Davis Coakleyreviews Irish Surgeons and Surgery in the Twentieth CenturyEdited by Barry O'Donnell Gill Macmillan 647 pp, €60
IRISH SURGEONS and Surgery in the Twentieth Centuryis the most ambitious and comprehensive book written about Irish surgery since the publication of Charles Cameron's The History of the Royal College of Surgeons in Irelandin 1886. Highly respected internationally as a surgeon, the editor Barry O'Donnell is also famous as a raconteur and his book sparkles throughout with wit and humour.
The book is primarily a collection of short biographies of general surgeons and specialists who worked in Ireland between 1900 and 2005. There are also sections on the development of surgery over the last 100 years including contributions on surgical specialities and on the allied disciplines of anaesthesia and radiology.
In the early years of the 20th century, surgeons had to be quick as an anaesthetic which went beyond one hour almost always led to a fatal outcome. They had to be daring and very confident, attributes which seemed to come easily to many of them. William Pearson, professor of surgery in Cork from 1899 to 1928 was quoted as saying, "The only time I was wrong was when I thought I was wrong, but I was proved right in the end."
Young surgeons travelled abroad to centres of excellence in Europe and the United States for further experience. Some brought back innovations such as the practice of wearing masks during surgery, which was introduced in France to keep the beards of surgeons out of wounds!
The carnage of the conflict in Northern Ireland looms large in the biographies of several of the surgeons. Willoughby Wilson was the surgeon on call for three of the most horrific bomb blasts in Belfast: The Red Lion, the Electricity Boardin 1971 and the Abercorna year later. Harry Bennett looked after the casualties of Bloody Sunday in 1972 in Altnagelvin Hospital and also cared for the victims of the INLA bomb at the Droppin' Well, Ballykelly, 10 years later. For the rest of his life he could not think of these awful events without emotion. Alistair McGibbon dealt with the majority of the victims from the Enniskillen bomb when five of those killed and several of those seriously injured were his personal friends.
Many other Irish surgeons served in various capacities during the first and second World Wars. Douglas Montgomery was the first allied surgeon to step on to the shore of Normandy on D-Day 1944. His first operation was on a German soldier.
Dublin surgeon Nigel Kinnear was one of the first doctors to enter Bergen-Belsen, the Nazi concentration camp, after liberation by the Allies.
Image was an important consideration for several surgeons. The dress code, make of car and address were carefully chosen to inspire admiration and awe. Although, of course, there were many who did not match this stereotype. The Dublin gynaecologist Robert Dancer Purefoy (d.1909) was one of the last surgeons to wear a top hat while operating. The working clothes of JJ Kearney (d.1962), professor of obstetrics and gynaecology in Cork consisted of "striped 'pepper and salt' trousers, black jacket, white shirt and dark tie, and he always wore them, even lying on Youghal beach with his shoes and socks off".
Barry O'Donnell, we are told, managed to "exceed his mother's expectations and not many Cork boys do that!" On his honeymoon in Rome in June 1959, Pope John XXIII blessed his hands and then said (in Italian), "I'd better bless his head as well because that's where the decisions are made." There is too much gossip and banter in the book to credit an influence to John XXIII, but then, on reflection, he also, like the editor, had a great sense of humour.
This book will be a source of reference on Irish surgery for years to come and the editor is to be complimented on his remarkable achievement.
Davis Coakley is professor of medical gerontology in Trinity College Dublin and author of a number of books including Irish Masters of Medicineand Oscar Wilde: The Importance of Being Irish