To begin with I hate dentists, or rather more to the point, they frighten me…which goes all the way back to childhood, a fierce butcher of a dentist…and gas for extractions.
Hence I am more frightened of the dentist than I am of the devil.
Hence I have rotten teeth. Although a few years ago in South Africa I met a glorious and kind man who capped and bridged and veneered my front teeth with very limited pain. But I am not going back to the dark continent soon and my bottom teeth look as if they might give up the ghost without some attention. So here I am in Budapest in the rain, having left the heat, sun and dust of London.
Budapest because friends and colleagues have paved the way, all had great treatments and all at a fraction of the cost in the UK. I had my original consultaion and x-rays just off Portland Place and here I am at the hands of VitalEurope in the Pest (wouldn’t you know) side of the city.
Let’s face it the day did not start well. Apart from the aforementioned sogginess, I arrived at the clinic…early (as is my wont) for my 9 a.m. appointment…only to be told that my time had been changed to 10.30…and while they claimed to have telephoned me, no messages filtered through email, texts, voicemail! Not happy. Tired, nervous and not wishing to hang around for 90 minutes waiting for torture to begin. To quieten me they took me off to the hygienist and then for a CATscan. My treatment with Dr Zsuzsanna began just after 10 a.m…..and finished at 2.24p.m.
Nine drillings, one filling, endless impressions, some photographs, lots of jabs, numbings, one fat lip and frozen jaw later I realised the longest and hopefully worst of it was over…or will it be