Saturday, 18 September 2010

Dentistry Finishes, Starts Again

You might remember I spent many weekends of the last few months traipsing backwards and forwards to the dentist in Galle to have a crown fitted on a back molar. Each visit takes the best part of a day - there's not only the travelling but also the recovering. The return journey is the worst part with the bus being packed, having to stand, squashed, thrown about, and no prospect of seeing out of a window, music blaring, heat... you get the picture. On my last trip I was actually sick but just managed to get off the bus before throwing up. So, now that the dental work is complete, you can imagine my relief at having uninterrupted two-day weekends, doing what I want to do.

Not So Fast! Yesterday a front crown fell out! The post just snapped while I was munching on a grapefruit. You know that denial feeling - "No, it's not, I'm mistaken, it can't be, it's just a pip, I'm imagining it, please, no" ...... then the realisation "Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!"

So today it all starts again, and I'm feeling down.

I visit the UK in less than three weeks so I'd like this over before I go. Chances are not great.  I could try local dentists but no one recommends them. I could wait till I'm back in the UK but I don't want that precious time dominated by dental work. Plus the expense - I don't have insurance. I don't have a lot of choices.

Oh well, better get on with it.


Post Script :
The appointment with the dentist went OK, as much as these things can go OK. Looks like I need a 'bridge' because the pin on the broken tooth can't be extracted.  It's going to be a long process and will have to wait till I return from the UK. I had to fit in between appointments, have an X-ray in another department and see an Orthodontist in another surgery, 5km away, for advice. It all took time so when I finally caught the bus home it was already starting to get dark.  I found a small a/c bus from Galle to Matara with a seat so the 44 km journey went well. Then I needed to catch a slow bus to Tangalle. Maybe because it was the last slow bus of the day, it was packed. There was only standing room and I could see nothing.  As we jostled along I started to feel bad so I made my way to the back and spent the last 10km on the steps, hanging onto the door and vomiting out of the doorway. Not nice! When we eventually arrived in Tangalle I had to lean on the railings to recover, probably looking like a drunk. Urgh. My stomach muscles are still aching as I write this, 16 hours later.
This is horrible. I'm going to have to find some travel pills which don't give me a vicious headache like the last ones, else I don't know what I'm going to do. I won't survive these journeys otherwise. Next appointment for a temporary tooth is Tuesday...

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