ROOT CANAL SURGERY DAY.
But first the 7am work shift.
It was the usual 6:55am panic of Anna disappearing back to S Ldn, Dotty trying to follow her down to the train station and me setting up the work tools.
I turned on the Ashes for a more peaceful introduction to the day.
I managed to fit a brief swim in ahead of the dentist doing the drill thing.
The swim was a little rubbish. Once again the pool had lost a couple of inches in water depth.
It did provide me with the pre-dentist distraction that I was looking for.
There’s no getting out of this, is there?
I had paid in full up front for four appointments, knowing that I would bottle it otherwise.
I am more of a tight arse than I am a poor patient.
And that’s saying something.
I cycled past the University at a slow pace, en route to the dentist as a condemned man.
The staff are of course LOVELY.
As are the other patients waiting for their call. If you ever want to strike up a shared worldview of peace, love and understanding, then the waiting room of a dentist is a decent starting point.
You are all too shit scared to disagree.
I spent a pleasant ten minutes talking about the Neighbourhood Plan before my name was called.
I didn’t know what was coming. My mistake was to ask for clarification.
I surrendered myself and buckled in for the ride.
A rubber mask was stretched over my chin. I wasn’t sure what this was for.
Five minutes later and the saliva dribbling down the mask made it all clear.
I was more concerned about the anaesthetic wearing off than the actual drilling and prodding.
Shaky’s ACE Merry Christmas Everyone came on the crappy dentist’s radio. My Pavlovian response was to do the Shaky leg shake.
“Are you OK, Sir?”
…what a nice way, to end the year etc.
Forty five minutes later and we were all done.
My next appointment is due on Christmas Day.
But that ‘aint happening.
My resolve to stay BOOZE free throughout this treatment is proving to be a little testing.
I recovered back at base with a little more work, and some Buzz and Chronic action.
Hard cash was handed over late afternoon for Christmas Day dinner. I went down to the boozer and coughed up the deposit. I’m still not convinced that we are booked in.
Work, work and a little more work.
I then attempted to eat some food for the first time in twelve hours.
Toffee wasn’t on the menu.
I flicked between the Chelsea, Man Utd and Celtic Champions League games throughout the evening.