I must have very tough gnashers. After not visiting my nice, friendly (cough, cough) dental practice for more years than I care to say, the only work needing doing is to the tooth that has forced me along there at long last. And that's a filling. More than I deserve and that's a fact!
It shows how long since I went. It was all different. For a start, everything is on computer instead of in cardboard folders. The x rays are instant and you don't get this menacing thing slowly circulating around your head while you try your best to keep your head still aided by a cold, metal clamp, reminiscent of portrait photography technique in the Victorian era. There's an automatic door that glides soundlessly open as you approach. They've converted the garden into a proper car park - not that it helped, I still needed to go up to Tesco and park there, but it shows willing, doesn't it! Best of all, it doesn't smell of dentist, not in the least bit. Amazing.
It doesn't mean I liked it any better, but the changes are good! And yes, I did appease my conscience with some Tesco shopping before I came home. And I can have my night out without worrying about where not to bite. Yay!