I'm still not registered with a dentist, on account of the only dentist in town being full, but he will do emergency stuff for me. Today, finally, the nagging little inner voice of Common Sense overcome my Inner Procrastinator and convinced it that the tooth would not just heal up and get better, however much I rested it by not eating on that side of my mouth. Not only that, if I didn't get something done, the tooth would probably fall apart and the filling drop out -- like the other one did -- and then I'd be scrambling to get it done as an emergency and risk having toothache for days if not weeks while they found me an appointment.
So I trotted into town to get G a pasty and a cake for his lunch and popped into the dentist's surgery en route. Now I have an early morning appointment for a week on Wednesday, which means that I can just go into work late that day. I could have had one on the Monday, but I will be travelling back from Ireland then, so I'll just have to hope the tooth lasts that extra few days.
I also had an interesting enounter in the reception area. I was just turning to go after arranging the appointment when I was greeted by an old colleague of G's (now retired) who had just emerged from the treatment room. A small conversation almost entirely in Welsh followed and I coped. I do wish more local people would take his approach. He waited patiently while I fumbled for words and, as he has such a relaxed air about him, I didn't panic, so didn't often have to fumble. I managed to exchange pleasantries and explain my new job and say goodbye and left feeling quite encouraged by my language abilities. The words are there, if I could only find the confidence to use them.
Will now try to write for a bit before going for a walk, perhaps around the lake in the icon.