…to get out of working on a Sunday!
The toothache kept me awake all through Saturday night and so in the end I tracked down the Dentiste du Garde and booked an appointment. Earliest that I could get was 10:00. Ahh well! When Liz came into the kitchen she took one look at my face and burst out laughing – the left side had swollen up like a balloon.
Anyway, off to the dentist’s I went. All the way to the back of Ixelles. I was there by 09:40 (no traffic on the roads) and I was out at 10:00. He cut open the tooth (no anaesthetic but it made no difference as the tooth is thoroughly dead and I didn’t feel a thing), pulled out the infected root, and that was that. Of course, with the emergency dentists there is no finesse or subtlety – it’s pretty much production-line dentistry but it was better than nothing.
Back home and with no pain at all, relatively speaking, I crashed out for an hour or two while Terry and Liz painted the woodwork in the new bedroom. I woke up at about 14:00 and pottered around to help out for a couple of hours, and then crashed out again. 20:00 that was,
