I Quit
Another Company Comes Out With A Static Film Processor
In 1997 X-Ray Support Inc., a company in Spokane, Washington, came out with their version of a static film processor. (above) I thought that I had the only workable way to move liquid into and out of a single tank. They found another very ingenious way. They placed the reaction tank above the developer and fixer tanks, and two water tanks. They use compressed air to push the chemicals and water into the reaction tank, and a vacuum to pull the chemicals back down into their storage tanks. The amazing thing about their processor is the fact that they don’t need fresh water washes. They re-use the water, and change it on a daily basis. I was so concerned about contamination, that I thought it would not be possible to run a processor with a single reaction tank design without using fresh water on each cycle. Their ImageMax proved me wrong. The advantage of their processor over mine is that it requires no plumbing hook-ups. It can be placed on a table-top, and easily moved. It is completely self contained. The disadvantage is that it has only a single tank, so assistants can get backed up waiting for cycles to finish in a busy office. Both of our processors have the tremendous advantage of not losing film, or having scratches, and patient mix-ups. X-Ray Support has put together an excellent film processor. It can be seen at: http://www.imagemax.us/
I Continue Sales
I was working full time as a dentist, and heading up my new processor company at the same time. Forty hours as a dentist, plus another fifty working on Blume Imaging was very difficult; hard on Karen, my wife, and me physically. Dinners were quick, then I was out in my lab, working away. There were many nights that I was on the computer at 2:30 in the morning, wondering, “What the heck am I doing, working on this at 2:30 in the morning?” Then the thought would dissolve, and I would continue. I would frequently go to bed at 2:30 or 3:00. Karen would ask what time it was. I would usually lie and say “midnight”. I knew she would be mad if I told her the real time. I had to get up at 7:30 to get to my dental office. The amazing thing is that I never seemed very tired. The project seemed to have its own energizing effect on me. I was so determined that this would be a successful business venture that I almost didn’t realize what affect it was having on my life. I continued placing ads such as the one above, and selling at conventions. The journals that took my ads told me that I would have a two to three percent response. I found the journal reps to not be very truthful. In reality, almost all of my sales were from direct contact at conventions. I had a very interesting processor that, it would seem, would bring a plethora of curiosity calls. That didn’t happen. If the response was in the range that the journals said they would be, I would have been inundated with phone calls. So I guess it is a blessing that the response was so low. Even with as good of a product as mine was, name recognition is still the number one seller. I hadn’t developed that yet.
I Run Out OF Time and Energy
It is truly amazing how patents and inventions can gobble you up. I have talked to other experienced inventors, and the usual advice they say is to “watch out”; inventions can rule your life. Making a far better processor than any major companies, including Kodak, DentX, Gendex, and AGFA could produce was an incredible ego booster. I am still shocked that companies didn’t bang my door down to get a business deal with me. Reality is always different than dreams.
After two years of going to conventions, paying for advertising, assembling and shipping processors, and basically working harder than I have ever worked since dental school, reality hit me like a flash. One day I was working on a root canal in my office. My wife Karen was at home, getting things ready for the 1997 Chicago Midwinter Convention that we were to attend in a week. Tami, who had spent a lot of time as my sales manager, had been getting sales materials ready for the show. My son Doug, who had just graduated as a biochemistry/pre-med major from UC Santa Barbara, was in the lab assembling developers. He had become very proficient and knowledgeable about the Vision-DS. Doug had some time while he was applying to medical school, and he was really excited about working on the project. I put down the handpiece (drill), excused myself for a minute, and called my wife. I said, “Honey, I’m not doing it anymore”. She said, “Doing what”. “The developer.” Talk about shock and awe. She was stunned. The processor had been such a huge part of our lives that it took time for her to comprehend what I was saying. I had just ordered $25,000 worth of new parts so I could assemble the next twenty-five developers. We had paid $2,500 for our booth, and purchased airline tickets and a hotel room in Chicago. I had always said, “If this doesn’t work, I’m gonna die trying.” I had suddenly realized, “I’m might die!” So that was going to be it. I ordered a Dipsey Dumpster, and, that weekend, I threw out $25,000 worth of plastic parts, circuit boards, and metal brackets. I didn’t want that stuff around to lure me back at a weak moment. I told Karen not to say anything to Tami and Doug just yet. That night we went to dinner as a family. They both felt that something was up. I made the official announcement. They were as shocked as Karen was. We cancelled the airline tickets. The convention office was kind enough to refund my $2,500, and the hotel had no trouble filling my now vacant room. And that was it. I was done. That was in 1997.
Ah, Freedom From the Developer, But I Can’t Let It Go
After a few months went by, I was shocked at the amazing amount of free time I now had. I almost didn’t like my new life. I was used to keeping my brain and hands in a constant hyper-active state. I decided to put together a group of information packets, and send them to the companies most closely related to dental radiology, just in case one of them might be interested. By this time I had gone beyond proving my concept, and hundreds of thousands of films had been very successfully processed. Kinko’s had a price break for ten copies, so I decided to make ten packets. I went through my convention schedule, and found nine companies that fit my criteria. For the extra packet, I decided to close my eyes and point to a company. I was going to send it to whichever company that was, be it in toy sales, or floss. Flatley Dental Inc. was the lucky winner. They weren’t very involved in radiology, but according to my rule, they were to be recipient of my extra packet. I sent all ten. I got nice “turn down” letters from three, and nothing from the rest. I had been using a root canal sensor made by Flatley Dental, and I was having some trouble with it. I really didn’t think they would have any interest in my processor, and I just put that idea out of my head. I went to Flatley Dental’s booth at the Anaheim Dental Convention a few weeks later. I waited in line for a short stocky and rather gruff figure who seemed quite knowledgeable, and who was answering questions for other dentists. I figured he could answer my questions. When I got to the front of the line, he noted my name tag, and asked me if I was the “Blume developer guy”. I answered “yes”. He spent the next ten minutes raking me over the coals. “How do I think I could possibly make a processor that would be better than the ones on the market??” “My idea of putting two chemicals in one tank can’t possibly work.” “Is it FDA approved?” He was so loud and rude, we began drawing a crowd. When I tried to respond, he would just go on to something else. Then when I really tried to get a word in, he mockingly laughed at me, brushed me off, and left. I was livid. How insulting! So, that was all I got out of the ten packets that I sent……..three no’s, six “no response’s” and a huge insult.
Nothing happened for a year. The developer was dead. I had lots of time on my hands, and a few samples sitting in my garage/lab collecting dust. In the meantime, the ones I had in offices were working like Sherman tanks, including mine. On one occasion, for the fun of it, I asked my hygienist how many films she had lost in the last year. Typical roller processors, the standard of the day, lose about 5%. Her answer: “None”. She had done over 3,000 films, and not lost one! Amazing. My assistants chimed in with the same good information.
I went to the convention in Anaheim the next year (April, 1998), and looked for the rep, Victor, from Flatley Dental Inc. who was so rude and insulting the year before. I wanted to finish my conversation with him, just for my own satisfaction. I saw him at the Flatley Dental booth, and got into his line. When I got to the front, I started conversing with him. This time out, he was very friendly and conversational. I asked the question about his equipment that I was unable to ask the year before. He answered in expert fashion, and he gave me his card in case I had any problem. Then I reminded him about who I was, and about our previous year’s debate. He hadn’t remembered me, but when he realized who I was, he remained friendly, and, amazingly, interested this time. I started informing him about features of my processor, and he became even more interested. He said, “Why didn’t you tell me that last year??” Obviously he hadn’t read my packet the year before. He canceled his flight out that night, and spent the next full day in my office running my processor. And, he was amazed. He loved it! He scheduled a time a couple of weeks later for the CEO of Flatley Dental, Jude May, to come in and watch it work. Naturally, I was nervous that it would malfunction on that day, which it just about never did. Jude came to the office with several engineers and Victor, and we ran some films. True to form, it ran like the well designed machine that it is………perfectly; and it processed perfect film, which was carefully scrutinized by Victor. Jude was completely excited about the developer, and gave me a “letter of interest” a few days later. There was just one problem: because the Vision-DS rotated film into the reaction tank, the radius involved might make it too big to process orthodontic film (8”x 10”) and large panoramic (6”x12”) film. I designed the film holders to rotate into the tank so the processor could have a second cycle. When one set of film is processing, another could be attached to the top side of the lid, and when the first set is finished, it would rotate up, and the second set would rotate down into the reaction tank. A single tank processor without rotation would require a second assistant to wait by the processor while an earlier set was processing. My users had to work with 5”x12” (small) panoramic film, which was all that was really needed. 6” x 12” (large) panoramic film, which came out after I started my original design, is far larger than is necessary for successful diagnostics. But, Jude said that if a large company like theirs brought out a processor, it would have to process all film sizes. One rule that inventors are always haunted with: there’s always a glitch. You are never quite “there”. In the meantime, the New York Times wrote an article on QuickScan. A little excitement for Blume Imaging! I made the New York Times!
Ed Tries to Make a Model
I knew that I had to come up with some way to process large film in my processor, or my “deal” with Flatley Dental was dead. I decided to go ahead and construct a prototype processor with large radii, and hope it wasn’t too large for Jude’s taste. I spent several weeks putting one together. There I was, again, both working in the lab and on the computer at 2:30 in the morning! But, I had to get the model made while Flatley Dental was interested. After several hundred hours of work, I finished the working model, and brought it into my office. I called Jude so he could come over and see it. He took a step in the door, took one look, and said, “Too big”. Then he walked out. That was that; lots of work down the drain in a few seconds, which is common form for inventors. I really knew it was too large; I called it “Gigantus”. I took it home, snapped a few pictures of it, then took a sledge hammer to it and put it in the trash.
The problem of modifying my processor to accept the larger film seemed daunting; maybe not do-able. The strange thing about inventing is that you never know if something can be done until it is done. You are never “there” until you actually make a model that solves the problem that you are trying to solve. And, you might have an unsolvable problem. I mean absolutely no comparison between me and Thomas Edison or the Wright brothers, but inventing this processor gave me a slight idea of what they went through making their absolutely wondrous inventions. The thought processes are similar. You go down many paths to dead ends before you find a path that works.
I had several long meetings with Flatley Dental engineers, with Jude in charge, to try to solve the dilemma. A Flatley Dental engineer came up with the idea of making a separate box to hold film for a second cycle, and using just a single tank. When the “first” assistant removed her film from the processor, she could place the film from the box into the processor for the “second” assistant, who had uncovered her film and placed them in the box. My idea was to have a chain mechanism on each side of the reaction tank to move the film like a “flat” ferris wheel with only two chairs one at the top and one at the bottom. Both ideas seemed bad. We were stuck. Since the best idea was my “chain” design, Flatley Inc. hired an engineer, Ed Smits, to make a first prototype. We had several meetings with Ed, Jude, Victor, and the other Flatley Dental engineers to discuss the design perameters. That was somewhat exciting, however I was not at all happy or comfortable with the design. But, I was excited to see what he could come up with.
Three months later, Ed was done with the prototype. Jude excitedly called me to let me know we would meet at Flatley Dental to see the results. Victor flew out from Pennsylvania just for the big unveiling. Several of the engineers were there. When we walked into the room, the model was covered with a sheet. Ed walked around the room proud and excited, like a rooster strutting his stuff. After a few minutes of introduction, Ed dramatically uncovered the prototype. We were stunned. It was an unimaginable horror! The “model” was made of Home Depot pressed-wood shelving material! The knobs were chlorine bottle tops! Ed had purchased an engineered chain mechanism. Turning the bottle caps would run the films up and down into the “reaction tank”, which of course wouldn’t hold water. It was amazing in that it was so unbelievably bad! I will never forget the look on Victor’s face. He had flown all the way out from Pennsylvania for this! That meeting, of course, ended quickly, and I never did see Ed again. Obviously, he was an not an engineer, and I had no idea where Jude had found him. The only thing that I gleaned from Ed’s model was that it was obvious that the chain mechanism had to go. It just wasn’t going to work. Again, we were stuck. I would have been happy if one of the engineers could have come up with an idea so we could get going with a deal, and manufacturing, but I was also very protective of my invention. I really wanted to be “the guy” that would solve all design problems on the processor. In a way I was glad that we were still stuck. That gave me time to think, and, hopefully, solve the seemingly unsolvable. I had worked with many engineers. Of course, all of them would come up with ideas to solve different problems on the processor. Luckily, I was always able to outdo any of them in finding real workable solutions to puzzles. I wanted the processor to be my design, not a conglomeration of many ideas from many engineers.
I Get A Brain Flash and My Fourth Patent
A few days later I was driving along, and, as would frequently happen, I got a thought “flash”. What if I used two tanks in the front, and offset them so that the plumbing and valves could be attached to the back of each tank. Then the tanks could run two sets of film in concurrent but staggered cycles! This design would save a lot of time, because the Vision-DS had consecutive cycles. It took about thirteen minutes to run two sets of film. With concurrent but staggered cycles, two cycles would take about nine minutes. I had played around with designs using two tanks in 1993, but I couldn’t see any way to get the tubes and valves attached, unless I placed one tank at the front and one at the back of the processor, which would look dumb. The electronic cycles would be extremely complicated for that type of design, plus it would be ergonomically awkward. At the time I dropped the idea. But having two offset tanks in the front of the processor would solve the problem! I went to the lab and I immediately started cutting acrylic and gluing tanks together. Within a day (there I was again: up at 2:30 AM), I finished the prototype. (upper left) I filled the storage tanks with water, I hooked up the power, and turned it on. I was amazed. It worked perfectly. I think I leaped around the lab for a few minutes, then I got Karen to come in and take a look. She couldn’t believe it. She was as excited as I was. Her first comment was, ”Why don’t we just do it ourselves? It’s so clean! So simple! We don’t need Flatley!” I knew the amount of work that would still be necessary to get it ready for manufacture, so that wasn’t even a thought in my head. I just couldn’t do it on my own all over again. I sent in a preliminary patent application so I could lock a date for my new design. I received my fourth patent on this design a couple of years later.
I called Jude and let him know that I had solved the large film problem. We scheduled a meeting a few days later. Victor flew out from Pennsylvania again, I covered the prototype with a sheet again. The Flatley Dental engineers were there. All we were missing was Ed the non-engineer. I uncovered the prototype and ran it. Everyone in the room immediately knew that this was it. There were almost no questions or discussion. Everyone agreed that the design problem was solved. We shook hands, smiled, and we were off and running. A couple of days later I met with Jude, and the vice-president, Fred Murray. We signed a contract which stated Flatley Dental would develop the project, and that I was to be available several days a week for consultation. I received a check to lock a five year agreement. And that was it. We were over the “hump”.
Book'm said,
September 24, 2009 at 5:50 am
Interesting read. Convinces me the audience interested in this read is going to be technical. Idea. Write two books. This more factual biography, and the light entertaining version for the general public and the movie.
Bk’m