Toothache burns

Years ago, -long before some real genius casted Robson Green for the tv-series 'Wire In The Blood'- I fell in love with profiler Dr Tony Hill. Ever since, I read every book by Val McDermid. I still prefer the Tony Hill books, but also 'eat' the rest.

To cut a long and exciting story short, 'The Grave Tattoo' is about poet William Wordsworth and Bounty mutineer Fletcher Christian. Once again I think Val McDermid has surpassed herself. The book even made me want to try to read something by Wordsworth and search for a copy of the movie Pandaemonium (about him and fellow-poet Coleridge).




Poetry is not my best friend, but this is quite nice:
Oh! what's the matter?
what's the matter?
What is't that ails young Harry Gill?
That evermore his teeth they chatter,
Chatter, chatter, chatter still.

Of course, this is not taken from the most beautiful poem by William Wordsworth, but these are words I can understand. Harry Gill just needs a new set of dentures! (In our clinic this would cost approx. 400 Euros per jaw.)

Then I found Robert Burns:
My curse upon your venom'd stang,
That shoots my tortur'd gums alang,
An' thro' my lug gies mony a twang,
Wi' gnawing vengeance,
Tearing my nerves wi' bitter pang,
Like racking engines!

When fevers burn, or argues freezes,
Rheumatics gnaw, or colics squeezes,
Our neibor's sympathy can ease us,
Wi' pitying moan;
But thee-thou hell o' a' diseases
- Aye mocks our groan.

Adown my beard the slavers trickle
I throw the wee stools o'er the mickle,
While round the fire the giglets keckle,
To see me loup, While, raving mad, I wish a heckle
Were in their doup! In a' the numerous human dools,
Ill hairsts, daft bargains, cutty stools,

Or worthy frien's rak'd i' the mools,
- Sad sight to see! The tricks o' knaves, or fash o'fools,
Thou bear'st the gree! Where'er that place be priests ca' hell,
Where a' the tones o' misery yell,
An' ranked plagues their numbers tell,
In dreadfu' raw, Thou, Toothache, surely bear'st the bell,

Amang them a'! O thou grim, mischief-making chiel,
That gars the notes o' discord squeel,
Till daft mankind aft dance a reel
In gore, a shoe-thick, Gie a' the faes o' Scotland's weal
A townmond's toothache!

In case of a common toothache, please do not go to Bulgaria for ten days. Just visit a local dentist. If he/she advices root canal treatment and a crown, then come to our clinic! It will save you quite a lot of money!