Your body works with you. That’s always been my belief. That’s a lie, it became my belief when almost all the other constituents of my life felt like they were crumbling away. At that point, my body whispered in my ear ‘hey fatty it’s time to get real’. And the millions of times my mother had told me to ‘put my health first’ seemed to finally sink in.
Your mouth frames your words and your teeth are the keys of your vocal piano – I hadn’t seen to my keys for a number of years (5+) and to be honest my vocal piano was out of tune (enough of the piano already)… So I started being treated at Tribeca Dental Clinique (I have no idea why they didn’t settle on clinic, it’s a bit like ‘Niteclub’ isn’t it?
If you have never experienced dental scaling and scraping, image someone stapling your lips back to your face and being pulled face down tied to a truck along a roughly asphalted road. It’s a bit like that.
The man who performed this act of torture, up there with water-boarding, really infuriated me the first time by absolutely ignoring any attempt to be social, instead waiting for the 24 litres of lidocaine to work whilst snapping on his latex gloves. I thought it was the most impolite of manners, and glared at him whilst he raped my teeth.
At the end of the experience, which lasted a good 4 days, when at the checkout – welcome to healthcare 2009 – I looked across to him and realised why he didn’t make friends with me. It’s that thing where hostages fall in love with their captors. If I started to like him, following his torturous acts, I might fall in love with him and when I fall in love with you, it’s like being hit by a sherman tank with no brakes. He was saving himself.
More importantly he was saving my teeth – and my pride. I’m delighted that I managed to see this through. My heart is lighter, my teeth are lighter and most telling – my wallet is floating.
