OPINION:
THE MYSTERY OF THE EXPLODING TEETH: AND OTHER CURIOSITIES FROM THE HISTORY OF MEDICINE
By Thomas Morris
Dutton, $26, 368 pages
“The Mystery of the Exploding Teeth: And Other Curiosities from the History of Medicine” by medical historian Thomas Morris is a Ripley’s Believe It or Not on the archaic experiences and practices of the healing profession.
Chapters conveying bizarre accounts of “Unfortunate Predicaments,” “Mysterious Illnesses,” “Dubious Remedies,” “Horrifying Operations,” “Remarkable Recoveries,” “Tall Tales,” and “Hidden Dangers” engage the reader in oftentimes cringe-worthy accounts that frequently stretch credulity and sometimes burst it. Documented reports of people surviving underwater for hours or even days or a man living to be 152 years old can readily be dismissed while the case of a 70-year-old pregnant woman is scrapped to the imagination.
“The Mystery of the Exploding Teeth” is salted with quite a bit of wry wit and peppered with reproductions of actual journal headlines and historic illustrations. Mr. Morris’ accounts are derived mainly from medical journals, treatises and newspaper articles published in the 1700s and 1800s. In those days, an understanding of the origins of diseases and of the chemistry and mechanics of the human system were very limited. Understandably, cures were rather crude, often ineffective and potentially counter-productive and deadly.
Blood-letting often accompanied by an enema was apparently standard practice for whatever ailed the patient, even if the patient suffered from a serious spinal injury, gunshot or ax to the head, or being impaled to the deck of a ship by a wayward mast. Leeches were often used to relieve the body of blood, while blowing tobacco smoke “into the fundament” was once a popular way to deliver an enema in Europe.
Mr. Morris observes: “If you were lucky enough to escape a thorough bleeding, taking medicine often wasn’t much fun either. Commonly prescribed drugs throughout this period included highly toxic compounds of mercury and arsenic, while naturally occurring poisons such as hemlock and deadly nightshade were also staples of the medicine cabinet.” Other common medicines in 17th-century England included types of excrement, urine and blood, “as well as the saliva, sweat and fat of sundry animals.”
For those whose literary interests may not include extraordinary human events, “The Mystery of the Exploding Teeth” delves into appropriate medical history that helps chronicle some of the advancements made in this complex profession. For example, the “first institution in the world to be dedicated solelyto cancer research” was created “in 1898 as the Pathological Laboratory of the University of Buffalo, now known as Roswell Park Comprehensive Cancer Center.”
During the history of the medical profession, theory and practice went together; except that much of the theory was faulty leading to poor practice, as noted by the highly regarded Swiss physician Samuel Tissot of the 18th century. According to Mr. Morris, Dr. Tissot was “an early advocate of inoculation against smallpox and opposed some of the more radical measures employed to treat the disease, such as drastic bloodletting.” The doctor was “above all a practical physician and, unlike some of his contemporaries, believed that a theoretical argument was worthless unless backed up by empirical evidence.”
Throughout “The Mystery of the Exploding Teeth,” whenever possible, the author provides reasonable explanations for some of the inscrutable occurrences. For instance, in the case of “The Incredible Sleeping Woman,” when a woman slept continuously and unarousable for days, Mr. Morris proffers a diagnosis that she might have suffered from an unusual variety of the flu.
Or, in the case of a patient with violent pains described in “Saliva and Crow’s Vomit,” the remedy that included rubbing a very foul-smelling crow’s vomit concoction onto the backs of the feet cured the patient in one application. Mr. Morris observes that “faced with the prospect of a second dose, I would probably pronounce myself miraculously cured, too.”
Modern-day patients would probably add their hearty endorsement to Mr. Morris’ pronouncement.
• Anthony J. Sadar is a certified consulting meteorologist and author of “In Global Warming We Trust: Too Big to Fail” (Stairway Press, 2016).
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