A physician trained in thought is sure to thresh out in his mind while on the road, during the day or night, many knotty problems in the isms, ologies and pathies of medical practice; and when serious sickness claims his attention, and is pressing for his best endeavors, he will search all the treasure houses of his memory for everything that he has ever read or heard of in relation to similar cases. Often the time was wearisome, roads were long, and waiting for pay for services was long, and all this longness tended to make a shortness of the pocket-book.
When in the midst of weary night vigils, or when nearly worn out and exhausted by loss of sleep, or when chilled to the bone by cold and exposure, I have thought that if ever any one was justified in taking a stimulant to "brace up," it is the overworked physician. While I never took any kind of stimulant or narcotic, I have felt like making some allowance for the hard driven doctor who occasionally took something to brace him up and deaden his sensibility to cold and fatigue.
One of the worst combinations a doctor had to meet was a deep snow, dense fog and unbroken roads. If added to this there was intense cold, the trip was to be dreaded. One would be about as well off in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, without a compass, as in such a snow and fog. Whether one looked up, down or any other direction, the appearance was all the same—it was one blank, impenetrable, misty-white. If a man turned around and once missed his bearings, he was lost indeed. There were instances, those days, where persons were caught out in the darkness and wandered around all night on a forty-acre tract, utterly bewildered. One who has been lost in one of those foggy snows will never forget his sensations and feelings.
Time has wrought many changes since the days of the early settlement of the country. Places that were reached only with the greatest difficulty and sometimes with peril, we now drive up to on smooth roads of easy grades. Where we could scarcely get to a cabin on horseback, one now drives up with ease in an automobile to a beautiful modern home.
Where it used to take many hours or a whole day to make a visit, the same distance can now be made in an hour or even in minutes. The telephone, good roads, automobiles and new discoveries and advances in medical science, surgery and pharmacy, have revolutionized medical practice.
Riding out today, over on Snake River, out in the Deadman country, up on the Pataha Prairie, up to Peola or the Blue Mountains, over on the Tucanon or toward Lewiston or Dayton, one still sees here and there the reminders of "old times" and "old timers." Here are the relics of old cabins, where the pioneers first had their homes.
Memory goes back to a desperate case of typhoid fever here, or of pneumonia or other disease over there. There come up memory pictures of scenes of anxiety, suffering and suspense and then of recovery, or possibly death.
Over yonder stood the home of an early pioneer. In that house was born a son or daughter that today is leading in business and society; the father and mother are sleeping in one of the cemeteries of the county. A few are still lingering, old and feeble, waiting for the final summons. Back in the mountains, where today we go gliding along in automobiles on summer outings, there are still seen the fading sites of the sawmills, pole and shingle mills that were operated there in early days. These remind me of broken legs and arms, of wounds and accidents, and of serious sickness that happened between thirty and forty years ago. The places where the old mills stood are marked by little clearings now overgrown with weeds and brush, with here and there a few slabs, dim in piles of sawdust, and scattering stumps. The old mills are gone and the people who owned and ran them have died or left the country.
As I write these hasty reminiscences, I wonder if thirty-five or forty years from now will bring as many changes to this country as the same length of time in the past.
What wonderful improvements the science of medicine the past forty years have brought! What additions to our knowledge of the cause of disease, of disease germs and how to combat them, of serums, opsonins, vaccines and of physiological chemistry! What advances have been made in the knowledge of antiseptics and preventative medicine, and what great strides in surgery and the treatment of wounds! What a vast field has been opened up in the study of internal secretions of the ductless glands and their relation to the well-being of the human physical system.