Plate 81 from The anatomy of the arteries of the human body, with its applications to pathology and operative surgery by Richard Quain.
When I look at this illustration, I am truly impressed with the detail of it all. I also find myself unable to shake the thoughts of compartment syndrome, necrotizing fasciitis, and deep vein thrombosis as I inspect its details, says the medical mind that does not know when to quit.
Pee Like a Race Horse.
Where does the saying “pee like a race horse” come from?
Exercise-induced pulmonary hemorrhage (EIPH) is a possible sequelae of very intense aerobic exercise. It is associated with the very extreme and dynamic changes in cardiac function, oxygen intake and vascular transit in the lungs that can cause stresses on the blood vessels leading to loss of integrity.
EIPH can be seen in human athletes but also in racing greyhounds, camels, and most commonly horses.
The results of EIPH are microscopic lung damage, coughing, swallowing of blood, and epistaxis - the bleeding from the nostrils - when it involves the upper respiratory tract. Together, they have a marked negative impact on performance.
Historically, one of the therapies that race horse jockeys used was furosemide, a diuretic. It would be given to horses before a race, increasing voids and reducing fluid volume and thus the vascular strain of EIPH and improving performances.
Because of the dramatic effects of furosemide and its visibility in popular cultural, the phrase “pee like a race horse” was born.
The Hypodermic Syringe by Mariana Silva.
An info-graphic about the history and culture of the hypodermic syringe from its creation to the present day. It is both educational and stylish.
Oh, how the times change, and our understanding with it.
Coca-Cola. It’s one of the most famous examples of patent medicine-turned snack food ever. The original intent of Coca-Cola, as you probably know, was a health drink. It was sold for five cents at soda fountains (a dollar or so in today’s money) because people thought carbonated beverages would increase their wellness. Pemberton’s company also sold Pemberton’s Indian Queen Hair Dye and Pemberton’s Globe Flower Cough Syrup.
Venus de Medici circa early 18th century by Francesco Calenzuoli (1796-1821).
In my first two years of medical training, I was fortunate enough to have didactic anatomical teachings supplemented with laboratory dissections of cadavers.
In the history of medical training, wax models such as the one above were used for teaching anatomy to medical students. Model makers could be consulted to pick out and emphasize body features and thus make the structures and functions easier to understand. In times when few bodies were available for dissection, detailed models would be highly sought after as a substitute.
Today, prosections - carefully dissected body parts - can be infused with paraffin to make them more hardy compared to the formaldehyde-only treated bodies. In many respects, these waxy organs serve the same purpose as its earlier predecessors: allowing generations of medical students an opportunity to learn and study.
Transverse section of the head from Topographisch-anatomischer atlas nach durchschnitten an gefrorenen cadavern by anatomist Wilhelm Braune and artist C. Schmiedel.
This is such a beautiful work of art. Created in the late 19th century, it becomes even more impressive when you discover that it was created through a process of chromolithography, a painstakingly slow process that required both patience and precision.
Dr. Robert S. Ledley, a dentist turned biomedical researcher and computing trailblazer who invented the first CT scanner capable of producing cross-sectional images of any part of the human body, died of Alzheimer’s disease on Tuesday in Kensington, Md. He was 86.
Today’s medicine is made possible by the advances and discoveries of the past. We stand upon the shoulders of giants that have come before. For his work and contributions to the world of medicine and beyond, I thank Dr. Ledley for making my world of medicine possible.
My condolences to his family.
Getting Better: 200 Years of Medicine
This 45-minute documentary explores three remarkable stories of medical progress that have taken place over the course of the long history of the New England Journal of Medicine. In 1812, we had no understanding of infectious disease, surgery was unsanitary and performed without anesthesia, and cancer was unrecognized. Two centuries later, this film tells the story of research, clinical practice, and patient care, and of how we have continued to get better over the last 200 years.