Tuesday, October 30, 2007


I'm not dentist-a-phobic but prior to moving back to the UK I hadn't been to the dentist since before Callum was born. I'm not afraid of them, not particularly bothered about drills and injections but hated the fact that after every appointment I was told that I needed a load more work done and needed to come back for several more appointments. By the time that work was finished it would be nearly time for the next check up and it would start all over again.

Well after a little bit of prodding I decided that it was time to find a new dentist, couldn't find an NHS one for me and Mark but found a private one that will treat the kids on the NHS. I went in, sat on the chair, let him poke and prod at my teeth a bit and then waited for the news about how dreadful my teeth are, and...it never came. He said they were in good condition, keep on eye on a couple of things and see you in 6 months, yipeee, I can't remember that last time that a dentist has said that to me.

That was 6 months ago, since then Mark has been and so have both the kids. He's courteous to everyone, treats the kids very gently but not patronisingly, informative but not pushy and best of all I just went for my checkup today and again got the "everything is fine, come back in 6 months" speech. I think I actually found a good one this time.

1 comment:

Mima said...

It sounds as if you are having some success with the potty training which is great news, found your blog and have been reading back, hope the troubles that you mention from the last year are more settled now.