Bob showed up to his afternoon appointment 30 minutes early for once. Great guy. I did my usual small-talk and proceeded to escort him to the chair. As he fumbled into the operatory and took off his backpack, something dropped and I heard a crack as it hit the floor. Now I’m no expert in illicit substances, but I did watch Breaking Bad…twice. Either that was an awfully small and eccentric looking fishbowl, or a crack pipe that just broke into two pieces. The moment was silent. Bob’s eyes rose and met mine. Without missing a beat, Bob composed a sly smile, returned the broken pieces to his backpack, and with a dismissing chuckle said, “Bad habits die hard.” I hope that denture is working well, Bob.
New Director of Tattletales
Like it or not, COVID is still a hot issue we have to deal with. As schools open their doors >read ZoomDDS< for the fall semester, all kinds of precautions are being taken to ensure students are surely getting the “most” (L-O-L) out of their education. Like everything in life, some approaches are better than others. As long as Ms. ‘Rona is around, we’ll keep our ears to the ground and let you know which dental schools are crushing it as well as those that continue crushing their students.
Despite our age, prior education, and the fact that we are paying on average $300k (but often more) to now stare at a screen and listen to somone explain the intricacies of the coveted lost wax technqiue, programs feel we still need to be forced into engagement. We don’t want to name any names. (Lies.) But rumor has it *cough, a dental school in NYC with the largest class size, cough* has taken this to heart and created a new faculty position we like to call the ‘Director of Tattletales.’ Their sole responsibility is to watch students during their ZoomU rotations and make sure they’re, you guessed it, staring at the screen. Sounds like a lame excuse to try and justify price-guaging students for a subpar educational experience, but what do we know? Helicopter parents ain’t got nothing on this.
