Friday, June 12, 2009

Virility And Decrepitude

My visits to the dentist are becoming quite depressing.

While my dentist has become younger (and female), I’ve got older. And stayed male. Though the latter isn’t yet cause for bi-polar disorder.

My previous dentist, the wonderfully named Mr Twiss, retired about 2 years ago. He was an odd man. Physically he resembled John McCririck only without the be-chained spectacles and the penchant for bookie sign language – that would have been most off-putting while he was rummaging around in my mouth – we have a compacted wisdom tooth coming in at 5-1...

Towards the end he’d become rather portly and had trouble bending himself over his opulent belly. This may explain why my appointments with him were so brief and so pleasingly work-free. Of course his imminent retirement might have had a lot to do with the lack of commissioned dental work as well. He was just coasting along, doing as little as possible, trying to avoid topping someone with an overdose of Novocain or whatever it is they use these days. He was just happy to chat and scrape off the odd bit of plaque while I stared up at the impressive ginger topiary that sprouted forth from his nostrils.

My new dentist, Dr Hassan, is the complete opposite. Female, Arabic, nothing at all like the dreaded McCririck and her nose – from what I’ve seen of it (and I’ve seen quite a bit) – is mercifully hair free. As clean as the torpedo tubes on a Russian nuclear sub in fact. Thankfully she’s not launched any salvoes my way while I’ve been reclining beneath her.

Now there’s a line for a bodice ripper if ever I heard one.

The biggest difference though is that Dr Hassan is conscientious to the point of costing me vast sums of money every time I visit her. Mr Twiss would sting me for an average of £15 per visit. Dr Hassan finds enough work to do to cost me £50. Usually it’s a “scrape and polish”. Something that never bothered me much as a child but is now extremely painful due to the sensitive nature of my aged gums.

Yesterday she announced somberly that I’m beginning to lose bone.

I nearly replied that having my jaw clamped open while having my molars slashed with a mini chainsaw was hardly going to get me in the mood... but quickly comprehended that she was referring to my teeth...

Apparently I’m losing bone at the front bottom portion of my jaw. I’m still not entirely sure what this means. I’ve always had a weak chin... does this mean it’s getting weaker?

Anyway, the upshot is I have to be more brutal with my brushing regime. This will supposedly encourage my gums to “firm up” and hold on more tightly to my incisors.

It seems they are in danger of falling out next time I snap them down onto a Yorkie.

This apparently is just a normal sign of old age and general wear and tear. Nothing much to worry about.

But I do worry.

I miss Mr Twiss. For all Dr Hassan’s nose is far more pleasant to look up, Mr Twiss always made me feel young and robust.

Dr Hassan makes me feel like I’m crumbling away beneath her impressively blue aproned breasts.

It’s not a nice feeling. Especially when I’m being charged £50 for it.


18 comments:

justme said...

I feel your pain! Trips to the dentist invariable cost me huge sums of money these days, and gums are in similar dodgy state...

Steve said...

Justme: Each time I go I feel like I'm failing my own personal MOT...

A Write Blog said...

Wait 'til you're my age Steve.

I go to see these 'earnest' young things, be they doctors or whatever and I see them looking at me as though I'm a creature from another planet - as though to say, 'How could you let yourslef get like that?' I just think, 'You wait'

As for teeth. I was told I had very long roots which must mean that when my gums recede into nothingness I'll have a beautfifully toothsome smile that will scare the hell out of those I choose to smile at.

Steve said...

AWB: in many ways I ought to count my blessing - I've never needed an oil change and the tyres still have plenty of tread... I think maybe I ought to get rid of the furry dice though...

Owen said...

Ah Steve, as always your writing is, well how can I put it ?... enchanting ? captivating ? picturesque ? provocative ?

All I can say, is at least your new dentist seems to be keeping you well abreast of your dental state. Don't ask me why, but I have this funny mental image of you in the destist chair reclined way back, your hands gripping the handrests of the chair with white knuckles and a fine sheen of sweat on your brow from exerting every ounce of willpower to keep them there...

And it sounds like you succeeded, which is good, because you do not want to offend a lady who has a whole array of sharp instruments within reach; you might not look as nice as you do now with a dental pick sticking out of your forehead... ;-D

Steve said...

Indeed Owen, and I must point out at this juncture that my wife is superlatively attractive and intelligent and not another woman on this planet can hold a candle to her (even is she be a qualified high class orthodontist) especially as my wife is currently chopping onions with a rather large kitchen lazer knife...

Reluctant Blogger said...

Well, I think there should be scientific experiments with identical twins that set out to establish whether spending vast sums at the dentist actually serves any purpose at all. I'm not convinced I must say. But am rather glad I am not an identical twin as I wouldn't want to be experimented on.

I used to chat to this guy at the ski club for years and then one day I asked what he did and he said he was dentist. I thought afterwards that he was probably looking at my teeth and searching for potential cavaties every time we chatted and I avoided him after that.

Teeth are strange things really when you think about them. Not very appealing really.

The Sagittarian said...

My dentist is a wonderful fella called george. He is shorter than me (that in itself is a trick and a half apparently) and Greek, but he has an excellent manner. So much so that its usually not until I'm driving numbly away from his clinic (it un-nerves me the way they call it a 'practise") that I realise I'm suddenly a lot poorer!

skatey katie said...

what is it with old grey portly dentists with veritable bushes sprouting from their nostrils?
egads X

Steve said...

Gina: they aren't very appealing but having no teeth at all is even less appealing! Besides which, I'd get tired of eating soup all day...!

Amanda: a good bedside manner has lightened many a wallet (as any politician in Amsterdam will tell you). ;-)

Kate: I think it's a prerequisite of the job. It gives patients something to focus upon while they try and cope with the pain.

missbehaving said...

This post made me think of Pam Ayers (sp)
" I wish I'd looked after me teeth..."
I hit 40 thinking I looked/felt/was great for 40 and promptly fell to bits.

Steve said...

Missbehaving: ah Pam Ayres... a voice and an accent from my childhood. I seem to recall she had a funny lopsided smile. Any more trips to the dentist and I'll probably look the same...

Matthew Rudd said...

Do what I do - don't go the dentist. It saves me a fortune and is quite painless too...

Steve said...

Matthew: I'm beginning to think you're right...

Owen said...

Steve, I can see you are a very astute husband... by all means placate the missus with superlative adjectives whenever she is near the kitchen knives ! Especially if you've just been writing about a shapely dentist, and your wife saw the writing in question... if I were you I would get her some roses and take her out for dinner this weekend (your wife, not the dentist) :-D

Steve said...

Owen, I couldn't afford the ruddy dentist...! ;-)

Actually I have just bought my wife a garden table and chair set. I think I'm safe from rogue kitchen blades for the time being... of if not, if I end up in the dog house I'll have somewhere nice to sit...

Sweet Cheeks said...

Wonderful Steve!

Listen to your dentist. Do you use an electric toothbrush? You should. It would help your gums immensely!

All of us lose bone as we age. Be happy you still have them. My mom lost her teeth at age 20 due to lack of proper dental care growing up.

Kisses~
:)

Steve said...

Sweet Cheeks: I do indeed use an electric toothbrush - though sometime I think an eclectic one might suit me better...! :-)