Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #220

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Alpha Omega M.D. – Episode #220

Chapter Twelve

CARELESS WHISPERS

…Doctor A.O. Campbell has as much experience on the front line as anyone there, but the entire group is still shaken by the epidemic, having fought the same disease tooth and nail, from every conceivable angle…

New England in Winter

Winter in New England

  ‘What am I doing in Boston in January? asks Dr. A.O Campbell of himself, not particularly waiting for an answer. Had he bothered to respond aloud, he would have said: ‘I’m back at my alma mater, Tufts University Medical School for a symposium on the Spanish influenza and related infectious virus and bacteria’, or something thereabouts, but likely less formal.

It is the first time he has returned to the school since graduating in 1913. Every five years or so, doctors are required to demonstrate that they are staying current, in a field that is progressing as fast as any sector of post war America. There was a time when, thirty or more years ago, when medicine was less technical and more speculative, with certain practicing doctors being graduates of dubious institutions. Snake oils and herbs were used to treat diseases and illnesses with nondescript names like, consumption and the rickets. Anesthesia consisted of either biting down hard on a rag or a bottle of whiskey.

So in the interest of science, young Dr. Campbell, about to celebrate his thirtieth birthday, chugs up the East coast, which sports a blanket of fresh white snow from about Washington north. Floridians are not used to this kind of cold, never seeming to be prepared for these type conditions, even a doctor who should have better sense. His teeth will chatter until he is able to purchase something more substantial than a summer suit of clothes.

It was not the most exciting three days he will spend in 1919, but it was nice to stroll around the granite buildings again. As discussions go among physicians, this gathering is useful, as well as fruitful. There are ideas to be exchanged and the experiences in the field to be related. Doctor A.O. Campbell had as much experience on the front line as anyone there, but the entire group is still shaken by the epidemic, having fought the same disease tooth and nail, from every conceivable angle. A good doctor will learn every day of his or her career. That is what makes a good doctor.


Alpha Omega M.D.

Boston Victory Parade by Charles H. Woodbury

Episode #220


page 205

WORLD WIDE WORDS Issue 867 – WIF Style

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Issue 867

Issue 867

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WORLD WIDE WORDS NEWSLETTER
Issue 867: Saturday 1 February 2014

 

Contents

1. Feedback, Notes and Comments.

2. Apotropaic.

3. Wordface.

4. Give the mitten.

5. Sic!

6. Useful information.

1. Feedback, Notes and Comments

Snake oil John Bakke found an earlier reference to the medicinal use of snake oil than I included in the piece last week. It was in the Royal Gazette of New York dated 21 February 1778: “Wanted: By a certain Gentleman, some Rattle Snake Oil. Any person having this article, and is willing to dispose of a small quantity, will by applying to Mr. Rivington be paid their demand for the same, it being wanted for a particular occasion.” We are both intrigued as to the nature of the particular occasion.

Hugo van Kemenade found an even earlier one in a letter that the Rev John Clayton wrote in 1687 (Clayton later became Dean of Kildare in Ireland and was the first person to extract an inflammable gas from coal): “There are three Sorts of Oils in that Country [Virginia], whose Virtues, if fully proved, might not perhaps be found despicable. The Oil of Drums, the Oil of Rattle Snakes, and the Oil of Turkey Bustards.” An excellent find which, as so often, raises a further question: what is oil of drums? Many Americans will know what I had to be told: that it’s oil from one of several fish called more fully drum-fish that have the power of making a drumming noise. Presumably in this case it’s the salt-water drum of the Atlantic coast.

“Believe it or not,” Henk Rietveld emailed, “a modern, non-medicinal snake oil is on the market. It bears no resemblance to the product flogged in the 19th century, but in fact is a cleaner/lubricant for sewer snakes — those sinuous cables used to clear clogged drains. I work in a large retail store that rents these things, and upon return, they are power-washed and coated with snake oil. This prevents rusting, and promotes somewhat easier insertion into the next clogged drain. I must confess that I laughed when I was first faced with the product, but believe me, it’s real.”

2. Apotropaic/ˌæpəʊtrəʊˈpeɪɪk/

Tomorrow, 2 February, is a Christian festival day that has a number of names, one of them Candlemas. It got that name because on that day in medieval times people brought candles to church to have them blessed by the priest. This was thought to give the candles the power to ward off evil spirits — in the language of religion and folklore, they became apotropaic.

The word is classical Greek, apotrepein, to turn away or avert. Like other civilisations, Greeks and Romans had many rituals that were designed to ward off evil. Grotesque masks and faces, such as the Medusa head of the ancient Greeks or the gargoyles on medieval churches, frightened witches and demons away; incantations and gestures kept the devil at a distance; amulets preserved their wearers from malignant spirits; holly and rowan were effective against evil; symbols such as the all-seeing eye were put on wineglasses, houses, boats or tombs. All were apotropaic.

Although the house is humble, with no fancy architectural details, he noticed a few things that dated it to the late 17th or early 18th century. These included an “apotropaic symbol”, carved on the inglenook and intended to keep witches from coming down the chimney.
Sunday Times, 13 Mar. 2011.

3. Wordface

Thankfully, we’re digital Howard Sinberg emailed from Florida to ask about chloephobia, which seems to be the newest member of a vast class of names for irrational fears. It’s not a morbid dislike of girls named Chloe but a fear of newspapers. It appeared in the Daily Mail in Britain on 27 January and the story has since been widely reproduced. It claimed that one sufferer’s phobia began 25 years ago “when she saw her mother jokily hit her father over the head with a newspaper.” The earliest example that I’ve so far found was in the Western Daily Press of Bristol in May 2013 but the source and etymology of the word are obscure. Greek chloe can refer to green things, especially grass and the first green shoots of spring (it’s a relative of chlōros, green, hence our chlorophyll and chlorine), but neither fits the context. This researcher retires, baffled.

Unpoetic From Vancouver, Ken Tough queried the use of verse among young people to mean “be in competition with” as in “what team are we versing tomorrow?” This has become widespread worldwide in the past decade or so. In origin it’s a typical childhood error: the preposition versus is heard as verses and then reasonably but incorrectly analysed as the third-person present tense of the verb verse. It’s far from new: the New York Times noticed it in 1984 as “high school slang meaning to compete against another school’s team” — but it only started to be commented on as a trend a decade or so ago. The evidence suggests that it was popularised through online gamers’ forums in the 1990s. It’s not clear how often it survives childhood to be used by adults, though there is evidence of this in Australia. The Macquarie Dictionary includes it and it can sometimes be found in print:

To get a game, even here in Australia, would be unbelievable. To be versing the likes of Sachin Tendulkar, Rahul Dravid — it’s going to be a massive challenge.
Sydney Morning Herald, 25 Nov 2011.

Death of a million cuts The rather morbid micromort is a unit of risk equivalent to a one-in-a-million chance of death. It was in the news recently through reports that a smartphone app is likely to come out later this year which will let you look up the risk level of an activity measured in micromorts. A British report in 2009 calculated that an average person experiences a micromort by driving 230 miles in a car, riding six miles on a motorbike, travelling 6,000 miles in a train or by taking three flights. The first use I can find is in a book of 1980, Societal Risk Assessment.

4. Give the mitten

Q From Michael Thomas: I was recently working an acrostic puzzle and came upon the clue, “to break up with a loved one”. The answer, which I had never run across, was give the mitten. Could you explain the history of this phrase, please?

A It’s new to me, too, Mr Thomas, as it probably is to readers, since it is now extremely rare. The meaning has often been the one you give (in the American Civil War, a soldier who received a Dear John letter was said to have been given the mitten) but it could also often mean that a woman had rejected a unwelcome admirer out of hand. It occasionally meant that a student had been expelled from college or a workman had got the sack.

It’s known to be at least 170 years old. It has sometimes been taken to be North American, as the examples that were written down first — in the 1840s — are from works by Thomas Chandler Haliburton of Nova Scotia, who had a keen ear for the vocabulary of his times. However, as it is also recorded in Britain and Canada during much of the nineteenth century, it is probably an older British idiom that emigrants had carried abroad. In support of this, at the end of the century, the English Dialect Dictionary noted it as a British regional or dialect expression in the form to send one a mitten, to reject somebody or to cast them off.

Mitten, for a glove with two sections, one for the thumb and the other for all four fingers, comes from the French mitaine. One French authority has argued this was transferred from the Old French and surviving regional term mite, a pet name for a cat. It’s assumed that the link is to the cat’s warm fur. (In modern French a mitaine is a fingerless glove, with moufle having taken over the mitten sense.)

The origin is alas, as so often, quite obscure.

Might it somehow be an inverted version of the old tradition that a man who rejected a proposal of marriage from a lady in a leap year had to give her a present of a pair of white gloves? Probably not.

Some speculate its origin lies in the Latin mitto, to dismiss, via mittimus (“we send”), which was a legal order that committed a person to prison. If we extend and blur the sense of mittimus to mean merely sending somebody away, it’s possible that it might have got wrapped up with mitten. But it’s a bit of a stretch.

The other explanation is about equally believable, by which I mean only possibly. It is said that there was a tradition in France by which a young lady who wished to decline a marriage proposal sent her suitor a pair of mittens. Could this have been a consolation prize for not getting her hand? Or might it have begun with some young man who was being sent away wailing the French equivalent of “Baby, it’s cold outside!” being dismissively supplied with mittens? It’s as good a story as any …

5. Sic!

• Stella McDowall spotted an understandable homophone in a headline in the Daily Mirror. It was over a story dated 20 January about what it called the “gentle succession” in the British monarchy: “Queen hands over the reigns to Prince Charles”.

• “This is wrong for so many reasons!” Kerry Walsh emailed about the description of a “Men’s Stainless Steel Cross Railroad Bracelet” he read on Amazon: “Although it has a similar appearance to metal, Stainless Steel is much thicker and will not tarnish.”

• David Becker submitted a headline from the issue of USA Today for 26 January: “Boar killed after wild beach run to feed poor”. Not the sad end to a mercy dash by a selfless animal, but the donation of the carcass of a wild pig that caused panic on a Florida beach to feed people in a homeless shelter.

• AOL News online on 28 January startled Steve Hirsch and Dan Welch with a brief item about execution by lethal injection: “Despite complaints from executed inmates, Oklahoma will not review its protocol.” It was quickly changed.

WORLD WIDE WORDS Issue 867 – WIF Style

World Wide Words Issue 866 – WIF Style

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Issue 866

Issue 866

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WORLD WIDE WORDS NEWSLETTER
Issue 866: Saturday 25 January 2014

 

Contents

 

1. Feedback, Notes and Comments.

2. Prolegomenon.

3. Wordface.

4. Snake oil.

5. Sic!

 

Rhine David Gow wrote about related words that I listed in the piece: “A connected word used in Scotland (and perhaps elsewhere?) is rone, meaning the horizontal metal guttering along the eaves of a house which carries rainwater from the roof to the downpipe. The Concise Scots Dictionary invites us to compare this with Norwegian run or ron, a watercourse. The Dictionary also gives rin meaning a stream, or course of a river, frequently with the lands bordering it. This ties in nicely with your examples. Isn’t it marvellous where words take you?” Stan Firth suggested that the word, at least in the Glasgow area, was applied to “the rainwater downpipes from the roof-gutter. Frequently, the name can be applied to the gutter, but usually only by laymen.” I’ll let Scots argue about its exact meaning.

And William Woodruff pointed out, “In some parts of the States, a creek or small (sometimes not so small) stream is called a run — most commonly in Virginia but also in Pennsylvania and Maryland and, less commonly, states further south; perhaps best known as the eponyms for Civil War battles, e.g. Bull Run.” The Oxford English Dictionary confirms that this usage, from English dialect, is related to rune in the sense of a watercourse or stream.

Ganderflanking Lee Rickard, clearly a movie buff, wrote, “There’s just something about that trochaic dimeter. I bet you could up its popularity by plugging it into inappropriate places. For example, ‘I’m ganderflanking tired of all these ganderflanking snakes on this ganderflanking plane!’” Moray Guise emailed, “Here in New Zealand, a number of my colleagues (Maori or pakeha) use a term of similar sense that I enjoy, tutuing, for fluffing around achieving little — almost like yak shaving. ‘While you’re tutuing about, I’ll just finish the job.’” I might instead speak of faffing about, though tutuing sounds like a distant relative of the Northern English expression big girl’s blouse.

Error Several readers noted that the surname of the famous Texan wheeler-dealer Clinton Williams Murchison was misspelled. This was a typo in the newspaper in which the quotation appeared and which I forgot to correct.

2. Prolegomenon/ˌprəʊlɛˈɡɒmᵻn(ə)n/

This is a posh word for an introduction, preface or foreword or, to counter ponderous Greek with obscure Latin, an exordium.

It’s the neuter of the present participle passive of the Greek prolegein, to say beforehand, and is much rarer than its relative prologue, which derives from Greek prôlogos, literally “fore-speech”. Both have travelled via Latin to reach us, but prologue has shuffled off its high-flown classical links while prolegomenon is condemned by its length and shape to be reserved for high-flown intellectual occasions and formal scholarship.

As prolegomenon to the systematic account of what I regard as the truth about the history of psychiatry presented in this book, I offer Roy Porter’s restatement of the premises that underlie my writings on this subject.
Coercion as Cure, by Thomas Szasz, 2007.

It may be a prologue to a book but it may also describe a work that introduces the study of a subject. A perusal of the dustier aisles of a large library may find article titles such as A Prolegomenon to the Reconceptualisation of Dialectic, A Prolegomenon to the Material Culture of Garments in the Formative Islamic Period and Prolegomenon for an Excuse-Centered Approach to Transitional Justice.

Should you ever need to discuss more than one prolegomenon, the plural is prolegomena, though this has also at times been used irregularly for the singular.

3. Wordface

GIF

 

Snapshots A word that’s been around for some time online but which I only recently spotted in print is gifable. This looks like a misspelling of giftable but it actually derives from the image format GIF (Graphics Interchange Format). Unlike other formats, GIFs can be animated and have long been used to create, for example, repetitive icons that illustrate an emotion. A film or television programme is said to be gifable if it’s possible to snatch a clip a few seconds long that encapsulates a memorable moment and turn it into a GIF. It still appears as GIF-able, though the hyphenless lower-case version is becoming common. People disagree about the pronunciation of GIF, but gifable is always said with a hard initial letter. It’s the source of giffing out, a term invented by Kmart for an annoying advertising campaign in the run-up to last year’s holiday season that included brief looped snatches of people going crazy over their purchases.

Fresh mint I’ve reported previously on abbreviations created by economists for groups of countries thought to have something in common. We’ve had PIGS for the four EU countries with the most severe economic problems (Portugal, Greece, Spain and either Ireland or Italy) and BRIC for what are now called newly advanced economic countries (Brazil, Russia, India and China), coined by the economist Jim O’Neill in 2001. A try in 2009 by Robert Ward of the Economist Intelligence Unit to popularise CIVETS (Colombia, Indonesia, Vietnam, Egypt, Turkey and South Africa, countries with diverse economies and a young, growing population) never caught on. Nor did EAGLES, “Emerging And Growth-Leading Economies” (Brazil, China, Egypt, India, Indonesia, South Korea, Mexico, Russia, Taiwan, and Turkey). This year, Jim O’Neill is arguing for MINT, a name created by the fund managers Fidelity, for what he thinks will be the second generation of emerging market pace-setters: Mexico, Indonesia, Nigeria and Turkey. He views them as geographically well situated with a youthful population so that over the next 20 years they will all see rises in the number of people eligible to work relative to those not working. Some of the MINT countries, he says, could match China’s recent double-digit growth rates.

4. Snake oil

Q From Sam Foreman, Pittsburgh: I think just about everyone knows that a snake oil salesman is a huckster trying to sell some product of dubious quality. I wonder where snake oil came from, given that it seems there could be many other descriptive metaphors applied, and if this witty term has an identifiable creator. I also wonder and whether it preceded the age of films or might have been a result of depictions in it.

A It’s worth recounting the history of the term snake oil in some detail since accounts available online and in many books don’t match the evidence in historical sources.

We may dismiss out of hand the assertion in several places that the name snake oil is a corruption of seneca oil. This was the name given to crude petroleum that seeped from the ground in Pennsylvania and New York State; it was sold for medicinal purposes under that name and as Indian spring oil.

Snake oil actually derives from the folk belief in North America, recorded from the start of the nineteenth century but presumably older, that rattlesnake oil was a remedy for problems such as rheumatism and croup. This is an early mention:

There is one article more, which, as some people deem it a specific in the croup, it may not be improper to mention, which is … rattle-snake’s oil, as it is called.
A Dissertation on Cynanche Trachealis, or Croup, by Abraham Haskell, read before the annual meeting of the Massachusetts Medical Society, 1812. Dr Haskell goes on to mention its extremely fishy and nauseous taste.

Similar beliefs have been widespread, but especially in traditional Chinese medicine, in which oil from the Chinese sea snake (Laticauda semifasciata) is used to treat arthritis and other joint pains. Some writers say that snake oil and beliefs about its value were brought to the US from the late 1840s by the Chinese immigrants who helped build its railways, though the evidence is clear that Americans had much earlier been using rattlesnake oil for similar purposes. Others hold that the beliefs derive from the practices of native Americans that were borrowed by immigrant settlers. They may be also be linked to an earlier belief in Britain that preparations based on our only venomous snake, such as viper oil, viper wine and viper jelly, would cure various ills.

Chinese sea snake oil has recently been found to contain high levels of omega-3 fatty acids, which can reduce inflammation, among other benefits. However, rattlesnake oil doesn’t contain them and its value would never have been much better than a placebo.

Advertisements in US newspapers from the 1840s offer rattlesnake oil for sale but editorial references are rare before the 1880s. Some from that decade lament the decline in production of snake oil as a rural craft, a small-scale seasonal occupation among countrymen, in the north Pennsylvania mountains and the Ozarks in particular. Hunters would go out in the early autumn to catch snakes and “try” them — boil them to extract the oil, as whalers did with blubber — or behead them and hang them in the sun to drain. Later reports imply the craft was being industrialised, at least to some small extent, with snake farms being set up to breed them and sell them on to businesses that extracted and sold the oil. Though the snake oil remedy was useless, these reports suggest that it was a legitimate trade that provided the genuine article to customers who retained their belief in it.

Some people still hold to curious old superstitions concerning the curative properties of the oils of certain animals; and to hear the druggists tell of the strange articles called for by some of their customers is to be reminded of the vagaries indulged in by the aboriginal medicine man in his native wigwam. For instance, there are persons who pin great faith still to the virtues of rattlesnake oil, and who believe it is a specific for rheumatic afflictions.
Daily Globe (St Paul, Minnesota), 7 Jun. 1882.

This belief provided an opening to hucksters selling products that had never been near a snake. Some replaced rattlesnake oil with oil from creatures such as raccoon, woodchuck, skunk or bear. Others concocted a product from whatever was serviceable and cheap with no concern for any medical effects, good or bad.

This is an early description of an itinerant mountebank of this type, one who later became a cliché in westerns:

The scoff and jeer of the multitude turn from him as water from the shining back of a duck. He always comes up on top, beaming his perpetual smile, and asks who will have the next bottle of ready-relief, pain-killer or rattle-snake oil. The facility and rapidity of his speech is phenomenal, and his fund of Billingsgate inexhaustible. … [T]he traveling quack … may be of some use in the world, but like that of the fly and mosquito it is not easy to say just in what it consists. Apparently his success is based upon his enormous development of cheek, in connection with that fixed element in human nature, gullibility.
Hagerstown Herald and Torch Light (Maryland), 14 Jul. 1880. Billingsgate refers to the London fish market, whose porters were renowned for their invective and bad language.

A development was the travelling medicine show, in which a variety of entertainments sugared the hard sell of the proprietor’s nostrums for curing every kind of ailment. They became common enough to be unremarkable by the late nineteenth century and continued well into the twentieth despite attempts to outlaw them. From the 1890s, their rise was matched by the growth of print advertisements for what were mistakenly called patent medicines: none were ever really patented, because their makers would have had to list their ingredients. There was a huge variety, those touted as snake oil being a significant minority, but ones with seemingly miraculous powers.

An advertisement of 1891 urged readers to “Try one of Dr. Miles Rattle’s Snake Oil Pain Cure Plasters, the most powerful remedy for external application”. Another in Portland in 1903 stated that the Great Yaquis Snake Oil Liniment “relieves instantaneously and cures headaches, neuralgia, toothache, earache, backache, swellings, sprains, sore chest, swelling of the throat, contracted cords and muscles, stiff joints, wrenches, dislocations, cuts and bruises.” The proprietor of Dr Reese’s Snake Oil Liniment in later years was much more succinct, claiming simply that it would “cure any pain, external or internal”. Another for Miller’s Antiseptic Oil in 1918, also known as Snake Oil, argued that “Snake Oil is a mighty fine thing to have sitting around the house. For colds and pains in the chest, neuralgia, sore throat, cuts, burns, bruises, corns and bunions and pains of all kinds, Snake Oil is a Godsend.”

We can’t say now whether any these products actually contained any rattlesnake oil. Most surely didn’t. One denunciator wrote of

the damnable curse of street fakirs, charlatans, and patent-medicine venders [who] reap dollars from the sale of snake oil, made of rot-gut whisky, a little ammonia and tincture of iron.
The Western Druggist, Jul. 1895. Vender is an old spelling of vendor. It may be relevant that snake oil at about this time came to have a slang sense of low-grade whisky.

One notable example — Clark Stanley’s Snake Oil — was analysed in 1915 and in the analyst’s words was found to consist “principally of a light mineral oil (petroleum product) mixed with about 1 per cent of fatty oil (probably beef fat), capsicum, and possibly a trace of camphor and turpentine.”

It was findings like this following the Pure Food and Drug Act of 1906 that led to the term snake oil appearing in print in the 1920s as a symbol of fraud, although it had been understood for decades by informed people that any hawker of something so called was almost certainly a quack and his product a swindle.

The now-common term snake oil salesman was a little slower to appear: the first recorded use I can find is dated 1933.

5. Sic!

• Rob Crompton found a sentence on the BBC website on 18 January about Bristolian Lewis Clarke’s attempt to become the youngest person to reach the South Pole: “The challenge began on 2 December, two weeks after his 16th birthday, and he is expected to reach the finish line later.” He commented that extreme cold slows a lot of things but time just carries on.

• An AP report of 17 January about Vatican actions against paedophile priests was seen by Judith Reich and Stephen Brown. It read “Bishops routinely moved problem priests from parish to parish rather than subject them to canonical trials or turn them into police.” Stephen Brown commented, “I imagine the police were relieved.”

• Patrick Martin reports from Winchester: “The locals have been making much sport with the sign in the window of a restaurant and take-away that is shortly to open: ‘kebabs, burgers, vegetarians, barbeque’. Notices have been added that include ‘only uses ethically sourced vegetarians’.”

 

World Wide Words – WIF Style

Snake Oil and other Hucksters

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Chapter Twelve

CARELESS WHISPERS

‘What am I doing in Boston in January.’ asks Dr. A.O Campbell
of himself, not particularly waiting for an answer. Had he bothered
to respond aloud, he would have said: I’m back at my Alma mater,
Boston’s – College of Physicians and Surgeons for a symposium on
the Spanish influenza and related infectious virus and bacteria, or
something thereabouts, likely less formal.

It is the first time he has returned to the school since graduating
in 1913. Every five years or so, doctors are required to demonstrate
that they are staying current, in a field that is progressing as fast
as any sector of post war America. There was a time when, thirty
or more years ago, when medicine was less technical and more
speculative, with certain practicing doctors graduates of dubious
institutions. Snake oils and herbs were used to treat diseases and
illnesses with nondescript names like, consumption and the rickets.
Anesthesia consisted of either biting down hard on a rag or a bottle
of whiskey.

So in the interest of science, young Dr. Campbell, about to
celebrate his thirtieth birthday, chugs up the East coast, which sports a
blanket of fresh white snow from about Washington north. Floridians
are not used to this kind of cold, never seeming to be prepared for
these type conditions, even a doctor who should have better sense;
his teeth will chatter until he is able to purchase something more
substantial than a summer suit of clothes.

____242 Gwendolyn Hoff

It was not the most exciting three days he will spend in 1919, but
it was nice to stroll around the granite buildings again. As discussions
go among physicians, this gathering is useful, as well as fruitful.
There are ideas to be exchanged and the experiences in the field to
be related. Doctor A.O. Campbell had as much experience on the
front line as anyone there, but the entire group is still shaken by the
epidemic, having fought the same disease tooth and nail, from every
conceivable angle. A good doctor will learn every day of his or her
career. That is what makes a good doctor.

But three days at university is enough and since he was in the
neighborhood, A.O. had suggested, sort of invited himself, to visit his
older brother, Hosea in Atlantic City. “My place ain’t much to look
at, Alfrey, saw the picture of your digs, not bad.”

Atlantic City 1920

“That  matter, Hosey, I told mama that I’d see you. It
would make her feel better. She blames herself for you runnin’ off to
Jersey.” Amanda Campbell will die without having seen her 38 year
old son again.

“Okay, Alfrey, I live on Melrose Avenue, ask anyone fo me, they
knows where I’m at.”

“Some time around of A.O.’s graduation, the Boston – College of Physicians and Surgeons was absorbed by Tufts University. I wrote most of this book before the advent of the Internet.”

Gwenny

Snake Oil and other Hucksters