Dentists are a bit like politicians. Nobody likes them in general, but your own one is great.
I’ll be honest, I’m not good at the regular check-ups.
Rationally, I know that if I get my teeth checked, cleaned and poked about every six months or so, it will probably delay or prevent me having to get something painful done.
I tell myself this every time I leave the dentist’s surgery. But when the text reminder comes, I go into hibernation and self-justification mode to avoid going back. With Covid, this is much easier.
I mean, you want to reserve spots for people who really need it.
My dentist has enough to be doing without polishing my gnashers. And all that PPE wasted on me for an old check around the gums… I’ll leave it, thanks, in the spirit of self-sacrifice.
In truth, I’m just a big old baby about it. I’ve always been a bit embarrassed by this outlook, because when I do have to get anything done, like a filling – and I’m hyperventilating typing that – it’s actually fairly quick and reasonably painless.
Then I buy myself a sugary treat afterwards for having been so grown up about it.
So I’m both shocked and relieved by the number of people who must be even worse than me, and prepared to go to any lengths to soften the pain of… oh, tooth whitening.
And if you’re going to have to endure such an awful experience, there could be worse places than propped up in the dentist’s chair looking out over the blue sky and warm seas of Tenerife.
The fact it will cost you several hundreds (soon to be thousands) of euro more than seeing the perfectly good dentist within your 5km zone seems to have been no deterrent.
Those poor souls – what has happened to their oral hygiene that they needed to avail of the services of Ryanair? And who knew the Canary Islands was the dental capital of the world?
It makes my latte and donut treat look positively abstemious!
It’s hard to keep up with all the vaccine announcements from different countries, and I’m happy to let the boffins tell me which one to get when it comes to my turn.
I’d prefer one jab to two, and I’d also favour the GP surgery to a football stadium, but I’ll do what I’m told if it restarts normal life. 75pc of us are more than happy to do the same, according to HSE research. And we’ll all be happier when the elderly and otherwise vulnerable get theirs.
But a reluctance remains when it comes to the Russian ‘Sputnik’ and Chinese ‘Sinovac’ versions. Whether this is a misplaced xenophobia, vaccine snobbery or a leery-eyed distrust of these countries in general, a survey from One Big Switch found that just 57pc of us would be happy enough to take their jab if it was offered.
The hilarious Foil, Arms and Hog have been having fun exploiting the fears on YouTube, if you want to get over yourself.
Ignore it. Don’t even try.
Covid has caused more denial, abstemiousness and hardship than any religious obligation could. Even if you’re not of a holy mind, but use the six weeks ahead to live better, honestly, you’re off the hook.
Instead, more of what makes you happy, or at least gets you through the day, is in order.
This year, I’m giving up giving up.