Why is it that we spend a fortune on dental care, only to suffer such pain? I've been in pain now for a week and a half, after four visits for something not at all serious - a replacement plate. Can I admit to wearing a plate now I'm this age? It's one of those things we don't like to talk about, but I wonder why, as if we've done something shameful, or neglected to care for our teeth.
It's not so with me; when my adult teeth came through, the four at extreme corners of my mouth were already decayed and had to be removed immediately. This may have been as a result of bad health as a young child and medication for this. Who knows? Whatever the reason I've always looked after my mouth as much as I could. Regular check-ups too.
My dentist has lost its NHS funding, so I've now paid over £300 for the privilege of receiving pain. I'm no stranger to pain; I've had eight operations, so there must have been some pain along the way, most of it long forgotten. When it interferes with my enjoyment of food though, or even conversation, it's serious! Not in terms of life-threatening of course, but quality of life. I'll give the pain one more day, then I'm back again, if not for satisfaction, at least for a refund. Start again maybe. We'll see. The dentist I saw won't be there; he headed off for his own country, Romania, about five minutes after trying to put me right the other day! Coincidence or what?
Mike wanted to see the axe men, and they also were well worth watching - looked dangerous to me. With my passion for dogs, I was pleased that they were followed by the Hearing Dogs for the Deaf - wonderful animals.
Food halls also very tempting! Bought some delicious Dorset cheese with garlic and chives.
Mike's diabetes has been playing up badly over the past few weeks. Having to test blood three times a day and most days very low readings. Would you believe the diabetic nurse only works two days a week in our surgery, when the papers keep reporting that the nation is over-run with diabetics? Crazy or what?
Poor chap had appointment at Swanage Hospital on Monday for eyes, not a problem connected with diabetes as it happens, and he's now waiting for an appointment at Bournemouth Eye Hospital for laser treatment. Wednesday saw us at Dorchester hospital for an x-ray appointment for him.
Tomorrow he's having some cryotherapy (freezing) at the doctors' surgery, Wednesday reporting to diabetic nurse to see if she can help with the readings, and so it goes on. Is this what being retired is all about? Thursday we're taking my brother to hospital in Blandford, probably collecting him later the same day; if not it will be the following day but they'll have to transfer him to Dorchester if he needs to stay the night.
At least some people are managing to be given appointments. I must return to the surgery to try to see a particular GP, as when I tried to make an appointment the week before last I was told to phone in a couple of weeks as she couldn't give me anything. Since I've not seen him since about February I don't think I'm asking for the moon.
Enough of this pensioner's ranting. A more pleasant situation was a puppy party I attended with my neighbour who has recently acquired a black labrador puppy. It was to socialise young puppies, and there were about eight or nine there, all friendly to each other. It's what I would describe as heaven, being with so many dogs at the same time. Lovely.