Cherry Ames 22 Rural Nurse (8 page)

“So this is what they took,” Dr. Hal said. “If only people would consult a doctor, and promptly! If only they wouldn’t think they can diagnose their ailments and prescribe for themselves. The claims on the label are fantastic. Listen to this—in fi ne print.” Hal read aloud:

“Cures arthritis, fl u, cancer, tuberculosis, falling hair, tiredness—” The young doctor added ironically, “And just about everything that affl icts the human race.”

“I never heard of this preparation, did you?” Cherry asked.

Dr. Hal shook his head. “I’ll bet you this is the trou-blemaker. I think we ought to report it to the Food and Drug Administration.”

“I thought of that, too,” Cherry said.

They discussed what they had better do. Iowa main-tained several health agencies to protect its population. However, the pedlar had sold the remedy also to Mrs. Swaybill’s cousins in Missouri; that constituted interstate commerce and made it a matter for the United States Food and Drug Administration, operating under the Federal Pure Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act.

The job of FDA, the Food and Drug Administration, was to stop the manufacture and distribution of medicines, medical devices, foods, and cosmetics that were unhealthy or impure or worthless or misbranded.

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FDA could take violators into the federal courts, where they would be liable for heavy fi nes and jail sentences.

FDA thus protected the population against harming themselves.

Honest and responsible manufacturers cooperated with the Food and Drug Administration, checking their new products and label directions with the FDA experts before offering them to the public. But not all manufacturers were honest. That was why the FDA had to be a scientifi c crime-detection agency. Anyone, a doctor or a druggist or a private citizen, if he had serious doubts about a product, could report it to the FDA. Their inspectors were at work all over the United States, and FDA had branch offi ces in many cities.

“The branch nearest us,” Dr. Hal said, “is in Des Moines. But I wonder whether we oughtn’t notify the state health authorities fi rst?”

“I’ll notify Miss Hudson, too,” Cherry said. “When are you going to report this awful ‘remedy’?”

“Right now,” Dr. Hal said, and picked up the telephone. He told the operator that he wanted to put through a call to the State Department of Health in Des Moines. “I know the offi ces close at fi ve or fi ve thirty, Operator,” Dr. Hal said, “but there’s probably an emergency line always open.”

He and Cherry waited while the call to the state capitol went through. It took several minutes. Finally Dr. Hal reached someone, for he said:

“Hello! This is Dr. Hal Miller, county doctor at Sauk, and I want to report a suspicious new medicine.” He 68
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listened for a while, then said, “Oh. Well, I’m not surprised, I’m calling so late in the day, and now it’s the weekend. Yes, I’ll call again tomorrow morning. … No, I don’t know too much about this medicine. … No, I don’t know as much as that, not yet. …” He listened again. “That’s a good idea. Will do.” After another pause, he said, “Thanks very much,” and hung up.

“What’s ‘a good idea’?” Cherry asked.

“Well, you heard that I’m to call back and try to reach the appropriate health offi cers. The man who talked to me suggested that until a contact can be set up, we get all the information we can about this remedy. Who makes it and where, and what goes into it. Of course they’ll make the investigation, but anything we can tell them will save them a lot of time and get this remedy off the market that much faster.”

“I see,” Cherry said. “What do you want to do with this jar of the remedy, Doctor?”

“I’ll keep it. It’s evidence to hand over to the health authorities.” Dr. Hal picked up the jar as gingerly as if it contained dynamite. “Cherry, I’d like you to be present when I telephone again tomorrow morning. There might be some questions I couldn’t answer, but you could.”

“I’ll be back here fi rst thing tomorrow morning,” Cherry said, “Saturday or no Saturday.”

“Good. Now I’ll walk you home.”

c h a p t e r v i

Medical Detective Work

on saturday morning hal and cherry met in the county health offi ce at nine o’clock. Hal got on the telephone and stayed there. He held the phone so that Cherry could listen, too.

Hal had diffi culty, because it was the weekend, in reaching the state health people in Des Moines. He did reach one offi ce and reported the harmful medicine, but was told:

“That’s a situation for our State Department of Pharmacy and Narcotics to handle, Dr. Miller. Hold on while I put your call through to them.” A woman secretary answered, and listened while Hal again stated his case. The woman said:

“The person for you to get in touch with is Mr. Henderson, the Director of the Department of Pharmacy and Narcotics. I’m not sure whether I can locate him 69

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AMES,

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for you on a Saturday. Let me try, and I’ll call you back within an hour.”

Cherry and Hal worked with their patients’ case records, but even so, the time dragged. At ten o’clock the telephone rang. Hal answered it. The operator said,

“Des Moines calling Dr. Miller.”

“Hello?” Hal said expectantly. “Mr. Henderson?”

“No, sir, it’s the secretary again. I’ve learned that Mr. Henderson has gone out of town on an inspection trip, and will be home late today. I can give you his home telephone number, if you like.”

“Yes, I’ll take it,” Dr. Hal said, and wrote it down.

“Thanks. I’ll call late this afternoon.” He hung up and said to Cherry: “Delays. Can’t be helped on a weekend, I suppose.” He thought for a minute. “You know, Cherry, the State Department of Health man last evening asked me to get all the information I could about this remedy.

While we’re waiting to reach Mr. Henderson, why don’t we ask a laboratory to analyze this concoction?”

“What lab have you in mind?” Cherry asked.

“The hospital lab in Iowa City. Are you free to drive upstate with me? Right away?”

Cherry nodded. Dr. Hal picked up the jar of the remedy that Mrs. Swaybill had given her.

By starting at once and taking short cuts, Dr. Hal and Cherry reached Iowa City by late morning. They parked in front of University Hospital and went directly to its laboratory. Dr. Hal, as a county health offi cer, knew the chief laboratory technician, Nan Cross, a woman in a starched white coat. He introduced her to Cherry.

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“I’m always glad to meet a county nurse,” Miss Cross said. “What can the lab do for you, Doctor?” Dr. Hal Miller handed her the jar of Nature’s Herb Cure, with the request that she use only a little of it for biochemical analysis and return the rest to him.

The technician nodded, poured some into a container, and gave back the jar. Then Dr. Miller described for Miss Cross the symptoms of his fl u patients who had

“treated” themselves with the doubtful patent medicine. “Of course I’ve reported this concoction to the health authorities,” he said. While he talked, Cherry glanced around the well equipped laboratory.

Here on long tables were racks of test tubes, some frothing, some with frozen materials, microscopes, slides, Petri dishes full of cultures. Near the windows were cages of white mice. In the next room was the blood bank. All of this equipment was familiar to Cherry, for no hospital could function without laboratory technicians. These specialists were highly trained in biology, chemistry, and biochemistry, and performed laboratory tests through which physicians could reach an accurate diagnosis.

“I’ve been treating these special patients not only for fl u, but for—Well, the disturbance acted like some kind of poisoning,” Dr. Miller was saying to Miss Cross.

“Treatments against poisoning have helped so far. It was only late yesterday that Miss Ames was able to obtain this sample of the cure all.”

“I’ll run tests on white mice,” Miss Cross said. “We’ll study how this patent medicine affects them, since, as 72
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you know, mice and men have the same physical make-up. I’ll give the medicine to mice which I’ll infect with fl u virus, and I’ll also give it to healthy mice, as a control test.” She added, “It will take a few days for results to develop.”

“This patent medicine produces discomfort fast,” Dr. Miller said. “I urgently need your reports so I’ll be able to prescribe the most effective treatment for patients, and also I’d like to report the results of the tests to the health authorities. Can’t you start the tests right now and let us have an answer by Monday or Tuesday?” The lab technician bit her lip, fi guring. “I’ll speed things up, Doctor. As soon as I have some answers, I’ll phone you or Miss Ames at your county health offi ce.”

“That’s fi ne. Thanks very much,” Dr. Hal said. “Is there a chemist here today?”

Miss Cross said no, but there was a commercial chemistry laboratory in town, Greer’s, which the medical personnel, food processors, local druggists, and the university trained farmers relied on.

Greer’s Laboratories was in an offi ce building.

Dr. Thomas Greer, a tall, greying man wearing a lab coat and rubber gloves, stopped his experiment to talk with Dr. Hal and Cherry. Cherry felt at home in the quiet laboratory with its racy odors and its tables and shelves piled with big pieces of equipment, racks, fl asks, reference books, and typed reports.

“A breakdown of the elements in this patent medicine?’’ the chemist said, as Dr. Hal handed him the jar.

He unscrewed the top and sniffed its contents. “What

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do you think is in this mixture? After all, this could be any one of a thousand different things.” Cherry remembered that the pedlar who sold the stuff lived in the woods; he picked berries and herbs, and sold those, too. She recalled Phoebe Grisbee’s and Amy Swaybill’s faith in herbs as cure-alls.

“Mightn’t the remedy contain some sort of herb that grows wild in these parts?” Cherry suggested. “As one of the ingredients?”

“The label does mention herbs,” Dr. Greer said.

“Well, we’ll test for an herb. My two assistants are off today—if either of you’d like to help a bit.”

“We’re rusty,” Dr. Hal warned him. But Cherry said,

“Helping with an analysis is exciting—like detective work!”

The chemist smiled at her. “Exactly how I feel, too.

Let’s start.”

First Dr. Greer made a litmus paper test checking for acid base balance. Then he took a clean glass test tube, poured what was left of Nature’s Herb Cure into it, handed the jar back to Hal, and placed the test tube on a Bunsen burner with its blue-violet fl ame. Cherry sniffed as the liquid bubbled and gradually separated into its component elements. It certainly was smelly.

Dr. Greer pointed out a sediment that settled at the bottom of the test tube.

“We’ll set up an experiment with the sediment,” the chemist said. First he examined it under the microscope.

“I think this is panacin.” Then he mixed it with another chemical, to see how it would react, and tried it with 74
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AMES,

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other catalysts. “Yes, this is panacin,” Dr. Greer said.

“It’s the main constituent of this patent medicine.” Cherry and Dr. Hal were not sure what panacin was.

Dr. Greer explained that it was an oily, gluey substance derived from the
Panax
or Ginseng plant. He said it could slightly soothe irritated mucous membrane. It also had a slightly stimulating effect as a tonic.

“Why don’t you look it up?” the chemist said, and pointed out a copy of
The Merck Index of Chemicals
and Drugs
on the bookshelf. This was a standard reference book giving a list of drugs and chemicals.

“I’d like to look it up,” Cherry said, and took down the heavy volume. She turned to “ginseng” and read that panacin is derived from the fi ve leaf (quinquefolium)
Panax
or ginseng plant. The chemical constituents of the plant are panacin, sugar, starch, mucilage—Cherry skipped over other ingredients in the long list. She read that
The Pharmacopeia of the United States of America
had recognized ginseng 1840-1880 as an aromatic bit-ters with a mildly soothing and stimulating effect. But at present, and since about 1906 when the Federal Pure Food and Drug Act was enacted, ginseng had no offi cial value.
It’s like herb tea
, Cherry thought,
nearly
worthless as a drug
.

Then she consulted a botany book and read in surprise:

“American
Panax
or ginseng, a perennial, is a small, leafy, originally woodland plant. It is native to the United States; it also grows in China. In early days in America, ginseng hunters, even a century ago, found

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large patches of ginseng where for hundreds of years the plant had grown untouched.” She went on reading. “Ginseng is now rare and little known. Some wild patches can still be found, growing in the temperate-weather zone around the Mississippi River, particularly in Illinois and Iowa.”

Particularly in Iowa
! “Its stalks carry fi ve leaf clusters. In September it has bright crimson berries. It has a forked root like a human fi gure, two to four inches long, translucent and brittle. Ginseng grows wild and can be transplanted, or it can be cultivated. Ginseng requires very little care or nurture.” Why, this was the plant growing in profusion at the abandoned farm! The distinctive plant neither she nor Jane had ever seen before! The plant that had been common enough a hundred years ago—
A century ago
, Cherry thought.
The secret of the old farm dated back
a hundred years or more
. Cherry turned the page and found a detailed pen and ink drawing of the
Panax
or ginseng leaves and root. She recognized it as exactly the same plant! She had never seen ginseng growing anywhere else around here. Nor had Dr. Hal, when she excitedly asked him.