“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened” Dr.Seuss
Having just completed a month of yoga, which also entailed a month of healthy eating (read: a month off the booze), the GF and I are due some well earned rest. Bonus, we find ourselves on the beach in Goa with a couple of weeks relaxation up our sleeves.
High, high up on our ‘to-do’ list of activities during this r’n r is a long overdue re-tox. I’m dreaming of sparkling wine at sunset, a cold bottle of Sula being the local Indian tipple, followed by a cleansing Goan Kings brewski or two, to help wash down some fresh fish from the tandoori. They’ve actually got a rapidly growing wine industry in India with some great plonk … but back to the plan.
Feet in the sand, sun setting over the sea, after a month off the booze the glass in front of me is full of tantalising bubbles, mere moments from my mouth.
A long overdue “Cheers” is said in earnest, matched with that magical sound of glasses chink-chinking.
I inch the nectar upwards.
“A quick toast”, the GF announces.
“I’m just so proud of you”, she states, glass held high. “Proud that you fully committed to the whole month. Thank-you.”
The glass is getting warm. The sun is touching the ocean. I need to reply. Something short.
Glassware is re-clinked.
Then, intuition takes over.
Hand grabs glass, arm lifts hand, glass touches mouth, liquid begins to flow.
“Aaaarrgghhh!”, I scream.
I’m the first to admit I’m a baby when it comes to pain, but this is something else. A shooting sensation has just run straight through my front tooth, piercing my brain. I drop the glass as both hands reach up and cover my mouth.
The GF gulps whilst peering over the rim of her glass. She’s staring wide eyed my agony. She gulps again. Then gulps once more, finally asking after my well being.
My well being is not good.
Luckily, Goa is renowned for its dentists, and within ten minutes by rickshaw I’m lying flat on my back, in the dental chair, sober as a judge, mouth wide open.
Dentist goes tap, tap, tap.
I go aargh, ow, OUCH!
Seems there is a ‘minor emergency’, his words not mine.
After a revealing X-Ray, a brief consultation, a local anaesthetic, and on my request a second local anaesthetic just for good measure, the dentist pulls my front tooth clean out of my head, and with it a huge cyst is drained, GROSS, and I’m prescribed a week of antibiotics.
‘You will no longer be in pain,” I was reassured. “Just remember, no drinking alcohol with the antibiotics for the week”.
I can only, barely, smile.