Reedsy Prompts Comment.
Excellent story. Please keep them coming!
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“I’m going round and round in circles here, Fitz, what’s the answer boy.” The physician looked down at the dog; the dog cocked its ear and looked at his master with intent; listening with sparkling intelligent eyes. The flickers of the candle reflecting in the pupils of the dog’s eyes.
It was 1846 in Vienna, the small shabby room was framed in darkness, only the flickering candlelight, showed the untidy papers scattered over the writing desk, the dim light profiled the physician slouching back in the old worn chair, and Fitz sitting, with an upturned head looking obediently at his owner Selius Azingweis, waiting eagerly for his next words. It was uncanny, but one could believe, Fitz understood every word from the physician, his clever eyes gave the impression of an avid listener.
“This childbirth fever has me beat, Fitz!” The physician continued.
The great theologies of the 17th and 18th centuries had started to question old beliefs, in science and medicine, the voodoo type magic used for centuries prior was now being openly questioned. Data analysis and autopsies were now commonly used and practiced by physicians such as Selius. These practices were based on new ideologies and thinking, and Selius was at the forefront of these new age thinkers.
Fitz was a new breed of dog, a Jack Russell terrier. The Reverend Jack, and Selius corresponded often, and when the Reverend informed his friend of the new breed, Selius was eager to adopt Fitz, one of the first pups in the litter of the new breed. The man and dog were inseparable, wherever Selius went; one always found Fitz trotting by his side, his head proudly held high, with an unspoken expression on the dog’s face.
“This is my master, he is the cleverest person in the human world, I love him!”
Selius had no time for society, no social life, it was all work, study, and analysis. But Fitz? Now that was another matter entirely. He spoke to Fitz like a human being, sharing all his thoughts, Fitz even slept by his bed in the bedroom, on the floor beside his master, which was an unusual situation in those long-ago days in 19th century Austria.
Selius was born in the region of Buda Hungary in 1818, one of ten children, his father was a successful and wealthy grocer, his spices were renowned all over the Austrian-Hungarian Empire. Selius started studying law at the university of Vienna, but the profession didn’t inspire him, it was a dry soulless topic to study, he was a man of new medical practices, breaking down the old walls of myth and magic. He thankfully and eagerly changed after one year to the study of human anatomy and medicine and gained his doctorate in 1844. He failed to gain an appointment at a clinic in Vienna for the study of internal medicine, but instead was appointed to study obstetrics, the study of childbirth.
Selius was a passionate man, whatever he decided upon in his life, his focus would be overwhelmingly comprehensive, it was his divinity, it became part of his heart and soul.
The mortality rates for childbirth for women and the newborn were as high as 10 percent at the clinic. Women would prefer to give birth in the street, then attend the dreaded maternity clinic in Vienna, its reputation was so dire. Both Selius and Fitz had watched the sobbing pregnant women, begging the doctor not to be admitted to the clinic, they wanted to take their chances elsewhere. All this was puzzling for a sibling of nine healthy brothers and sisters.
“It’s the childbed fever, doctor, it isn’t safe here!” The women would desperately cry. “It’s bewitched with evil spirits in his place, I’m telling you.”
Selius took his job very seriously, he would walk with Fitz to the homes of his patients, and study their homes, trying to understand the reasoning of the childbed sickness, why would a clinic continue to bear the deaths of women and child, with the attendance of qualified doctors and midwives, with equipment in the event of a difficult conception, as oppose giving birth on the streets of Vienna, or in their homes. It didn’t add up.
Fitz was a karmic dog, the son of PRUMT, he knew the cause. The breeding process of the Reverend Jack and Chin and his ancestry had put Fitz on earth to help other people to find cause and effect, he was here to help the young doctor to find the answers.
Unbeknown to the passionate seeking doctor, with no answers, only questions and the effects of many tragic deaths of poor souls at his clinic, caused by the fever.
Fitz had watched his master in his analysis from the beginning. In the clinic there were two wards for childbirth, one staffed by doctors, and the other by midwives. Both had different methods of childbirth, the midwives would put the women on their sides, but the doctors would put the women on their backs. Selius told the doctors to put the women on their sides for childbirth – no difference.
Then there was the stupid practice of the priest and the ringing of the bell to ward off evil spirits, whenever there was a death of women or child, or both. Selius banned the ritual; he thought it was archaic, and it certainly frightened the women preparing for their own births. Fitz hated the priest anyway, his body odour was abhorrent, and he always complained to everyone loudly.
“What is that animal doing in this ward, it could be Satan himself in disguise!”
His master would reply. “I’m the doctor here, priest, Fitz stays.”
Fitz looked up proudly at his master’s words, and then darted a knowing look at the bell ringing priest.
The banning of the priest and the ritual of ringing the bell in the wards, again made no difference to the mortality rate. Selius was perplexed.
Then sad news. He was away with Fitz in his parent’s house at Buda, and an express delivery of a letter arrived with bad news, advising of the death of his colleague the pathologist Dr Khubz who had died suddenly. Both he and Fitz rushed back to the clinic.
As this was a clinic, the death of any doctor needed to be understood. It was found that Dr Khubz had died from the same disease as the women and newborn babies, the childbirth fever – Puerperal Fever. This was a breakthrough of understanding, the disease was not consistent with childbirth, anybody could die from it. But the answer, the cause still eluded Selius, what are the causes, how can it be prevented?
The puzzlement continued for Selius.
Dr Khubz had died when he was performing an autopsy on the cadaver of a dead woman and child, it was found. But why are more women dying in childbirth at the doctor’s ward, than the midwives’ ward. Maybe it is something to do with the autopsy. The doctors attended the births, and they also performed the autopsy on the dead bodies, let’s start there Selius started to surmise.
There was an event the next day that also triggered Selius’s hypothesis. A midwife took up the same opinion as the priest, as she voiced her objections.
“Take that mut out of here!” she demanded. “That dog is dirty; he shouldn’t be allowed on the wards.”
“Fitz is cleaner than most of the doctors, and midwives around here, every day after his walk, I personally wash his feet, sometimes a good tub washing, and then I wash him with chlorine solution, before he gets dried.” Selius expunged her demands.
That was it! Selius, with his defense of Fitz against the unkind demands of the midwife, the answer started to resonate in his mind. The doctors performed their childbirth duties, and at the same time were performing examinations on dead bodies, there must be something in this daily occurrence that is the cause of the higher death rate on the doctor’s ward compared to the midwife’s ward.
“Fitz boy, we might have something here!” he whispered downward at the attentive head of Fitz.
Fitz yelped, he knew the cause, and now his master was on the right track.
Selius called a meeting of the entire clinic to propose a new procedure, especially for the doctors. He wanted everybody in the clinic to start washing their hands regularly in the chlorine solution, use soap and water, as well as wash all the instruments in the same manner, he ended by saying.
“The stench of the dead corpses is insufferable, it lingers on your clothes, the solution will remove the smell, and that’s better for the women on the wards, better all of us.”
The doctors in those far away days had no sense of cleanliness, no one did. They performed their cadaver examinations, and the childbirths sometimes in their dinner jackets, and long white gloves, the concept of washing their hands in chlorine as a practice was met with condemnation.
“Look here young Selius, we are experienced doctors and obstetricians, you can’t come here, and tell us what to do, we have been doing this since you were born, my lad.”
The doctors were irritated by Selius’s proposal.
Selius pleaded. “Please give it a try, just for a week, think about it as an experiment, we are men of new science and modern medicine, at least trial this new procedure for a week, I beg you dear sirs.”
Selius and Fitz watched the trial take place with vigilance in the next days, on the doctor’s ward, chlorine solution and soap were placed at the doors of both the wards, and the autopsy examination room below.
The results were outstanding. No deaths in the doctor’s ward for a whole week, unheard of. The doctors continually objected to the process, but the results were evident. Unfortunately, not all the doctors agreed with Selius, as the doctors said the washing of their hands was too simplistic to be the cause, and it was inconvenient for the doctors.
There were two doctors, Dr Hass, and Dr Gruber that Fitz didn’t like. Both would always glare at Fitz with black eyes, the anger was apparent on their faces, with their fascial scowls. They were much older than Selius, the most experienced doctors at the clinic, they were proud men, always talking about hunting, and laughing at Fitz saying.
“We could use you on the hunt, but you are not a fox terrier, you are a new breed from that imbecilic preacher from England, what does he know about hunting.” They would opine.
Not long after the chlorine washing process was introduced, Fitz stood near the two doctors whispering in the corridor of the clinic. He overheard their conversation about his master.
“This washing lark by Selius, we are seeing results, but why? Can’t explain it, neither can he. Bad vibes I have about this.” Dr Hans said to Dr Gruber.
“If there is a connection between the autopsies and attending the women in childbirth, and the news gets out, that’s bad news for both the doctors and the clinic. What happens if they start to accuse us of their deaths?” Dr Gruber replied.
“Our reputations, and the clinic will be destroyed, we need to conceal any findings, and protect this proud institution, the clinic, and the doctors. We must have a plan, and that Selius needs to go, before he brings us all down with him, and his brainless hand washing ideas!” Concluded Dr Hans.
The plot was hatched. Secretly the two doctors petitioned the other doctors, that the experiment would expose the clinic to ridicule, and they would be blamed for the death of many women and newborn children, if the news ever reached the ears and eyes of Vienna society. They needed to protect themselves, and the reputation of the famous clinic.
They started to write articles in the newspapers, and medical journals to expose Selius as a fraud, a charlatan. Washing hands in chlorine had no substantive proof. It was a myth. The discovery of minute germs was yet to be proved for years to come. Selius tried to link the cause and effect, but he didn’t possess the means to prove his theories. He was ridiculed not only by his fellow doctors, but the greater Vienna and medical world.
Fitz watched as his master struggled with his ostracization. Selius knew he had discovered something remarkable, but he had failed to prove it. The world of new science and medicine wanted tangible proof, and he was unable to provide it. He dissolved into a state of disconsolation, he started to drink heavily, take women back to his small rooms, his depressive state of mind struggled, and the demons hovered around his shattered well-being.
Selius was eventually released from the famous clinic, under the guise of “no fit to practice”, his reputation and his passion, dissolved like emptied bottles of alcohol, he now took comfort in daily, to obliterate his sober and depressing thoughts. Poor Fitz watched on with obedience and in horror.
Fitz wished above all else that Selius could find enlightenment and keep trying. He had found the cause and effect of the illness, he must now be strong, turn away from the current tragic situation, his dismal from the clinic and the conniving and non-supportive colleagues. Time will come when the outcomes of his leading and groundbreaking research, are seen in a different light, a more enlightened world. Like the man sitting on the riverbank watching the downstream waters, he must wait his time, something will eventually float by, and improve the situation.
If only I could talk with my master, and tell him that in this moment in time, in this life he has been blessed, he will be honoured in many lifetimes to come for his discoveries. Don’t be angry with your current circumstances, the balance of life, and the world will recognize in the future your heroic deeds.
Unfortunately, for both Selius and Fitz circumstances become worse. Selius was made homeless, as he had no income, and he was too proud to seek his father’s support. Selius and Fitz lived on the streets of Vienna, and one day the community inspectors threw Selius into a mental institution. In those far away days, these institutions were worse than prisons, at least with prisons they would let you out after serving the time. A mental institution was for life, for those poor wretches.
Fitz became a street dog, a stray with no owner, feeding out of the squalor on those dirty streets of Vienna, taking shelter under trees and shrubs of the parks of the city at night. But he would go every night to the windows of the mental institution, and howl in the wind, hoping that his master would hear and recognize his Fitz. It was a scene like that of the Edinburgh cemetery, and the grieving dog; Greyfriars Bobby. The absent master, and his obedient and loyal dog.
His master died within weeks of being admitted, it was such a sad and tragic ending of a short life. Fitz always felt responsible for that young bright man, and always remembered him with his passionate, intelligent demeanour pouring over his books and his papers of research and analysis, sometimes looking down at Fitz, and conversing with the dog. Those thoughts were the happiest, and they would remind Fitz constantly of his master for all the remaining days in this lifetime.