Chicken at the Dentist

I am the greatest coward when it comes to going to the Dentist. Three weeks ago, since the nagging pain I had was really getting on my nerves, I plucked up courage to go along to a new Dentist and get the nagging pain seen to.

Filling out the form in the waiting room, I thought it best to mention that I tend to faint after the injections for fillings or extractions.

'Hmm,' said the Dentist, 'Is that because you are a bit scared of the process. 'Hmm,' I said, 'It could well be.'

So the Lady Dentist proceeded to x-ray and count the teeth, in that lovely acronymic manner that they have, and I lay on the chair trying not to squirm too much.

'Hmm,' she said again, 'I think you could do with a good clean here, it's been a while hasn't it?'

So my teeth got the clean of their life and I was dead chuffed with the result, I could feel again the little gaps between them at the bottom.

'What about the nagging pain,' I said.

'Oh, that'll likely settle down now,' she replied, 'Give it a week or so.'

Three weeks later and I'm chewing painkillers like smarties. I had a chance last week to go in and get it looked out, but the old coward that I am, I chickened out. I rang again today, to be told that it's going to be next week before they'll see me. In the meantime, anything hard in the eating line is off the menu and I just have to hope that I stop waking myself up at night with the tooth-grinding, which isn't helping.

I just know it's going to be another extraction. They say that you lose one for every child you bear. Some price to pay for having six kids, eh?

And don't mention oil of cloves!