mark clayson

I have always wanted to explore the Pacific. For starters, it is a long way away so it always sounds good when you tell your Grandmother that you have travelled so many thousands of miles. It sounds impressive even if the water when you get there is the same sort of stuff that laps the shores of the British Isles.

Secondly, there is something romantic about the word "Pacific". It conjures up thoughts of lazy summer sun, tranquility and, of course, grappling with 50 foot sharks. My nearest body of water is the North Sea - nothing special in that name is there? Or, if I travel a bit further I can be sailing in the sewerage of the English Channel or the Irish Sea. Nope - Pacific sounds better.

What has this to do with braces? Well, nothing. Unless you include the small fact that I have a gaping hole - not in my mouth but between my last appointment and my next. Nothing is being done in the interim - nada, zilch, zero (apart from wearing the bite plate for even longer).

If I was an ortho I would invite my patients in for a game of chess or a treat of tea and muffins during these fallow periods just to help relationships and maintain rapport. Or perhaps devise some sort of remote support network using social media sites or teleconferencing. As things stand I will forget what he looks like and he will be in danger of forgetting me.

So, 9 weeks in the Pacific sounds ideal. Long enough to fill the lonely gap and to brush up on my chess strategy. I have already bought my 10 inch diving knife ready to take on the multitudinous underwater threats although my wife has pointed out that my snorkel will only get me a metre or two under the surface and therefore the only threat likely to disturb me will be idiots on jet skis or passing inflatables.

The fact is I hate water. Scuba diving is not only expensive but also darn dangerous. The nearest I will get to anything remotely resembling adventure will be sitting on the exterior decking of a shore based restaurant waiting for a few spots of rain to fall.

All of this is, of course, a distraction. Bite plate or not, I have to wait so I fantasise instead. Even now I reckon nothing can or will be done at my next meeting. So I am buying a chess set in order to ready myself for the appointment.