Now I alluded to my teeth in an earlier post but I feel I must now relive the entire wonder that is my birthday weekend from the viewpoint of my upper right incisors 1 & 2.
'James has his birthday on Saturday' says incisor 1.
Incisor 2 replies, 'Its alright, I'm starting with an abcess at my base, he wont be doing any drinking this weekend.'
'Great, I think I will join the party and develop a gum infection' incisor 1 says knowingly.
Well the bastards didn't stop me drinking but a lack of hangover on Sunday indicates they perhaps had an effect on things. I didn't use to be scared of the dentist until a mad, bad and dangerous fella gave me fillings with no anaesthetic when I was about 16. It fucking killed. Id been brewing with toothache for a while but I figured it'd pass especially as I have no NHS dentist. So when I had to stop at Market Weighton on my way home last thursday because I physically couldnt drive without further painkillers the penny finally dropped that I may need an appointment. Friday and the emergency dentist laughed and said I had no chance getting in today.
Booked in for first thing on my birthday. Get there sat in chair and the dentist mentions that I have a gum infection to my relief. Then he taps my tooth. I scream. He says some of the scariest shit Ive ever heard - 'thats not good - I think we need an X-ray.'
In the end he drilled my tooth out (with anaesthetic), drained the abcess and I was feeling distintly unwell and looking like a hamster. Got home with that stroke victim look caused by the anaesthetic and took some phone calls from my parents and siblings wishing happy birthday. My wife bless her told me to 'shut the fuck up, i'm sleeping'. Now I feel this is a little unsensitive as she had all week told me stop being a big wimp and that there was nothing wrong. And there was. And it was my birthday. And she was being a bitch.
Went out on the lash and came home at 11pm. After 4 pints. Weak.
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