The dentist & vertigo — not a love story

I’m signed off work — after visiting the dentist I can now very noticeably no longer walk in a straight line, nor stand in one place, nor sit without rocking, nor assure the integrity of my stomach, and all this since I stepped out onto the street after getting a scale and polish. It was a check-up and it’s part of the deal.

Before my appointment I was feeling alright like, the best I’d felt in days — I was walking relatively straight, standing relatively erect, and sitting quite normally. Now, I have beautiful teeth — perfect, but then they are attached to me — and feel worse, so much worse than before.

To get to work yesterday I took it slow — I regretted the taxi, though. Driver not smooth. I took it steady and easy, and added about 20 minutes to my half hour commute.

I walked in and dumped my bag at my desk but I needed water so I started to shuffle to the kitchen. Laura (team leader) told me to sit down before I fell down, and I sat fanning myself in Clare’s office whilst being waited on hand and foot.

After about 10 minutes, once I was no longer the colour of a beetroot, I made it back to my desk but needed to sit down for a minute once I got there. Luckily, I’ve been supplied a chair.

Laura came over and asked if I should really be in work and I said that I’d only feel like this at home, and she said that at home there’s a bed I can lie on, and I pointed out that here there’s a floor — long transcription short, I went home.

It took me 2 hours to get home, but then I did refuse to get a taxi for the final stretch.

This morning I had every intention of going to work until I got up and tried to get dressed — after just underpants I realised I was making a mistake. Instead I waited until 8:30 and called the doctor, and got told there was a walk in clinic between 9 and 11 so off I headed to their other surgery on Waverley Road.

They need more chairs. Being polite I was up and down, offering the older generation my seat, but that stopped after an old lady told me to sit. I haven’t been told to sit like that since dear Grandma Bishop used to wield her piercing eyes to compel me. We had a nice chat — turned out I arranged her brother-in-law’s funeral; small world.

After 2 hours waiting for my name to get called it got called and I went to see the doctor. It was a different doctor to the last doctor I saw — the last doctor was new, I didn’t recognise him at all — but I know this doctor, she’s the doctor who saw me through that Co-op nonsense. I made note to remember her name this morning when I saw it written on her door but alas the note didn’t take. I did thank her, though, for listening.

On my sick note she has put down Labyrinthitis — she said it could be that and not Ménière’s, which is unfortunate because Ménière’s sounds elegant, although with that said, she said, it could indeed be Ménière’s or something else. The truth of the matter is, I’m a mystery to medical science! My inner ear issue could be something new…

I’ve been prescribed new tablets, Stemetil — a side effect: Breast enlargement in men. At last, an excuse I have!

Beautiful teeth, too.

Tomos James