A visit to the dentist

Ann very ill last night with D and V, cause unknown. We had had a lunch out, but she only had a veggie burger and chips with no bun, and the bar staff had assured her it was gluten free, but that is all we can think of, for she is very gluten-sensitive.  In the midst of it all, Edwin phoned to say he was staying over with his friend in Cambridge, and they were off to Norway the next day for a few days away. He flies straight off to Lucerne with Ann at the end of the week, and will immediately go on to another friend in Nottingham, leaving Ann to maker her own way home. We won't have seen anything of him for nearly a fortnight, and he's away intermittently throughout the summer. It will be very peaceful, but his dog misses him and sleeps on his bed, with a look of mournful sadness as though to say, "What have you done with my master?"

Last week, eating a light meal, I suddenly felt a piece of grit in my mouth. Spitting it out, I saw it was enamel-coated, so had an emergency visit to the dentist today to sort out a cracked tooth. He took two minutes to tell me it had cracked clean across, and I would need a (very expensive) crown, so I have to return for two visits. I hate the dentist, but I must admit it was painless today, apart from the hit to the pocket. On our return, a letter from the hospital makes an appointment for my next cystoscopy checkup. I still haven't heard any results from the scan, so must keep pressing them to find out if possible. It is my body, and they ought to let me know, but even the GP doesn't have a result.