With only two exceptions, they were devoted to their patients, and as
attentive as in private practice or as the immense number of sick
allowed them to be. These exceptions were both men who were unwilling
to get up at night, and if called were fearfully cross. At one time I
had a fierce contest with a surgeon of this kind, and fought it out,
coming off victorious. I was called up one night to see a patient who
had required and received the closest attention, but who was, we
hoped, improving. Finding him apparently dying, I sent at once for
Doctor ----, meanwhile trying, with the help of the nurse, every means
to bring back warmth to his body, administering stimulants, rubbing
the extremities with mustard, and applying mustard-plasters. The poor
fellow was conscious, and evidently very much frightened; he had
insisted upon sending for me and seemed to be satisfied that I would
do everything in my power. Doctor ---- came in, looking black as a
thunder-cloud. "What the devil is all this fuss about? what are you
going to do with that mustard-plaster? Better apply it to that pine
table; it would do as much good;" then to the nurse, "Don't bother
that fellow any more; let him die in peace.
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