Hand in mouth

As a small child I went to the school dentist, and then my Mum got us all under a local dentist. (Dental treatment was free from 1948 when the NHS began, however, demand led to it being overwhelmed and charges for general treatment were introduced as early as 1952.) Us being me, my mum and my gran. I don't think my grandfather or great-grandmother were ever persuaded to go, and indeed my gran walked out never to return after she'd had an injection one day - not even having the filling the injection was for.

Me though, I've been going regularly for the last sixty-something years, so why do I still hate it? A visit to the dentist hangs over my week like an executioner's sword and I approach the surgery with the same apprehension I would the guillotine.

It's not the pain: for many years I've had very little done and I've not really been hurt since I was much younger - and techniques were less pain-free. I think it's more the potential for pain. The thought that at any moment the dentist might squirt air at a particularly sensitive bit of gum, or scrape a tooth that little bit carelessly. You can't relax in the dentist's chair. Even today for my check-up I found myself frowning in dread in the chair.

Then there's the knowledge you're going to want to swallow the instant the dentist has her hand, a pointy instrument, and a sucker thing in your mouth. And the instant of panic when she stops at your grunted request for you to swallow and you've lost the ability. You can't remember how to swallow.

Anyway I was in and out in five minutes today. And that included a tongue and gum check. She did say I had a little bit of plaque on my two front teeth and I could see the hygienist if I wanted to (for £59). "No!" The hygienist terrifies me even more than the dentist. The way she scrapes and chips, it can't be good for my teeth, even if, as I'm informed by the writing on the wall, enamel is the hardest thing in my body.

* * * * *

Zac's last night went fine. The person I'd worried about was silent the whole evening! Apparently she was making lots of notes so I imagine she will be studying and preparing for next week and whoever leads it then. 

I enjoyed the prep and even leading the study. I was told afterwards I looked very calm. "Casual even!" To be fair, I felt quite relaxed even though nearly every seat was filled, and there was potential for disagreement, not least because I suggested the book of Hebrews might have been written by a woman, Priscilla. In my research a case was made for her as author but most people have rejected it, although she seems to me to be as likely a candidate as anyone else. 

Lunchtime now and then I'll go back on the self-publishing treadmill.