I really love my dentist

Officially, I am a wimp – a fact proven by a broken tooth. It happened on Friday evening while feasting on roast chicken and spicy rice.

The chicken was supposed to be deboned but, with my luck, I bit into a chunk of bone on my second mouthful.

Instinctively, I thought the chicken was still alive and fighting for its very survival, armed with a scalpel inside my mouth.

The pain was excruciating. I screamed. My eyes were watering from the hot spices.

Then reality struck. I got that sickening feeling when I realised my teeth were no longer chewing my food but were trying to grind each other to a powder.

There was also a razor-sharp edge of broken tooth shaving my tongue every time I swallowed or breathed.

It was going to be a long weekend so I immediately set about administering the three most trusted home remedies to alleviate toothache: clove oil, over-the-counter painkillers and brandy heated slightly in the microwave.

The brandy seemed by far the most successful of the three and I administered a number of doses.

It worked wonders with my tongue too, as he lay semiconscious in my c, not going near the feared tooth.

Saturday morning, however, brought more misery. Not only did my head now cause me even more pain and discomfort than my mouth, but I was beyond thirsty.

Obviously, I hadn’t quite considered all the side-effects of my medication when treating myself the night before.

Swallowing was even more painful, but I had to quench my thirst.

With my body now revolting at the mere thought of more home medication, my next plan was to manufacture a temporary filling using chewing gum.

The success of this experiment is debatable, but at least I managed to get some food down.

I got to my dentist at 11am on Monday morning and exactly eight minutes later the tooth was out and the pain was gone.

I never thought I’d say this, but I really love my dentist.

Danie Toerien.

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