Ok, we all know how hard it can be to find an NHS dentist in this country these days but a recent experience has led me to the conclusion that finding a dentist has turned into a battle that tests a persons endurance to the utmost limits.

My partner woke up on Friday morning with a raging toothache. By Saturday, his face had swollen to alarming proportions and he was in a great deal of pain so I phoned the dental helpline number. The word ‘helpline’ should have a message beside it in brackets saying; (only helpful if you never need help). I phoned the number and a recorded message gave me a list of other numbers within my area to try so I tried one of the numbers and recieved a recorded message telling me that the clinic was now shut and that in an emergency I should call this number, blah, blah which I did, only to listen to yet another recorded message saying that the emergency number had changed and here was the correct number to call, so inbetween screaming at the phone, I dialled the new number and yes you’ve guessed it, another recorded message greeted me, only this time, it was the exact same one as I had listened to in the very beginning!

After retrieving the phone from the bin, I phoned one of the other numbers in the first recorded message and listened as yet another recorded message told me the opening times of another clinic. Of course the clinic had shut by this point so my partner had to wait until the morning to call.  I was at work when he text me to say he had an appointment with a clinic at 10am. Thank the Lord, I thought but i guess I thanked him too soon.

My partner attended the clinic and paid 16 quid for a brief examination where he was told he had an abcess, (no, really?)and he was given a prescription for antibiotics and told he needed to find a dentist to have a tooth out.

 ’But can’t you take it out?’ he enquired.

No, he was told. You have to find a dentist.

‘Well, can you give me some antibiotics here because I dont know what chemists are open on a Sunday’

Sorry, we dont keep medication here.

So, he had to drive around through 3 towns looking for a chemist that was open then had to pay another 6quid for pills.

The next day, his face still looked like a hamsters and the day after that, one eye was almost shut and he couldn’t bear the pain. I called the clinic again and asked if they could drain the abcess as he was in so much pain and crying and I’ve hardly ever seen him cry. No, I was told. He has to finish the course before seeing a dentist, oh and the antibiotics won’t kick in for 48 hours. Well, it has been almost 48 hours, I said. Not quite I was told, still another couple hours to go.

Today, he looked like The Elephant Man who had gone a few rounds with Ricky Hatton. I phoned the helpline number, more recorded messages, so we went to the hospital where he was given yet more pills to take.

I’m hoping by tomorrow, they will have kicked in otherwise, I have a feeling a pair of pliars may be making an introduction along with a bottle of whiskey. We have yet to find a bloody dentist and now I have toothache too!