... and still continue

Went to dentist. Dentist said he was reluctant to start root canal treatment though he thought the tooth could be verging on needing it. He said he couldn't wave a magic wand and make it all right, which I suppose is what I had been hoping for, but that he wanted to give it longer, and see if either it settled down, or got worse and definitely did need root canal treatment. Which means I still have a dodgy tooth, still can't eat on the right-hand side, and am now in fear and trembling of getting dreadful toothache. With Easter fast approaching, this is not a good place to be. Plus, said dentist is going away on Friday till after Easter.

Various homeopathic remedies have been suggested - arnica, belladonna, silica - but the best thing, according to the dentist, would be Nurofen which I can't take because of my stomach ulcers. In the good old days (or bad old days as far as dentistry is concerned) they used to use oil of cloves for toothache. Maybe that's the first route to go down. Or do I mean 'root'?

Tooth woes continue

Toothache struck at around 5,30 pm last night. The dental surgery was open till 8pm so I rang and left a message, hoping someone could see me, but they didn't bother ringing my back so I took a handful of painkillers and went to bed. It's not so bad at the moment, just a gentle simmer as opposed to an agitated boil, so I hope it behaves itself till my next appointment at 9,30 tomorrow. But that's only a brief appointment so he won't be able to do much. And he's away all next week.

Tomorrow I'm off to view a house in Bounds Green, North London. In the parallel road is a 24-hour emergency dentist's. Could this be fate guiding me?

Another sleepless night

Well, half of one, anyway. It must have been about 3.30 am when I awoke having had a horrid dream about my mum. This is only the second dream I have had about her since she died 12 years ago. I don't want to give the details as they were so lurid and all to do with sexuality and dementia, but at the end of it she told me that she felt she could never do a thing right as far as I was concerned and that I didn't like anything she did, wore or said. In the dream - and this is true in real life, too - I told her emphatically that it was the opposite, that I loved her and appreciated everything she did, but felt that I was the one who could never do or say the right thing! I think there is an essential truth here, that Mum and I never really understood each other even though we were so alike in so many ways. I often wonder if it was because I'd been separated from her for the first 24 hours after my birth, as I was so badly bruised and battered.

And then... and then, I got a twinge in the tooth the dentist had worked on yesterday and that did it. Wide awake, stomach clenched in fear, adrenalin surging through my veins, or wherever adrenalin surges, and I couldn't get back to sleep but lay there in dread anticipation of terrible toothache. There have been one or two more twinges but that's all so far. I'm still wound up with anxiety, though. Wish I wasn't such a coward!

LATEST TOOTH UPDATE
The pain and sensitivity are just as bad as they were £100-worth of treatment ago (an hour and a quarter in the chair, loads of drilling out of decay and and old amalgum, and a temporary filling). I found that out when I prodded it. Oh no! My worst fears are realised. My fate is root canal treatment or extraction. I feel sick.

The new dentist

I have never had private dentistry before. Never been in a large, airy surgery with a lovely view over a garden and computer screens everywhere running little films about teeth and showing your x-rays up close. The dentist himself is a keen amateur actor, very interesting guy, busy bettering himself by studying for a fellowship in dentistry, doing a course in advanced cosmetic work and doing acting courses at the weekend.

The main difference, though, is the time he takes explaining everything, not rushing but putting you at your ease, asking if you're OK after every poke, prod and drilling session. I've had two appointments this week and have another next Wednesday. I used to complain about having to pay £32 per month to Denplan to stay with my old dentist. Well, these three appointments will add up to a whole year of Denplan, then if at the end of a day a crown is necessary, I shall have to take out a mortgage. But I think it's worth it not to be kept waiting for up to an hour, and being made to feel like a human being rather than a collection of teeth on a production line.

Trendy specs

I'm quite proud of these. I spotted them in the optician's and thought they would never suit me, but I loved the colour - black on the outside and lime green inside so it seems as if I am in the woods looking out. I got one of those tints put in that reacts to light and they go really, really dark. My last pair have worn out and stay tinted all the time so when I first put these on, it was as if someone had dashed iced water into my eyes. "I can see clearly now..." tra-la.

Birthday week

I had such a sociable time, starting with a drunken dinner party on the Saturday before my birthday, that I haven't got round to blogging at all. Tuesday was the birthday itself, and this was followed up with visits from out of town friends on the Friday and Saturday, and a local friend coming round yesterday. In between, I was trying to write a report on a manuscript that had so much wrong with it that I didn't know where to start. Everything was wrong: title, plot, viewpoint, characters, writing style, grammar, punctuation and sheer lack of a hero. I am still struggling, trying to write a 2,500 word critique that doesn't sound completely condemning. Sometimes I wish I could just write the two words: Give up.

Here is the photo from my party night. Left to right: Bobbie, Gerry, me, Jill, Joan. Gerry's partner cooked the amazing lamb curry that we all consumed with gusto. I've known Bobbie since 1972 and the other three since '74. My friend from Liverpool, Claire, who came on Saturday, has been my buddy since we we met on our first day at school in 1950!!! I don't think anyone of us look too bad, for all our wrinkly years.

Mystery Solved!

It was my sister who sent me both anonymous presents that turned up - the carnivorous plants and a very pretty amber and silver bracelet. She is the most generous sister one could possibly have.

I'm feeling a bit despondent because the literary agent I bumped into on the tube hasn't responded to my email. She was super and I thought we really got on, but her heart must have sunk when I told her I was a writer seeking an agent and I suppose her invitation to email her was made purely out of politeness. Oh well, such is life, onward and upward and other such platitudes. No, what I really want to say is BUGGER AND SHIT!!!!!!!