I'll Trust That One Other Dentist, Thanks...

Just a thought.

They’re all crooked

The younger Cat that owns this house has a problem with her coat. She moults for Queen and Country. Her fur ends up in a knotted mass and this young female has a rabid dislike of being brushed, combed, and generally handled.

Mrs FE had the bright idea of suggesting the local vetinary practice could take the pain and sort out the coat. (if you’ve ever been scratched by a demented cat, then you’ll know the pain).

So I took the bloody scrounging animal into the vet this morning, sat there for half an hour, and eventually managed to hand over the criminal for incarceration and a fur entanglement procedure.

Phone rings in the afternoon. “Can you pick up your cat”. OK I’ll do that.

If I’d known that they had to drug said cat, just to brush out the lumps of fur, I would have taken another course of action.

Why did they have to charge me £124 for an anaesthetic when I could have rendered the creature from hell, unconscious with a brick?

They’re worse than the dentistry profession.

Christmas, logs, and the dentist.

It was one of those days. Today I had an appointment with the dentist. As we’ve only got one car now, The second one being borrowed by the boy, I had to run Mrs FE into work. (She needs to be kept busy and out of my way otherwise this blog would cease to exist).

That task over, and having stopped to buy a paper, I spent an hour or so relaxing with multiple cups of coffee, and a good peruse through my RSS reader.

Seeing as I was due to visit Torquemada my dentist, I decided that a shower was needed to wash the smell of tobacco from my puny torso. Just to stop, said dentist, from wrinkling up his nose and giving me the usual lecture.

I’d just finished my shower and was just drying myself, all the time admiring my manly torso in the mirror, I heard a vehicle attempting to find a space on my drive. It was logman. (I’d ordered a load of logs for my open fire. Bugger global warming). In an instance I hot dressingowned to the front door, hair in disarray, to be confronted with a rather frightened character. (If you’d seen me, so would you be).

Unfortunately he ended up having to unload the bag of logs next to the car, instead of beside the house. I didn’t think any thing of it at the time. Until.

On setting out for the dentist I found that I couldn’t get into the car. Bugger.

A frantic twenty minutes ensued of log moving and eventually I managed to finally climb into the Ferrari, (I’m downplaying my actual car, I wouldn’t want you to be jealous dear reader), and of to the dentist.

Do you want to know what happened there? probably not but I’ll tell you anyway.

Last time I went to Vlad the impaler my dentist cut open my gum to insert somethings of which seemed like plastic bottle tops. Today the stitches were to be taken out. needless to say. The PAIN.

Of course I manfully withstood this. What really made me cry is that I’m expected to pay £3577 in January for the experience.

Another downside to Christmas is that Mrs FE has ordered a vast amount of presents on line. therefore I have become a prisoner in my home waiting for the deliveries. However I’ve met a lot of new people, I would never have met.

That was today. What will tomorrow bring?

I shall press all the numbers

 

For those that need help.

I should write a serious post, but I’m suffering from Post Traumatic Dentist Disorder. The Butcher dentist decided he would have fun cutting my gums apart again. I was about to take codeine till I read the warning on the packet. “Do not take if you have a stomach ulcer or have had one”.

Mind you the label didn’t state that I couldn’t numb the pain using medicinal whisky. Hic.

H/T to Dave via Email

UPDATE: The Movie

H/T Joe Public

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh.

Before you get comfortable let me warn me that this post has an X rating. Filled with pain, torture, cruelty, and bad language.

Turn away now.

I went to Vlad the impaler  the dentist yesterday.

Now my teeth have deteriorated over the years through all the bad habits of  eating too much sugary food, smoking drinking, and general other vices( Use your imagination here. Or maybe not).

I’d decided that my upper teeth were going to have a complete makeover and it was decided that a complete refurbishment was in order. Therefore some months ago Josef Mengele the dentist removed all those ailing gnashers and fitted me with a temporary denture. That was bad enough, in that I could only eat soup for a week until the pain from the removal settled down.

Not boring you I hope.

Any way whether you like it or not I shall continue.

yesterday was the  was the day for implants to be fitted into my upper jaw, to allow for a fixed plate. Now I should really have done a bit of research into the procedure. Stupidly I didn’t. If I had I’d probably have caught the first flight out of the country.

Three hours I was laid out on the rack the chair, FFS.

After at least enough anaesthetic to kill a couple of horses, which should of set alarm bells ringing, the work begun.

1. Cut open the upper gum. Bloody hell it took forever. Apparently I had the toughest gums known to man according to the sadist my dentist. (doesn’t do much for his original diagnoses that I suffered from sever gum disease, does it?).

2. Enough X rays were then taken to make me glow in the dark and set off airport scanners, most like.

3. The drill, the drill. Ok that wasn’t too bad.  Four holes in all.

4.  Another gallon or two of anaesthetic as the first lot was wearing off.

5.  Next was the inserting of the implants. These were of the self tapping variety inserted with a ratchet spanner until they were tight.

6. Now I’ve been a marine engineer for many a year and have cheated at times when the screw needs a helping hand ie with a hammer. Not approved engineering practise needless to say. I think he must have had a inferior apprenticeship to me, as he loved his hammer. Have you ever had your jaw bone hit with a hammer? It feels as if someone has rung the great peels of the bells of Westminster Abbey, in your head.

7. It’s over. No it’s not. The Executioner  decides  TFE would be advised to have one more implant (bastard). So it begins again.

8. As I posted in para 1, about cutting open my gums with a shovel (at least that’s what it felt like), of course now he has to rectify his butchery finely crafted work. Stitches had to undertaken. Though I would have preferred he used a needle rather than a crochet hook.

9. Done. Well not quite. I was ambushed on exit by the prison wardress receptionist in order to that I pay for the privilege of being tortured to within an inch of my life. Not cheap I can tell you.

Now comes for the crunch. There are rules to be observed for the next week.

No hot drinks.

No smoking.

No alcohol.

Wash my mouth out with salt water. (No, not soap and water)

A soft diet. (Whatever that means?)

Needless to say I have ignored every one of those above. After 3 hours of leaving Gitmo the surgery, my upper jaw felt as if it had been attacked by a team of Irish navvies on piece work. To cap it all, this morning I woke up to find my pillows covered in enough blood to make an axe murderer proud.

Oh and I’m back on a diet of soup. And enough pills to kill one of those horses mentioned above.

Don’t forget to book your dentist appointment on a regular basis. Best you read this on a regular basis just to make sure.

It hurts

Blogging maybe light. I’ve just come back from some major dentistry and the painkillers are wearing off.

Things you didn’t know about smoking. Part 3.

Smoking Does Not Increase Risk Of Receding Gums

Smokers are not at higher risk of developing receding gums than are non-smokers.
Present data do not support the hypothesis that smokers are at greater risk, say researchers in Heidelberg, Koblenz and Münster, Germany.
The researchers noted that smoking is a major risk factor for destructive periodontal disease. There was only limited information, however, about how smoking affected people with minimal periodontal destruction.
To assess the development of gingival recession, the researchers made four assessments over six months of clinical periodontal conditions in 61 systemically healthy volunteers aged 19-30 years. Of these, 30 smoked at least 20 cigarettes a day and 31 did not smoke.
At the outset, about half of both groups had receding gums at one or more sites.
There was severe gum recession of more than two millimetres in more than three times as many non-smokers (23 percent) as among smokers (7 percent). Further gum recession developed during the study.
The risk of recession did not seem to be influenced by smoking status once statistical adjustments had been made for various factors. These included periodontal probing depth, recession at baseline, how often the volunteers brushed their teeth, their sex, their tooth type and the site of periodontal disease.

Read this Mr dentist of mine.

I may not return......

No I'm not stopping Blogging. It's time for the DENTIST.

Oh, and just to make it worse. He'll try and castigate me for the evils of smoking.

Water off a duck's back.

 

UPDATE: I survived.

Mugged during torture

I've just been fleeced.

Went to the dentist last week and submitted myself to the tender ministrations of the hygienist. (I think they train them in Guantanamo).

Having been out of the country for long periods, I've ended up as a private patient. The cost though is taking the Michael. £125 for an hour's worth of torture is surely not right. Even taking in overheads of say £25 per hour for anaesthetics, rent, rates, etc, how can they justify their charges?

For an average day that would work out at £800 per day, £4000 per week, £192,000 per year.

Does anyone know how to enroll in this well paid torture profession?

guess what? I've got the High Priest, His Holiness the Dentist, tommorow.

Wish me luck. If I do not return here then ....................................