Medicine: Stout Heart

For 30 years, kindly, mellow-voiced Dr. Alexander Nicoll of New York’s Fordham Hospital waited to try out an operation which he had carefully studied step by step from texts and charts. His opportunity came last April when attendants wheeled in Patrolman William Manning, who had been stabbed through the heart, was on the verge of death.

Dr. Nicoll confidently grasped his knife, made an incision along the side to the breastbone, along the breastbone for eight inches, then straight through the third, fourth, fifth and sixth ribs. Pushing back the ribs he saw the chest cavity flooded with blood, drained it out with a suction machine like a little hand vacuum cleaner. Then he picked up Manning’s heart and held it faintly fluttering in his hand. The pericardium (membrane enveloping the heart) was bruised and a large pool of blood was trapped in the heart, impeding its motion. Dr. Nicoll slit through the pericardium, and the blood oozed out. At once William Manning’s heart leaped in Dr. Nicoll’s hand “like a fish out of water.”

It was immediately replaced and the pericardium stitched with catgut. A small opening was left in which Dr. Nicoll inserted a rubber drainage tube. Then he tucked the ribs back in place with 50 stitches. A week later, after several blood transfusions, the drainage tube was removed. For five weeks Patrolman Manning remained in an oxygen tent, and for several months he was given massages to stimulate his heart muscles. Last week Manhattan papers reported that Patrolman Manning was well enough to attend Magistrate’s Court for the hearing of his case.

Said Dr. Nicoll to astounded reporters: “All the stitches have been absorbed into the heart tissue and cannot possibly cause any trouble. His diet … is carefully regulated to build up red blood corpuscles. He isn’t allowed to smoke or drink, though he is permitted to walk upstairs and do other things which persons with weak hearts should not do.” Furthermore, he added, the 27-year-old patrolman has excellent chances for long life. Said jubilant William Manning: “I can hardly wait to get back on my beat. I drive my own car . . . and even play a little ball occasionally with the neighborhood kids.”