Antarctica, 1961: A Soviet Surgeon Has to Remove His Own Appendix

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Antarctica, 1961: A Soviet Surgeon Has to Remove His Own Appendix

Mar 14 2011, 11:15 AM ET By Alexis Madrigal

If you think House and the guy who James Franco played in 127 Hours are tough, you haven't heard of Leonid Rogozov.

In 1961, Rogozov was stationed at a newly constructed Russian base in Antarctica. The 12 men inside were cut off from the outside world by the polar winter by March of that year. In April, the 27-year-old Rogozov began to feel ill, very ill. His symptoms were classic: he had acute appendicitis. "He knew that if he was to survive he had to undergo an operation," the British Medical Journal recounted. "But he was in the frontier conditions of a newly founded Antarctic colony on the brink of the polar night. Transportation was impossible. Flying was out of the question, because of the snowstorms. And there was one further problem: he was the only physician on the base."

There was no question that he'd have to operate. The pain was intolerable and he knew he was getting worse. He recorded his thoughts in his journal:

I did not sleep at all last night. It hurts like the devil! A snowstorm whipping through my soul, wailing like a hundred jackals. Still no obvious symptoms that perforation is imminent, but an oppressive feeling of foreboding hangs over me ... This is it ... I have to think through the only possible way out: to operate on myself ... It's almost impossible ... but I can't just fold my arms and give up.

Operating mostly by feeling around, Rogozov worked for an hour and 45 minutes, cutting himself open and removing the appendix. The men he'd chosen as assistants watched as the "calm and focused" doctor completed the operation, resting every five minutes for a few seconds as he battled vertigo and weakness. He recalled the operation in a journal entry:

I worked without gloves. It was hard to see. The mirror helps, but it also hinders -- after all, it's showing things backwards. I work mainly by touch. The bleeding is quite heavy, but I take my time -- I try to work surely. Opening the peritoneum, I injured the blind gut and had to sew it up. Suddenly it flashed through my mind: there are more injuries here and I didn't notice them ... I grow weaker and weaker, my head starts to spin. Every 4-5 minutes I rest for 20-25 seconds. Finally, here it is, the cursed appendage! With horror I notice the dark stain at its base. That means just a day longer and it would have burst and ...

At the worst moment of removing the appendix I flagged: my heart seized up and noticeably slowed; my hands felt like rubber. Well, I thought, it's going to end badly. And all that was left was removing the appendix ... And then I realised that, basically, I was already saved.

Two weeks later, he was back on regular duty. He died at the age of 66 in St. Petersburg in 2000.

Just a little reminder that humans can complete some pretty amazing physical feats when their lives hang in the balance.

Linky (http://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2011/03/antarctica-1961-a-soviet-surgeon-has-to-remove-his-own-appendix/72445/)

[mightymanx]

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jerri_Nielsen


Dr. Jerri Lin Nielsen (née Cahill; March 1, 1952 – June 23, 2009) was an American physician with extensive ER experience,[3] who in 1998 was hired to spend a year at the Amundsen–Scott South Pole Station, as the station's only doctor.[4]

During the southern winter, at a time when the station is physically cut off from the rest of the world, she developed breast cancer. Nielsen teleconferenced with medical personnel in the United States, and had to operate on herself in order to extract tissue samples for analysis. A military plane was later dispatched to the pole to airdrop equipment and medications. Her condition remained life-threatening, and the first plane to land at the station in the spring was sent several weeks earlier than planned, despite adverse weather conditions, to bring her to the U.S. as soon as possible. Her ordeal attracted a great amount of attention from the media, and Nielsen later wrote an autobiographical book recounting her story.[5]

Despite the extraordinary efforts of Nielsen and supporting crew and rescue team, her cancer was not cured by the available treatments. It recurred seven years later, eventually causing her death in 2009 from brain metastatic disease, eleven years after initial diagnosis.

Nielsen's saga began in 1998, when she was hired for a one-year contract to serve as the medical doctor at the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station on Antarctica. This isolated region sees only one sunrise and one sunset per year, and experiences almost total darkness for the six months of winter, during which the temperature remains steady at around −60 °C (−76 °F).[6] During this period, the station is also completely cut off from the world, as no planes fly there between mid-February and late October. The "winterover" crew is thus stranded and must be entirely autonomous.

In the course of her work at the research station, Nielsen discovered a lump in her breast. After consulting US physicians via e-mail and video conference, she performed a biopsy upon herself. The results were however inconclusive, because the material used on site was too outdated to allow for a precise diagnosis.[citation needed]

The National Science Foundation decided to send a military plane to airdrop supplies and medication for her treatment. Such airdrops had been a yearly event several years earlier, when the station was run by the US Navy, but had later been stopped.[7] The plane didn't attempt a landing because its skis would risk sticking to the ice, and its fuel and hydraulic lines would rapidly freeze, dooming the craft. South Pole workers lit fires in barrels in the Antarctic night to mark out a drop zone. An Air Force C-141 cargo plane, staged out of Christchurch, overflew the Pole in the darkness of mid-July, and sent six bundles of supplies and medical equipment parachuting toward the station.[8]

Using the parachuted supplies, Nielsen began her treatment, following the advice of her doctors over the satellite link. She first began a hormone treatment. She trained her South Pole colleagues, to form a small team that could assist her in the procedures. A new biopsy performed with the airdropped equipment allowed better scans to be sent to the US, where it was confirmed that the cells were indeed cancerous.[9] With the help of her makeshift medical team, Nielsen then began self-administering chemotherapy.[9]

In October, a LC-130 Hercules was sent several weeks ahead of schedule, despite the risks inherent to flying in such cold weather, to bring her back home as soon as possible. Another crew member, who had suffered a hip injury during the winter, was also evacuated.

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