The world we live in is full of wondrous medical gadgets, like stethoscopes, thermometers, and pace makers. Ever wonder how these devices came to be? Join us Fridays as we explore the fascinating world of medical innovations and their history.
Let’s say you get into a car accident. Not something anyone likes to think about, but let’s say you do. An elderly woman passes by in her Buick and notices you in your car, or the tin-foil remnants of what used to be your car, and calls 911. She surveys the car, you, pulls out a Virginia Slim and starts to smoke it nonchalantly.
While she smokes, you’re bleeding everywhere, thinking about your loved ones, wondering who stole your turkey sandwich from the communal fridge at work, hoping that you don’t die, etc. etc.
Then, you hear a distant ringing and in your befuddled state you wonder why someone would chose such an obnoxiously loud, wailing ringtone. Then, you realize it’s not a ringtone, but sirens! From an ambulance!
The paramedics arrive, extricate you from your car, and suddenly you’re under bright lights. Everything’s going to be okay. You arrive at the hospital, get the appropriate care, and are out of there the next day. Four months later you get promoted. No one steals your turkey sandwiches anymore. You live happily ever after.
Why did you get that promotion and all the perks that come with it? Because you’re alive. And why are you alive? Because an ambulance picked you up and delivered you in a timely manner to the nearest hospital.
You have a lot of people to thank for that ambulance ride, among them some eleventh-century monks, a French army surgeon, and a civil war.
People have been carting around the sick and the wounded for some time. The Greeks did it, the Romans did it, but by and large it was a sad affair, with rickety chariots careening over rocky terrain, jostling the passenger, and often causing more harm than good. According to Doctor’s Review, during wartime there were special tents set up on the sidelines which accommodated the wounded and protected them from further injury. (1)
A little later on (well, a lot later on), in the eleventh century, some monks, otherwise known as the Knights of St. John, set up house in Jerusalem. They established a hospital theretofore unparalleled in the Western world, with most of their learning coming from Arab and Greek physicians. (2)
Originally, the Knights only tended to pilgrims journeying to the Holy Land, but things soon heated up. Islam was spreading rapidly through the region, and the Pope was not a fan, and thought he’d put a stop to the expansion by sending over some of his own Christian boys. In the ensuing carnage, the Knights were there, tents pitched next to the battlefield. They would run out with a sort of primitive stretcher and bring the wounded to the tents, and soldiers could also bring in their buddies for treatment, (for which they would receive a small fee). The Knights didn’t discriminate, either; whoever was brought to them was cared for, regardless of religion. (2)
Then, in 1792, a French surgeon named Dominique-Jean Larrey came along. He did for ambulances what Michael Jackson did for the music video. While serving under Napoleon during the Campaign of the Rhine, he noticed that “the wounded were left on the field, until after the engagement, and were then collected…most of the wounded died for want of assistance” (Ortiz). Noticing the speed with which the soldiers maneuvered the wheeled artillery got him to thinking, and he came up with what he called a “flying ambulance,” a durable, light-weight wagon that collected the wounded during the battle and delivered them to tents or to field hospitals. (3)
Before Larrey, wounded soldiers were left on the field, to be collected after hostilities ceased. This method didn’t pose an enormous problem back in sword-fighting days, because “individuals usually took care of their own wounds” (Ortiz). Larrey’s new ambulances boosted the troops’ morale. The soldiers saw their fellow soldiers being cared for, and were reassured. (3)
Fast forward to the American Civil War, where things are as bad as they were in France pre-Larrey. In the Battle of Bull Run an astounding 847 soldiers were killed; over two thousand were wounded. Major Jonathan Letterman, of the Army’s Medical Department, saw that a more efficient ambulatory system would save lives. He conceived of what came to be known as the Letterman Plan, which streamlined the way the army took care of its own. The medical director, and not regimental officers, was to command the ambulances. According to the Reynolds Historical Library, Letterman also “standardized medical supply wagons for each regiment and bulk supply wagons for the brigades.” (4)
Considering its military roots, it’s not surprising that the ambulance’s introduction to American civilian life was engineered by a US army surgeon, Edward Dalton, who founded an ambulance service in Bellevue, Washington in 1869, according to The Hong Kong Journal of Emergency Medicine. (2)
And that’s how the ambulance came to be.
References:
(1) Lateef, F. “Ambulances: From Antiquity to Modern Times.” Hong Kong Journal of Emergency Medicine. 12.4 (2005): n. page. Print. <http://www.uab.edu/reynolds/cwfigs/letterman>.
(2) Rosenhek, Jackie. “No Smooth Ride.” Doctor’s Review. n. page. Web. 23 Nov. 2011. <http://www.doctorsreview.com/history/jan06-history/>.
(3) Ortiz, Jose M. “The Revolutionary Flying Ambulance of Napoleon’s Surgeon.” Army Medical Department Journal. n. page. Web. 23 Nov. 2011.
(4) “Letterman, Jonathan (1824-1872).” UAB Reynolds Historical Library. n. page. Web. 23 Nov. 2011. <http://www.uab.edu/reynolds/cwfigs/letterman>.
