Contemporary Descriptions of Operating Theatres
John Flint South was surgeon to St Thomas's Hospital from 1831 to
1863. In his 'Memorials'' he described the scene during operations
in the theatre :
'The general arrangement of all the theatres was the same, a
semicircular floor and rows of semicircular standings, rising above
one another to the large skylight which lighted the theatre. On the
floor the surgeon operating, with his dressers, the surgeons and apprentices
of both hospitals, and the visitors stood about the table, upon which
the patient lay, and so placed that the best possible view of what
was going on was given to all present. The floor was separated by
a partition from the rising stand-places, the first two rows of which
were occupied by the other dressers, and behind a second partition
stood the pupils, packed like herrings in a barrel, but not so quiet,
as those behind them were continually pressing on those before, and
were continually struggling to relieve themselves of it, and had not
infrequently to be got out exhausted. There was also a continual calling
out of "Heads, heads", to those about the table
whose heads interfered with the sightseers... The confusion and crushing
was indeed at all times very great, especially when any operation
of importance was to be performed, and I have often known even the
floor so crowded that the surgeon could not operate till it had been
partially cleared. After our operations were over, the students rushed
down two flights of stairs and across the street to Guy's, to rush
up as many stairs and repeat the same scrambling for places and confusion
as before. With all this struggling for the best places, it was very
rarely any quarrelling occurred; everyone seemed to consider he must
put up with the pushing and squeezing if he could only contrive to
get a glimpse of what was going on; but the majority had to draw largely
upon their imaginations of what they fancied they saw. Of course the
importance of the operation and the reputation of the operator had
large influence on the number of spectators; and their violent scrambling
efforts to gain entrance into the theatre, and their distribution
in their proper places often led to severe contests and even fighting
with the hospital servants to whom this duty was assigned.'..'
E. A. Barton wrote, about operations towards the end of the 19th century
'...close up to the left hand door in the corner you see a small wash
basin about the size of a large soup plate, in which the surgeons
washed their hands after -sometimes even before - operating. Alongside
the basin is a row of pegs from which hang the operating coats of
the staff. These were mostly old frock coats, stiff and stinking with
pus and blood. The more advanced, however, after removing their coats
would put on a grocer's bib and apron of some non-absorbent stuff.
On entering the theatre to operate, the surgeon would take off his
coat and don his "operating coat" rolling up his sleeves
and turning up the collar over his white linen, to save this from
some errant vessel's attention.
The table was covered with a blanket, over this was a large sheet
of brown oil cloth coming well down over the blanket. Beneath the
table may be seen a wooden box about 18"x 12"x 4" (5.5
x 3.6 x 1.2 m) deep filled with sawdust. This box can be kicked by
the surgeon's foot to anyplace where most blood is running in little
gutters off the oil cloth. As the sawdust becomes unable to absorb
any more and is converted into a bloody porridge, one hears the surgeon
call "More sawdust, Holder," when afresh boxful is placed
under the table...
After the surgeon had finished for the day he would wash his hands
and forearms, hang up his coat, look at his face in the tiny looking
glass, go round hi sward...'
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