My mouth hurts.....

I have toothache. Or, to be more accurate, I have pain in my mouth near my teeth.

I don’t actually think it is toothache per se. I’ve had that before, and it’s like having a hammer drill going at it in your mouth all the time and at double speed when you dare to move your head.

This, I think, is just an enormous ulcer at the back of my mouth where my embedded wisdom teeth leave a teensy gap between the gum and the fleshy part of my cheek. I’ve had a good gawp at it in a very bright light this morning (you know, in front of the mirror with a torch, pulling a sort of gurning competition face with my mouth stretched out) and that’s what it looks like, almost like some sort of giant, pulsating, slimy protuberance with a life of its own. Disgusting, isn’t it?

I have started to assault it with Corsodyl mouth wash (foul, but effective), a Corsodyl spray and some sort of industrial strength Bonjela type substance called Gingigel. Also rather foul, but something which in the past I have found effective.

I always do this for at least a fortnight before I even think of going to the dentist unless the pain is excruciating and preventing me living my life. I have a fear and hatred of visits to the dentist which is not equalled by my feelings about anything else associated with the normal routine of life. I have blogged before about my complete failure to see the need for six monthly or even annual checkups so long as you have good oral hygiene and don’t regularly crack your enamel on packets of rock hard pork scratchings. You don’t go to the doctors for a routine check up, so why the dentist? Just go when you have something wrong with you, for goodness sake.

The Hubby, who was brainwashed by his dentistry practising (and subsequently rich) ex sister in law, always goes along like a good little boy for his checkups and annual lecture from the hygienist. But it’s all to no avail; he has had more trouble with his teeth in the past five years than I have had in the whole of my five decades.

I am not afraid of needles, drills or anaesthetic. What I hate (really, really hate) is ‘things’ intruding into my mouth (ribald jokes now – come on, get them over with). I have a very strong gagging reflex, and just one little metal implement poking around my gums makes me retch. And as for those little square things they put into your cheeks to take x-rays , well, I’m outta there!

So I won’t be going to the dentist, at least not unless I really have to. My self help remedies from Boots have always worked so far, even if I have had to persist for a few days and run the risk of being a drooling slime monster when out in public as my mouth produces more saliva to cope with and try to counteract the alien presence growing within.

Increasing mouth ulcers and gum issues seem to be yet another thing which is increasing with my ‘certain age’. There is a definite link between when these things happen and other biological happenings, on a regular basis. And these are the things no one tells you about; yes, they tell you about hot flushes, mood swings, erratic monthly cycles etc, but not about an upset digestive system, aches and pains and dentistry difficulties.

I tell you, it’s a pain in the arse being a woman in her fifties – you blokes have it easy!

Dentists - agents of Satan.....?

We all have our favourite pet hates when it comes to professions. For some people it’s bankers, for some politicians, maybe estate agents, lawyers or accountants or for others, like me, it’s dentists. And hygienists.

I hate going to the dentist with a vengeance. It’s expensive, uncomfortable and you get an unwanted lecture into what a bad, unhygienic person you are and how you must have appalling eating habits or personal hygiene. “Look” says the hygienist sticking a sharp implement into your gums, “It’s bleeding”. “Yes”, you reply grimacing, “It damn well is now”.

The frequency with which we visit the dentist often doesn’t (in my opinion) make any difference to whether you have good or bad teeth or gums. The Hubby diligently goes to the dentist every six months for a check up and a lecture by the hygienist. Personally, I think he was brainwashed by his ex sister-in-law who was a dentist and was married to a dentist. He seems to be of the view that if he doesn’t go somehow or other that makes him into a bad person and all his teeth will rot, go black and fall out.

As for me, on the other hand, well I haven’t been to the dentist for years. I did pop in about 18 months ago for a quick check up when I had a sore gum, was just about to go on holiday and didn’t fancy having to go for emergency treatment at a Greek dentist's surgery, but that aside, it must be at least seven years since I went for anything at all.

There is a reason for this. I am not afraid of blood, drills, needles, weird masks or chemical substances but I have a pathological fear of too many things in my mouth which, because I have a very strong gagging reflex, make me want to retch. Yes, I simply cannot stand anyone putting anything I don’t want them to into my mouth (ribald jokes, now, please, get them out of the way before we go any further!) In particular, I am up and out of that chair in a flash if I see those little rectangular things they tuck into your cheeks to take an x-ray coming towards me. God, I feel sick even just thinking about it!!

Taking all that into account, who do you think has spent the most emergency time at the torturer’s surgery and spent the most money on dental work in the past few years? Yep, you got it in one! The Hubby has spent a fortune on various fillings, caps and whatever despite the fact that he goes along religiously, brushes at least twice a day, flosses and uses mouthwash. I do all that stuff at home (well, not the flossing. Bloody stuff gets stuck between my teeth, even the waxed version) and despite my ‘just once in seven years’ visit when no work was done, I have no problems.

So is there really anything in the assertion (put about by dentists, of course) that we must get along and get our teeth checked out regularly or they will all fall out and we will all become diseased, ugly, toothless crones and hags? Personally, whilst regular check ups appear to be eminently sensible for children up to the age of maybe 16, for adults I don’t think so. I think that as long as you have good personal hygiene habits which include regular oral routines, and you have practised those good habits from childhood, then you shouldn’t need to go. You don’t go to the doctor for preventative visits, so why should you go to the dentist? It’s all a con to justify their enormous charges and buy their next Jag or next seven star holiday in Bermuda.

Toothache, or any sort of oral pain is, of course, almost some of the worst you can experience without having a life threatening condition. And when you do have a problem a good dentist, like a good emergency doctor, can be like an angel from heaven. But let’s get this in perspective and recognise the brainwashing for what it is.

And I’m not going, even though you’ve written to me this week and ticked me off for not attending an appointment in ages or finishing a ‘prescribed’ course of treatment (what treatment? I don’t remember that!). So there!

Head pain! Urgh!

The Hubby has been suffering badly with his teeth over the last few days. He has had chronic tooth ache in a tooth which had a root canal filling about 18 months ago. He went to the emergency dentist who told him that he had an infection and possibly a bit of the nerve was still there. The treatment 18 months ago cost about £300, so it's a bit bloody rich that he might now have to have more work done because the first lot wasn't properly completed.

I hate the dentist and I haven't been for quite some time. Even more, I hate the hygienist who pokes and prods, gives you a lecture then charges you a fortune for the privilege.

Any sort of pain in your head is awful, whether it be migraine, sinus pain or toothache. A few years ago I had to have a tooth taken out and the pain was excruciating. I have also suffered from blocked sinuses (quite regularly) before I had my rhinoplasty and spent days lying on a sofa trying not to move my head which felt like it had daggers driving into it. I am totally sympathetic to anyone suffering from any of these things which can incapacitate you for days.

So far, The Hubby is three days into a course of Amoxicillin and is getting through the paracetamol and ibuprofen like it is going out of fashion. But it does all seem to be calming down, and hopefully they will do the trick (Yesterday I thought he was going to expire as he looked so ill and was counting the minutes until the next dose!).

Inevitably, he will have to go back to the dentist and there will be more cost. It is ironic that he goes religiously for his check ups, sees the hygienist, flosses and uses a state of the art electric toothbrush and has had all this trouble whereas I never go to the dentist or the hygienist, don't floss and use an old fashioned manual toothbrush and my teeth seem to be fine (fingers crossed).

It's good job I'm OK and don't get anything serious (tempting fate writing that!). I can't take penicillin in any form, can't take erythramycin and medics always have to get their book out and scratch their heads when I need antibiotics. 

It would be good to get through 2012 without any more serious health issues. My knees are not right yet, nor is my back and I can see myself having back surgery within the next year, so I don't want anything else.

Keep your fingers crossed for me!

A visit to the dentist - no!!!

I will have to go to the dentist soon.

It's not a scheduled appointment, I don’t do those, but I have a nasty pain at the back of my mouth where the wisdom tooth is and it won't go away. I don't think it's the tooth - if it were I would be jumping around in agony - but it's either a humungous ulcer or an abscess and it hurts.

I haven’t been to the dentist for ages. I am not afraid of drills or needles, but I simply don’t like all those nasty metal implements in my mouth; the very sight of them makes me gag. And those unpleasant things they shove into your mouth to take x-rays are no-no’s altogether. Nothing is guaranteed to get me out of that dentist’s chair quicker than the sight of those rectangular pieces of plastic which they put into each cheek.

Generally speaking, my gnashers are in pretty good shape. Nice and white and strong. I brush regularly and thoroughly, and never have nasties such as bleeding gums. I have all my teeth except one which I cracked eating a particularly large, hard pork scratching a few years ago (I’m such a sophisticate!), very few fillings and no damaged enamel - for an old girl of 50, that’s not bad going.

Even more than the dentist, I hate the hygienist. Why on earth would I pay extra to sit there while some woman scrapes away at my teeth and gums, makes them bleed and gives me a lecture into the bargain. “Your gums are full of plaque, Mrs White, look, they’re bleeding” she says smugly as she pushes a sharp implement into aforementioned gums. Yes, they damn well are now, you sadistic cow!

I suppose if I went to the dentist regularly I would avoid having to go in an emergency, but I’m always hopeful that anything will clear up in its own time with plentiful applications of Corsodyl and Bonjela. I’ve been to Boots today and stocked up on the dental first aid just to give it my best shot before taking extreme measures and parting with my money. I have deliberately made the appointment for two weeks time in the hope that self medication will work this time too, in the knowledge that if it doesn’t and it gets worse they will always find you an emergency slot and by then I will be in so much pain that I won’t care what they do as long as they help me.

I suppose there are some nice dentists (in fact I know there are as I know one or two socially) but as soon as I see them with that little mirror and sharp pointy thing in their hands they all assume the air of Jack the Ripper in my mind, leering at you from behind their plastic mask and tilting the chair back so there is no escape from their evil clutches.  If I ever need serious work done on my teeth, they will have to knock me out with huge quantities of gas.

So for the next fortnight I will be administering my over the counter remedies assiduously and psyching myself up for a possible torture session. I will let you know how I get on!