Some Problems Arise

 

 

Trouble with the Molds and Plastics Designs

 

I spent incredible amounts of time working to get the Vision-DS design completed. A usual workday would be fourteen hours. Once the prototype was finalized, I was able to design the molds for the plastic parts using my CAD program on the computer. To make the tanks for my processor I needed a type of plastic forming called roto-molding. Roto-molds are large hollow aluminum molds. Wood models (right photo) of the part are first made which are later used to cast the molds in metal. Shown is the wood model of the chassis cover. Once the mold is finished, plastic granules are measured and then placed inside of the molds. The molds are then placed on a large rotating metal tree, then into a 400 degree oven. The plastic melts and coats the inside of the molds as the tree turns. It is then quickly cooled with air or water, leaving a hollow part, perfect for constructing tanks. Technicians trim the parts with drills, saws, and routers, then flame polish.

I picked a company in San Bernardino, D-Par, to oversee the making of the molds, and to run the parts. I talked to Marge Gleason, the owner, and she seemed to be very knowledgeable and enthusiastic about the project. We reviewed all of the parts and parameters thoroughly before starting, and I was very comfortable that I had a good company to work with. I needed multiple ¼” bumps extruding into the reaction tank to keep the film from getting stuck against the tank wall due to surface tension, which would ruin the film. Marge told me that the way we had the molds designed we absolutely would have ¼” high rounded bumps, and she drew on her blackboard how far they would extrude, and what they would look like. Marge had selected Mainland Products in Ontario to produce the molds. Marge would do all of the communicating with Mainland, and she instructed me to stay away from them. She told me that customers often get in the way trying to communicate with the mold makers, and cause great delays in the molding procedures. I said fine, and I gave her my CAD drawings and a $10,000 deposit from Flatley Dental. It was to take about ten weeks to complete the molds. Weeks went by without any communication from Marge. I called a couple of times to see how things were going, and Marge assured me that all was well and to just be patient. Another month went by with no questions or news from D-Par. I was worried. I decided to go to Mainland myself and see what the hold up was. When I went in and introduced myself, they were so happy to see me. “We have been waiting for weeks for someone to go over these molds with us. We had questions we needed answered before we could proceed! Where have you been?!” I could not believe it. The wood models for the molds that have to be made before the molds can be constructed had just been sitting on their bench for weeks. Marge had not been truthful with me, and was not doing her job; hard to imagine. I spent several hours going over the partially completed wood models with the techs. There were dozens of tiny details that the they needed in order to finish the project, and Marge had just ignored their questions. That “uh oh” feeling crept in again. Was I going to have to fire my plastics company before I even got started?

Now that Mainland had the information that they needed, they were able to complete the models, and finish the molds about a month later. I had given them my phone number so they could ask me any questions directly; and there were plenty. When I confronted Marge with the her failure, she just kind of shrugged it off, and said D-Par had been extremely busy and “sorry”. I foolishly decided to stay with D-Par due to the great amount of time it would take to interview new companies, and make the move. I had Marge order stainless steel inserts, which are like little threaded nuts, which are imbeded into the tanks when the plastic is formed. Stainless steel for all metals used in a processor is a must because any other metal would corrode near processing chemicals.

The day before the parts were to be run, Marge called me and told me that it was pertinent that I be there at 7:00 AM when the parts came off the trees so I could check them. Of course I was excited, and got little sleep. I got up at 5:30, and drove eighty miles through traffic to get there at 7:00. Marge wasn’t there. A new engineer, Roger, that she had hired, and who didn’t know anything about roto-molding, was. The parts had not even been started! Roger told me with a smiley face that the techs would start running them right away! Of course my blood was about to boil, but I remained outwardly calm, and I sat down and read a magazine, and I waited. At about 9:30 Roger informed me that, “The first parts are ready. Isn’t that great?” I came back to see how they were. They were bent and distorted. They were all run in cream/white plastic which made them translucent, which meant I couldn’t use them to make a processor. The light coming through the tanks would ruin the film. The plans called for black plastic. The metal inserts were aluminum, not stainless steel. The “bumps” looked like miniature fried eggs; about 1/16” high. The parts were a complete disaster. I was starting to feel how George Long must have felt. Nothing was going right. When Roger sensed my anger, he treated me in a short and rude manner, not the way a customer should be treated. I decided right then and there that that was the end of D-Par.

 

 

I Find a Plastics Company That Can Do The Job…I Think

I went back to Mainland on my way home and asked the techs there, “Who was the best roto-molder in Southern California?” I had found D-Par on their website, which looked impressive at the time. I figured an actual recommendation from mold techs would be the best way to go this time. They all agreed that the only place to go was Jacobson Plastics, in Long Beach. That sounded great to me, and the next day I called them and made an appointment with Joe Armendarez, the manager. We had a very positive meeting. I showed him the parts that had been run by D-Par. Joe was well aware of Marge, he hinted that she was not too highly thought of, and he told me that he would have no problem running the parts. A few days later he forwarded me quotes, which were comparable to D-Par’s. I wrote a termination letter to D-Par, and I was off and running with Jacobson Plastics. Marge called me and acted very puzzled as to why I had let them go. I had as pleasant of a conversation with her as I could. She wanted one more chance to do the work, and, of course, I said no. And, that was the last I saw of Marge and her grossly un-knowledgeable and rather rude assistant engineer.

Jacobson Plastics ran my first group of parts. I made five initial sets, so I could put together five processors. I didn’t want to run too many at first because I knew there would be changes. I had redesigned the processor so the film holders themselves would keep the film away from the reaction tank, so the “bumps” that I didn’t get with Marge were no longer an issue. When I picked up the parts, I was so excited about finally having them. I felt like a little kid at Christmas. I assembled and tested the reaction tanks. Naturally, a problem appeared. The reaction tanks leaked around the metal inserts. I took them apart and drove them back to Jacobson to show Joe. Of course he was shocked, because they so carefully test each part for leaks in a water bath. Detailed inspection showed that air bubbles were being trapped around the inserts which caused the leaking. Joe immediately had five new reaction tanks run. I picked them up a week later, confident that these would be fine. I took them home, and assembled several units. I could have done my own leak test at Jacobson, but once the holes are cut into the tanks during finishing, the valves and plates have to be attached to get a serious test. So I went on Joe’s assurances that there were no leaks. I filled them with water, and three of the five leaked again! I called Joe, who was apologetic, and said it had something to do with the temperature being used in the oven, or the plastic material itself. But this was a huge headache. Joe finally ran about fifteen tanks, of which five didn’t leak, so I was able to put five units together. Joe was going to test other materials, different temperatures, different spins, to see if he could solve the problem. We eventually solved it by using a different type of plastic called cross-linked, and with a lot more effort than any of us had anticipated.

Another problem that I ran into was the fact that when I placed the chassis cover over the base with the tanks attached, the cover didn’t go all the way down. The molders had made the tanks slightly too large, and they prevented the cover from seating. In retrospect, the base and the cover molds should have been made first. Then the wood models for the tanks could have been constructed and fit under actual base and chassis cover parts. The molders, being experts at their trade, should have known this, and so informed me. But everything doesn’t always go perfectly. Mainland did make good molds. If I had made the cover before the tanks, it would have made fitting and assembly easy, and saved me an incredible amount of time. But when anything in engineering doesn’t quite fit, it might as well be a mile off. As it was, the cover was only about ½” from going all the way down, but it was obvious and looked bad.

Victor from flew out from Pennsylvania on several occasions. He kept a careful watch over what I was doing. Victor was very upset that his “George Long” processor failed. He still thought it was good, and he was angry with me because he thought that I caused it’s failure. He truly didn’t know how bad it was, and any explaining by me just made him madder. The disaster made him look bad in the eyes of the company. Victor and I got along, but our relationship was always edgy. He seemed to get a bit of pleasure out of any problems that I was having. He mentioned once that Flatley could make a processor with pumps, and completely cut me out of the project. I was a little puzzled as to what he was talking about, and when I asked him, he clammed up. Above right is me with my son Doug, expertly helping me with assembly.

 

 

 

Flatley Dental wanted to take a unit to the February 2001 Chicago convention. They didn’t want to spend the money for me to come along, unfortunately. The processor was supposed to be at Flatley Dental at 5:00 in the afternoon the Tuesday before the convention for shipping. As luck would have it, I finally got a good set of parts from Jacobson a couple of days before. I worked feverishly to get two units together. I was going to send the best of the two, since these were the very first. I made two units in case anything went bad with one; I would have a back-up. I finished the chosen unit at around 3:00 PM, just before it was supposed to be shipped. I still couldn’t get the cover down. I put a piece of carbon paper over the tanks and I pressed the cover down on the unit. I ground the storage tank where the blue marks appeared. This is how a dentist fits a gold crown to a tooth. I repeated this time after time after time. And while I was doing this, time was ticking away. Beads of sweat began forming on my brow. I ground and pressed, and each time I did that it seemed like not much movement took place. The cover hardly went down at all! At 4:00 I started getting anxiety attacks. By 4:45, I was still about ¼” away from seating the cover. It still didn’t look very good. I had to give up, and send it as it was. I put my Dremel tool in the shipping container, hoping that Victor could finish the grinding in Chicago. That was wishful thinking. I delivered it to Flatley Dental at exactly 5:00. When Victor removed the processor from the box in Chicago, he called me, and I had my third major scolding from him: “I don’t have time to grind it, who do I think I am, this can’t go on the floor with the cover not down, blah, blah blah.” Of course, if I were there, I could have finished the fitting easily, or any of the Flatley Dental engineers could have. Of course this could have been a “team” effort between Flatley and me. That would have made things so much easier. But it wasn’t, and I couldn’t expect any help from them at all. The processor was shown at that show as a prototype, which is what it really was. Victor remained angry with me for a while, but that blew over. I had to take the molds back to Mainland to have the parts refitted so the chassis could fit down. That took at least three tries, but we were finally successful. Looking back, I could have taken a torch and softened the plastic, and pushed down the chassis cover quite quickly and easily. But, unfortunately, I didn’t think of that when I needed to, which can be a common engineering foible: you think of a solution to a problem after the fact, when it does you absolutely no good. Also, Flatley Dental never appointed an engineering aid to help me on this project. What I was doing for Flatley Dental would be performed by a team of engineers if this were any other company. It took a team of five engineers to put together George Long’s disaster. I was on my own entirely on this project. I didn’t complain, though, because Fred was constantly telling me that we were “over budget”, an untruth that had great meaning later on.

I Install Beta-Sites

I assembled five processors, and placed four in dental offices in Southern California. The first one went into my ex-partner’s office, Dr. Robert Hammond. It ran there for a couple of months in early 2002 before I placed the other three units. I wanted to make sure Dr. Hammond’s unit ran well before installing any others. Because I had over twenty of my original Vision-DS’s running very successfully in offices throughout the United States and Canada, I thought that the new ones would go in without problem. That was not the case. They actually did not go perfectly, but they were close. Anytime a model is changed, it will most likely require design modifications. I had to modify the way the chemicals returned to the storage tanks. The wiring for the tank heater needed modification, as the heater had remained on too long on a few occasions, overheating the chemicals, which caused the film to turn out black. The plastic chassis cover allowed some light to come through, which damaged the film in one beta site. The office had tremendously bright lights in the darkroom, so when the assistant placed the film in the processor, she turned the lights on, which leaked through the cover and damaged the film. I had to paint the inside of the chassis cover with black paint. I then changed the plastic material on future units to one that was more opaque. Once these modifications were made, the processors ran incredibly well, with few problems. When problems did show up, it just gave me a sick feeling, as the patient needed the films retaken. And, I always expected perfection of myself, in everything that I did. Dentists constantly work with miniature engineering, and we are trying to fit restorations that must have perfectly sealed edges, and a perfect bite and appearance. And we think everything we install must last at least forever, if not longer. We become emotional wrecks when they don’t. So that was always my feeling with the developer. I expected perfection every time, and no matter how hard I tried, perfection was a tough goal to reach. Once I resolved these early problems, the processors ran with near perfection, with great developing quality, and virtually no film loss. The above photos show two of the beta-sites. The left photo is the installation for Drs. Gary Claman, Ted Witt, and Ron Takai. I had designed a daylight loader for the Vision-DS2, which allows the dentist to process film with the room light on. It can be seen in the photo. Above right is Dr. Wayne Gouvion’s unit.

I sent a unit to Victor in Pennsylvania. He had a dental office there that he wanted to install it in as a beta-site. After installing the unit, he called me and said it wasn’t working. He pressed the start key, and “nothing”; just some funny beeps. I couldn’t understand it because it worked perfectly here in my lab. Victor became exasperated, and sent the unit back. When I got it, I simply pressed the IC chip into the socket on the circuit board, and it worked great. The controller chip had been bumped loose during shipping. A very simple fix. Victor had no knowledge whatsoever on simple repair techniques for the processor. As such, he should not have been installing beta sites. Actually, there was not a person in Flatley Dental capable of installing and supporting the Vision-DS2. The bad thing is that I was the only one in the entire company who was knowledgeable, which put a great deal of responsibility on my shoulders. Victor flew out to our next meeting at Flatley Dental, and gave me another bit of a scolding because of the beta site “failure”. I tried to explain to him that the controller chip would be soldered in the manufactured models, and then it could not possibly jiggle loose. The socket-type chip was only for test units so the program could be modified as needed. Victor remained a bit unhappy. I just kind of got blank stares from the other Flatley Dental people in attendance when I needed to explain anything about the processor. This project continued to be a one man show. I explained to the group that my beta sites were running incredibly well, and that any glitches to date were extremely rare for a complex project such as this. Fred said, skeptically, that the reason my processors were doing well was that I was close by and therefore I was able to micro-manage them. I told him that that was not the case. To prove this, I sent two developers to dentists in Florida who were current users of my Vision-DS. The dentists themselves installed the units, and ran them almost without incident. There were a couple of very minor adjustments that had to be made. The dentists were able to do the adjustments with my assistance over the phone. As of this writing, my processors have been running for four years, and have processed hundreds of thousands of films successfully. When I would announce this fact to Flatley Dental heads, I would usually just get the familiar blank stare. Instead of getting much needed help on this project, I always felt that Flatley Dental and I were adversaries, with me constantly having to defend this really great project.