I’m a worm but I don’t care.
Three months ago I began a new, full time job. I like it a lot and as it’s my first non-agency job for almost four years, I didn’t want to blow it. So for the last six weeks I’ve been suffering (quietly) from what feels like terminal toothache. I still have three months left on my probation so I didn’t want to take time off for frivolities.
Luckily this week my boss is away so tomorrow I’m going to the dentist. I think he’s going to yank two teeth and I absolutely cannot wait. I know, sad and pathetic, but it’s been a great way of losing weight. Fear of agony does that kind of thing – for me anyway. Those instant temporary fillings – rubbish. Pain killers – I’m immune to local anaesthetic so imagine my amusement when I woke up half way through the operation to extract my burst appendix.
Bring on the needle. The last time I went to the dentist and told her of my strange affliction vis a vis painkillers, she smiled grimly “Really?” she grunted as if her street cred was being impugned, “We’ll see about that.” Ten minutes later, happily zoned out, my entire body frozen and be-numbed, she informed me that she’d injected me with about a pint of ketamine. I didn’t know at the time what it was really used for. Do horses get toothache? The wisdom tooth slipped out in a flash and I dragged myself back home hanging onto every shop on the way with legs trying to stagger in every direction at the same time. I was nearly arrested for being drunk and disorderly.
My kindly dentist isn’t there tomorrow so I hope she keeps good records, because if I ask the new dentist for ketamine he’s probably going to throw me out, and presumably into the arms of the local feds. I don’t care provided the offending tooth stays inside.