"Gimmie Those Old Time Doctors"
January 25, 2004 
   

From earliest times, seems Galveston has always  been known as a “medical town.”  That comes from having had a medical school here from the days when the building known as “Old Red” was the whole school.  

When I was born in June of 1936 there were two hospitals in Galveston.  St. Mary’s Infirmary and John Sealy.  Custom at the time had it that most Galvestonians went to St. Mary’s.  People from off-island went to John Sealy, which even then was a “state” institution in the minds of most locals.

Interestingly, many of the local doctors did not have admitting privileges at both hospitals.  One’s choice of a physician at the time could well be governed in part by what hospital one wanted to be admitted to when sick.

My parents, who were married in 1930, had chosen Dr. E. Sinks McLarty, Sr., known around town as “Dr. Mack” as their family doctor.  The Williamson family had founded the Broadway Drugstore in the Twenties and my parents were “patients” of Mr. Williamson, the pharmacist, as well as Dr. Mack.

We never understood how good we had it until we lost it.  I mean doctors who made house calls at two o’clock in the morning and pharmacists who got up and went to the store to fill and deliver a prescription by three-thirty that same morning.  Can you imagine?  And, we took such things for granted.

When I was sick as a small child, my parents called Dr. McLarty at any time of night.  He lived with his wife, Milda, at the Buccaneer Hotel on 23^rd and Boulevard.  They had  a son, E. S., Jr., who also was a widely known Galveston doctor in later years.  I first remember the senior Dr. Mack’s office being at 22^nd Street and Sealy.  It was called the Medical Arts Building and today it is all apartments.  Other doctors were in the building such as Delaney and Stephen.  There was a pharmacy there owned by Lorraine and Tom Youngblood, whose son, Tommy, later became a judge in Galveston.  Dr. McLarty later had offices in the Galvez Hotel.  One entered the doctor’s office from the 21^st Street side of the Galvez and the office was on the ground floor.  Mrs. Trotter was the receptionist and she was very dignified and matronly.  The nurse was Gladys Ferris or Farris, who also happened to live near my family at 4202 Avenue R.  Miss Gladys was the first nurse I knew who could give you a painless injection.

Dr. Mack used St. Mary’s Infirmary rather than John Sealy though for all I know, he may have had admission privileges at both places.  My parents were Catholic so there was no question but that our family used St. Mary’s.  I do know that the Sisters who operated St. Mary’s were wonderful people and totally dedicated to helping others.  Galveston doctors of my day were widely known for their opulent use of profanity.  Dr. Mack was no slouch in that department.  Seems the more Dr. Mack and some others swore a blue streak at St. Mary’s, the more the Sisters beamed at them and said “Oh, Dr. Mack.”

McLarty, Sr., was also known for wearing bow ties.  He was so tremendously near-sighted that he had some thick clip-on lenses that went over his regular glasses and, still, when he really wanted to look at something or someone in his office, he took all of the glasses off and got right up next to you.

My Mother was an inveterate contract bridge player.  She was playing bridge the day she went into labor with me.  She was at the home of Mrs. William Scott (Mother of Galveston Police Officer Bill Scott) on Broadway between 26^th and 27^th Streets.  Mrs. Scott had a brother-in-law named Jack Scott who was doing his internship or residency at St. Mary’s at the same time I was getting ready to be born.  As I was being successfully brought into this world by Dr. Mack and my Mother, my Mother began to intone “Call Hazel at 8931.”  She repeated this several times and the telephone number sounded familiar to the young intern on duty assisting Dr. Mack.  He suddenly realized it was the telephone number of his friend, Jack Scott, who was living at the Scott home while doing his internship at St. Mary’s.  As quickly as possible, this young man went to Scott and said “There’s a woman who’s just had a baby boy who keeps saying “Call Hazel at 8931.  I don’t know what it’s about but I recognized your telephone number.”  Jack Scott roared with laughter and said “That’s Mrs. Victor Lang.  She and my sister-in-law, Hazel Scott, are great friends.  She wants Hazel to bring the clamps here to the hospital.”  Seems the way women regained their figures in the Thirties after pregnancy was to wear a clamped belt around their waists for a period of time after giving birth.  My Mother, never one to let any time go unused, wanted her friend to get that belt to St. Mary’s once I was safely in this world.

My Father had a couple of good stories about my birth involving Dr. Mack and my Mother.  Seems Fathers were allowed in the delivery rooms at that time.  I was a high forceps baby and as Dr. Mack was gently easing me into the world, my Mother kept asking “Is it a boy, Dr. Mack, is it a boy?”  Finally, greatly annoyed with my Mother and sweating bullets, Dr. Mack replied gently “It’s a boy, Katie, now Goddam it, shut up.”  Vintage McLarty.  My Father, watching birth for the first time in his life, did not understand that male children are born with their testes considerably inflated.  My Father took one look at mine and ran out the delivery room door looking for his Mother-in-law.  She and her sister were saying the Rosary in one corner of a waiting room.  Excitedly, my Father yelled at them “It’s a boy Grandma, and you oughta see the size of the balls on him.”  If you’ve read other things I’ve written where my Grandmother was mentioned, you will know she was neither shocked nor taken aback by such language.

McLarty, Sr., was what was known as a G. P. or General Practitioner.  That meant he did a bit of everything for his patients.  From my birth through the Sixties, it was rare for one to be referred to a Specialist.  GPs simply did things right there in their offices.  If you had warts, they were burned off with an electric needle then and there.    One did not go to see a Dermatologist.  And, so on down the line.  GPs seemed to understand quite well where the line was when a Specialist was called for and did not hesitate to send you to one when appropriate.  The problem today, as I see it, is that Primary Care Physicians (the soi-disant equivalent of GPs) are mostly conduits.  You see them, they send you to the appropriate Specialist.  Doesn’t seem to me the PCPs get to practice very much medicine.  (But I have one right now who does---and his name is Dr. Victor Sierpina.)

I had a very healthy childhood.  However, Dr. Mack saw my Mother through a mercifully light case of Polio and Menopause.  He saw my Father through a massive hypertensive myocardial infarction, ischemia and some small strokes.

Where Dr. Mack really came through for me was when I was a Freshman at the University of Texas.  I lived at a rooming and boarding house and ate lots but not wisely.  I would crave two to three hot fudge sundaes in the afternoon.  I began to feel very listless in midafternoons and when climbing the stairs to my bedroom, also felt rather dizzy.  Since I was rarely sick, I was very concerned and went to see a Doctor at the Student Health Center.  With little testing, she announced I had Diabetes and should start treatment with insulin immediately.   Even then a cynic, I decided to come home to Galveston and check in with Dr. Mack before starting any kind of treatment for any kind of problem.  I told Dr. Mack what the doctor in Austin had said.  He immediately set me up for what was called a Glucose Tolerance Test.  One drank a beaker of 500 CCs of a kind of lemonade.  For about five hours after that, every hour on the hour, one gave up (gladly) a urine specimen and one’s blood was drawn for tests.  The net result of all this, when I next saw Dr. Mack, was that I did not have Diabetes but its medical opposite, Hypoglycemia.  Had I started taking insulin with this problem, I would have probably died as a result of such incorrect diagnosis.  Boy, in today’s world I’d have had one hell of a law suit running in my favor against the Student Health Center.  ‘Twas a different world in 1954.  I’ll settle, however, for having lived.  Does anyone wonder why I have such fond memories of Dr. Mack in addition to him having brought me into this world?

Two small asides. Here is one. In the Forties, the Lions’ Club of Galveston was still staging an annual Minstrel Show at the City Auditorium.  My Grandmother always took me to see this as she loved the show and the music.  Once, Dr. Mack made a cameo appearance all dolled up in a clinging dress and a turban.  I think he was meant to look like the movie star, Carmen Miranda.  Blind as a bat without his glasses, Dr. Mack tripped coming across the stage and let loose a few choice expletives.  That was how I knew for sure who he was.  After that and until I graduated from High School, I always asked Dr. Mack where his turban was when I went to his office.

Here is the other.  When in High School I joined the ROTC.  That meant a good deal of marching around in close order drill.  I began to have pains in my right big toe. Mother took me to Dr. Mack about this as I was having trouble marching.  A couple of my dear little friends in High School, such as Edward Williamson and Edward Jamison, opined there was nothing wrong with me except I did not want to march in the warmer weather.  At any rate, after looking me over, Dr. Mack decided this was one of those times when a visit to a Specialist would be in order.  He referred me to Dr. William Ainsworth, an Orthopedist.  After numerous x-rays, Dr. Ainsworth confronted my Mother and me with a very serious look on his face.  My Mother gasped for breath and said “Dr. Ainsworth, what’s wrong with my Son?”  Ainsworth considered for a moment and then said “Well, Mrs. Lang, let me put it this way, your Son could climb trees a great deal more easily than other people.”  Turns out I had something called, in layman’s language, “Monkey Feet.”  Hell, I already knew this as I had discovered earlier on that I could write legibly with both feet.  At any rate, there was some orthopedic device I acquired and that was the end of that episode in my life.  And, yes, I did march in the warmer weather until I became the Administrative Officer of the Battalion in my Senior Year and did not have to march at all.  Too busy doing paper work for the Professor of Military Science and Tactics, a regular Army man, who was in charge at Ball High.

It would be no trouble for me to keep writing until this essay is about five times as long as it is right this minute.  I would love to write about my great friend, Dr. Edward R. Thompson, Jr., another of the wonderful GPs of Galveston.  Perhaps another day for my friend, Eddie.  I start teaching Public Speaking again at A & M on Pelican Island tomorrow and must get my lesson plans completed this afternoon.

Seeing as how this screed was all about doctors, let me give you a wish for the New Year.  Whatever doctors are like today, I hope none of us has to see many of them in 2004 unless on a purely social basis.  Good health to all of you and me, too.  I hope I find you still reading the next time I’m writing. 

All the best, Victor Lang

Listen to Victor talk to Jim Guidry about doctors' offices and baby pictures.