Flip through the latest issue of Gulf Weekly.
I've got to tell you there's one thing I am scared of... and that's dentists!
Since I was but a schoolboy and was taken to see the school dentist (and given three filings without anaesthetic) the memory of the pain I experienced has pretty much seen me keeping a wide berth of dental surgeries.
That was until just a few years ago. My wife Wendy convinced me it was time to see a dentist and do something about my dodgy fillings and missing back teeth. On her instructions I agreed to getting a couple of implants put in to fill the gaps.
After sitting in the chair and being hammered into for a hellish four hours, I was given an ice pack and a prescription for painkillers and sent home.
This was at around 9pm and I trudged to the nearest chemist, picked up the tablets and went home.
I popped the pills, lay down on the sofa feeling very sorry for myself and proceeded to stare at the telly. After a short while I realised I'd been scratching a lot and looked at my arms... and red blotches had started to spread everywhere I could see.
I staggered to the bathroom and ripped off my shirt to see how far it'd spread; I felt not so much superman as lizard, with bright red spots pretty much everywhere. I was also starting to swell up.
I then took a good look at the bottle of tablets I'd been prescribed and there it was in big letters... Penicillin, which I am allergic to!
I had told the dentist previously about my allergy but there was obviously some kind of mix up. I went back to the lounge and turned off the film I was watching which was Dumb and Dumber, just like me, I thought, for not reading the leaflet about the medicine before I popped the pills in my mouth.
I got straight in my car and drove to the nearest hospital; where the nurse took one look at me and said 'Emergency Ward that way'. A doctor came and, when I explained what had happened, he quickly set about giving me an anti-histamine jab which really hurt.
Luckily my very own Florence Nightingale was due back from a flight that night, she read my text when she landed and came straight away to pick me up from the hospital. She also gave me a blanket. 'What's this for?' I asked, as it was quite warm outside. She said it was to put over my head so I didn't scare anyone.
It was funny but I so did not feel like laughing. I felt like the Elephant Man!
It took a few days for me to return to normal (OK, normal-ish) and since this experience I have once again pretty much steered clear of dentists. I never did return for the last implant I was supposed to get either.
However all good things come to an end and some time back I had a piece of filling fall out of one of my teeth. After some gentle persuasion from Wendy (also known to us married men as 'nagging') we went as a family down to Awali Hospital to see the dentist.
Our daughter Hannah is four and we thought it was probably a good idea for the dentist to look over her teeth and for her to get used to dentists as well.
Wendy sat in the chair first, and was advised she needed one very small filling and a polish to her otherwise sparkling white teeth. Hannah was next and she was warned to try and stop sucking her thumb because in later life she might need braces.
Next up was me!
Hutch looked in my mouth and said something; I could only hear the echo, which reverberated from the huge cavity in the back of my mouth.
Interestingly, my new dentist Hutch is a lot taller when you are sat in his chair and also much more daunting when he has one of those pointy things scratching away in your mouth. Well, I had X-rays and a thorough examination.
Poor Hutch, he didn't quite know where to begin, such was the state of my teeth. I had to come back later for another appointment. I, of course, was a little scared but he was so good with me that I even got two stickers for being a good patient.
But one thing about dentists that amuses me is why they have conversations with you when you can't answer back because of course your mouth is full of dental instruments and fingers! You just grunt 'ugh' or 'ah' which for me is almost painful - you know how much I love to talk. So Hutch, you definitely had one over me this time.
But the story isn't finished. He found a rather nasty infection above one of my front teeth and I was sent to see dental specialist surgeon, Dr Talal Al Alawi. I entered the clinic, which is very hi-tech and imposing, and was immediately shown on my X-Ray that it was going to be a big job.
I was in the chair for around one-and-a-half hours and was given loads of anaesthetic (but it was still quite an ordeal). I was to receive an implant but unfortunately there was so much infection that had to be taken out, that the hole which was left was so large no implant would be wide enough. I received a kind of bone graft technique which will take two months to fully heal up, after which an implant will be put in.
In the meantime I've been given a plate with one front tooth on it, just like I remember my grandma having. And, apart from it being very hard to eat a good steak, the worst thing is trying to talk - and that's my job!
Anything with an 'S' in it is difficult, so, when I do my radio show there will be no 'Siouxsie and the Banshees'. Wendy however tried getting me to say 'She sells sea shells on the sea shore' for a bit of a laugh!
I wanted to show you a photo of the tooth that was taken out (along with the cyst that Dr Talal said was feeding off it)... but Wendy forbade it saying it was disgusting and worse than X- rated. She has also tried to forbid me from showing anyone the stitches in my mouth.
All in all it's been a totally Yeuky experience, but still, a big thanks goes out to Dr Hutch and Dr Talal who have, for about the first time in my life, given me faith in the dental profession.
Keep safe and don't forget to brush your teeth, floss, get a good mouthwash and clean your tongue... and then, flash your pearly whites at the world!
Or, you just might end up like me; lisping your 'S's and overcooking your vegetables for dinner.
All my love
Krazy Kevin
