Miracles and Other Unusual Medical Experiences

I have always been a "Fiddler and Diddler" and enjoyed poking into new and different medical fields and/or unexplored medical corners. In order to keep my mind active in my golden years, I have resorted to writing books so as to recall some of the many medical experiences and/or situations which have been encountered in my distant past. This need to remember medical data from these far away times keeps my mind active, alert, and helps to stave off the grim reaper. As I do no have any concrete medical records at my finger tips any more, My memory must supply the data for these stories that I am about to tell. As I am one of the few remaining physicians still on the green side of the ground and not under it looking up, I have lived through what constitutes, at least for me, the "Golden Age of Medicine" . My book on "Reflections on Pediatric Medicine from 1943 to 2010 A Dual Love Story" expounds on the many changes in medicine that have been witnessed by me in my relatively short lifetime. This first book contained much about medicine and some things about my family. My second book, "A Mother, Her Three Sons, and Their Dog A Father's Love for His Family", was a tale much about family, and some about medicine. There needed to be a third book to complete this trilogy concerning the many different and unusual medical encounters in my life; thus, this current book, which will document some of my more interesting and remembered medical events. After floundering around for a new project for 2013, it dawned on me to endeavor to remember and to describe the many situations, which were encountered by me during my lifetime. Two of these events would qualify as true miracles. They were mentioned briefly in my book "Reflections", but will be described in depth and in greater detail in this book. Many medical situations were merely interesting learning episodes for me. Some of my many different encounters will be described. As I pass through many decades of time, I remember being a junior medial student and watching the first shot of penicillin given at the University of Nebraska College of Medicine. Penicillin was very expensive in those early days, namely, $ 25 for a million units. Now, the same amount of penicillin can be purchased for less than a dollar. When I was a sophomore student in the Biochemistry course, Dr. Morgules was the professor. He thought that the newly discovered vitamins were the answer to the maiden's prayer and would correct most of life's illness problems. In part, he was right from a nutritional standpoint. * * * * * In 1952, the State of Nebraska had its worst polio epidemic that had ever occurred. Up until then, we had been spared the devastation of this horrendously damaging disease. There had always been an occasional case of "Infantile Paralysis", but, these occurrences were few and far between. There were over three hundred and sixty children cared for during the summer in Children;s Hospital. Alcoves were used for bed spaces. It was a continuous and prolonged nightmare until the killing October frosts came into being. There were at least thirteen to sixteen children in iron lungs all the time. I, literally lived at the hospital. At times, I was so exhausted that I felt sick to my stomach. I was torn apart by all of the anxieties and sadness depicted upon the faces of the parents and their children. This experience was heart rending. With the few tools that were available at that time to combat polio, I could provide very little solace for their relief. There was pretty little Pamela H., who was a blue eyed blond cutie of four years of age. She started out with lower leg paralysis. Her paralysis gradually crept upwards and came to an end just below her eyeballs. She lived in an iron lung for over a year with all of its discomforts and inconveniences. At long last the paralysis began to descend. Finally, she was capable of coming out of the lung for brief periods and, then, for more prolonged periods of time. She was left with only upper and lower leg paralysis. * * * * * My First Miracle Connie The late spring of 1952 was quiet and unsuspecting concerning the nightmare that was about to descend upon it. There were a few incidences of polio here and there, but that was not unusual for that time of year. Late summer came. Gr. Gedgoud took his August vacation due his suffering from asthma if he stayed in Omaha. Out of the blue like an out of control express train or fast moving tornado, the polio epidemic arrive with gusto and wrought havoc in its wake. I was overwhelmed with a few cases of my own, many of Dr. Gedgoud's. and from panicky physicians in outstate Nebraska with no one to turn to. This horrendous polio season was where I encountered my first bonafide Miracle. This ten year old girl should never have live. or if she did survive, she should not have been left with a functioning brain cell that was active and alive in her head. Her temperatures, alone, should have fried every brain cell to a cinder. She was critically ill in a most devastating manner. Connie was referred from Columbus, Nebraska. Both her grandmother and a younger, three year old sibling sister, Kathy, had died in Grand Island, Nebraska of bulbar polio. Her parents waited on burying their bodies until they knew of Connie's outcome. They truly expected to bury three people. Connie arrived at Children's Hospital having prolonged temperatures of 105 to 108, having almost continuous convulsions, turning blue, and being so desperately ill that each gasping breath seemed to be her last. Survival seemed very unlikely from hour to hour. The grim death vultures sat on her bed rails awaiting their chance for another victim. Continuous ice cold body packs barely lowered the body temperature a smidgen. There were no cooling blankets in those days. Different antipyretics, [aspirin] seemed to have no effect in those days. Every minute seemed as though it was going to be her last. Each hour contained a new crisis. I was mentally and physically exhausted and did not know which way to turn or which way was up or down. Connie was one of my most harrowing cases that I had ever encountered then, or my subsequent many years in medicine. Today, I feel exhausted once again just remembering those nightmare days.