[Faith-talk] {Spam?} Daily Thought for Friday, May 27, 2016
Paul Smith
paulsmith at samobile.net
Fri May 27 20:11:34 UTC 2016
Hello and greetings to you from an abnormally warm (or hot), depending
on how you cut it, Baltimore. Hope you are all doing fine on this
Friday or, for you in Australia, New Zealand or even the Seychelles as
this message is being written, a good Saturday, by God's matchless
grace and His providential care.
The following article is one that I posted several years ago, but many
of you have never read it. Although not specifically Christian in
tone, if you read it carefully you will notice the hand of God in this
article. It was originally written by Richard Bachman, a writer from
California, and it is entitled "The Quack Who Cured Malaria," rendered
as follows:
John Sappington was a frontier physician who promoted treating and
preventing malaria with quinine. His use of quinine saved thousands of
people from the damaging effects of the disease. Nonetheless he was
declared a "quack" by the St. Louis Medical Society.
In 1803 France ceded 828,000 square miles of land to the United States
for just $15 million. The Louisiana Purchase nearly doubled the size
of the United States. It also opened land west of the Mississippi
River to settlement.
Today it's known that malaria is a mosquito-borne illness. Experts in
the early 1800's thought malaria--literally "bad air"--was caused by
foul vapors rising from lowlands and stagnant water. Sappington
started practicing medicine in Franklin, Tennessee, in 1800. Malaria
in Tennessee was bad enough, but tales that drifted east from the
lowlands along the Missisippi, Ohio, Missouri and Arkansas Rivers were
horrendous. June to October was known as "the sickly season." Often,
half of the population in a given settlement were sick with malaria.
Most of the time people didn't die, but the recurrent chills, "shakes,"
and general malaise that befell them was devastating, especially since
it occurred mostly during the months when energy was most needed for
growing crops and hewing out homes from the wilderness.
The traditional medical "cure" for malaria was just as debilitating as
the illness it was supposed to relieve. The prescribed treatment was a
brutal regimen of emetics, enemas, and bleeding. This was supposed to
eliminate the fever's poison from the body. He termed it "murderous"
because patients often died from the "cure," or became susceptible to
other illnesses due to their weakened state.
Sappington read medical journals and books searching for up-to-date
information about malaria. In one, he found an article that described
a treatment that used the bark of the cinchona tree, grown in Peru.
The bark contained quinine, a chemical that proved effective in
treating malaria. He obtained some cinchona bark and treated some
settlers suffering from malaria with it. After some trial and error,
he found the dosage that worked for most people.
Sappington's treatment wasn't without flaw. Initially, he had patients
consume the ground-up cinchona bark. The coarse bark, however, often
caused stomach discomfort. Furthermore, the amount of quinine varied
from batch to batch of bark, which made finding a uniform dosage difficult.
Sappington learned about two French scientists who had extracted
quinine from cinchona bark. This was an important discovery because
the strength of quinine would be consistent and the regulating dosage
would be more precise. It took three years before he acquired some of
the quinine made by a Philadelphia chemist who had started the first
quinine factory in America.
Sappington experimented with dosage and learned the most effective
quantity for controlling a fever was one grain of quinine every two
hours, in all, 12 grains a day. This is about the same dosage that was
typically prescribed by modern-day doctors, before the disuse of
quinine for treating malaria.
Sappington ordered 100 ounces of quinine but received 100 pounds
instead. He was first upset, then elated. The huge amount of quinine
meant he could expand his battle against malaria. But his elation was
short lived. As he expanded his anti-malaria practice doctors who
didn't believe in quinine resented what they considered his intrusion
into their bailiwick.
To overcome the entrenched opposition into quinine, Sappington became a
"quack." He concocted "Sappington's Anti-Fever Pills," and kept the
ingredients secret. Each pill contained one grain of quinine, well
disguised in licorice, myrrh, and other fragrant but inert ingredients.
In the eyes of most doctors he became the medical equivalent of P.T.
Barnum. He proclaimed the pills a "new discovery," and advertised the
pills in the lurid style used by the purveyors of other patent
medicines. Sappington didn't mind being dubbed a quack, because as
people tried his pills and found out they worked, sales shot up.
Keeping up with demand was near impossible. The entire Sappington
household--his wife and their nine children, plus servants--spent hours
every day rolling pills. Sappington hired a core of traveling salesmen
to sell his "fever pills." Each of them had to take three pills a day
to prevent contracting malaria. None ever caught malaria despite
traveling through some of the most disease-ridden areas in North America.
Sappington's Anti-Fever Pills became the frontier's most famous, and
effective, prescription. He sold over one million boxes of his pills.
In the covered wagons that set out from Missouri for Santa Fe and
Oregon, one of the most important items was a stock of Sappington's pills.
Sappington wrote a book, "Theory and Treatment of Fevers," in 1844. In
it he told the secret of his anti-fever pills--quinine. Then he
advised readers to buy quinine and make their own pills at home.
He literally gave away his secret, and at the same time tossed some
barbs at his antagonists and those who stubbornly clung to the
traditional treatment. The book was dedicated to the people of the
United States and "to that portion of the medical profession who can
divest themselves of the _prejudice _of _education."
By publishing his secret ingredient, his pill business was destroyed.
He lost tens of thousands of dollars, which didn't surprise or upset
him. "I've made enough money," he told anyone who wanted to
commiserate about the loss of fortune. He had invested well and when
he died was still wealthy.
Sappington lived to be 80 years old and practiced medicine almost to
the day he died, September 7, 1856. Shortly before he died he created
the Sappington School Fund. In those days before free public schools,
the fund was used to aid the education of deserving youngsters. It was
the first fund of its kind west of the Mississippi. It still exists,
but now provides college scholarships. At the end of 2010 the fund had
more than $100,000 in assets.
Quinine was the first effective treatment for malaria. It remained the
antimalarial drug of choice until the 1940's, when other drugs were
developed. And Sappington's early use of quinine made possible the
eventual settlement of numerous states, where about 100 million people
live today.
This article sounds like something that Paul Harvey might have featured
in his "The Rest of the Story," in my opinion. I hope you enjoyed reading it.
By the way, I would be remiss, and my friend Bill who lives in St.
Louis, might point out that there is a bedroom community of that city
called Sappington. I learned that, while traveling on a bus from the
St. Louis Society for the Blind, sitting beside Pastor Dave Andrus,
director of the then Lutheran Blind Mission, of the existence of that
town but had no idea of whom it was named for. In my opinion it was a
deserving honor.
And that will do it for today. Until tomorrow when, Lord willing
another daily thought message and article will be posted, may the God
of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob just keep us safe, individually and
collectively, in these last days in which we live. Your Christian
friend and brother, Paul
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