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NOTE from Barb: this episode is not, strictly speaking, an example of medical tourism—mostly because it was during Covid lockdown and we couldn’t leave the house, let alone the country. [Image credit: Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975)]

The further adventures of the WMIT (World’s Most International Tooth)

As I mentioned, my tooth had started hurting down in England, and back in Scotland, my dentist said I would need two ‘lucky’ root canals. These were done in India (see Part 1 here), and we made it back to Scotland just in time for the first pandemic lockdown.

What is the opposite of a medical tourist?

Some weeks into the pandemic, one of my temporary crowns fell off. But we were in the first month of lockdown, so I ignored it.

Later the tooth cracked. But we were in the second month of lockdown. Still ignoring it.

Then it started to hurt. Lots. This was the third month of lockdown, which was clearly going to last for the rest of my natural life. I called 111, the emergency number for the National Health Service here in Scotland. They asked about my (nonexistent) virus symptoms in such detail we never actually got to talk about the tooth. So I called back.

After two days on the phone with the NHS, and about a dozen conversations where they asked about and I denied every possible Covid-19 symptom, I finally heard back from an actual dental professional.

ME: Ow.

DENTIST: During lockdown, we can only offer you two options.

ME: Ow.

DENTIST:  Option One is we give you the filling stuff, and talk you through filling your own tooth.

ME: Ow?

DENTIST: Option Two is we pull the tooth.

ME: OW????

DENTIST: So… about that antibiotic? Since you’re allergic to penicillin, we have this other stuff which will make you erupt from every orifice if you drink alcohol. Of course, it may do that anyway because it’s pretty strong.

ME: My toof ith fine athally. Filths bedder by the moment.

Cat [from safe social distance because the NHS won’t allow her to actually share air with patient: (translation) “Good care would have avoided this painful operation.”
Dog: “A miracle! My toothache is gone! Buh-bye…”
[image credit: Wikipedia]

But after thinking about what I’ve already gone through to keep this tooth, I ended up opting for the take-no-tummy-prisoners Rx.

You’ll have to excuse me because I’m going to the bathroom for the millionth time today.

 

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