The Surgeon’s Knife

 

 

 

Sometime in the early 1980s video cameras made their appearance in the shops. One of the first in Cork to have them for sale was Murphy’s of Prince’s Street and the late proprietor, Johnny Murphy, quickly enrolled me as the firm’s ‘expert’ in all things photographic, despite never even seeing a video camera before that. Because I was interested in photography, anyway, I went along with the subterfuge for a while and found myself in some interesting situations acting as Johnny’s demonstration cameraman. Certainly the most spectacular was a ‘shoot’ we did in Cork’s Orthopedic Hospital in 1982.

One of the city’s most renowned surgeons was retiring after a long and distinguished career…

One of the city’s most renowned surgeons was retiring after a long and distinguished career and the hospital authorities wished to give him a memorable send-off in the form of a ‘This Is Your Life’, a take-off of a popular TV show of that era. Part of the evening’s show was to be film footage of him in the operating theatre and we were invited up to the Orthopedic Hospital to record his last surgical procedure there – a hip replacement, as we subsequently found out.

Because the video equipment was so unwieldy – the battery alone needed someone to carry it on their shoulder – I roped Johnny in as my ‘assistant’ and we headed up to Gurranabraher on the appointed day. I still couldn’t believe that we were going to be admitted to a ‘live’ theatre but we were greeted like royalty by the surgeon and his staff and ushered in to the preparatory area where we were shown how to scrub-up and fitted with green coloured capes, gowns and gloves until we were undistinguishable from the rest of the theatre staff. Even our shoes were covered in protective material before we were, finally, allowed in to the theatre proper to set up the camera.

The patient, swathed in green sheets, was already on the operating table and, to my surprise, the surgeon took his seat by the bedside, with his two assistant at either elbow. I had always assumed the surgeon stood by the operating table but I have since been assured me that it is quite common, for some procedures, to have the surgeon seated. Having consulted some notes, a sheet was partially drawn back and a pale limb exposed to the bright lights overhead. We were in business.

As soon as the scalpel was drawn across the patient’s hip…..Johnny crumbled in a dead faint

I was observing the action through the camera monitor, so I was seeing everything in black & white but my ‘assistant’, Johnny, was spared none of the gory detail. As soon as the scalpel was drawn across the patient’s hip to expose the hip joint, Johnny crumbled in a dead faint on the theatre floor beside me! I tried to ignore him and continued filming as he was quickly & quietly removed from the scene by two male attendants, his legs dragging behind him on the floor. Think “Saving Private Ryan!” and you have the picture!

Nobody else batted an eyelid and the operation continued as if nothing had happened. Soon I, too, began to come under pressure as the process of dislocating the hip joint began. When the sawing started I could take no more – remember I was only watching in black & white: I daren’t look at the ‘live’ action! – and I staggered from the room and joined Johnny, who was being fed sips of water as he came-to in an ante-room.

We left the hospital that afternoon two quiet boys, both with a greater appreciation of orthopedics: but we never looked at that particular film again!