trundle to the doctors, as no-one had phone, as had been intimated on the previous Friday. And once again I'd been told the same thing, by the same receptionist. I had not been amused, at all. So come the morning, early Tuesday morning that is, I'd printed out a letter to my doctor, saying that I was puzzled as to why I'd been sent the letter and then found it impossible to get the requisite appointment. With a desire to 'play fair', I'd waited till late Tuesday afternoon and no phone-call, before going a walk, to post some Christmas cards, some to the postbox and some to the letterbox of houses passed, on my walk to Bromborough villlage. At that point I felt that my observation was a fair one to make and, felt justified in my musing. The curious thing I knew, would be collecting my prescription the next day. And, it had been the next day that I'd gone to collect my prescription, feeling tired as I had. And I'd kinda stumbled to the reception desk, only to encounter the same receptionist who had told me there was no appointment, on two occasions. So I'd asked for my prescription in a cold and tired voice and not been surprised when she had seemed a little shaken. And as I'd got my taxi home ward I'd felt like smiling, a little.
COMMENTS
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DarkBetty
23:16 Dec 22 2018
Your writing is beautiful.