On my first firm as a student at “Barts” in the early 1950s I was taught so much more than surgery by two eminent surgeons of the day. One small and seemingly insignificant piece of advice was that painful cracks around the mouth should be treated with Ung Hydrarg Ammon Dil.
I never forgot this cumbersome name and when, some years later, my family was bothered by such cracks, either beside the mouth or at the tips of the fingers, we had no problem in obtaining the ointment from the local chemist. A minute quantity applied for a day or two invariably healed the cracks. There was no need to get a further supply because the tiny jar lasted, it seemed, for ever. However, it did eventually run out, and the chemist reported that he was no longer allowed to supply it, because the mercury content was potentially dangerous. He showed me his remaining supply and gave it to me. It now sits in my bathroom cabinet (out of reach of children, of course), and I supply my friends with tiny quantities when asked. All are amazed at its efficacy.
I have now found a new use for it. In recent weeks I had been bothered by a small skin break on my shin which stubbornly refused to heal and conjured up fears of an incipient varicose ulcer. Twice daily application of a tiny quantity of the ointment resulted in complete healing after three days.
Curious about the description of this magic healer, I took down Martindale's Pharmacopoeia (1952 edition), which was given to my husband by the chemist in the village in which we were living in 1956. It reads thus: “Unguentum Hydrargyri Ammoniati Dilutum. White precipitate ointment. (Note. This ointment is only half the strength of the BP 1932 preparation). Used chiefly as a parasiticide in skin conditions such as impetigo, chronic eczema and ringworm.”
So much has changed in medicine. Surgeons no longer instruct their students in the use of ointments with long Latin names, some really effective remedies have slipped into disuse, and doctors are given very different presents by their patients. The inscription in the Pharmacopoeia reads: “Would you kindly accept this as a very small token of appreciation of your wonderful kindness to dear old Dad.”
Footnotes
We welcome articles up to 600 words on topics such as A memorable patient, A paper that changed my practice, My most unfortunate mistake, or any other piece conveying instruction, pathos, or humour. If possible the article should be supplied on a disk. Permission is needed from the patient or a relative if an identifiable patient is referred to. We also welcome contributions for “Endpieces,” consisting of quotations of up to 80 words (but most are considerably shorter) from any source, ancient or modern, which have appealed to the reader.
