Dental Delay

So there I was last night, calmly munching the only morsel of cheese in our house, a chunk of Parmesan, after digging the debris of the preceding rib-eye steak out of my teeth, when I sensed something rock=hard and probably indigestible in my mouth. Using my tongue, I separated it from all the softer, more digestible feeling contents of my mouth and removed it allow further investigation. Four or five months ago my lower right molar had been the recipient of £380-worth of ceramic crown, Though called a crown, it was really an insert shaped by computer; a kind of high-tech filling. A piece of cheese, admittedly the hardest cheese on the planet, had removed about £190-worth of the crown and a large, very rough hole was now back in my tooth and cutting my tongue. Drat (or rather stronger words to that effect)!

We’d planned to leave for Devon at about 8:30 this morning but, having loaded the car, I took myself off to the dentist at 8:00 AM to see if anything could be done. Sure enough, the ceramic insert, which I thought would be more or less indestructible, had broken. Suitably apologetic, my dentist smoothed off the rough edges and inserted a temporary filling. The last time I had a temporary filling it proved to be very temporary, lasting a little over two hours. I’ll see how this one goes. After Devon, I apparently need  £500-worth of complete gold crown for “a stronger reconstruction”. However, the £380 spent on the ceramic will be deducted. OK, fair enough.

Patched up, we left about 30 minutes later than intended. The journey was pleasingly uneventful apart from the fact that the rain started at about the halfway point. It continued until we arrived in Launceston, just over the border in Cornwall, at 1:30 PM to meet Steve and Rosemary. A friendly newsagent directed us to the pre-arranged meeting venue, the Launceston Arms where my rain-dampened mood lifted as I saw Steve sitting nursing a pint of Cornish Rattler, my favourite cider. Excellent! Carol and I joined.

Helped by the fact that Wortham Manor, our lodgings for the coming week, was actually marked on our OS map, astronavigatrix Carol had spotted an inconsistency in the directions. However, the 6.5% ABV of Cornish Rattler clarified the issue nicely, a right turn typo was swapped for a left turn and, in the continuing rain, we were soon bumping our way towards home down a very muddy farm track which was beginning to resemble a river bed.

What a terrific old place it is. The kitchen is surprisingly cosy, being warmed by under-floor heating, and is well equipped with a range of pots and pans suitable for feeding a potential army of 15 inhabitants. We had fun learning our way around its many corridors and rooms and nabbed ourselves a double room. 

Tessa and Robin turned up at about 5:00 PM. Now we were six and, following further doses of social assistance fluid, we settled down to my pre-prepared spaghetti Bolognese.

My temporary filling fell out. Well, it lasted a few more hours than the last one. 🙁

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