They are superstitious to a greater degree than the pure Arab, who, to my thinking, is less so than most other illiterate people, and it would be an interesting study to sift the superstitions which date back to the Pantheism of the early Egyptians from those which have been imported since the Mohammedan invasion.
They seem to credit every foreigner who lives amongst them with a certain amount of medical knowledge, and when their own treatment will have failed in its object, any European living amongst them may expect a visit from the sufferer. A supply of Epsom salts and a solution of boracic acid, left in my hut by the last tenants, did duty for most internal and external complaints which were brought to me during my first season; and these remedies, largely assisted by the antiseptic air of the desert, soon established my reputation as a hakeem. The remedies being gratis, and a bottle thrown in, it is possible that the bottle may have attracted some of my patients. There is a well-appointed hospital at Luxor to which I vainly tried to persuade many to apply. Wild stories of imaginary horrors practised there, and the usual fear that some means would be used to extract money from them, prevents many an excellent hospital from being the blessing it should be.
A painful case that was brought to my notice decided me to augment not only my medical stores, but also to gain some elementary knowledge as to first-aid treatment. In early November scorpions are still active, and are not hibernating, as they do while the tourist’s season is on, and only those who live here in the hot season have any idea what a pest scorpions can be. The case in point was that of a little girl who had been stung, and the father hurried round to my hut to ask me for a remedy. The only treatment I had then heard of was to take alcohol in sufficient quantities to counteract the poison of the scorpion. As the child was only eleven years old, I put more water than whisky in the bottle, and told the man to give his girl a teaspoonful about every half-hour, and to be careful to keep the wound clean. I saw the man the next day, and he told me that the child was well again; how far he had applied the whisky solution I could not tell. A suspicion crossed my mind that he had probably drunk the whisky, and possibly rubbed the wound with the empty bottle. The child, however, being well, I thought no more about it till I again met the man, a week or so later. I playfully remarked that I hoped no more whisky might be required for scorpion stings, and received the startling answer that the child was dead. The man took his loss in the resigned fatalistic manner of most Mohammedans. ‘It was the will of Allah, and we must accept that as all for the best.’
I sent a letter the next day to the dispensary which is attached to the American mission, and begged the man in charge of it to supply me with any known remedies for the sting of the scorpion, and also to kindly write out how the remedies should be applied. My servant brought back two preparations of ammonia, some lint, and detailed instructions how to use them. There was no mention of alcohol, so I trusted that my suspicions as to who had swallowed my whisky had been well founded.
As we got into December, we heard and saw little of scorpions, and, during the season of hibernation, I forgot about these creatures as well as about the remedies, till a very rude reminder of their existence brought one and the other back to me.
While lifting up some stones in the Ramesseum so as to arrange a level place to stand my sketching-stool, I put my hand inadvertently on a sleeping scorpion. He was soon awake, and the sting I got in my hand caused the most acute physical pain I can ever remember. I was a mile away from my hut and the remedies; but remembering the first instructions, I endeavoured to tie my handkerchief tightly round my wrist, so as to stop the poison, which I felt shooting up my arm. I could not manage this with one hand, and had to call in the assistance of two American ladies who happened to be viewing the temple. When one kindly tied the handkerchief as tight as I could stand, the shooting pains up my arm lessened, and the poison then worked its way to my finger-tips. My good Samaritan tried to induce me to mount her ass and ride into Luxor to see a doctor. This and the crossing of the Nile would have taken me over an hour, and the pain in my finger-tips became too acute to make an hour of it even thinkable. Besides which, I was keen on trying my new remedies.
The treatment which my missionary friend had written out worked very well; the application of ammonia to the wound, and the drops taken internally, soon had some effect, and Ebers’s Bride of the Nile, which I was reading, and on which I tried hard to concentrate my thoughts, probably did some good also. A native acquaintance called to suggest a cure. I was to repeat certain words accompanied by some signs, and I know not what else, for I was not in the mood to take his instructions in. Not wishing, however, to throw cold water on his good intentions, I told him that, good as his remedy might be, I was afraid that it might act counter to the one I was trying. The cabalistic words and signs might not agree with the ammonia treatment prescribed by one who had no belief in these words, and my friend admitted that he had never thought of that. I also pretended to fall asleep, and succeeded thereby in ridding myself of my well-intentioned visitor.
A peculiar stiffness hung about my finger-joints for nearly a week and then left me; it was my left hand, so it did not interfere with my work. One detail I had omitted may be well to mention, in case a reader be similarly circumstanced, and that is, when using some sharp instrument to open the puncture so as to squeeze out as much poison as possible, be sure to disinfect this instrument properly. I imagined a good wipe of the hypodermic syringe I used for the purpose would be a sufficient precaution; but a sore place which took some time to heal has taught me in future either to dip the instrument into carbolic acid, or, failing that, to heat it in the flame of a candle before trying any surgical operations with it.
No patients from scorpion stings applied to me again, for the death of the poor little girl may have been put to my charge. As an eye doctor I was in great request. Dirt being the chief cause of the complaints, a wash with the boracic solution did no harm, and generally did some good. Some brought blind people to my hut—rather a lot to expect from a little boracic acid! Some cases were probably only cataract, and quite curable; but say what I would, I could not persuade these people to go to the Luxor hospital.
Since then I hear that a member of the Khedivial family has devoted a large sum of money to send properly equipped medical men to the villages to see how far they can cope with the various eye maladies. A wiser and better charity it is hard to conceive. Had my patients dwelt in the towns or on the cultivated land, my cures might have been few and far between. The pure desert air had much to do with my healings.