Yesterday I received an email from my husband to give me the address of the emergency dentist (“Doctor may not be able to speak English, but he can check your mouse”…).  No mention of where he’d been all night, but to be honest, I’d had the best night’s sleep in ages.  No being woken up by him coming to bed at some unearthly hour, flapping about with his blankets (yes, the man has blankets in August), no alarm going off every ten minutes from 6-7a.m., being able to have the a.c. as cold as I wanted, and the children must have slept better too.  They didn’t get up until 8 o’clock compared to the usual 6:30-7!

So after a quick and painful breakfast, followed by a quick and painful toothbrushing, I loaded the children into the car and inputted the address into the satnav.  As we started going more and more rural, I doubted we were going the right way.  But I kept with it, because I knew that sometimes surgeries take it in turns to open on holidays and thought maybe this time it was just somewhere a little more out of the way.  Then we got there, no dentist in sight and I realised…I’d put the wrong bloody kanji character in the satnav..高浜町 instead of 高松町  Stupid mistake ending up in a REALLY scenic route.

Once I’d inputted the correct address, I saw that it was at Takasaki Health Centre, which is right next to the city hall and a place I know unbelievably well.  I was immediately annoyed with Y again for not just saying that’s where it was in the first place, seeing as I could probably find that place with my eyes closed, but how the hell should I know the address?  How hard is it to find places by address in this country ANYWAY!  Actually really hard unless you have a navi.

So we ended up getting there at 10:30, half an hour after opening time thanks to the detour.  There were six other people waiting.  I filled out the form in my very messy Japanese, and the receptionist thankfully helped me with the questionnaire concerning allergies and medical history, etc.

An hour and twenty minutes later, after the children had made friends with everyone in the waiting room, read all of the books, disinfected their hands at least three times and sat on ALL of the chairs, it was my turn.

I managed to get my point across to the dentist as much as necessary.  All he had to do really was look in my mouth anyway.  He told me I had lots of problems, gee thanks doc., don’t I know it, and that I should have seen a dentist between four and seven months gestation as they could have given me all kinds of drugs (good to know at nine months).  As it was, he would have to do it without anything and that I should just bear it.  So my children sat demurely at the end of the chair watching me being drilled raw enough for me to put my labour relaxation techniques into practice again.  I couldn’t tell everything he was saying, but it sounded like he told me there would be no painkillers and that I should just bear it until the dentists were open properly again.  Now removing the pain was my main aim, but he said he’d taken all the crap out and put a temporary filling on, so I figured at least it wouldn’t get any worse while I was waiting for the other dentists to come back from their meetings with the dead, so sore and a bit fed up, I paid my dues and then we went off to the childrens library to make up for the long and boring wait where the children had actually been relatively good.

As it was starting to feel better, I mailed Y to ask him if he could call the dentist in his lunch break just to ask what they had done, in case I wasn’t supposed to take any paracetamol later, etc.  Ugh, I hated having to do that, but I thought it wouldn’t take him long, and I figured it was relatively important.  Turns out that after drilling, the dentist had put some pain relief stuff directly into my tooth before covering it with the cement.  Bugger..guess that means no paracetamol for me then.

Fortunately, it hasn’t got painful enough for me to want to medicate myself further, but it still sensitive enough not to be using it to eat and to still have to be drinking through a straw and wincing when I rinse out my mouth.  I’m hoping that I can get something at least a little more permanent on it before I give birth, because I am a midnight teeth grinder and I may just have nothing left of it by then…

The children and I ended up skipping a bath for a quick shower last night and all tumbling into my bed with the library books at 8 o’clock for an early night for me and a bit of a late night for them.  At what seemed like 2a.m. and probably WAS 2a.m., the light flicked on and Y was suddenly there carrying H to her own bed and making a big noisy deal out of it.  L remained in bed for some reason and we ended up having a bit of a crap night’s sleep all around again it seemed, then awoken by Y’s alarm that wakes everyone except Y, leading to him jumping out of bed at 8 o’clock because I didn’t bother to keep smacking him awake every five minutes.  I mean seriously..I’m not his bloody mother.

So we are still wordless, which is a bit of a pain seeing as I have a hospital appointment tomorrow and he is taking the morning off to come with me.  I have to write up my birth plan today and am hoping he’s going to translate it.  Fortunately, my wishlist isn’t too long and is very similar to my last one, so it won’t take long.

I don’t know, it just seems as if it’s one thing after another this summer.  I’m not sure whether it just SEEMS worse because I’m pregnant and fed up or if it really is completely rubbish.  I just keep telling myself that this will be over soon, the routine will be semi-normal and I’ll have hopefully another couple of weeks at least until baby comes and shakes us all up again!


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