The trip to the dentist turned out to be a rather perfunctory affair. I was in and out in less than five minutes and left feeling rather cheated if I'm honest.
My previous dentist, a charming but rather eccentric German call Rolf, yes really I didn't make that up, took up to twenty minutes to examine, clean and polish my mouth. The first thing he'd do when I sat in the chair was stick his fingers in my mouth and squeeze my tongue while announcing that, 'I am checking for the cancers.' I never quite worked out whether I found that reassuring or not. Yesterday's young lady barely touched me. She removed a bit of plaque and polished exactly three teeth before I was sent on my way. She did tell me off for brushing my gums to hard though. Examining my teeth at home they lacked the sparkle the cleans with Rolf managed
So this leaves me in a bit of a dilemma. I hate the dentist, doesn't everyone, but I know that keeping my teeth in tip top condition is essential when waiting for a transplant. She didn't even test if my caps were loose, something Rolf did with such vigor I was convinced he was going to pull them out. Nor did she poke around my fillings so I've been left with the uneasy feeling that I haven't been thoroughly checked, at least not as I'm used to. The normal me would be rejoicing at having got away so quickly. The pre-transplant me is worried that things might have been missed. So do I complain? Do I book in for another check with someone else? Or do I leave it and hope she knows what she is doing and everything is OK? I'm going to have to think about that one.
After all the running about to appointments and this, that and the other I slept like a log last night and feel so much better for it. I'm sure this has been helped in some part by the ditching of the winter duvet and the tiny slither Peter allowed the window to be opened. The battle for the window will go on until it gets really hot when he will then allow me to open it a couple of inches more.
This morning it was Tesco time, I couldn't be bothered yesterday, and time to do battle with harassed parents and screaming kids. I really, really, really hate shopping on a Saturday. The car park is always packed and you can't get around without having to shout 'excuse me' every five minutes, and then you are mostly ignored. Today was no different but we made it in an out in under and hour, a triumph by our experience.
This afternoon I'd planned to go out with my camera and take some pictures, something I haven't done since last summer, but the weather is against me yet again. Coming out of Tesco's we got soaked as the rain came down in buckets and drove home shivering in damp clothing. Let's just say my enthusiasm has been somewhat dampened, may tomorrow will be better.
In the news a disaster has occurred.
Not reported in any of the English newspapers or TV reports but deeply distressing to anyone of Welsh heritage, news that the National Library of Wales had caught fire. Some may be thinking 'so what', well to put it in perspective it is the Welsh equivalent of the British Library going up in flames.
I remember well being dragged up there by my mother to view the old maps and things on display and not being the slightest bit interested. I was heavily into Roman and Egyptian history at the time and anything home grown seemed boring, after all the Welsh are not exactly famous for their temples, pyramids or mummies. I also remember school trips during history lessons to view some document or other and being expected to show great reverence. How foolish one is when young, if any of those maps, books or documents have been destroyed I will be bereft and kicking myself that I didn't drink all that history in when I had the chance. No prizes for guessing where I'll be visiting when I next make it down to Aberystwyth.
Link to the full report here http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-mid-wales-22318791
Well time for lunch and to stare gloomily out on the rain and wonder if we've already had our summer this year.
My previous dentist, a charming but rather eccentric German call Rolf, yes really I didn't make that up, took up to twenty minutes to examine, clean and polish my mouth. The first thing he'd do when I sat in the chair was stick his fingers in my mouth and squeeze my tongue while announcing that, 'I am checking for the cancers.' I never quite worked out whether I found that reassuring or not. Yesterday's young lady barely touched me. She removed a bit of plaque and polished exactly three teeth before I was sent on my way. She did tell me off for brushing my gums to hard though. Examining my teeth at home they lacked the sparkle the cleans with Rolf managed
So this leaves me in a bit of a dilemma. I hate the dentist, doesn't everyone, but I know that keeping my teeth in tip top condition is essential when waiting for a transplant. She didn't even test if my caps were loose, something Rolf did with such vigor I was convinced he was going to pull them out. Nor did she poke around my fillings so I've been left with the uneasy feeling that I haven't been thoroughly checked, at least not as I'm used to. The normal me would be rejoicing at having got away so quickly. The pre-transplant me is worried that things might have been missed. So do I complain? Do I book in for another check with someone else? Or do I leave it and hope she knows what she is doing and everything is OK? I'm going to have to think about that one.
After all the running about to appointments and this, that and the other I slept like a log last night and feel so much better for it. I'm sure this has been helped in some part by the ditching of the winter duvet and the tiny slither Peter allowed the window to be opened. The battle for the window will go on until it gets really hot when he will then allow me to open it a couple of inches more.
This morning it was Tesco time, I couldn't be bothered yesterday, and time to do battle with harassed parents and screaming kids. I really, really, really hate shopping on a Saturday. The car park is always packed and you can't get around without having to shout 'excuse me' every five minutes, and then you are mostly ignored. Today was no different but we made it in an out in under and hour, a triumph by our experience.
This afternoon I'd planned to go out with my camera and take some pictures, something I haven't done since last summer, but the weather is against me yet again. Coming out of Tesco's we got soaked as the rain came down in buckets and drove home shivering in damp clothing. Let's just say my enthusiasm has been somewhat dampened, may tomorrow will be better.
In the news a disaster has occurred.
Not reported in any of the English newspapers or TV reports but deeply distressing to anyone of Welsh heritage, news that the National Library of Wales had caught fire. Some may be thinking 'so what', well to put it in perspective it is the Welsh equivalent of the British Library going up in flames.
I remember well being dragged up there by my mother to view the old maps and things on display and not being the slightest bit interested. I was heavily into Roman and Egyptian history at the time and anything home grown seemed boring, after all the Welsh are not exactly famous for their temples, pyramids or mummies. I also remember school trips during history lessons to view some document or other and being expected to show great reverence. How foolish one is when young, if any of those maps, books or documents have been destroyed I will be bereft and kicking myself that I didn't drink all that history in when I had the chance. No prizes for guessing where I'll be visiting when I next make it down to Aberystwyth.
Link to the full report here http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-mid-wales-22318791
Well time for lunch and to stare gloomily out on the rain and wonder if we've already had our summer this year.
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