Today I have mostly been feeling sorry for myself! On my list of things to do before I go to Antarctica was dealing with a tooth that has been intermittently giving me problems for the past couple of years. I've had a variety of treatments for it already, but all to no avail. So, at my last visit to the dentist I was told that unless I wanted to carry on having trouble with it, I had two options - have some of the root removed, or have the tooth extracted. Given that I'd put up with it for quite a while now, I was in two minds, especially as there is a whole list of unpleasant things I would rather do than voluntarily sit in the dentists chair. But, then the thought occurred to me - what happens if it flares up when I'm 2 days over rough sea away from a South American dentist. My overactive imagination sees me being held down by 2 people whilst a third comes at me with a pair of pliers to remove the offending item from my mouth which would be held open by a fourth!! So that was it, decision made - I would have the treatment. I'm not going to go into detail about what the dentist did, but lets just say I feel like I've been through a couple of rounds with Mike Tyson, and have 2 stitches in my gum as evidence. Let's just hope the procedure has worked!
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