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The Truth Behind British Dentistry: A Wuss’ Story

Some of the things Britain brought the world through invention and discovery:

Clocks.
Pencils.
Christmas Cards.
Vitamins.
Anaesthetic.
Gravity.

Now, can anyone tell me why the nation that invented the fucking Harrier jet has third world dental care?

I can make use of all the aforementioned discoveries of the UK (probably not the harrier jet, to be fair but I’ve found gravity to be quite useful) but tomorrow I have a dental appointment, and I am shitting myself.

I haven’t been in 5 years, following an unpleasant appointment whereupon the dentist stabbed me with a needle about 4 times around the same tooth and decided ‘meh, that’s as good as it’s going to get’ and starts drilling.

His injections had all failed, so when he slipped with the drill and went through my gum – I felt it.

Sooooo…. that’s why I haven’t been in 5 years. My teeth are a nightmare, though surprisingly painless.

The tooth he drilled through has, remarkably, broken. The milk tooth he assured me would never break, is breaking. The adult canine which should have replaced it that he insisted wasn’t there, is growing out behind my other teeth.
The tooth I broke by opening a beer bottle using my mouth…. well, ok, that one’s on me.

Being afraid of going to the dentist in this country is a badge of honour. All of us have a horror story and will do anything we possibly can to weasel out of going – not because we don’t worry about our teeth, we genuinely do, but because we know that British dentists will cause us pain, do a terrible job and then charge us for the privilege.

Jeremy Kyle: The Talk Show That Can Make You Feel Better, Whatever Your Problem

 

 

The only reason I’m going at all (clearly needing to go wasn’t enough of a motivation, following the last fiasco) is that my mum has made me an appointment with her dentist and has promised to hold my hand and make sure I don’t make a break for it out of the waiting room. That’s right…. I’m only going because my mother is going to take care of me. She and I may have had some pretty significant differences of late, but right now I’m reduced to a shaking 5 year old.

The more amusing side of this story is that her dentist has asked her out for dinner on a number of occasions. I’m really not sure how I feel about allowing the bloke who wants to make sweet, sweet music with my mother, rummage around my mouth.

So, I’m going to be a brave girl tomorrow and go to the dentist because that’s the grown up thing to do. And because my mum has promised to take me out for a milkshake afterwards if I’m good.

Please tell me the wonderful made up stuff you’re going to give me for going…. I’d like a unicorn, please.

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10 comments on “The Truth Behind British Dentistry: A Wuss’ Story

  1. Hey, at least you guys invented the Harrier Jets, and pencils. We would still be scratching things on stone tablets if it weren’t for that.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I only just saw this post, so you’ve probably been to the dentist already. If you’re reading my comment, you have survived the experience (I wrote my Will before attending the Orthodontist for a gum apicectomy). Then I was the luckiest girl alive, as the orthodontist didn’t agree with the dentist and sent me home without carrying out the procedure. Seriously, though, I’ve tried out NHS dentists to my detriment. Ultimately, they end up more expensive than going privately, as work needs redoing. On one occasion, when totally strapped for cash, I attended an NHS dentist for a check-up and a scale. The scale involved 5 minutes with what I call the “sandblaster”, whereas the private dentist would take nearly half-an-hour, using various implements to clean under the gumline before carrying out a gentle polishing. Within 2 weeks of the NHS dentist’s scale, I had sensitive, puffy, bleeding gums. For the 6 months between my private appointments, my gums are never sensitive, puffy, or bleeding. That being said, if your dentist is sweet on your mum, perhaps he’ll do an excellent job on your teeth.
    PS My husband always says that if it weren’t for dentists, opticians, and vets, we’d be moderately well off.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I wish I hadnt read this sat in the waiting room 😆

      I’m going to go private as soon as I can possibly afford it, with a dentist with a non-British name and qualification!

      Liked by 1 person

      • Oh dear, I didn’t time that very well. If your dentist gets out the sandblaster, ask him why he’s not cleaning around the gumline first. Yes, my dentist is Malaysian and a doctor of dentistry. She’s also really funny, cheerful and chatty. The only frustrating thing is that she says all sorts of entertaining things when she’s working on my teeth and I can’t reply until she has finished. So I wouldn’t let her see the cat making a rude sign if wearing a T-shirt like yours, as she’s pretty cool as far as dentists go.
        PS Now I’m wondering if you live anywhere near me in the UK, in case she could be your dentist, too. I’m on the SE coast.

        Like

      • I’m up in the NW – good news from the dentist though, after 5 years of hiding from his profession, the only work I need doing is a correction on both my last fillings.

        That’s next week’s nightmare to look forward to 😐

        Liked by 1 person

      • That’s really good news after 5 years of hiding. Congratulations! Out of interest, which brand of toothpaste do you use? I use a non-fluoride aloe vera one, as the commercial toothpastes give me mouth ulcers.

        Liked by 1 person

      • I vary, my favourites are the colgate whitening crystal one and sensodyne enamel care.

        I focus on enamel care, I’d rather they were strong than white 😄

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Ugh! I feel your pain. I avoid the dentist and doctor like the plague… Unless I had the plague. I would probably want to go then. Sorry to hear about your non-trip to Ireland. I suspect you will still visit the land of fairies long before I ever do. If that makes you feel any better… 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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