Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Temporis Ars Medicina Fere Est


To many, the sun-dials at the National Naval Medical Center are something of curiosities. Some 70 years ago, each of these conditional timekeepers stood on Navy hospital campuses at Brooklyn, NY, and at Hospital Point in Pearl Harbor (then in the "Territory of Hawaii"). They were among several commissioned by a physician, scholar, and craftsmen named RADM Ammen Farenholt, MC, USN (1871-1956) in the 1920s. Each were cast bronze with the poet Ovid’s timeless advice, “Temporis Ars Medicina Fere Est,” meaning “Time is usually the best means of healing.” Sadly, documentation on Farenholt’s project is surprisingly scant and we do not know how many sun-dials were actually commissioned or in fact still exist. Today there are several known to exist at military hospitals in Bethesda and Newport, RI.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Oral History: Milton Bell on World War II medicine and penicillin

from our extensive files of oral histories...


Telephone interview with A. Milton Bell, World War II pharmacist's mate aboard USS Rixey (APH-3). Conducted by Jan K. Herman, Historian, Bureau of Medicine and Surgery, 18 September 1995.


I would like to talk to you about your experiences on the Rixey. When did you join the Navy?


I joined in 1942 on Whitehall Street in Manhattan. I went on active duty in December '42 and was shipped out to Great Lakes. I was a hospital apprentice first class. While I was in boot camp, I took the test and made third class. I went through boot camp there and then spent most of my time giving shots during the physicals they were giving the boots. We had about 100,000 boots there at the time. We were among the last ones who volunteered. They used the draft after that.


I then worked there for a while as a dental assistant. I was an assistant to Frederick Felix Molt. He was one of the designers of many of the instruments that are still used in dental surgery today. I then made second class at Great Lakes.


I wanted to be a dentist. I didn't do that great in college. Quite frankly, one of the reasons I volunteered was to get everybody off my back. So I went into the Navy and learned how to be a good student. Then I was shipped out of Great Lakes. I went to California with Acorn unit 146, and then with a Marine unit. Then they broke up the acorn unit and put me on a ship to Noumea, New Caledonia to Base Hospital 107.



When did you go aboard the Rixey?


I was assigned to the Rixey from Base Hospital 107. They needed a first class pharmacist's mate and I had just made first class. That was in December of '43. I was in charge of the pharmacy. We made up all the prescriptions, all the cough medicines. When soldiers or marines came on board and got seasick we gave them pink APCs. They were like Anacin but were colored pink. We would take a bottle of a thousand APCs and put a big label on it--"seasick tablets." You'd be surprised how many guys got better.


In our role as a troop transport, we sometimes had troops on board 6 or 8 weeks. They practiced climbing down nets into boats and getting ready for landings. We would rehearse with them as well.



You participated in several invasions?


I was at Lingayen, Luzon, and a week before Okinawa we hit Kerama Retto. From there we were at Ie Shima. There they had problems securing it because the Japs were holed up in caves. And that's where Ernie Pyle died. From there we went to Okinawa.


While we were getting ready for invasions, we made plaster bandages and prepared burn dressings. We treated a lot of burn cases.



You actually had penicillin as early as '43?


It was already on board when I arrived, but we didn't know how to use it properly. We prepared the penicillin in a 50cc syringe. Then we would give 25 individual shots of 2cc each. Each cc was the equivalent of l0,000 units. Today, a 250-gram pill equals a quarter of a million units! Each shot we gave was 20,000 units and we would have to give it every 4 hours around the clock. And the needles got pretty dull because we didn't have disposables. We had little half-inch needles. We autoclaved them, put them on the syringe, gave the guy a shot, removed the needle from the syringe, dropped it in the pot, and then re-autoclaved them.



Going back to the penicillin for a minute, what form did you get it in?


As I recall, it came in powdered form in bottles and we kept it refrigerated. We added saline to it and then shook it up and then it was ready for injection. It was an early form of penicillin. In fact, to us the whole war was the three Ps--plasma, penicillin, and plaster.



You also said you were making bandages.


We were making plaster bandages which were coarse 6-inch bandages. We took the bandage off one reel and wound it onto another reel passing it through dry plaster. The plaster would then be picked up in the gauze of the bandage. We made a bandage that would be 5 or 6 yards long and rolled into a roll about 2 1/2 inches in diameter. We then wrapped it in plain wax paper and stored it in a box in a dry area. When you needed the bandage, you put it into a stainless steel tub filled with water.



What kind of wounds would you treat with those bandages?


The plaster bandages were used for broken legs, broken arms, and for body casts. Let's say someone got shot in the clavicle. He would need a body cast that would hold the shoulder up to immobilize the clavicle. For burn cases, which we had a lot of, we used finer bandages about 2 1/2 or 3 inches wide. We used tongue depressors to fold the bandage back on itself, back and forth, so it would fit in a 1-pound can. You know how a Simonize can looks? The Navy bought cans like that filled with petrolatum but they weren't sterile. We removed the petrolatum and heated it in a little pot on a hot plate. After packing the can with the bandages, we poured the petrolatum over them, sealed the can and autoclaved it so it was sterile. When burn cases came aboard and the skin just came off, we sprinkled the burns with a little sulfathiazole and covered them with the petrolatum impregnated bandages. The patients felt better when you covered their burns, but that treatment also caused terrible scarring. It was the wrong treatment but we didn't know it at the time. Today, you treat them differently.


For anesthesia, we used sodium pentothal, which was new at that time. I became an anesthetist. When I wasn't in the boat transferring patients from the beach to the ship, I would be aboard assisting in surgery doing anesthesia and helping suture the patients.


We used to cut down on the vein on the arm below the elbow and put a cannula in so that if you had to give the patient plasma, serum albumen, or whole blood, you could administer it quickly and continuously when needed. If you were giving anesthesia, we used the same cannula for that. We would make up a big batch of sodium pentothal in a 50cc syringe and then administer a half cc at a time. If the patient were awake, you'd have him count backwards starting from a hundred...99, 98, 97... By the time he reached 80 he was asleep. We did amputations and all kinds of heavy surgery with sodium pentothal.



When you say you "cut down" on an artery do you mean you exposed the vessel so you could get into it?


Yes. We had to expose the vein with instruments so we could get into it with a cannula. We then tied the cannula in place with suture cord so it wouldn't pull out. Then we could administer plasma, serum albumen, whole blood, or sodium pentothal without having to stick the patient each time. And the cannula remained in the arm until we had to take it out. That's something we learned to do as corpsmen.



You also said that beside plasma and serum albumen, you had whole blood.


Very often we would get blood that was out of date. We then got the crew to give blood. It was almost like a direct transfusion. If we needed A blood we asked for an A and verified it by their dogtag. And then a crew member or one of the marines or soldiers we were carrying would be placed on the table and we took a pint of blood. Then we'd transfuse it right into the patient. The donors then got 2 ounces of whiskey but not immediately. We "owed" it to them. That's what they were entitled to and the captain would sign off on it. I think they got Canadian Club.


Speaking of alcohol, we did have some problems with alcohol and morphine syrettes. Someone was stealing them out of the kits. Then when you needed the morphine, you didn't have it. So we tried to hide it. Those of us who were on the shock team would keep the morphine in our own pockets.



You said you were on a shock team. What kind of equipment did you have? Did you have a kit or special instruments?


We had a scissor and a very sharp knife. We also had plasma and needles and I learned how to get into a vein quickly. I was very good at it. You had to be very careful you didn't cut through a vein or artery. We lost a few patients in surgery that way. Once, when we were transferring patients from Guam to Hawaii, one of the doctors elected to remove a bullet from a patient's neck. We prepared for surgery. About 10 minutes into the surgery, he accidently cut the carotid artery. The patient died on the table and we buried him at sea. Things like that happened.



Archives: Navy Hospital Collection - NNMC Burial Logs

Navy Hospital Collection - NNMC Burial Logs
1942-1974
Organizational records
2 boxes, arranged, unrestricted, no finding aid available

Six logbooks with a register of deaths at National Naval Medical Center,
Bethesda, MD. Information includes names, rate or rank, date of birth,
date of death, place of death, cause of death, date of funeral, burial
locations and other information.

Archives: Navy Hospital Collection - NH League Island, PA Record of Operations

Navy Hospital Collection - NH League Island, PA Record of Operations
1919-1933
Organizational records
1 box, arranged, partially restricted, no finding aid available

1 bound volume of surgical operations undertaken at this hospital. Divided by years, type of operation. Includes patient names.

Picture for today: Korean War evacuation


09-7963-85

A wounded ROK [Republic of Korea] soldier is transferred by highline from the heavy cruiser USS St. Paul to the 7th fleet flagship, USS Wisconsin, in Korean waters. He is one of the ROK soldiers who were wounded in a Communist attempt to recapture, by amphibious assault, a ROK held island off the coast of Korea. One wounded North Korean POW was also brought aboard the battleship. [Litters. Transport of sick and wounded.] Korea - miscellaneous. 03/11/1952; U.S. Navy BUMED Library and Archives.

Just for fun...

Monday, October 3, 2011

New Book About Naval Hospital Corona Just Released



In their new book, The Navy in Norco, the husband and wife team of Kevin Bash and Brigitte Jouxtel expertly explore the storied past of Naval Hospital Corona, in Norco, CA, through historical images.

As a Navy hospital commissioned in World War II, Corona was unique. It was not uncommon for the Navy to take over hotels and even on one occasion a former estate, but the hospital established at Corona was different. Constructed in the 1920’s as a luxury hotel and resort called the Norconian, it owed more to San Simeon than to the Ritz. And like Hearst’s home, it served as the playground for the who’s who of Hollywood.

Architecturally, it offered guests a festival of wrought iron, art deco, and Spanish elements complete with resplendent pillars, marble floors, and lavish Heinsbergen murals. Guests could stay in one of the luxurious 250-bedrooms, and access Louis IV-inspired lounges, dining rooms, bath houses and Olympic-sized pools, and of course, a man-made lake. These amenities would later play a pivotal role in the rehabilitation of hundreds of thousands of wounded servicemen returning home from World War II and later the Korean War. It is remarkable that many of these amenities and architectural features like the murals still exist at the old property today.

As a military hospital, Corona proved to be a rarity among its Army and Navy counterparts in that it had a Hollywood star as a chairman of its Naval Aid Auxiliary Hospital Visiting Committee. Kay Francis, once the most highly paid star in Hollywood, headed this cultural affairs committee. Every Thursday, Francis would bring “friends” such as Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney, Claudette Colbert, Cary Grant, Red Skelton, and others, to the hospital to meet with patients. And thanks to her connections, the hospital hosted numerous radio programs, big band concerts, and USO shows.

In the 1950’s, the hospital was used by the Navy as a testing bed for new techniques in Occupational and Physical therapy, and the treatment diseases like tuberculosis. In fact, the Navy saw fit to use the hospital as setting for several important educational and training films now found at the National Archives. Some of these films even featured the celebrities that frequented the hospital in World War II.

An allied Navy history of medicine blog

Dr. Thomas L Snyder, Captain, MC, US Navy, Retired is the Executive Director of The Society for the History of Navy Medicine and writes the blog "Of Ships & Surgeons," at http://ofshipssurgeons.wordpress.com/

He's a regular user of the resources here.