Thursday, January 31, 2008

The attack

It is biting cold. One-dog-night types. Winters in the capital are generally chilly and this year there is no let up. [I’m always amused when people say it has been colder this year] You go numb in the feet and cheeks. I see people sipping hot tea and damping their dumpling in the tea just before wolfing it down. Pop corn is an all time fave. None of this for me though. I’m always fighting against odds. This winter it has been a corny tooth.

A few moons back, a gang of germs – stupid little devils – decided to invade my teeth. I have never held any grudges against them but in an unjust world, where the distinction between right or wrong is largely blurred, the germs must have possibly identified their innocent target. A hack with a love for global affairs and coffee is -- any time -- a sitting duck.

Now an important lesson to learn is that no amount of brushing – twice a day – or gargling or mouth fresheners of the expensive variety actually helps. Means no security is completely fool proof when the attack happens. There are unguarded moments – like when you licitly nibble on a Bernachon.

I reckon one of these days when I was flattering my taste buds, the assailants sneaked in. Quietly. And they straightaway carried out their mission: Attack my pre-molars. I felt a sharp, shooting pang go through me. The epicenter was somewhere in the mouth. I popped a painkiller to alleviate the agony but the damage was already done.

My doctor was quick to diagnose some frightening medical-dental jargon and gave me temporary fillings followed by a rather painful but high tech nerve-numbing treatment. They call it RCT. While the fella was busy taking innumerable X-rays and drilling on my mouth cavities, I thought whether RCT actually meant Relief from Constant Trouble.

In reality they clean up your tooth roots, flush the cretins out, cut all replenishments and nerve support to the bacteria and secure the entire space. Sounds like what Bush did in Afghanistan but the dental cavity is no Kandahar and I hate George. So couple of sessions later, after both befriending and enriching my handsome dentist, I can now re-direct my creative energies on the ‘Obama for America’ campaign.

God, quite an invasion, it was.