HOSPITAL ABUSE.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXXI, Issue 449, 28 January 1909, Page 3

HOSPITAL ABUSE.

It has recently been averred, writes “ A Mere Surgical Fellow,” in a contemporary, that the public hospitals of the dominion are open to all —rich and poor alike — “patent omnibus.” Might I humbly suggest that the hospitals are for the poor, and those with limited means. Might I also suggest that the millionaires and the owners of flocks and herds in the Raugitikei should pay their doctor for his skill. ’Tis all a question of Fees. The poor man cannot pay a fee, and the doctor gladly treats him. It is balm and sweet incense to the doctor to send back the poor man to his family cured and strong. The rich man can pay, but often won’t.

The question of medical fees is an irritating thing he tries to dismiss from his mind. Usually it is not a very great effort to ensure the dismissal.

The immortal Pope —himseli a cripple and ill all his days—hit off the prevailing popular feeling of his days in the following—

" God aud the Doctor we alike adore, But only when in danger, not before. The danger o’er, both are alike requited, God is forgotten aud the Doctor slighted.”.. To Dr. Arbuthnot he wrote — “ Friend of my life which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song.” Euricus Cordus, who died in 1535, wrote the following epigram—- “ Three faces wear the doctor — when first sought • An angel’s —and a God’s the cure half wrought. But when the cure complete, he seeks his fee The devil looks then less terrible than he.”

Illustrative of the same truth is a story told of Bouvart, the physician. On entering one morning the chamber of a French Marquis whom he had attended through a very dangerous illness, he was accosted by his noble patient in the following terms : ‘Good day to you, Mr Bouvart; I feel quite In spirits, and think my fever has left me.” “l am sure it has,” replied Bouvart drily. “The very first expression you used convinced me of it.”

“ Pray explain yourself. ” “ Nothing is easier. In the first days ot your illness, when your life was in danger, I was your ‘dearest friend’ ; as you began to get better I was your ‘good Bouvart.’ Now lam‘ Mr Bouvart.’ Depend upon it you are quite recovered,”

In fact the affection of a patient for his physician is very like the love a candidate for our Parliament has for an individual elector —he is very grateful to him till he has got all he wants out of him. Sometimes the advice given Is as obnoxious as the fee. A wellknown indolent bon vivant once consulted the famous Dr Abernethy famed equally for his great skill and surpassing rudeness. “What must I do, sir,” asked the indolent courtier, “Live on sixpence a day and earn it, sir,” was the stern reply of Abernethy. The patient had to pay a guinea for this advice. He probably grudged it, and yet ’twas a good guinea’s worth to him had he followed the advice. A hard worked M.D. once wrote the following skit (with apologies to Kipling):—

We bolt our meals, we scamp our sleep, we little know of rest, For four and twenty hours we wait, the patient’s dire behest; You ring us up at midnight, you rush us through the day. You wear our souls and bodies out, and then refuse to pay. For it’s “Doctor this” and “Doctor that,” and “ what a monstrous bill But it’s “Doctor, won’t you save her,” when the little child is ill,” When the little child is ill, my friends, when the little child is ill, It’s “Save her nevermind the cost,” when the little child is ill.