Disjointed Reality

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Progressive dentistry?

I cover quite a wide range of subjects here - about some of which, I consider myself to be quite knowledgable. Dentistry however, isn't one of them.
I had a tiny front filling replaced just before Christmas. The one it replaced had survived around fifteen years of apples, Thornton's toffee and unexpected date stones, so I expected its replacement to last for a similar period.
My dentist is young and obviously passionate about advances in materials techniques and technology. In a five minute session of inserting at least half a dozen pieces of equipment into my mouth, flashing ultra-violet light, beeps and whistles, my filling was in place. He then proudly quoted a passage from a supplier's catalogue, which was, essentially a twelve month guarantee on the filling. (Remember, I was hoping for 15 years). With a cheery "Happy Christmas, see you for a check up in 12 months", I left the surgery.
Five days later, the filling fell out.
I returned today to have it replaced. My dentist decided that the cavity wasn't the right shape to hold the filling securely, so decided to drill it out a little larger. "Okay", he said, "I'll just numb the gum". Out of the corner of my eye, I was aware of a syringe in his hand. I asked whether I really needed an injection. He said no, and that in Poland, people tend not to have anaesthetic - a useful snippet of information. The attendant dental nurse looked shocked that I had declined the injection.
Anyway, now I have the same hi-tech filling, though a little larger, and slightly less tooth than I had earlier this morning.
There was no mention of a twelve month guarantee.

As I left the surgery I thought back to the days when teeth were drilled at slow speed with a blunt drill bit, attached to a contraption that looked as though it was made from Meccano. The days when nobody had ever heard of local anaesthetic. The days when fillings were mixed in a small pot and applied with a spatula and wiped smooth with a damp piece of cotton wool. The days when fillings lasted fifteen years or more.
Were those days so bad?

One of those days...

Some days you just feel like a good old moan, and today seems to be one of those days.
A succession of rather trivial things have managed to keep my annoyance levels nice and high for the last couple of hours.
Firstly, there was an update to my favourite iPhone Twitter client, Twitbird Pro, available this morning. (January 6th).
The only obvious change is the inclusion of a Santa hat on the application icon. WHY?
I tweeted a complaint about it and await a reply.
I then called into a Costa Coffee shop for a quick coffee. I'm constantly annoyed by the staff who will insist on putting the till receipt on the saucer, then placing the cup on top of it. It always results in a soggy, wet receipt. WHY DO THEY DO THIS?
I was then given a small jug of milk for my coffee. For some reason, it was only about a third full. When I asked for it to be topped up, I was given a short lecture about the amount of milk appropriate for the size of coffee cup I had ordered. WHY?

It's only mid morning. I wonder what further delights the remainder of the day will hold.

Three bags of crisps, two chocolate bars, one can of Coke and two fingers to the NHS.

I spent quite some time sitting in the waiting and assessment area of a hospital Accident and Emergency department yesterday, for reasons I won't go into here.
Whilst there, I witnessed a steady stream of walking wounded with pained faces. The staff dealt with them efficiently and seemingly without judgement.
One young man arrived with his girlfriend. She explained to the assessment nurse how he hadn't been able to go to the toilet since the previous evening, and that he had severe lower abdominal pain. He sat, looking suitably uncomfortable, saying little.
The nurse suggested that he should be checked out by a doctor and asked them to wait to be called through to the consulting room.
It was about lunch time and the couple were getting hungry. Unable to move, the young man muttered something to his girlfriend and she walked over to the bank of vending machines on the other side of the waiting room. She returned several minutes later and handed him three bags of crisps, two chocolate bars and a can of Coke, which he consumed before his consultation with the doctor.
I don't think I need say any more.

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