THE RIO GRANDE RESERVOIR
“The malaria sick rate for 1906, if continued to 1911, would give, on the basis of the number of employees in 1911, about 40,000 cases of malaria sick in the hospitals for the year, or a loss in labor of about 200,000 days of work. The total number of employees sick in hospitals with malaria in 1911 was 8946—or a loss of 44,730 days of work. A gain of about 155,000 days was, therefore, made. Placing the loss to the Government for each day’s labor, plus treatment, at the rather low figure of $3 per man, the gain in this one item of saving more than offset the cost of sanitation proper. These figures do not include malarial cases treated in the dispensaries and in homes. Among this class of patients the gain has undoubtedly been proportionate to the gain in hospital cases, and in addition it must not be forgotten that malaria is a disease that undermines a man’s health insidiously and lowers his working efficiency to an extent not approached by any disease with the possible exception of hook-worm. The less malaria the fewer inefficient workers in an organization”.
IN PICTURESQUE TABOGA
Of course the screening system was vital to any successful effort to control and check the transmission of fever germs by insects. But the early struggles of Col. Gorgas to get enough wire netting to properly protect the labor quarters were pathetic. “Why doesn’t he screen in the whole Isthmus and let it go at that”? inquired one Congressman who thought it was all intended to put a few more frills on houses for already highly paid workers. The screening has indeed cost a pretty penny for only the best copper wire will stand the test of the climate. At first there was reluctance on the part of disbursing officers to meet the heavy requirements of Col. Gorgas. But the yellow-fever epidemic of 1905 stopped all that. Thereafter the screening was regarded as much of an integral part of a house as its shingling.
The efforts that were put forth to make the Canal Zone a liveable spot have not been relaxed in keeping it so. A glance at the report of the Chief Sanitary Officer for any year shows something of his continued activity. You find records of houses fumigated for beriberi, diphtheria, malaria, leprosy, and a dozen other evils. The number of rats killed is gravely enumerated—during the year 1911 for example there were nearly 13,000. It may be noted in passing that the rats distribute fleas and fleas carry the germs of the bubonic plague, hence the slaughter. Incidentally guests of the native hotels in Panama City say that the destruction was far from complete.
IN THE GROUNDS OF ANCON HOSPITAL
Two large hospitals are maintained by the Canal Commission at Colon and at Ancon, together with smaller ones for emergency cases at Culebra and other points along the line. The two principal hospitals will be kept open after the completion of the Canal, but not of course to their full capacity. Ancon alone has accommodations for more than 1500 patients, and when the army of labor has left the Zone there can be no possible demand for so great an infirmary. Both of these hospitals were inherited from the French, and the one at Colon has been left much in the condition they delivered it in, save for needed repairs and alterations. Its capacity has not been materially increased. The Ancon Hospital however has become one of the great institutions of its kind in the world. The French gave us a few buildings with over 300 patients sheltered in tents. The Americans developed this place until now more than fifty buildings are ranged along the side of Ancon Hill. When the French first established the hospital they installed as nurses a number of sisters of St. Vincent with Sister Rouleau as Sister Superior. The gentle sisters soon died. The yellow fever carried them off with heart-rending rapidity. Sister Marie however left a monument which will keep her fair fame alive for many years yet to come. She was a great lover of plants, and the luxuriance of the tropical foliage was to her a never-ending charm. To her early efforts is due the beauty of the grounds of the Ancon Hospital, where one looks between the stately trunks of the fronded royal palms past a hillside blazing with hibiscus, and cooled with the rustling of leaves of feather palms and plantains to where the blue Pacific lies smooth beneath the glowing tropic sun. Beside the beauty of its surroundings the hospital is eminently practical in its plan. The many separate buildings permit the segregation of cases, and the most complete and scientific ventilation.