Open wide… no chance of infection here

Dental checkup

No chance any infection will get you while you’re here

Terrified of the dentist? You shouldn’t be. These days it doesn’t hurt – and when your mouth feels healthy, so do you.

Unless you’re worried about infection of course. That Nottingham dentist did nothing for anyone’s confidence.

Strictly come clean

But your own dentist has strict hygiene rules to follow – and you can bet he does. With around 20 billion oral microbes living in your mouth – more than the number of people living on earth – no way he’s taking chances.

If you think about it, a dentist’s surgery is like a hospital operating room, so some basic rules apply:

  • All surfaces are disinfected between patients.
  • Hands are washed and new gloves pulled on between patients.
  • All instruments are heat-sterilised between patients.

UV in the OR

Plus, after the Nottingham case, you might notice your dentist has a new toy. A schnazzy new ultra violet light generator.

Because in a hospital you personally get prepped before any operation – cleaned, disinfected, sterilised – made safe.

But dental patients walk in straight off the street. And every single one of us wears an aura of at least 3 million viruses and bacteria all the time – every one of them looking for a way into our bodies to start their mischief.

OK, so you’re at the dentist.

Then what happens? Your dental operation starts bang, straight away.

But you’re still in your street clothes, with slush on your shoes, no opportunity to wash your hands – you touch the dentist’s chair, the armrest and maybe something else – what sort of things are you bringing in for the next patient to run the risk of?

Well, none.

NONE.

Because you’ll notice that when the patient before you comes out, so do the dentist and the nurse –they don’t want to be exposed and things are about to happen in there.

Death ray for germs

They close the door. The dentist presses a remote control – not for catch-up TV, but for the ultra violet generator.

ZAP!

Inside the surgery the machine goes into action, blitzing every germ dead  – in the air, on surfaces – destroying their DNA by irradiation. Pumping out high intensity ultra violet light in the shortwave C spectrum, pulsed in concentrated flashes to minimise human exposure.

5 minutes and it’s safe. The room is sterile. No germs for you to catch except those you brought with you. And you’ve survived the day so far, ain’t nothing going to happen now.

You go into the surgery with the dentist and nurse. No germs, no nothing, the whole room is 99.999% free of them – what they call Sterility Assurance Level 5 (ever so posh).

Still worried about the dentist?

Don’t be.

If you’ve ever had raging toothache at 4.00 in the morning, you’ll know he’s on your side.

Originally posted on 7 August 2018 @ 8:37 am

Luvvy-Duvvy Dentist Saves Lives

Indian beauty
Pulsed ultra violet – protection against pathogens in seconds

Blame British Airways. It was their sirloin steak that collapsed the tooth filling at 36,000 feet.

The very next chomp brought agony at 2.00 in the morning as the side of the tooth broke off onto the plastic plate.

Four more hours to Mumbai. With the paracetamol from the cabin attendant doing nothing at all. A pounding headache and cheek swollen out like a puffer fish.

Hurry up and wait

Murder at the airport. Ten hours to get a passport stamp, though it could only have been ten minutes. The hotel sent a car, hooray. Except the driver spoke no English – happy-happy cruising like we had all day.

Not nice to die at sunrise – in a strange place, thousands of miles from home.

Except the manager was brilliant. One look and he reached for the phone.

“Emergency please, doctor luvvy-duvvy.”

A mistake, surely. Or an unfamiliar Indian name.

Doctor Lavi Davi, that seemed about right.

The manager spun the driver round and shoved him at the car. “Jaldi karana,” he yelled and slammed the door.

No cruising now. Lewis Hamilton on steroids. Schoolkids, bikes, bullock carts, buses – all the people on the planet crammed into the single road ahead. No need for pain-killers, just triple double tranquillisers.

Another ten minutes that felt like ten hours.

The Empire sleeps on

Quieter side streets. A crumbling wall. A short dusty driveway to a broken down colonial relic of a house from the days of the Raj.

Doctor Luvvy-Duvvy in big letters on a purple signboard.

Out of the car in a cloud of dust. Through a crowded waiting room into air conditioned coolness and a waiting dentist’s chair.

The door shut.  Ah, sanity!

A big 4×4 pulled up outside. A flashy designer job for climbing up on pavements. Mercedes or Porsche or something. This would bend the debit card.

A nurse set up the chair. Flashy was right. The latest recliner model with all the goodies. She set up the splash-bib and Health & Safety glasses. Just like home.

“Doctor will be here now.” She nodded at the car outside the window.

A vision stepped in. Straight from a Bollywood movie. Poised, elegant and drop-dead gorgeous.

She pulled a purple smock over her head. The heart-shaped badge said Luvvy-Duvvy.

“Doctor Geetha Khan,” she said. Melodic, like wind chimes. “Let’s take a look.”

Silky smooth, surely a goddess. “The hotel said it was life or death.”

The gentle dental touch

Her fingers were careful, bred to handling crystal. The touch was confident. She knew her stuff.

Another ten minutes. Ten hours for discomfort. Ten seconds while this magical creature worked her miracle. Pain gone, swelling gone. Relief at being human again.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” It couldn’t be said enough.

She smiled. The whole world sighed.

Sitting up, slightly giddy. “Please tell me, I’m new to your country. Why Luvvy-Duvvy?

The smile broadened – somewhere the light shone brighter and flowers opened their petals.

Ultra violet germ killer

“Over there,” she pointed to a grey box on wheels, the Luvvy-Duvvy badge big across its front panel. “We named our practice after it – it saves lives.”

Luvvy-Duvvy?”

“Come.” She took my hand – instant, irreversible love.

Back into the crowded waiting room, the nurse coming too. The Doc-goddess had a remote in her hand. She pulled the door to, not quite closing it.

“Watch.”

Reflected purple light flickered off the wall panels inside.

Pulsed ultra-violet,” she said. “This is a hot country. People come straight in off the street, bringing all manner of germs. Take your chances outside, operating theatre inside.”

She nodded at the door. “Luvvy-Duvvy for the UV. That thing sterilises my operating room before and after every patient. Five minutes, bang.”

She pushed open the door. A long glass tube was subsiding back into the machine. “No viruses, no bacteria. I work with people’s open mouths every day. No infections on my watch.”

The crowded waiting room was watching.

“Please excuse me, this is a busy day,” she said. Wind chimes again. “Enjoy our country while you can. Just don’t chew on that side for a day or two.”

A miracle place, India. Can’t help loving the place.

Luvvy-duvvy me.

Back Off, Bacteria! is the blog of Hyper Hygiene Ltd, supplier of what we’re convinced is the most effective health protection system in the world. A fully mobile, all-automatic Hypersteriliser machine mists up workplaces with ionised hydrogen peroxide, spreading everywhere and eliminating all bacteria, viruses and fungi.

Hypersteriliser units are supplied to businesses and institutions across the UK, notably the haematology and other critical units at Salford Royal Hospital, Greater Manchester; Doncaster & Bassetlaw Hospital; South Warwickshire Hospital; Coventry & Warwickshire Hospital; and Queen Victoria Hospital, East Grinstead.

The Halo Hypersteriliser system achieves 6-log Sterility Assurance Level – 99.9999% of germs destroyed. It is the only EPA-registered dry mist fogging system – EPA No 84526-6. It is also EU Biocide Article 95 Compliant.

Originally posted on 28 July 2018 @ 5:55 am

Originally posted on 28 July 2018 @ 5:55 am

How dentists stop germs straight in off the street

Mouth with germs
Don’t worry, you’re safe from germs.
Every new patient gets a sterile room.

Oh, oh – 2.30.

Time to see the dentist.

A quick in-out, before that cavity drives you crazy. Fifteen minutes tops – problem sorted.

Let’s hope it’s a quickie

You breeze in, five minutes before the time. Nervous, can’t handle waiting, other people staring at you. All rugged up ‘cos it’s winter outside – slushy-gloomy.

The nurse smiles. Richard Hammond teeth whitening. Doctor will see you now.

You clump in, not smiling. Thrilling drilling is not your thing.

The Doc smiles too. Sun-tanned, just back from two weeks in Calabria. Sit back in the chair. Tilt, tilt, tilt. His new scenic of Scilla and Castello Ruffo is on the ceiling. Soothing for nervous types like you. He gives you wraparound specs, but they fog up.

This is it, the moment of tooth.

You can’t see anything, but he’s not drilling. Just tinkering around your mouth with a probe.

And then it hits you.

How safe are you?

The face mask, the latex gloves. To protect him or you?

You’re straight in off the street, still in your coat, pavement grime on your calf boots. If he drills, won’t the germs get in there?

That’s an exposed cavity – sure his instruments are all sterilised – but how safe is that room?

Your feet wiggle, like you can feel the mud through the leather.

Ew!

Lots of people come in here. 15-minute appointments back-to-back, just like yours. Nine-to-five, that’s eight hours – less one off for lunch – 28 patients a day. 28 people with mud on their boots, but you never see anyone sweep the floor.

And all that other street dirt too. Grime in the air that marks collars and cuffs. Germs. All swept in by the gale that happens every time the street door opens. All over everyone’s clothes, their skin…

They think it’s all over

“There we are, all done.”

The dentist is smiling as the chair tips upright. He takes off the wraparounds. Calabria on the walls too. Boats and Italian fishermen.

He helps you out of the chair, comes with you to the door, the nurse too. They both smile – Hollywood brilliance.

The nurse has a remote in her hand. They step out with you and close the door. What’s going on?

The nurse holds up the remote. “My turn?”

He nods and grins at you, kinda schoolboy silly.

“A Captain Kirk moment. Set phasers to stun.”

The nurse presses a button. They both leer at the closed door. Hollywood smiles like movie lights.

The Doc hold up his watch and leans against the wall.

“It only takes five minutes. Our new toy. We call it Starship Enterprise.”

You frown, running your tongue round your teeth. There’s a new roughness where the hole was. Fresh amalgam. And you didn’t even hear the drill. Is something wrong?

The Doc looks embarrassed. Did he notice the mud on your boots?

High-tech hygiene

“It’s our UV light generator, in the corner where your feet were.”

You vaguely remember a thing like a photocopier.

The schoolboy look comes back.

“After every patient, we pop out here and press the button. This super-bright xenon light pops up and pulse-pulse-pulse, kills all the germs it can see – anywhere and everywhere, on the chair, on the instruments, up in the air, all over the place.”

Super-schoolboy now. A gadget freak for sure – or a video game player. Full Hollywood grin too. Super-Jaws.

“Viruses, bacteria, bugs, all gone. And a five minute breather, while we stay out here safe.”

Your turn to grin. No worries about the boots. No worries about anything, you can’t remember.

But you’re curious. Starship Enterprise? UV?

The Doc nudges the door.

“C’mon, take a butcher’s.”

You were right, just like a photocopier – Enterprise is just fantasy. The only difference is a circular hatch on the top. Closed. Where the light lives.

Boys’ toys

He pats it, like it’s a new C320.

“It’s called a Hyperpulse. It bombards the room with high intensity UV light which germs can’t survive. Attacks their DNA – bye bye, bacteria. Every new patient gets a sterile room.”

You smile and your tongue finds the rough spot. Too geeky for you. But not tooth hurty any more. You’d better get back.

No probs, they’re already calling the next patient.

Straight in off the street, yeah.

But safe as houses.

Back Off, Bacteria! is the blog of Hyper Hygiene Ltd, supplier of what we’re convinced is the most effective health protection system in the world. A fully mobile, all-automatic Hypersteriliser machine mists up workplaces with ionised hydrogen peroxide, spreading everywhere and eliminating all bacteria, viruses and fungi.

Hypersteriliser units are supplied to businesses and institutions across the UK, notably the haematology and other critical units at Salford Royal Hospital, Greater Manchester; Doncaster & Bassetlaw Hospital; South Warwickshire Hospital; Coventry & Warwickshire Hospital; and Queen Victoria Hospital, East Grinstead.

The Halo Hypersteriliser system achieves 6-log Sterility Assurance Level – 99.9999% of germs destroyed. It is the only EPA-registered dry mist fogging system – EPA No 84526-6. It is also EU Biocide Article 95 Compliant.

Originally posted on 8 December 2018 @ 3:52 pm

Originally posted on 8 December 2018 @ 3:52 pm