An Ode to Anesthesia

My father, Dr. George Robert Weeks � or �G. R.� as many called him � was an anesthesiologist, which took me a long time to spell. They put people to sleep for surgery, although he once confided to me, �They don�t pay me to put �em to sleep, they pay me to wake �em back up again!� And indeed, he �woke back up� the vast majority of his patients, bless his heart.

The history of anesthesia goes way back to the invention of the hammer. Think �whack-a-mole,� but with live people. Early anesthetists tried various other techniques to refine the process, including using rubber hammers. However, the rubber models were often ineffective, with the result being an awake and agitated patient. This was often better than regular metal hammers, however, which could be so effective the patient never felt pain again. At least a dead patient can�t sue you!

Various improvements in anesthesia were made over the years, until they came up with the �bullet and whisky� method by the 19th Century. As anyone who has seen old Western movies knows, the patient takes a big slug of whisky and then bites on a bullet while the surgical procedure is performed. The whisky might well have done some good, but patients kept swallowing the bullet, introducing a whole new set of complications.

Eventually anesthesia improved exponentially when somebody figured out there were certain drugs which, when administered to a human being, caused that person to no longer care what anyone did to them. The patient would lie there in a stupor, allowing the doctors to perform whatever treatment they desired, with nary a whimper. It worked so well, in fact, that a certain percentage of those patients also never felt pain again! The drooling was an inconvenience, but manageable.

My father trained in the era of drugs for anesthesia, of course. His final training was at the University of Minnesota. Many of the patients they practiced on were tough Finns who worked in the mines and iron ranges of northern Minnesota. Dad said they were ideal training fodder for anesthesiologists, because they were so durable you just couldn�t kill them! The only pain they felt was when the bill came.

Dad also started probably the first pain clinic in Cape Girardeau. (He was definitely one of the first full-time anesthesiologists, working both the �old� Saint Francis � remember that? � and Southeast hospitals for a time.) The pain clinic treated anyone with chronic pain, particularly workers who had injured their backs, people with migraines, etc. In other words, patients who hadn�t found relief elsewhere.

While mostly a conventional doctor, my father wasn�t afraid to try unconventional methods if it meant success. Acupuncture, hypnosis and many other �far out� treatments were prescribed and sometimes worked! I�m sure he would have done a �laying on of the leeches� if he thought the outcome would be good.

Anesthesia has been of particular interest to me in the last few years as I�ve encountered it personally for virtually the first time(s). Between cataracts, colonoscopies and heart surgery, they have put me down for the count more than once. And I�ve always come back up from the mat, which indicates the anesthetists are indeed earning their pay. Interestingly, I remember less about what happened each time, which is truly a blessing.

So let�s hear it for the doctors who put you to sleep and wake you back up again! Be sure to thank your anesthetist for keeping pain away. Just be leery if his or her name is Maxwell, and they have a silver hammer in their hands.