St. Bernard's: The Romance of a Medical Student. Edward Berdoe

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СКАЧАТЬ he was required to write complete family histories, going into the minutest details, as practice in note-taking. He was called on to carry out, with the assistance of the nurses, daily, all the directions as to the dressings and bandaging required by the nature of the case; and was encouraged to avail himself, while doing so, of any and every means that would assist him in the acquisition of his art, so far as it was consistent with the regular treatment of the patient, and was not calculated to alarm him or make him think it was not actually connected with his cure. Our house surgeon was going in for ophthalmology, and he never missed an opportunity of dropping belladonna into every patient’s eyes, and taking stock of his retina with the ophthalmoscope. Whether you had cracked your skull or broken your leg, fractured a rib or sprained your ankle, your eyes must be examined minutely, on the chance of something pretty turning up to show the professor of ophthalmology. Dr. Wilson was such an enthusiast on eyes that one day, happening to pass through one of the out-patient wards, he caught sight of a working man in whose visual organs he instantly detected something of interest. Immediately he had him under a lamp, and set to work making sketches of the morbid appearances in the retina, explaining to the other students the beautiful things to be seen therein. Now the patient had not come about his eyes, but being troubled with indigestion, wanted a bottle of medicine to cure it; and he was naturally surprised that for three mortal hours eighteen young gentlemen should be examining his eyes, which wanted no treatment but the sight of a little more weekly pay; and marvelled that no questions should be asked him about the ailment which caused him discomfort. He was still more amazed when, as evening drew on, one after another went away, and nobody prescribed anything for him at all! However, one of the resident staff saw him before the place was closed, and he had a bottle of “house mixture,” and went away more satisfied; but still wondering at the singular ways of doctors.

      Let us go round the wards with Dr. Wilson and our hero, his new assistant.

      Here is a middle-aged woman, evidently having but a short time to live, yet this afternoon Dr. Wilson says his chief proposes to perform upon her a capital operation. He has not the least hope it can save her life, but the chance of performing such an operation arises but seldom; and it is but just and kind to the house surgeon, who wants all the practical work he can get, to let him assist. So the woman and her friends are duly pressed to consent that this – “the only means of saving her life” – shall forthwith be done. To this end all the nurses are instructed to urge her. At last she submits. She will be carried to the operating theatre, and this chance of instruction will fall to Dr. Wilson’s hands; for, as soon as the chloroform has effected its work, he will take the place of the chief, and “do his first strangulated hernia.” Dr. Wilson is jubilant – slightly nervous, for it is very grave work. It is utterly unjustifiable work, Elsworth thinks, but dare hardly express his thoughts except by a timid question or two. He knows he must steel himself to plenty of such matters, that his turn will come and that he would not like to leave St. Bernard’s without doing just as much himself. But his heart, for all that, misgives him.

      “Might he warn the patient of her imminent danger?”

      “On no account! It might cause her to revoke her consent; might, at any rate, depress her, and hasten the catastrophe.”

      In the next bed is an elderly woman with a contused side. That is a slight matter. It was not for that she was taken in, but in her examination in the out-patients’ department it was discovered that she had a peculiarly interesting bony growth on her leg that would make a very neat and pretty operation. So a bed was found for her, and daily and increasing pressure put upon her to have this queer growth removed. It was no inconvenience or annoyance to her at all. She was past middle life, and she had been told by her family doctor there was not the slightest occasion for operative interference; but everybody at St. Bernard’s wanted just such a case to try a new method of treatment recently invented in Vienna, and the chief surgeon was eager to do the operation, and all concerned were charged, as they loved him, not to let it slip. That also was to come off this afternoon.

      The next bed is occupied by a girl, the subject of a rare and very interesting skin affection. No active treatment has yet been suggested, as it is much too pretty to spoil by any attempt at cure just yet. Several surgeons are expected from other hospitals to see it, so she has an ounce of peppermint water three times a day and full diet, and the cure is postponed till a sufficient number of interested people have seen it. Drawings must be made; the artist to the hospital could not attend for a week to come; then there were photographs to be taken, and it would never do to spoil anything so effective by commencing a cure. So “repeat the mixture,” till science has done with the first part of the case, and therapeutics can step in.

      “That woman, you will perceive,” said the surgeon, “has a squint. She came in with a fracture of the arm, but with a little more pressure she will let us operate on the ocular deformity. I like doing squints. By the way, there is a woman dying in the next ward who has a perfectly charming optic neuritis. You ought to see that. Don’t examine it very often, as it hurts her dreadfully, and she can’t live much longer; but the case is perfectly typical. I am going to sketch it this evening. One don’t like to hurt folks if it can be avoided, but this is much too good to miss. She grumbles a bit at being disturbed, and I fear suspects all this is no part of her treatment; but I order her a glass of wine before I begin, and she likes that.”

      They next enter one of the male wards, and Dr. Wilson draws Elsworth’s attention to a man in articulo mortis. “He can scarcely live till the next morning,” says he; “but if you are interested in phthisis, take your stethoscope and have a quarter of an hour overhauling his posterior thorax. There are some sounds to be heard that with careful auscultation are quite typical, and one very rarely gets them so distinct. Don’t be too long at him, as turning him over on his face exhausts him so much, and we have examined him a good deal lately, poor devil!” Elsworth was obliged to assume a look of eager interest in the proposed investigation, for the sake of pleasing his instructor, but he resolved that the auscultation, as far as he was concerned, should at least not distress the poor sufferer. How any human being could find it in his heart to disturb the last moments of his patient with investigations of “cavernous breathing,” “râles,” and “pectoriloquy” puzzled our hero; – but then, this was his first day in his new office; he had much to learn yet.

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