Further Adventures In Italian

The past few days I’ve found out a lot about ‘dolore’. That’s not the Italian version of Dolores, unfortunately - it’s the Italian word for pain.

Since the start of the week, I’ve been suffering from frequent bouts of nasty pain in the left side of my jaw. They’d only last a few minutes, but were every hour or two and even combinations of over-the-counter pain-killers were only able to take the edge off the pain, not remove it.

Today was the first chance we had to go to a dentist to see what the problem was. Luckily the pain wasn’t so bad that I couldn’t go snowboarding yesterday (priorities, of course ;-) although I hadn’t had too much sleep the previous night.

Rebecca came with me, which was great as that gave me much less translating, and less trying to understand or speak; plus some of the staff at the dental surgery could speak some English (probably a similar level to my Italian). So between us all, we managed to discuss whereabouts the pain was; whether it was affected by eating or hot or cold drinks; whether it was an ache or a sharp pain (Italians don’t seem to do stabbing pain, but have cutting pain instead).

Then there were x-rays and experiments with super-cooled wads of cotton wool to see if the problem could be replicated or isolated. Luckily, while we were in the waiting room I’d idly discussed with Rebecca the Italian for ‘smile’ (which is ‘sorriso’), so I understood the instruction when the dental nurse was taking the x-ray.

They decided it was most likely an abscess, and so I can now add devitalizzazione - root canal work - to my list of Italian experiences.

It was all very clinical and professional; the dentist even went as far as erecting a small trampoline in my mouth - apparently to stop any debris falling down my throat. It’s a Canadian invention, she told me, and seemed quite surprised that I hadn’t encountered such a device before. She also told me that my teeth were brutta (ugly), and had an extended discussion with some sort of electronic dental device salesman about the amount of amalgam in my mouth - all while pulling the nerve out of my tooth and filling it in again - so maybe she’s come away with a less rosy view of NHS dental work.

My favourite new piece of vocabulary from this experience has to be dente del giudizio. Teeth of Judgement sounds much more apocalyptic and superhero-like than wisdom teeth.