Like a hole in the head

Some teeth, earlier

Last week I went to the dentists for the first time in over 10 years.  Needless to say, I was nervous.

Nerves are not the reason I hadn't been for so long by the way.  I'm not generally an anxious patient, particularly when it comes to the dentist.  I used to go regularly when I was a kid right through my time at Uni, and every time I went I was told how good my teeth were and never received any treatment.

That was the problem.  I haven't gone in so long because each time I did go, before I even had time to get comfy in the chair I was being sent on my way with oral praise ringing in my ears (by oral I don't mean spoken, although it was, I mean it was about... never mind... ).

This meant going to the dentist was nothing to fear, so it wasn't a big deal.  As such, as an adult, I didn't bother going.  I never even registered with a dentist all the time I've lived up north.

At the same time though, lets not pretend that my sheer laziness hasn't played a role in this as well.  There are many very important things in my life that don't get done because I can't be arsed.  If I got bitten by a Black Widow spider in my living room and the serum was in the fridge, I'd still wait until the end of Coronation St to go and get it.  And I don't even like Coronation St.

Clearly, as a child, my Mother took the responsibility.  As an adult, that passed to, unfortunately, me.  Have you met me?

However, I now live with Sally.  Regular readers will know she is the nice lady who makes me coffee in the morning, puts morale boosting notes in my lunch (as in, in the bag, not as a sandwich filling), and even recently taught me how to ride a bike (as detailed here).

You would have thought Jesus' CV would mean he could
get a better job than a dental assistant, but there you go

She also decided that my health was actually important.  Who knew?

And yes, unusually for me, I was a bit scared.  It had been that long, who knows what was wrong with my teeth.  I hadn't been in any pain at all, but still, what would he find?  Perhaps my molars were packed with Ebola.

But still, I did go.  The staff were all very pleasant and the experience was fine.  Until the end when he explained I needed a filling.  After a decade of wilful dental absenteeism, I suppose I got off lightly.  All the same, this was my first one ever.

So this morning I've been back and had it done.  My favourite bit was when he said "I'll be doing some drilling, do you want injections for anaesthetic?"  WHO WOULD SAY NO??

I know some people are afraid of needles but he was going to drill in to my head, and I had the choice of whether to just go ahead and feel it all OR NOT!

Needless to say I said yes, and very bloody quickly too.  As such I felt nothing apart from the vibration of various things in my mouth (and no, I've never said that in any other context before).

It all took under half an hour in total and cost £32.  I only mention that for any American readers.  Apparently, they would be looking at $250+.  Well, anything less would be COMMUNISM wouldn't it?

Filling done, the dentist said that otherwise I had excellent teeth.  Jolly good, I can leave it another 10 years then, right?

My, my, isn't everything sh*t?

Ever wondered what a shaved Muppet would look like?

Isn't life just grand at the moment?

The Scottish population voted no in the referendum, Ebola has taken countless lives, IS have chopped off a charity workers head and UKIP have their first MP.  Oh, and to top it all off I've had a cold.  Who doesn't love the feeling of waking each morning like a fairy has sand-papered the back of your throat and stuffed your sinuses with wax?

Oh no, wait... that feeling is horrible!  This fever must be going to my head.

International news and politics can seem troublesome at the best of times but gosh, doesn't it all just feel particularly crappy right now?  I had very much nailed my colours to the mast in favour of a Yes vote in the Scottish referendum for a start (as detailed in this POST).

Unfortunately, I had also predicted that the No campaign would win.  Why?  Because despite the campaign being utterly negative, it was the easier thing to do.  The mass of people are not arseholes on purpose, they just go for what they see as the most balanced option.

People want to be balanced.  They want to be fair.  They want to exist in the middle ground, and hate anything they consider to be "extremism".  Unfortunately the centre ground is not a nice place, and the agenda set is not of our making as much as we think it is.

The morning after the referendum result I put on breakfast television to see Nigel Farage.  That's enough to ruin anyone's Corn Flakes.  He was saying, and has been joined by quite a chorus of right wingers since, that now we had the debate around Scottish independence, it was now time for the debate around English independence.

Yes Scotland, you had forgotten about UKIP hadn't you?  They hadn't been mentioned for a few weeks in the hope it would slip your memory that THIS is what being in the Union entails, but tough, they do exist!

Urgh...

What's worse, with the help of the media bosses, they are dragging the centre ground in their direction.  Immigration really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things for the financial fortunes of this country and it's population, but people think it does, and that's enough.

The Labour party should of course be arguing against UKIP's lies, but the truth is that it's the minority who think they sit in the centre that decide elections.  It's not the richest voters or the poorest voters that ultimately effect elections (although the richest always come out on top in this system anyway).  It's the swing voters.  In America it was Ohio, in Britain Tony Blair dubbed this voter "Lexus Man".

Unfortunately, Lexus Man is a dick.

Sure, he's had to tighten his belt as economic pressures have taken hold.  But where-as the poorest are having their benefits cut, being robbed through the bedroom tax, and having to rely on food banks, Lexus man is having to reconsider his holiday plans this year.

The poorest know the Tories are bastards, but Lexus Man swallows everything he reads in the paper and thinks immigrants are to blame.  Added to that he is genuinely scared about Islamic "extremism", so this only furthers his distrust of "others".

Unfortunately, in the current system, Labour know they have to rely on his vote.  That's why they talk tough on immigration.

UKIP will take Labour votes, but no-where near as many as people think.  In the Middleton and Heywood by-election the UKIP vote increased by 36%, placing them second and within just 600+ votes of Labour, who won.  However, the Labour vote actually went up by 1%.

The Tories votes went down by 15%, and the Lib Dems 18%.  This is where the UKIP vote came from.  However, Labour are hoping to win over Lib Dem voters in the next general election.  If a large portion of that vote goes to UKIP, they might well struggle.

But, and this is very important, whenever the main political parties try to "out-UKIP" UKIP, it back-fires.  You cannot simply steal their clothing.  By arguing their agenda, you push their agenda, and it is only UKIP who ultimately win.

Not a real worker, or British - an Irish actor.  Oops.

Of course there will be working class voters who will vote UKIP.  But the most significant part of the traditional Labour vote is being torn apart by the Tories austerity measures.  Don't forget, UKIP are basically the party that look at the Tories and think that they are "too soft"!  Just five minutes reading up on their plans for the NHS is enough to give even the most hardy horror movie fan the shivers.

If Labour want to succeed perhaps they could try displaying principles.  The kind of principles that I know the mass bulk of their membership have.  Perhaps if they argue against the bigoted nonsense of UKIP they can drag the agenda back leftwards, towards the centre again.  Perhaps then Lexus Man might realise that UKIP are just a bunch of "fruitcakes, loonies and closet racists".

After all, Lexus Man hates extremism, doesn't he?

"You could actually hear the snap..."

My accident as I remember it

At the time of writing I currently have a good friend waiting in hospital to get pins removed from her ankle which she broke a while ago, which reminds me of the time I broke my leg and had my last stay in hospital.

For my friend it was during a practice session with her Roller Derby team.  If you've not seen roller derby it is a fiercely competitive roller skating team sport, which at no time have I ever jokingly referred to as "Lesbians on casters".

The accident, on all accounts, happened because a team member performing an action sloppily during the practice, causing her to fall awkwardly.  There is a similarity in my tale in that my accident happened whilst playing football, but dissimilar in that it was entirely my fault.

I should point out that this was five-a-side, not a proper team set-up.  No football team would have me.  In fact when I was young and had hair (yes, that was a very, very long time ago), I was referred to as "David Beckham's evil twin", in that I had bleached blond hair in a centre parting, but had zero ability on the ball.  Passing, dribbling, shooting, I was terrible at them all.

I'm such the opposite to David Beckham in fact that my girlfriend can actually sing.  That's how dissimilar we are!

During play, after being let out of goal momentarily (my natural position due to my flair of taking up space) I went in to a tackle.  Standing on the ball I tripped over and my foot was stuck planted in a standing position whilst my entire weight sent my body over.

You could actually hear the snap.  Closely followed by the sucking of air through the teeth of the other players and sounds which were a mixture of sympathy and nausea.

One of my friends said "don't worry, it's probably just a strain."  Looking down my leg was at a right angle starting just above my ankle.  Needless to say, he wasn't a trained medic.

999 was called, and I was told an ambulance was on it's way.  Now, I can't remember exactly how long it took, but it was a while.  Yes, I was in pain, but I was going to live so I wasn't a  priority. 

It didn't help with the wait in that the five-a-side court was in Moss Side.  Every time we heard a siren we thought it was for me, but no, that's just the soundtrack to the area.  In fact the wait was that long that the guys who had booked the court after us, after initially showing sympathy for my cause, decided to just play round me.

Eventually of course an ambulance did come to scoop me off the floor, and gas and air were administered.  This is probably the only time in my life that I recall experiencing a Hollywood film style drug experience.

It killed the pain which was lovely, but whenever I talked my voice in my head sounded like it was intensely deep.  I kept asking the paramedics if my voice sounded weird, and they kept saying no, in a tone that suggested they thought I was weird.

Talking of drug experiences I was given morphine in the hospital.  Now, many people I know think this was great, but all I remember was feeling a bit fuzzy, not having the attention span to read, and not having a shit for a week.  Is this what powered the counter-culture in the 1960's, freedom from defecating??

In hospital, doped up

I stayed in hospital for 6 days whilst I had an operation to put a nail through my tibia, which is the larger of the two bones going from your knee to your ankle.

The support I received was very welcome.  Friends came to visit me bringing DVDs, books and sweets, and my Mum took time off work especially to come up and look after me.

Staying at my flat whilst I remained in hospital she inevitably cleaned every inch of the place.  Visiting one day she explained that she'd sorted through all my unpacked boxes of CDs and DVDs and did note that she'd found one or two "adult" videos, but that's fine because I'm an adult now.

This is the sort of news that makes your spine itch from embarrassment, so I should be thankful that I was doped up at the time.

Once out of hospital my Mum gave me a guided tour of my own home to explain where everything was now.  This included the set of shelves in my room (note - before I went in hospital, I didn't own a set of shelves).  On display were all my books, CDs and DVDs, all neat, tidy and in correct order.

I was somewhat surprised to notice on one DVD spine what looked like the act of fellatio.  I shouldn't have been, of course, because that's exactly what it was.  That's right, my Mum had put my porn collection out with the rest of the videos.

Whilst intensely embarrassing, at least I could appreciate the humour that my anal DVDs were now in alphabetical order.  Humour is the best medicine, I suppose.