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It’s Never too late to Care about Dental Hygiene

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					                   It’s Never too late to Care about Dental Hygiene

I hadn’t been to a dentist in 20 years. I wasn’t scared, I just didn’t see the point. As long as my
teeth were still strong enough to chew my food I was happy. I’m sure that there are a lot of
people out there right now that are just like me. To them, teeth are practical things and decay is
pretty inevitable. When they finally go, you get a set of dentures and away you go.

I wasn’t always like that. When I was a kid, my parents took me to a big Dental Clinic every year
and I would always beam at the dentist, my mouth full of pearly white teeth. I brushed diligently
and when I was 11 I got an electric toothbrush. I felt so grown up! As the years went by though,
I stopped going to see Mr Price and my teeth seemed less and less important. I had bigger
things to worry about: school, football, girls! It just didn’t seem to matter any more. Eventually
my gums started to bleed whenever I brushed too hard, and my teeth were still looking pretty
yellow afterwards so I just gave up. My days of waiting nervously in the dental clinic were over
and I was free to eat as many sweets as I wanted.

Amazingly, I didn’t lose a single tooth. I was lucky I suppose, because with the sheer lack of
care I was showing, I should have been little more than gums after a decade. My hand was
forced when I was woken up in the middle of the night by the most awful, searing pain
reverberating throughout my jaw. I would later find out that a molar in the lower left side of my
mouth had become infected and swollen. At that moment, all I knew was that I was in trouble. It
was unlike any other pain. I could feel every pulse of pain tremble down my jaw. It made me feel
weak and dizzy and helpless.

I had a choice, I could either call the Cosmetic Dentist London or suffer in silence. For a few
hours, I suffered. I was ashamed of what I had done, the state I had let myself get in to. I was
worried that some of the staff might recognise me from my childhood and wonder what had
happened to that sweet, smiling little boy. In the end, I swallowed my pride and called the
dentist.

A few hours later, the throbbing had stopped, replaced by a dull ache. It still hurt, but it was
fading steadily. When I had needed help, the clinic had welcomed me back without judgement.
All they cared about was my health. If anything, they were glad that I was making the right
choice and starting to look after myself again.

Looking back on it now, I’m actually glad that it happened. That might seem a little odd, given
how painful it was, but I’m lucky that my tooth got infected: in the end it gave me a chance to
ask for help and change my life for the better.

Author Information: Kevin Brant is a writer with experience in magazine columns, short articles and
editing. He is the author of this article on London Dentist Clinic. For more information Visit Cosmetic
Dentist London.

				
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