Geologists occupy themselves endlessly with the nuances of pressure and time. That's all this planet really is, a giant rock in space, formed from a confluence of pressure and time. Every so often, she lets us know how imperfect that confluence is, by a rather spectacular planetary version of breaking wind. When that volcano erupts, regurgitating mountains of lava, who then arrives to aspirate the excess before it drowns the valley below? Who clears the overflowing rubble and fragments that have been churning in the fire of earth's belly and then flung into the stratosphere to greet the on-coming air traffic with a blanketing ash cloud? Alas, no one.
Thankfully, within the landscape of the dental surgery, the volcano of saliva, spent amalgam and burnt enamel has nowhere to go because a heroine stands up. The microbial mist, disease and droplets of blood disappear because the heroine holds aloft her Excalibur, the aspirator. Together, they serve to protect the patient from drowning in an ocean of infective particulates and distilled water. I daresay no one is born with the ambition of providing a patient with the dental equivalent of a bed bath. Here we have an utterly selfless pilgrim to the cause of patient comfort. All it takes is one woman and her tube.
Held by her is a cylinder of profound importance. Her weapon of choice, the aspirator infiltrates the theatre of dental war like an elite disposal specialist, maintaining a dry field free of danger so the dentist may advance his mission forward. There can be no victory without it, this magnificent device inhaling every scrap of oral flotsam and jetsam so the patient doesn't have to. And if that wasn't enough, if it wasn't satisfactory that it should martyr its own airway to our cause with the precision typical of a Durr system, it does even more.
The tongue has eight muscles and five nerves operating it. One might wonder what could possibly control it, especially during dental procedures when it suddenly adopts a sentience all of its own, thrashing about the place like the tail of an alligator on speed. However our heroine is not easily defeated, and nor is her favourite instrument. The aspirator somehow manages to simultaneously fold back the cheek and rest itself on the tongue, holding it still and clear like a tiger subduing its prey, all the while absorbing the geysers gushing from the salivary glands underneath.
Such remarkable multi-faceted talent is uncommon in dental instruments, most of which are designed for one function alone but the Durr suction system doesn't know how to compromise or fall short for lack of innovation. It raises the bar higher than most, complementing the deftness of the dental assistant with an unmatched efficiency and function.
Aspirators and suction systems are indispensable. If they did not exist, the repercussions would be calamitous. No water could be used to cool high-speed handpieces, which in turn could not themselves be used, thereby limiting the spectrum of dental procedures available. The patients could not be allowed to have anything undertaken in their mouths, as there would be no means of clearing the mess, protecting their airway and preventing cross-infection. In short, dentistry as we know it would cease to exist. Smiles would turn to grimaces, as cavities would remain unrestored and teeth could not be cleaned.
Fortunately, however, our reality is one of aspiration. Not just a suction system but also the desire to aspire, to be more than we are. Our work is made possible and our successes made true by this quintessential device that is often overlooked and hardly ever celebrated. It enables us to reach our goals, to serve our patients, and to conquer the volcano.