Wirral Life February 2019 | Page 75

W MEDICAL L THE OPERATION WITH A 300% MORTALITY RATE BY PROFESSOR CONOR MAGEE MD FRCS, CONSULTANT SURGEON Surgery is safe. It is not risk-free but by and large it is safe. The greatest fear for any surgeon (and patient) is that of operative mortality - dying as a direct consequence of surgery. limb into the surgical bucket (fondly called the Limb Bin). In those days surgery was literally a spectator sport - the patient a terrified actor in a real-life Grand Guignol performance. For many operations mortality can be measured in fractions of a percent, for complex operations mortality may reach 5-10%. This means that the chance of dying is between 1 in 20 and 1 in 10. A hundred percent mortality means the operation kills you, no ifs or buts, you die. But where Dr Liston has earned his place in medical history is the unfortunate leg amputation where it all went wrong. As with all his other cases the patient was brought in and placed on a wooden table- the leg probably broken and infected (the records are unclear). No white coats or bright halogen lights - just Dr Liston wearing an apron caked with body fluid and one, maybe two assistants. And knives and saws- sharpened to perfection to slice through unforgiving skin, muscle and bone. So - how can an operation have a 300% mortality? You can only die once, surely. Let me take you back to University College Hospital, London, 1864. Now it’s fair to say that 19th century surgery was not quite the safe, aseptic, cool, controlled surgery we perform today. Back then there were no antibiotics, no real knowledge of infection- very little in the way of anaesthesia. In fact pain relief was a combination of alcohol and burly men restraining you as you bit down on a piece of leather to control your screams. Unsurprisingly speed was a surgeons greatest asset- if you have to endure agonies, best make them as short as possible. Not only that but the longer the operation the greater risk of infection and death. Enter Dr Robert Liston - reputedly the fastest surgeon of his time. A man whose ability to perform limb amputation was so quick that “only” 1 in 10 of his patients died, compared to his 1 in 4 of his contemporaries. Such was Dr Liston’s renown he would often begin an amputation with a shout of “Time me, Gentlemen”. Now speed is not often accompanied by skill - indeed there are reports that testicles often accompanied the Time me Gentlemen, indeed. Liston’s assistants pin the patient down- sweating and reeking of Gin, wriggling desperately to avoid the inevitable. Liston slices through the thigh - blood arcs everywhere, warm blood enveloping the hand he uses to hold the thigh. There is pus visible now - its cloying odour makes the audience gag. The patient jerks with the pain and the assistant’s hand slips- Liston catches it in his knife. A howl from the assistant as the pus covered, bloody knife cuts a finger off. A member of the audience screams in horror and collapses to the floor- killed immediately by a heart attack. Liston - ever the professional- perseveres and a rotted limb is dumped in the bucket while his assistant nurses his wounded hand. Within a week both the patient and the assistant have died from infection. One operation. Three deaths. A three hundred percent mortality rate. Professor Conor Magee is Consultant Surgeon at Spire Murrayfield. wirrallife.com 75