SURGERY ON THE KITCHEN TABLE

                      To live is to suffer -  Anonymous

In 1907, when Jenny’s Dad, Warren, was 14, he awoke before dawn in the big barn where he and his four brothers slept and he felt a terrible pain all across his abdomen that made him double up and moan. His eyes burned and his head felt hot, but he shivered with chills as he staggered to the house some distance away where his parents, his baby brother and his three sisters were sleeping. He went to the Murphy bed in the living room where his parents and baby brother slept and awakened his Mother, Lettie.

“I bet you have the bellyache from something you ate, or it may just be one of those things that is going around every summer. Now you tiptoe into the bedroom and get a pillow and a blanket from the closet. Don’t wake up the girls. Put your blanket and pillow down here on the floor by our bed and try to go back to sleep.”

Warren did what he was told to do, but sleep would not come, and he tossed and turned and groaned softly in agony. In the morning, after he had vomited 4 times and felt no relief from the pain, which grew even worse, Lettie knew it was something serious.

She said to her husband, “Will, this boy is sick. We have to do something. We’ll have to call Dr. Cameron.”

He was the country doctor who lived a few miles down the road and had delivered five of her remaining nine children. She trusted him and thought he would know what to do.

Will roused the oldest son, Wilmer, saying, “Warren is very sick. You are to get on Buck and ride to fetch Dr. Cameron. Now hurry up!”

They got the fastest riding horse saddled and raced to Dr. Cameron’s where he found him already in his buggy, just ready to go on his morning rounds. When Wilmer told him about Warren, Dr. Cameron nodded his head and sped to the Barnes farm and was there in a matter of minutes. Wilmer tied Dr. Cameron’s horse to the hitching post near the house and rewarded Buck with some hay.

When Dr. Cameron saw Warren, he first took his temperature with his fever thermometer, felt his
abdomen and had him stand on his toes. He said it was appendicitis and that Warren had to have an operation as soon as possible. Lettie and Will were alarmed. There was only one surgeon in town and most of his patients did not leave the hospital alive.

As if reading their minds, Dr. Cameron said, “We won’t have our local sawbones quack do it. I know a very good surgeon up in Nebraska, and I will arrange for him to come.”

Dr. Cameron sent Dr. Shipley a telegram to emphasize the urgency of the situation and Dr. Shipley wired back that he would be there day after tomorrow to perform the surgery, if Warren were still sick, or still alive, whichever came first. Dr. Shipley always insisted on observing meticulous antiseptic procedures and Dr. Cameron knew what he expected to have done. The entire house would need to be cleaned and scrubbed from top to bottom with an antiseptic solution. They should take down all the curtains and shades right away and start the cleaning. A trained nurse would be brought out from town to bring the antiseptic solution and to supervise the cleaning and to prepare Warren for the surgery.

Dr. Cameron arrived early next morning with Nurse Wilson, a severe woman with hair pulled back in a tight bun, who must have been in her early thirties. She wore a starched white nurse’s uniform and cap. They helped carry in her suitcases full of boiled white sheets and bedding, more clean uniforms for herself, and the cleaning supplies. She issued rubber gloves to Lettie and scrub brushes and a stack of clean white cloths. She said she should get someone to help her. Lettie decided that her oldest daughter, Alice, a strapping 17-year old should help. They were to wear clean house dresses and she instructed them go over every inch of the kitchen with the antiseptic solution and to take special care with the kitchen table, as this was to be the operating table. The younger children in the family were sent to stay with relatives a short distance away and the older boys helped Will with the farm tasks.

A neighbor woman, Opal Thomas, who had been saved that summer at a revival meeting, knocked at the door while Lettie and Alice were in the midst of the cleaning. She asked if she could talk to Warren and pray with him.

“I’ll not have anyone upsetting that dear boy. Our family will do it’s own praying, thank you.”

She closed the door firmly and the miffed Opal stomped away in a huff.

Nurse Wilson instructed Lettie and Alice to clean the tiny bedroom the same way and then to clean the living room while she took Warren into the bedroom and closed the door and prepared him for surgery. She bathed him from top to bottom and shaved the hair on his belly and his pubic hair. He was too consumed with pain to mind or be embarrassed by these necessary preparations. When the living room was cleaned and aired, Warren was placed on the Murphy bed and Nurse Wilson set up a small cot a few feet away where she would sleep. Warren was allowed sips of water until midnight, but none after that until after the surgery.

Dr. Shipley’s horse and buggy pulled into the yard early the next morning. He had taken a train from Nebraska the night before and had stayed at the town’s hotel. He had hired a horse and buggy and driver at the livery table to take himself and his surgical nurse and their equipment out to the farm. He was a small brusque man. He and the nurse brought in metal cases of instruments and equipment and bright lamps. He issued orders to the two nurses to prepare the operating room and he scrubbed his hands and arms with special soap and donned a white surgical gown and cap and mask as did the two nurses. Warren was carried carefully to the operating room and lifted to the sheet swathed kitchen table. A mask was placed on his face and the doctor administered ether and asked him to count to ten. Warren began the count while the room hummed and faded away. When he was sufficiently under, the surgery began. The smell of the ether permeated the little house. The younger children, blissfully unaware of the seriousness of the station, played happily at the relatives with their many cousins, but the parents and more mature members of the family, waited anxiously outside the house, some of them sneaking a peak through the window now and then.

Finally Dr. Shipley opened the kitchen door, stepped outside and said the surgery had gone well, that he had removed the bad appendix and would now like a strong pot of tea.

Warren was tenderly carried back to the Murphy bed. When he awoke, he couldn’t believe the surgery was over and he began vomiting violently from the anaesthetic. Nurse Wilson had a basin ready for him and placed her hand on his head. When he had vomited many times and his right side began throbbing, she let him have water to rinse out his mouth but said he must not swallow any of it, and wiped alcohol on his arm with a wad of cotton and gave him a shot of morphine with a needle. She said this would help him sleep and take away the pain. He fell into a fitful sleep troubled by dark dreams. When he awoke and hoarsely called for water,. Nurse Wilson was right by his side with a cup and a teaspoon She said he could now have small sips of water from the spoon. Dr. Shipley looked in on him, felt his incision, and said he’d be going back to town, but would see him next day.

The next morning he brought Dr. Cameron with him and said he would leave him in charge now. He had given him instructions about what he wanted him to do. He took one more look at Warren and asked him how he was feeling. Warren managed a weak smile. Lettie and Will asked Dr. Shipley what they owed him. He looked steadily at Dr. Cameron and said “Twenty five dollars.“ They knew that such an operation usually cost over a hundred dollars. They had asked others. Will brought out two tens and a five from his lock box and handed it to him and said, “Are you absolutely certain this is enough? We can get some more, you know.”

Dr. Shipley said tersely, “That’s what I said. Twenty five. Now, don’t argue with me.”

Without another word, he got into the buggy and they drove away. Will and Lettie suspected that Dr. Cameron had paid the rest out of his own pocket.

Warren spent several more dream filled days. Dr. Cameron stopped by every morning until he was well on his feet. On the fourth day after the surgery, Nurse Wilson told Lettie to stew a chicken and not put any seasonings in the water except a bit of salt. She gave Warren small sips of the broth, increasing each time. Gradually he grew stronger and was allowed to sit up in bed. Gradually normal family activity resumed. There was fresh watermelon from the garden. He was given a slice , but had to spit out the pulp and of course the seeds. He had to stay in bed for 6 weeks. Nurse Warren stayed through all 6 weeks. She was his ministering angel and he was in love with her.

One night, while Warren was still convalescing, a thunderstorm came up. There was a deafening crack as a a sharp bolt of lightning struck the barn where the other four boys were sleeping. The dry hay caught fire, but all the boys got out in time. The barn burned to the ground. Warren awoke and wondered why the sky was so bright. Nurse Wilson carried him to the window so he could watch the burning barn. After the other four boys told about the bolt of lightning, he felt disappointed that he had missed the excitement.

The barn had to be rebuilt and another fine structure was put in its place. Impressive looking lightning rods were put atop the peak of the roof. The barn was much nicer than the little brown three room house. The younger children made playhouses in some of the barn’s rooms where the newly cut boards gave off a wonderful scent. Will bought many buckets of the best outdoor barn paint, but he never got around to getting it painted and the buckets sat in the barn for 40 years and the paint became dry and lumpy.

Warren emerged from convalescence looking pale and thin, but soon regained his exuberant spirit , and now that the pain was over and he felt well again, he was sure that he had had a fine experience.