| Administrative History | Dr. Younie was a former Aberdeen University student |
| Description | [Supplementary recording to interview number 51 made by Dr Dorothy Younie in August 1988. ]
Transcript of recording:
Dear Colin McLaren
I have not forgotten that you asked me months ago now whether I could add to Mrs Olson's tape recording about my own remembered student days, perhaps mentioning any ranklings affecting myself such as other students being better off than oneself. Such reminiscences have certainly surfaced over contemporaries being better able to dress better, travel further afield, allowed to stay out later at night. It don't seem to have mattered so much nor lasted so long as to spoil the plate of good soup of which Brian McCabe writes. You're probably much more familiar with Brian McCabe than I am, but in your assembling of the many student day tapes of the many diverse atoms covering the many and diverse times is there not common agreement about the exuding nourishment from the plates of good soup which our university days provided and which on looking back we couldn't have done or been without right now. Painful discoveries there certainly were, taking much longer to accept. There was no escaping from myself that I had no music in me, I couldn't sing and tunes without words made no impact, they were there only when associated with the words of some hymns and Scots songs. Maddening also it remained that I was just a middle of the road student exam wise coming away with only a bundle of DPs. Any ease at acquiring foreign languages was a built-in gap too - some enjoyment only from the spoken word in whatever language and first recalled from schooldays when the excellent Latin master Mr Georgieson at the High School for Girls in Aberdeen always read aloud slowly with reverberating beat and timing the Latin sonnets we were later to translate. About the same stage a few slow learning French pupils, of which I was one, had the chance of switching to the beginnings of German with a never to be forgotten inimitable, guttural Heir Hein, a naturalised German. At the end of our first year when no exams had been forthcoming we enquired how we were to compare with our classmates busy with French ones. "Ach" said he "you could put all the German you know on a thrupenny bit".
Much more humiliating it was to become aware that medical students were considered uneducated, which justifiably may still be the case, certainly one could enter medicine with the minimum of academic qualifications provided Latin was indicated and this enabled one, at that time, 1916 for myself, to begin the five year medical curriculum with a summer term having only two degree subjects to cover. An easy launching for those with little know how of science from schooldays nor how to get ahead on one's own. No doubt this could explain the upishness of arts and science students since several earlier medical students had often had other degrees first as had practically all our professors and lecturers and also several of the men returning after service in the 14-18 war who were now embarking on medicine or continuing from where they had left off to join up. Nevertheless more women were entering medicine as a first degree and faculties were not always strictly divided and we did share early classes with some arts and science students. Most societies too were open to all and no distinction existed on the games side. Nevertheless I don't recall many contributions to Alma Mater coming from medical students except those of the unfailing Eric Linklater with his wit and ease and controversy while still a medical student. Thank goodness his desertion was to arts and praise be he did not desert the university nor the university him. One society, memory tells me, that was strictly a men's society was the medical society not open to women. A women's medical society, however, must have got going for it was there unforgettably that I first faced any sort of gathering to speak or rather closely read something long prepared entitled 'Medical Men of Letters', no doubt beginning with Keats including Osler, several others and surely ending with John Brown of Pet Marjorie and Rab and his friends.
Undoubtedly a recollection of what was happening in the early post First War years as the university took on new life there will be mention of the success and enthusiasm for the Greek play Antigone and its moving spirit, Professor John Harrower. Performed in the Music Hall on a few successive nights it caught on for a large number of students from all faculties, large numbers being required for the chorus and crowd scenes as well as for the few elite with named parts and acting ability. Both outside and inside the university it was in the air. For myself it was only vicariously through close and gifted friends that I was sharing the excitement, the ups and downs of rehearsals and their demanding late nights, until I too was overcome by the infection, the novelty and the tremendous applause at the end of the last performance. About this time finals were approaching and there were also one or two hockey trials coming along, and as far as the Antigone was concerned the surprise was having to make up my mind not whether or not I had voice or acting ability but the face for a part. Out of the blue one morning I found myself over in Professor Harrower's house looking at an array of drawings and pictures of female Greek faces. Professor Harrower evidently considering that to some I bore some resemblance for one of the speaking parts. Hence the invitation to the Harrower household in College Bounds for the first time. As illustrated many of these Greek features were broken, chipped or nearly absent and perhaps the striking one then when so unfamiliar as a bit awry anatomically. The outcome was that although I left saying I was going to think about it overnight, I am pretty sure that the fact of not feeling at all flattered, my answer was "no" for any appearance in the Antigone. There was an aura attaching to King's and its professors and other dignitaries in these days in Old Aberdeen. Nevertheless, dare I mention, that once in University Road I found myself with Mrs Trail walking some distance behind Mrs Harrower. It was never expected that, by the then growing up youngsters in the High Street or Chanonry and around, that any notice or recognition of them could be or would be taken by such august personages. Dare I mention that once in University Road I found myself with Mrs Trail walking some distance behind Mrs Harrower. Mrs Trail was the wife of the professor of botany who at one time combined being professor with being Provost in Old Aberdeen before Old Aberdeen merged with Aberdeen City. Gratefully Mrs Trail did take notice of Old Aberdeen youngsters, including them with her own and seeing to it that when the university staff tennis court was not in use in vacation time there could be practice there for young learners, and also there were mixed hockey matches and the Christmas holidays again arranged by Mrs Trail on the empty pitches. On this occasion, no doubt we were walking along after a tennis practice, ahead of us was the kenspeckle unforgettable figure of Mrs Harrower in long black coat or cloak, flowing draperies, enormous black hat and no doubt black silk stockings and buckled shoes, and she was proceeding with [a] leisured, dignified walk ahead of us. As we followed Mrs Trail whispered "just look and see if there is a hole in the heel of her stocking", and there was.
For oneself the impact of the 1914/18 war began before first student days. It so happened that as regards August 1914 there cannot but be vivid, person recollection. My father, Peter Mitchell, a general practitioner, had for some time, like several other Aberdeen doctors, been a territorial in the RAMC having already arrived at being a Major and soon to be a Lieutenant Colonel with the Aberdeen unit. August the 3rd was his birthday and early that day he arrived in uniform from a camp in Aldershot to join the family holidaying in Carrbridge, Invernesshire. We learned that war with Germany was in the air and that a telegram or some message within a few hours was likely to arrive which was going to mean that he would have to leave for Aberdeen immediately in order to have a hospital in readiness for probably wounded soldiers already. Details surfaced that that day included golf with my father, that I beat him for the first time, there was some cricket in a field that followed and somehow later on we were sitting up over supper much later than usual having heard that next day we would probably see a train go past, as indeed we did, the railway being quite near, which might or might not be carrying soldier patients. Moreover we also heard that the hospital would be our own old school. Of course we didn't believe the story at all, the war was going to be over by the end of August, neither did the grown-ups seem to be taking this in either, that the war would certainly be over by the end of the month. Nevertheless when on returning home my father was indeed established in our headmistress's room and the classrooms were already filling with Belgian soldiers. It was later I suppose that on being able to look into one or two of the wards the smell of usol the only medicine that was possible therefore at that time for treatment of their extensive and infected wounds. There was no other remedy available. One also recalls that attempts were being made to find people able to speak Belgian and talk with these young and sad looking and very ill young patients far from home. As for school, High School pupils con continued in an assortment of west end households quickly got ready and this must have necessitated as much or more organising than having a hospital for which no doubt there had been much hush hush planning beforehand. With home a doctor's household, living as deliberately chosen to be within easy reach of patients in Old Aberdeen and around and extending in one direction to Torry, and in another some distance over the Bridge of Don, where as yet there were no nearer resident GPs. It was inevitable that one grew up knowing about a GP's disturbed nights, crowded waiting rooms, long consulting hours, irregular meal times or meals often kept in the oven. And although one never heard what was wrong with all these people, the word "confinement," a recurring mystery. An ear to the ground away from home probably came to begin with from an up-town exhibition for school children on tuberculosis, its association with ill ventilated houses, lack of fresh air, no mention it seems of infected milk or the infectivity from other patients. No mention it seems of poor diet too but with sanitoria more often in other countries a new word. Then there was the introduction of Lloyd George's panel system, the first step towards medical insurance. Both doctors and patients were suspicious for a long time of having their independence questioned or interfered with. At last there was acceptance on both sides, panel doctors and panel patients came into being.
By that time some enthusiasm had erupted for the suffragettes and something was wrong somewhere when only men could crowd in at home to sign on, women being entirely left out. More awareness probably came with finding oneself a Girl Guide, no less than a 1st patrol leader in Aberdeen of the Thistle Patrol. Again this happened through the old town where the first guiding inspired by the governess of an only daughter at Balgownie Lodge. It was there on Saturday afternoons that indoors and out the guide laws were in force as to how the daily good turns, smiling and singing whatever befell, and of course the first aid badge was the first to be obtained.
In this record this part should include what was implicit in looking forward to being a medical student which was that although one never remembers it really being explicitly mentioned, one was never expected to make money out of illness. Adding to the plate of good soup for always in universities were the friendships. These including too a few companions from other countries for the first time, from South Africa, from India, from America. One or two from south of the border and then another one or two from the islands. For this record however the chief nourishers of student days were our teachers. Long as it may have taken to recognise after student days were over our gain in practice from their teaching and far reaching outlook for us. This centred on the relationship between doctor and patients. No student taught by the professor of medicine in our own days, Ashley MacIntosh, will have forgotten his courtesy towards patients in ward rounds, the same standard expected and implicitly obtained from all others around. There was no wriggling out of imperfect answers to his searching questions of, the students. If written answers were required legible handwriting came before content and on the introduction of new patients to the ward the GP's letter of reference came first in the investigation in every detail. In the senior years it sometimes happened, especially regarding nervous diseases, when hereditary elements might be present and not mentioned beforehand that students investigating the case in pairs could have a home visit arranged for them with other members of the family whose acceptance had been sought. It was ones own rather anxiety making responsibility when as an assistant for a short time in the family practice and a home visit from a consultant seemed to be helpful, or was asked for by the family to be there, when the specialist at his examination and thereafter included in the decision making in the parlour with one or more members of the family. How this added to the experience and teaching for oneself and one cannot understand how any domestic consultation can take place nowadays, as one hears does happen, without the GP being present. Moreover if nursing home care might be preferred to home care for further action or investigation the cost of this was always given or offered for further reassurance. Two forward-looking professors, Ashley and Matthew Hay are well remembered on that account.
One winter evening, it must have been in 1920, when there was shortly to be a special graduation for those men who were nearly at the end of their completed medical course after the services and impatient to be on the field - doctors post-war were few in any case - and along with these and those of us about to finish at Easter 21, were included and were invited down to Woolmanhill to hear about the joint prospect for the Aberdeen hospitals which they had been planning and putting forward and which is now of course Foresterhill. Ashley opened the meeting, I remember, with the old quote "your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions". Their dreams were as much in their teaching as in their plans for the young.
As one neared final years one did not have to wait until after graduation for some useful experience of patients in the outside world. Living at home in the holidays there could be daily mornings at the Guest Row dispensary with the senior GP or junior specialist in charge for all sorts of ailments. Also one does not forget that my first £2 per week was earned at the seaman's surgery on the quay when invited by Dr Croll, a senior physician, to take over the visit of the fishermen and other sailors while he was on holiday, most of whom were suffering from painful and distressing seawater boils and blisters on their forearms for which the only treatment was daily fomentation. From Dr Croll I learned how to wring out pink lint properly before wrapping round the green oiled silk. Of course it was on one's own that one was there and indeed I suppose that some of the lonely sailors rather enjoyed the temporary helper as much as the relief from the fomentations. I kept the ring, a red ruby it had, which one gave me for some time. Then on holiday was Dr Crombie of the dental department at Woolmanhill whose chief work was the extraction of painful teeth. After some instruction on the different conditions to be expected and the appropriate forceps to be used and mouthwashes etc., I found myself taking over another succession of mornings. Against the names of patients which had to be entered and who would come and also the form of treatment given there was an occasional cross on the record. This Dr Crombie told me was added when a thank you had been volunteered. The only patient I remember against whose name I put a cross, indeed I put two, was a nearly toothless old gypsy women, probably from the Denburn, who had two front teeth almost hanging out which were bothering her. Fingers might have been an easy extraction but the right forceps were carefully selected and the job was nearly, I suppose, painlessly completed. Then there came a warm grin, a pat on the shoulder and a "thank you" and adding, "may you find a good man" which eventually I did.
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