Extracting those expensive teeth!
If any of you are squeamish, then apologies in advance....perhaps you'd better not read this post.
For the rest of you who may be thinking...well how bad can this be. It's pretty bad, but absolutely, cross-my-heart true. The whole yucky subject was brought up again yesterday by my barrister in an off-the-cuff comment during a court case. Here's a bit of background.
The ex had a dental problem. One that he went to great lengths to conceal for many years until our family dentist was a little indiscreet (she assumed that as his wife I knew my husband only had three or four of his own teeth left and the rest were the result of some seriously amazing engineering!) During my regular check-up and gossip, she advised me that there was not much more that she could do for my husband and he would have to wear dentures. He was only 37 at the time. Anyway, enough of the background. He flatly refused to have dentures and opted for a whole mouthful of extremely expensive titanium implants that we had to re-mortgage our house to pay for.
Fast forward a few years by which time I had discovered that this man had a serious personality disorder with psychopathic tendencies and yep, he used to shout an awful lot (among other things). Once, he was ranting about something or other, eyes glassy, body tense and menacing when he actually bellowed a tooth right out of his mouth. It flew right across the room and landed at my feet. Ughh. It was a great distraction though! That, in retrospect was the beginning of the end for the expensive, implanted teeth.
A few weeks later during a meal he made a strange face. God, he's sussed that I've laced his gravy with laxative I thought....but no...He'd swallowed a bloody tooth! Well, it turns out that he would have been glad about the laxative (if he had known) because he was determined that such an expense should not go down the pan as it were...sorry. I'll skip the details, but within 24 hours that expensive tooth was back in his mouth! Oh yes, and that was the first of three similar incidences that I know of. Funnily enough, at around that time I kept finding my kitchen colander in the bathroom and blamed the kids....UUUUUGGGGGHHHHH
Oh,I should point out that by this stage of our relationship there hadn't been any physical contact between us for years (thank god, could anyone stomach the idea of kissing the bugger?) and the colander went straight in the bin.
So anyway, I finally made my escape from this psycho and I'm sitting in court yesterday with my lawyer trying to sort out the lies that masqueraded as his financial affidavit. My lawyer has subpoenaed some bank documents and suddenly exclaims "Dear god, it looks like he's spent over twenty grand last month on dental work...what's wrong with his teeth?" So I gave her a potted history.
Meanwhile, our barrister is in another room trying to negotiate some sort of fair deal for me. He knows nothing of the new documents that have just surfaced. This is his fourth attempt in as many hours at coming to an agreement with The Psychopath (but then the barrister is also still unaware of the ex's mental state) Our barrister returns to us running his hands desperately through his hair with an exasperated look on his face. My solicitor and I look up at him expectantly.
"That man is completely mad" he says "Anyone would think we were trying to extract his bloody teeth"
That's when I knew that things were going pear-shaped!
PS. If anyone is wondering about the laxatives in the gravy, have a look at my Confessions of a Fruitloop. I'm not that bad honestly.