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The Doctor Who Saved Babies: Ignaz Philipp Semmelweis

I knew that sometime in the nineteenth century someone figured out that disease and germs were transferred to well patients by the dirty, contaminated hands of doctors and nurses and that medical personnel needed to wash their hands before examining a patient. But I didn’t know until I read this biography of the Hungarian doctor, Ignaz Semmelweis, that it was he who researched, discovered, and popularized this simple but revolutionary practice, saving thousands of lives in his own practice, and perhaps even millions through the next two centuries. (Interesting sidenote: In the United States, Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes also independently discovered and wrote a paper on the efficacy of hand-washing and general hygiene in preventing the occurrence of puerperal fever, but no one believed him any more than they did Semmelweis at first.)

Central European history is a part of this Messner biography (published by Julian Messner publishers mostly in the 1940’s through the 1960’s), as Dr. Semmelweis was born (1818) into the Austro-Hungarian Empire and as an adult took part in unsuccessful efforts to free Hungary from the empire. But the emphasis is on Semmelweis himself and his part in making medical history. The biography doesn’t idealize Semmelweis; his flaws and mental health issues are evident, but not overly emphasized either. Semmelweis was obsessed with what he called his Lehre, his protocol for cleanliness that would keep women during and after childbirth from contracting the deadly puerperal fever. This infection killed up to a third of the women giving birth in hospitals because doctors were unknowingly carrying infection from the autopsy room directly to the maternity ward and because of dirty bed linens and open toilets in the middle of wards.

The biography itself is compelling and highly readable as are all of the Messner biographies I have read. The author takes Dr. Semmelweis from his young adulthood in Hungary, through his medical studies in Vienna, and back to Hungary where he practiced medicine, implemented his Lehre in Hungarian hospitals, and eventually succumbed to overwork, mental illness, and blood poisoning (ironically contracted from a lapse in the care that he usually took to wash and oil his hands before handling cadavers) and died at the age of forty-seven.

However, in spite of his comparatively short life, Dr. Semmelweis left a legacy of life and health to those who give birth or undergo surgery in hospitals. Author Josephine Rich ends her book with this tribute:

“It is almost one hundred years since his death, but the results of his work live on. Somewhere in the world, every minute of the day and night, a baby is born. It lives because a dedicated doctor spent all his lifetime tracking down a disease spread by filth and carelessness. Every mother today owes a debt of gratitude to Ignaz Semmelweis, the doctor who saved babies.”

And yet . . . from the CDC: “On average, healthcare providers clean their hands less than half of the times they should. On any given day, about one in 25 hospital patients has at least one healthcare-associated infection.”

This NPR story about Dr. Semmelweis doesn’t agree in all its details with the biography I read, but it does give the basic information about Semmelweis and his Lehr and his struggle to implement it and get other doctors to do the same. If you’re at all interested in medical history or the particular life of Ignaz Semmelweis, I would urge you to track down the book. It’s fascinating. (I have a copy in my library.)

The Language of Spells by Garret Weyr

A dragon first spends fifty plus years trapped as an enchanted teapot. Then, as World War II is ending, the dragon, Grisha, is freed from his teapot spell entrapment, and he follows the rest of the dragons to Vienna where he is again trapped in a dead-end job at a castle and not allowed to leave the city. When Grisha meets Maggie at the Blaue Bar, the two of them embark up on a quest to free the dragons who have been put to sleep and imprisoned in an underground space. Maggie and her father, Alexander the poet, are two of the very few people who can truly see Grisha and the other un-imprisoned dragons, except that the tourists can see Grisha, too, and ask him questions in his day-job as a tour guide at the castle.

I found this one to be really odd. I kept wanting to read it as allegory, in the way that C.S. Lewis insisted his Narnia books were NOT allegorical, but I couldn’t make anything fit. Maybe it’s just my way of reading. Is it a book about the Holocaust? No, although there are elements that evoke a persecuted and misunderstood minority. About the industrial revolution and modernity and its effect on faith and whimsy and beauty? Maybe, kinda sorta. About Communism and it’s effect on Eastern Europe? Not really. It’s set mostly in an alternate history fantasy Vienna. It’s not really any of those things, just odd, and contemplative and a little slow. But I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to contemplate or think about.

And the rules of the story or the world in which it was set kept shifting in a disconcerting way. The cats are evil. No, not really evil. Well, maybe. Most people can’t see the dragons, but the tourists can see and talk to the dragons who work as caretakers and tour guides at old castles. Magic requires a price. So, it’s kind of cruel. But we want to go back and live in a magical world anyway. Nostalgic longing for the days of magic abounds. Memories are malleable and fragile. Memories are the most important part of who we are. I guess it did make me think, but I’m still not sure what I think about the book as a whole. (I did find the couple of times that Maggie’s father uses God’s name in vain to be disconcerting, annoying, unnecessary and perhaps out of character.)

It’s a decent book, but I’m not sure who would like it enough to stick with it. Amazon says it’s about “the transformative power of friendship”, and I did like the friendship between Maggie and Grisha. However, that wasn’t enough to really pull me into the story and make me believe in magical Viennese dragons.

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This book may be nominated for a Cybils Award, but the views expressed here are strictly my own and do not reflect or determine the judging panel’s opinions.