A rose from friends

Woke today determined to see a dentist asap.

'Phoned my own dentist - to be told that I had to see the dentist in the practice where the tooth was extracted. I knew he was on holiday - but to no avail.

'Phoned the other practice - to be told they had only one dentist on duty, because the other is on holiday - so I should 'phone my own dentist.

Started to cry on the 'phone - a sign of how dreadful I've been feeling.

An appointment was arranged for 3.45pm and came not a moment too soon. Saw the lovely Laura, who listened to my story and diagnosed a dry socket, confirmed on examination.

"It's much more painful that a dental abscess," she explained, "because bone is exposed to the air and food, etc.,"

Five minutes later and the socket had been cleaned and a dressing applied. It's still painful, but the terrible, overwhelming pressure has gone. I can speak in sentences again. Apprarently my colour changed from grey to pink in a few seconds!

Margret (next door) took me to Darras Hall for the appointment. I could not have driven then, but I could have driven back.

In the garden, here is the rose that Pam and Pat gave me for my 60th birthday. It's a beauty. Happy memories of Pam who has since died, but I remember her whenever I see the blossoms.

Having a quiet evening and hope to resume normal activities tomorrow......well I'll be going quietly at first, just to be sure.......