Harrowsmith Fall 2019 | 49ABOUT A WHOLE BUNCH OF STUFFbad infection and quickly turned
to gangrene. She suffered untold
agonies, trying to get around
to do her daily chores. The son
didn’t do the milking and they
had several milk cows. There
was a very young doctor in
Coldwater who was finally called
in, and he, in turn, called a doctor
in Orillia. Together, they decided
to amputate my aunt’s leg just
below the knee. They knew of a
trained nurse they might get
from Toronto.
The kitchen table was well
scrubbed, and a coal oil lamp that
they hung from the ceiling helped.
The instruments were sterilized
on the wood range in the same
room. I am not absolutely certain
if the patient was prepared by the
nurse because I was young at the
time. My mother told me (and, as
often is the case, the young don’t
pay much attention to details)
that laudanum would be used as
an anaesthetic. I know that back
then, many operations involved
a big dose of Scotch whisky, as it
was supposed to help the patient
bear the pain.
My aunt came from Scotland
when she was a young girl, and I
imagine she was really brave. She
was given two choices: have her
leg sawed off and live, or lose her
life with gangrene. My mother
said it scared her so much to
see a man sharpening this
handsaw. I don’t know how long
the operation lasted or how they
controlled the bleeding. Of course,
there was no hospital either. The
two doctors and the nurse stayed
with her many hours after. They
didn’t expect her to live, but she
was made of good stuff and she
gave the nurse all the credit for
her recovery.
The nurse’s name was Miss
Lowe, but she was certainly not
low in my aunt’s estimation.
She was at the top of the list!
She looked after Aunt Annie for
months. I don’t know what trained
nurses were paid then, but money
had to be borrowed and there was
no money around for the artificial
limb. Aunt Annie was not to be
outdone! She had a comfortable
cushion on a fairly light kitchen
chair. She put her knee on the
chair, then lifted the chair a bit
at a time and so on. She got the
meals for herself and her son,
did the dishes, kept the fire going
in the cook stove in winter...and
lived to 86 years old. I remember
seeing little grooves in the
wooden floor, where the chair
had been pushed around.
I guess “where there is a will,
there is a way.”