March 19. Day 78. Sinking my teeth in.

My father was a dentist. In the mid 70s, when we kids were in primary school, we all moved to England for two years in what was a hugely unusual and difficult endeavour at the time. We returned to Australia in time for my older sister to start high school. In those two years, times had changed and all his surgery equipment needed to be updated and replaced. It cost the equivalent of a small house loan to achieve it. I thought of that today when I took Number One Son to the dentist for his final X-Rays before wisdom teeth removal next month. I can only imagine how much kitting out a dentist surgery would be today. 3D crown printers, cameras on probes, real time nerve imagery.  It's crazy shit. I'm still impressed by TVs mounted in the ceiling. The rest of this equipment is something else. To think, back in the day we used to act as dental nurse on each other when dad checked our teeth on weekends. I still clearly remember suctioning up my brother's tongue by accident. Well it was accidental the first time. You could do that sort of thing in the 70s. Not any more. If fear of damaging this specialist equipment didn't kill such notions, the insurance risk would. But it taught me a lot not least of which was that I never ever wanted to be a dentist.