Oh dear oh dear oh dear.
Last night I was eating some chunky bread and licking my chops post-meal in a satisfied labrador style when I discovered that a good chunk of enamel is missing from one of my upper left molars. Oh dear. I have no health cover and will probably have to have said tooth removed and replaced with a cap, that is if I don’t want my teeth to infect and rot away. This I expect to cost a good 100 quid that I don’t have. Jacques didn’t help at all, quelle surprise, telling me horrific tales of bad dentists and horrific medical costs.
So this afternoon, on finally finding the emergency dentist, I also found that no English was spoken therein. Problem. My Czech vocabulary does not stretch to ‘Please only do the minimum for survival and explain to me all the options for stopping my teeth rot out, please?’ So I tried to contact the now elusive Misa / Chelsea to get her to translate for me.
two ours later I am sitting in ‘The Globe’ English-language bookshop / restaurant / internet cafe and have just received a reply from her friend Petra. Apparently Misa / Chelsea is in hospital with “mental problems.”
Holy fucking shit.
Are there any well adjusted girls in the world at all?
I’m starting to wonder.
Obviously I’m having a serious guilt trip right now as it is probably partially at least my fault.
Hum.
I may have found an English speaking dentist, via Lara, on the plus side.