A short while after penning this post in 2012, I had a little rethink. I tried to work out exactly where I was and who I was with the last time I went to a dentist and, following a quick recalculation based on those facts, realised that my last visit wasn't in in 1987 as I'd initially estimated, but actually in 1983. A couple of weeks ago I finally plucked up the courage, signed up to the same local dental surgery as Mrs S and went along for my first check up in 33 years. My new dentist, who wasn't even born the last time I set foot inside a surgery, expected the worst as I opened my cake-hole for inspection, but, with a couple of exceptions, was pleasantly surprised at the state of my molars. Yesterday I had a filling, taking care of the lesser of the problems he found. I was utterly terrified, but was a brave little soldier throughout the process. The other discovery made by my dentist came as no surprise, indeed I alluded to it in that post 4 years ago. A tooth at the back has crumbled beyond repair or possibility of normal extraction. It's never given me a moment of pain or discomfort, but surely will one day, so it has to be dug out - and it'll be a nasty job. I'm awaiting an appointment later in the year with a specialist, for which I will be given sedation. It'll be messy, but it's my own fault.Here are Chatham's finest and the only Dentists I've ever really cared for, with their classic début single from 1985, 'Strawberries are Growing in My Garden (and It's Wintertime)'.
