At the dentist’s.

Once I had a toothache for several days, but I couldn’t pluck up courage to go to the dentist. As a matter of fact I went twice, but just as I got on his doorstep and was going to ring the bell the toothache seemed to have gone away, so I went home again. But at last I had to go back, and this time I rang the bell and I was shown into the waiting- room.

There were a number of magazines there, and I had just got in the middle of an exciting story when the maid came in to say Mr. Puller was ready to see me – I’ll have to wait for the next toothache to fish the story.

Well, I went into the surgery (the room where a doctor or dentist gives advice or treatment) and he told me to sit in a chair that he could move up and down, backwards and forwards, and then he had a look at the inside of my mouth. He put a little mirror on a long handle inside my mouth and pocked about for a while, then he looked serious and said, “Yes, I’m afraid we can’t save that one, it will have to come out.”

I asked him to give me an injection. He filled a syringe with a liquid called cocaine. I felt a little prick on the gum and then injected the cocaine. He did this in two or three places and waited for a minute or so.

My mouth felt rather dead. Then he took a pair of forceps, gripped the tooth, gave a twist, then a pull, and the tooth was out. I could see it and hear it but I couldn’t feel it. Then he said, “It’s all over. Spit in there and then wash your mouth out with this disinfectant.”

Being ill.

“You don’t look your usual self this morning,” said my wife at breakfast.

“No, I’m not feeling up to much,” I said. » I don’t know what I’ve got, but I hardly slept a wink all night, and now I’ve got a splitting headache.”

“Poor old thing,” she said “feeling my forehead. “If feels as you’ve got a bit of a temperature.”

At work, I felt ghastly all morning. My head was now throbbing violently and there were moments when if felt as if the whole office was going round. At eleven o’clock I took a couple of aspirins with my coffee, they didn’t seem to do any good. By lunchtime I had to admit that I was running a temperature: I felt hot and shivery at the same time.

I called my secretary in. “Look, Pam,” I said. “I’m not feeling too well do the same when you’ve finished the letters. Perhaps you would ring up Fraser and let him know.”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Garter. You do look poorly. I hope you haven’t caught this nasty flu that’s around”.

Feeling rather sorry for myself, I put on my overcoat and wrapped a scarf found my neck.

When I got home I went straight to bed and my wife gave me a hot water bottle. I certainly felt better lying down.

“I’ll bring you some lunch in a minute,” said my wife.

“No, thank you,” I said. “I couldn’t eat a thing. All I want is a glass of water. Then I think I’ll sleep for a bit.”

“Don’t you think I’d better call the doctor?” she said. “I shouldn’t be surprised if you’ve got this flu, like Mrs. Higgins.”

Mrs. Higgins was our daily help, and she’s been off work for the last few days.

Then I must have dozed off, for I woke up, sweating all over, to hear the doctor coming up the stairs. “Quite an epidemic of it,” I heard him say to my wife. I sat to feeling stiff and uncomfortable; my pajamas were sticking to me.

“Now then,” said the doctor, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Let’s have a good look at you.” He opened his bag and stuck a thermometer in my mouth. While he was waiting he took my pulse. Then he took out the thermometer and looked at it. “Just over a hundred and two,” he mumbled.

He put a stethoscope in his ears and listened to my chest.

“Now the throat. Say ”Ah”. Silence. “Looks a bit sore. Does it hurt when you swallow?” I nodded. “Mm. It’s flu all right. The throat’s nothing serious.” He looked for his pen. “Look here, I’m to keep you in bed for a day or two. Keep taking plenty of aspirin to bring your temperature down, and I’ll give you some pills to help you to sleep at night. You should stay away from work for the rest of the week and take it easy. It’s much better to shake it off in one go if you can. Otherwise, if you go back to work too soon, it might drag on indefinitely.”

He wrote out a prescription and handed it to my wife. As she saw him to the door I heard him say case I’ll drop in again the day after tomorrow to see how he’s getting on. Keep him well covered up.

For two days I was terribly weak. Whenever I had to get out of bed, I felt giddy and was glad to lie down again. Moreover, I couldn’t face eating anything; all I wanted was lots of drink and plenty of sleep. I didn’t even feel like reading. Then, suddenly, I felt much better. My temperature was almost too normal, my appetite came back, and I felt I wanted to do something useful. Now my wife had a struggle to keep me in bed. “You’re not to overdo it,” she said. “Flu takes it out of you more then you think.” So I spent the time propped up with lots of pillows, catching up with my reading. In fact, it was now all rather pleasant.