Peter Bromhead: Dental anxiety

Agreeing to have the tooth repaired, I made a series of appointments, blissfully unaware the procedure would cost the equivalent of what I once paid for a Morris Minor car. When facing oral surgery, I can modestly claim to be a tough guy, having been weaned on primitive dental equipment, such as foot-operated drills, at naval school where only sissies pleaded for a shot of cocaine before the drill-bit exposed a raw nerve.

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