Fencing with God

Chapter 2- Appendectomy

I was eight years old, and one evening shortly after dinner, I suddenly developed a stomach ache, and realized all was not right with the world. My mothers cooking was suddenly not meeting the high standards that I had set for her.

In actuality, I had gone to my mother holding my abdomen in pain, and telling her that I was sick. My parents called the family doctor as this seemed out of proportion to the usual gastrointestinal ache that kids can develop from over indulging with food or candy after school.

Dr Schwartz arrived shortly, and as usual was well dressed in a neat suit, with a rose pinned in the jacket slit. He always presented himself so well, that even a youngster like myself would take notice of his impeccable appearance. He had the aura of the dedicated man. It also seemed to me that he showed such dedication, as exemplified by his availability to patients and families. I actually found this same attitude to carry over by most physicians throughout my lifetime of practice. House calls appeared to be more commonplace, due in some degree to the lack of equipment to accommodate certain cases, and the lack of emergency rooms for ordinary care. It turns out that some of these same problems persist today as well.

When I looked at Dr Schwartz, I felt there was so much to learn, and immediately I wanted to emulate him. However, not at this moment , since I had more pressing things on my mind today.

After asking me a few questions and having me lie down, he began gently touching and feeling my abdomen. He then went over to my parents. It was obvious that there was something seriously wrong.

I heard the words "go to the hospital, appendicitis, and probable surgery".

In spite of my own hesitation, I was quickly bundled-up in my clothes and put into our 1936 black Dodge and whisked -off to the hospital.

In a blur of events, I had blood drawn from my arm, and my clothes were taken away from me and I was given a hospital gown. I suddenly realized I was being prepared for the operating room! It was time to get scared. I told every one that I was better, but my parents were no help. I met the surgeon and told him the same thing and that the pain was gone. Most likely he had experienced this trick before, and he didn't believe me. The decision had been made.

Somehow I could tell they were planning to operate and I couldn't get out of it. Little did I know that I was destined to spend years and years of time in a similar environment in my lifetime, both as a surgeon, and later as a patient.

As they wheeled me into the operating room, I could see that there were several people waiting for me. Nurses and aides, and another doctor in a scrub suit appeared in a cap, mask, and gown and looking very foreboding. He was preparing what appeared to be a series of cocktails for me. In a few minutes a shadowy figure told me to start counting backwards from 100 as I breathed in the air. He dripped a fluid on to a mask held over my face. It had a distinctive odor to it, never to be forgotten. To this day I remember counting down to 93 and then I lost all consciousness. Later I found out it was ether that was abandoned many years later as an anesthetic agent because it was so flammable.

Some time later I awoke without my severely inflamed appendix . Several days later the surgeon came by to remove those enormous looking sutures in my wound and I went home.