My mother always said I didn't look after my teeth well enough and that I would have trouble in my later years.
A series of dentist encounters during my youth put me off the profession for life.
As a result I only ever went when pain was an issue.
This meant, as time went on, lots of fillings, numerous root canals and finally broken teeth and extractions.
It came to a point last year when my dentist said, after the last of my bottom molars was extracted, "you will need a denture or implants to protect what teeth you have left".
He suggested implants; two of them.
Not the cheapest option by far but we did a deal based on my getting them both done at the same time.
So for the last five months we have been going through what is a pretty long and drawn out process.
This is not always the most comfortable experience especially getting the holes drilled into the jaw bone.
But we survived that bit thanks to my dentist's skill, lots of novacaine and 20mg of diazepam.
One of the worst things was being on soft food for almost half a year. I missed my steak, apples, raw carrots, fresh crusty bread and nuts. However the co driver thought up all sorts of new recipes to get us through. Some will even stay on our list.
So last Thursday the crowns were attached to the 'pegs' during another marathon session.
Then it was all over.
We celebrated that evening with a big thick filet mignon and a better than usual bottle of red wine.
The moral of the story?
Always listen to your mother!