Toothache

I do not have to write a blog today because I have toothache. Why do I have toothache? There may be a number of reasons. At root, of course it all goes back to Nye Bevan who started the NHS, who paid dentists more if thy filled more teeth, after all, it can't have been my fault, sweets were rationed. Without all that dental attention, my back tooth would not have been full of all the metal that broke up a few weeks ago.

I do have a dentist appointment for tomorrow, when all the different bits of the poor mangled tooth with be heaved out and lost forever. Knowing this does not stop it hurting. I did get an emergency appointment when the thing fell apart and the hole was cleaned and a temporary dressing was put in. That seems to have done an OK job for the last two weeks but not any more. It feels like that side of my mouth is twice as big as it ought to be. If I don't think about it, I can just about fool myself into believing that it has not reached the throbbing, pulsating stage.

Who am I trying to kid; it has definitely reached that stage. Look on the bright side; at least I don't have to concentrate to avoid chewing on that side, I get reminded how sensitive it is about 65 times per minute.

There is one advantage to the current level of symptoms. When it woke me up at about four this morning it was a generalised ache and hard to pin down. At first, I thought it might be one of the other teeth that was playing up. I went back to sleep thinking, well at least I'm going to the dentist tomorrow, he can check the others. We are way beyond that now, I can localise the problem down to a few millimetres.

Later this week I am reading a couple of pieces at an event in the Worcester Literary Festival; black humour and toothache could be an interesting combination.

Thinking about performance and also seeking some distraction, I happened to watch a couple of UTube clips of Amy Winehouse in Serbia. The general consensus seems to be that she was drunk, certainly it was an awful performance. It would probably be a good thing if all her fans that took movies at the concert sent her extracts, maybe it might wake her up and show her what a mess she has become.

With a bit of luck mine won't be as bad; anyway, the expectations of the audience will be less and the ticket price is certainly a lot less. In the event that my speech is slurred and I can't get the words out properly, you know my excuse.