Scared Dentist & Fed Up Sheep

It’s raining, it’s pouring, it is fab! You really get to the stage living in Saudi when you pray for rain and in particular rain that is dust and sand free.

Well, today is the day. It is pouring in bucket loads, so much so that raining cats and dogs just does not fit the bill and raining men would be debatable under the Trade Descriptions Act.

Nope it is definitely raining in Cumbria, no question about it.

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Himself and one of our really good friends have spent the morning going up Whernside and have just dripped their way back through the door – it must be pretty grotty as they came back here instead of carrying on down to the pub, now that must be one heck of a lot of rain!

So, we have wet, soggy and fed up sheep. As I write and glance out of the window they are looking pretty forlorn and dejected – not there usual cheerful, bouncing, barring selves.

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So, anyway saw my inaugural visit to the local Cumbrian dentist. I am pleased and more than a little relieved to say that I am not one of those people who is terrified of the dentist and so do not have sleepless nights and tranquillisers before each visit. It is just something that has to be done – if on an ad hoc basis!

However, since heading off to Saudi we have been a tad lax with our dentistry needs and visits to have the gnashers checked have been few and far between.

The reasons for this are multiple but I have to say that we did register with ‘The Scottish Dentist’ in the centre of Riyadh – Dr Russell. As the title suggests the good Doc was of Scottish origins and had been working in Riyadh for many, many years.

I hasten to add that he was the second practice that we visited, the first one caused a massive amount of concern when on assessment they announced that I needed seven fillings replaced. The only problem with that statement was that I do not have seven fillings in the first place – let alone seven that need replacing. It really did not install a sense of confidence and led to us running at great pace towards the good Doc Russell.

Doc Russell was one of those people that carried an air of aloofness, was an enigma and a psychological puzzle – but you could never quite put your finger on why. With an ability to talk incessantly about anything and everything and continually asking questions and expecting answers while your mouth was full of instruments, every visit was always an adventure – if a tad frustrating.

Anyway, Doc Russell had, on the ad hoc visits we made, kept our teeth in reasonable order, or so I thought, replaced one filling and castigated the gruesome twosome for a lack of thorough brushing.

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So, it came as a bit of a shock when we called to make another long overdue appointment with Doc Russell to be told that actually he had died very suddenly and so no, we could not make another appointment.

Now, while I am sure that this had been much more of a downturn for Doc Russell, on a note of lesser importance it left us with a bit of a quandary as we were back to square one with our dentistry requirements.

In typical fashion we acted decisively by doing nothing under the guise of looking at our options and more time ticked by. So, when we arrived in Cumbria this time it became clear that actually now that we are putting down roots here the obvious thing to do was register with a dentist in the near vicinity.

Now, as I was called in I was greeted by a young and clearly dynamic, forward looking dentist. He was initially puzzled by the address on my registration form in Lincolnshire and so the full explanation followed – including the fact that Doc Russell had shuffled off very abruptly and without warning to the great flossing zone in the sky armed with a small mirror, various dental tools and a bottle of Scotch.

Silence fell across the surgery room, the dentist recoiled slightly and even the dental nurse looked puzzled, but I thought no more of it.

As the dentist took a deep breath, gestured towards the chair and apparently invited me to take a seat I too became slightly puzzled.

As the seat sunk back the questions started about Doc Russell – it was at this point that I mentioned that he had not died while he was treating me and ‘don’t worry I am quite safe really’.

I jest not when I say that the relief was palpable – the trusty new dentist commented that he was about to dust off his insurance policies.

Anyway, one thorough assessment, 2 x-rays and much scratching of my teeth later with sharp and pointy implements and I was informed that ‘that’ filling needed replacing again and once a new appointment had been made for the treatment, then the trusty new dentist will do his best to stay alive between now and then so as not to give me some sort of complex.

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No comment from the dental nurse though – I suspect she may have a strong sense of self-preservation and may well have a day off next time I wonder in through the door.

Regular readers will not be surprised to learn that ‘Sauce Wars’ is ongoing with very little advance on either side. The small man did ask me to go to ‘that’ aisle in the supermarket which I refused and since then no mention of ‘tomato ketchup’ has been made on either side.

I have to say that the current situation resembles something like Angela Merkal and David Cameron refusing to discuss  ‘Article 50’ – two kids both having a spat!

Anyway, no progress on either side is all that needs to be said.

Right, had a slight mishap in the cooker with an exploding apple and rhubarb crumble, best I go and get the jay cloths out.

Laters!

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http://virginmoneygiving.com/TheCarbys

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