Article written by Dr. E. P. Timoney, in Obudu, Nigeria, for the "Cross and Passion College Kilcullen Marian Year" (May 1954) magazine.

Some Careers of Our Past Pupils

IS MEDICINE A CAREER FOR WOMEN?

Here is a controversial subject. It is, however, one on which public opinion is rapidly changing, as people become more accustomed to the presence of women in this hitherto exclusively masculine profession. Certainly in medicinal circles, the woman doctor is taken at brain value, as it were, and is of equal status with her male colleagues. Of course, just as among the men doctors, so among the women are found some very talented and others not so gifted; but this is an individual failing, and not at all due to their femininity.

One wonders if it is a waste of time and money to launch a girl on the long course of Medicine, when she will probably get married as soon as, or shortly after, she has qualified. A factor to consider in this matter is the strength of the vocation in the girl. Few girls express a desire to do Medicine. Many are interested and fascinated to hear about it, but would shudder and say “I could never do that – I can't stand the sight of blood”; while others who fancy a nursing career would not consider taking on the responsibilities of a doctor. In view of this, 'I think that a girl, who decides she would like to do Medicine, is generally serious about the matter, and should be given a hearing.

To those who object to the length of the course and the expense entailed, I answer that it is amazing how much time and money are frittered away on much shorter and less gratifying courses; also, that while the immediate post-qualification salaries are small, they rise very rapidly, and in spite of the numbers qualifying as doctors, there are suitable openings for all.

Another objection frequently raised is that the girl is passing the best years of her life in studying instead of enjoying herself. It is, indeed, true that to complete the course successfully, one must study, and study hard. But there is also plenty of time for play, and College life with its carefree atmosphere of bonhomie and varied social events can be most enjoyable.

If the girl gets married, she has a sound career which she may use, at any time, to supplement the family income, or to support her family in the untoward event of her husband's death. But, “a woman's place is in the home,” they say. That is true. Nevertheless, women doctors can be, and are, excellent wives and mothers, for this is an individual and natural quality, which is either present or not. If it is present, the mere fact of studying Medicine will not stifle it. Further, if she wishes to continue her career, as well as keep a home, there are many branches of Medicine suited to part-time work, which are both interesting and remunerative, and yet enable the mother to spend a good deal of her time at home.

For myself, I have no regrets. Memories of University life are happy ones, in which the examination nightmares seem to fade into the background. Working as a House Surgeon and House Physician in a large English hospital was a pleasant venture, and afforded invaluable practical experience, which is especially helpful to me in my present position, as doctor in a new hospital in a very backward part of Africa.

Our nearest shopping centre in 167 miles away, and our drugs have to come over 300 miles. The daily routine here is theatre work in the morning, before the sun gets too hot, ward rounds, dispensary, lunch and siesta, followed by examination of new patients and serious cases. Then we finish for the day, until a last check-up at bed-time. The hospital serves some five or six different tribes, who trek in from a radius of many miles. These people are very grateful to see the new hospital opening up and a doctor in residence, and tell very sad tales of, perhaps, three or four children of a family having died of, to them, some obscure fever, but probably malaria or pneumonia, which a little treatment may have cured. Pneumonia is very prevalent among the babies, they die, like flies, unless treatment is promptly given.

There are endless tropical ulcers – very large and badly infected, most of them six months or a year old, and dressed with a green leaf, which is tied on with a grass bandage. It is very gratifying to see the amazed and pleased looks on the faces of these patients, when, after some days, the more orthodox bandage is removed, and they see that the ulcer is actually healing. In most cases, it takes so little to cure them, and yet, in the absence of medical facilities they are doomed to watch the ulcers becoming more and more infected, with the resulting decline in general health and happiness.

These poor patients make no distinction between men and and women doctors – they are too pleased to have any doctor. In many cases, the womenfolk do prefer to be examined by a woman doctor, but there is no marked preference and their main difficulty with the latter is on a point of etiquette – how to address the lady. The variety of names is quite amusing – Doctor, Doctress, My doctor, Sir, Mama.

Yes, for those inclined that way, a medical career is a most advisable one. The field of Medicine itself is so unlimited, and there are no ties of employer, or post, or even country. Within reason, these may all be chosen and changed at will. The practical work has a manysidedness of interest, and the experience gained in training is a valuable acquisition for all times. Apart from these considerations, the conscientious practice of Medicine gives, in the struggle to live, an extra opportunity so to live, that, as Cicero aptly put it, we might consider that we have not been born in vain.

EMILY TIMONEY

The following is an extract from the letter which accompanied Emily's article. We thought it would be of interest to our readers. (MMM. Editor)

..... Well, I have left Afikpo (about 160 south of Obudu) where I spent a few months doing hospital work while our hospital here was being finished. It is practically finished now and I have been carrying on with out-patient dispensaries – about 40 to 60 patients a day – accident cases and midwifery. We hope to open the hospital officially on June 25th. At present I have not enough instruments to do much surgery but they should arrive soon, D.V. The hospital consists of 24 bed wards, four private rooms, a 12-bed maternity unit, a large out-patient block and a very nice theatre block. It should be very nice eventually (unless I scare them all off!). Our compound consists of the hospital, a few nurses' houses (mud block and mat roof), Chapel, school, the Fathers' house and the Sisters' house.

Obudu is the back of beyond; it is the farthest north of the M.M.M. Missions and the end of the trail. Our mail has to come 45 miles by bicycle from Ogoja and in the wet season – from April to October – it is very erratic as you can imagine. Our compound is at the foot of the Obudu-Cameroon mountain range and this is still very 'bush' as we say for uncivilised. The place is full of snakes and scorpions; yesterday there were two snakes killed just outside our verandah. The scorpion bite is extremely painful I believe, and we get quite a few victims in, for something to relieve the pain. We have a Leper village attached to the compound too, with about 230 in-patients and as many outpatients. I do a dispensary there every Saturday morning and see any emergency case that might have arisen during the week. The Sisters supervise routine treatment and look after affairs generally.

We had a procession in the village on Ascension Thursday and any who could hobble along walked in it. The lepers themselves did up the village very nicely, lining the route with palm leaves on which they had tied red flowers from the lovely flame of the forest trees. To make up for the lack of flowers, there are the most beautiful flowering trees out here. Fruit is very plentiful, also – pineapple, oranges, limes, mangos, bananas – and its nice to get fresh coconut straight from the tree grated over your sweet!

Our nearest shopping centre is 167 miles away and our drugs have to come over 300 miles. We have no transport here yet, but we hope to get a kitcar when the place develops a bit. For water, luckily, we have a well in the compound and for light we use oil lamps. It gets dark about 6.45 p.m. And after that we wear mosquito boots and always carry a torch in case of snakes. Operations are done by God's light in the daytime and with oil lamps and usually a torch for near work, at night.

The hospital serves five or six tribes who trek in on foot for many miles – 30 miles is not uncommon, and if the patient is very ill they use a kind of hammock, which they carry on their heads. Bicycles give far more service here than they do at home. They use them as taxis with first, second and third-class methods of travel. First-class, the passenger sits on the carrier all the time; second-class, he gets off at the hills and third-class he gets off any time the owner feels like a rest! One of the tribes, the Zivs, is very war-like and has a marked fighting reputation. Its members have all those deep cuts over their faces and bodies, which make them quite fierce looking.

All the tribes speak a different language so we use interpreters all the time. Except for the Fathers, the Sisters, District Officer and myself, there are no other Europeans around Obudu. There are two on a ranch in the mountains about 45 miles away.....