Facing demons

Before I start this, I must say that my dentist is fabulous, and skilled, and charming.

When I was very young my mum took me to the dentist in Uttoxeter. I can’t remember his name (but I’ve thought of googling to fill in the gap). He was a traditional, severe butcher of a dentist and I was traumatised. It took a long time before the family found a lovely dentist in Ashbourne. Slowly, I’ve learned to accept that dentist visits are necessary. I’ve been able to go regularly, and even to the hygienist.

I was due my six monthly check up when we locked down last March. Shortly after that, I developed a cavern in an old filling that rivalled the Grand Canyon. I was lucky and left well alone, but it remained a source of worry.....

I cancelled a trip to the Dentist in January. My excuse ? I had to cross the border into Derbyshire, and their police were fining even visitors who drove five miles to walk round a reservoir. 

I nearly cancelled this morning.
No antibodies yet.
Heavy snow.
Just fear.

But I didn’t.
I dug the car out of the snow and braved it.
I went.
My dentist was super, and reassuring. 
Three x-rays, a filling, and a largish sum later, I was on my way home.

Actually, I enjoyed getting out into the beautiful sunshine, and the lovely countryside.

I stopped for a photo of Sudbury Hall on the way home. 

I’m feeling irrationally pleased with myself. 

And I’m going to Google the villain from all those years ago.