Resolved or ongoing?

That could be seen as a deeply philosophical question, but I'm just referring to the Saga of the Tooth - or rather, of the non-tooth. I had to be out early (for me) again - and it's a mark of my decadent lifestyle these days that I regard 9.30am as early. However, by 9.25am I was parked outside our dental surgery (feeling smug because I tend to avoid reversing into a marked bay with a thick wall at the rear, but today managed it perfectly). I phoned them, and a minute later the dental nurse appeared at the side door and let me in.

A child (forgive me) in full PPE including these sinister little goggles that dentists wear to peer at your teeth through, sat me down and had a look at the offending gumboil. She sent me through for an X-ray, which I loathe because my bite is so shallow, had a good look, came back and ...

The upshot is that I was superficially numbed (foul taste) before she stuck something sharp into my gum, made a satisfied noise, mopped vigorously and told me to bite down on a lump of gauze (strangely horrid). And that was it. Go home, keep it clean, eat elsewhere, use salt water mouthwashes, and get better. The swelling is still there? My body should cope. What is it? Well, there was this bit of dead tissue ... 

Enough.

Blipping the view as I emerged from the surgery. It's not every dentist has a view as stunning as ours. And as an extra, another photo from my happy place in Benmore Gardens, where we went just as it was closing. Best to enjoy empty - we saw a squirrel and a heron flying about - before the hordes arrive: The Times had a piece this very day exhorting people to visit the Gardens. Just need to keep going at closing time ...