MY JOURNEYMANSHIP IN MEDICINE.
Journeymen in medicine, though without the full responsibilities of the
profession, have yet their difficulties. I had mine; and I had not only
the ordinary complement of ordinary men, but some which were a little
extra.
For example, I was no horseman at all, and people around me knew it. At
the first attempt to mount a new horse, and ride out with the old
physician, of whom I had purchased my stand, to see his patients, I made
an exhibition of my horsemanship which I shall not soon forget, and
which I am sure certain wags and half-buffoons and common loungers who
witnessed the scene _never_ will.
My horse stood at the post all caparisoned, while I made ready. In
setting off, I knew well I must submit to the ordeal of being gazed at
and commented on by a crowd assembled in an adjoining store. It was a
rainy day, and the crowd would doubtless be much larger than usual. Now
my love of approbation was excessive; so great as at times to defeat
entirely its object. So in truth, it proved on the present occasion.
When I was ready to go forth on my journey, I mounted my horse and
attempted to place my right foot in the stirrup. At this critical
instant the gaping multitude in the grocery, presented themselves in
quite a formidable column at the door to see the young doctor on his new
horse. Their appearance threw my mind off its balance to an extent that
prevented me from well-balancing my body, and with every possible
exertion I could not get my feet firmly fixed in the stirrups. To add to
my trouble, my horse was in haste and trotted off high and hard before I
could muster presence of mind enough to check him. I rolled this way and
that, till at length, down I came headlong. My hat went one way, and my
whip another. A great shout was at once raised by the spectators, but
being cured by this time, of my excessive diffidence, and not at all
hurt, I could soon join in the laugh with the rest. I could most
heartily adopt my old maxim, "It is an ill wind that blows nobody any
good;" and I had learned by my fall at least, one thing, at least for
the moment; viz., my excessive regard to human approbation.
Thenceforward, I rode as I pleased.
But before I enter upon the details and particular confessions of my
professional career, it is needful that I should say something of those
changes which were made about this time in my physical habits, by means
of which I gained at least a temporary victory over my great enemy, the
consumption. For it must not be supposed that because I could sit on a
horse and ride six, eight, ten, or twelve miles a day, or work in the
field or garden half the day, I was out of danger. I had, indeed, gained
important victories, but there remained very much land yet to be
possessed.
Of my abandonment of all medicine, I have already told you. But I had
also greatly changed my dietetic habits. During my excursion of the
fifth of July, and subsequently, I had lived almost wholly on what might
have been denominated the starvation system. The case was this: I
started with less than five dollars in my pocket, and with too much
pride to borrow more. That my money might hold out, therefore, though I
took care to secure a good, clean bed by nights, even at the full market
price (except when I was entertained occasionally, by particular
friends), I almost went without food. Many a time was I satisfied,
because I was determined to have it so, with a tumbler of milk and a
couple of crackers for my breakfast, or even my dinner; and as for
supper, I often dispensed with it wholly; and all this too, strange
though it may seem, not only without the loss of strength, but with a
slow, yet steady, increase.
These dietetic changes, though they were a necessity, were continued and
extended from principle. I had known, for a long time, what the laws of
digestion, respiration, circulation, cleanliness, exercise, etc., were,
but had not fully obeyed them. But I now set myself obeying them up to
the full extent of my knowledge. I do not mean to affirm that my
obedience was perfect and entire--wanting in nothing; but only that I
made an attempt at sinless perfection. However, I speak here, of course,
of the physical code; for to moral obligation, at that time, I do not
mean, now, to refer.
My diet was exceedingly plain and comparatively unstimulating. It
consisted chiefly of bread, fruits, potatoes; and, once a day of salted
meats. These last should have been exchanged for those which were not
pickled, and which are of course less stimulating; but at that time I
was not fully aware of their tone and tendency. My drink was water and a
little tea; for cider I had long before abandoned.
I paid particular attention to purity of air, and to temperance.
Fortunately I resided in a house which from age and decrepitude, pretty
effectually ventilated itself. But temperature, as I well knew, must be
carefully attended to, particularly by consumptive people. While they
avoid permanent chilliness, and even at times, the inhalation of very
cold air on the one hand, it is quite indispensable that they should
breathe habitually as cool an air as possible, and yet not be
permanently chilly. This, by means of a proper dress, by night and by
day, and proper fixtures for heating my room, I contrived to secure.
Cleanliness, too, by dint of frequent bathing, received its full share
of my attention. It was a rule from which I seldom if ever departed, to
wet my body daily with cold water, and follow it up by friction. At home
or abroad, wherever I could get a bowl of water I would have a hand
bath.
Need I say here that a medical man--one who rode daily on
horseback--paid a proper regard to the laws of exercise? And yet I am
well persuaded that not a few medical men exercise far too little.
Riding on horseback, though it may sometimes shake off consumption, is
not so good an exercise for the mass of mankind--perhaps not even for
consumptive people themselves--as an alternation of walking with the
riding. This, also, I took good care to secure.
Physicians are usually either very greatly addicted to the habit of
dosing and drugging for every little ill, real or imaginary, or
particularly hostile to it. I have seldom found any such thing as a
golden mean in this respect, among them. My feelings, saying nothing at
present of the sober convictions of my head, led me almost to the
extreme of no medicine, if extreme it can be called. I did not even
retain my daily tumbler of ale.
Though I began my medical career as an apprentice or journeyman, merely,
and went abroad chiefly as the associate of my predecessor, I was soon
called upon in his absence, and in other circumstances, to take the
whole charge of patients; or at least to do so till a longer experience
was available. Thus I was gradually inducted into an important office,
without incurring a full and proportionate share of its
responsibilities.