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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s
Page 126
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they agreed. As we were all leaving the office Dr Hartman in his kind manner patted me upon the shoulder and encouraged, "Perhaps we will make medical history. Who knows? And you will probably be the guinea-pig." that I quietly responses with emphatic conviction. "I already am!" That is always an effective way to get me to jump the hoops. To dangle an imaginary rabbit before my eyes; some but promising medical discovery; a bribe hoping for conclusive evidence to clinic a research problem; a means of marking medical history. Any of these quicken my curiosity. What more could we ask for? - to help posterity - especially if it proves the means of providing the medium for helping the patient who is thereby adding to the knowledge of medicine. These men are adroit and ingenious in handling people and cases. They know exactly how to handle me in order to get the desired effects, how to liven my natural inquisitiveness so that I will anticipate the results, rather than the apprehensive in approaching the hump through the hoops. They are a great bunch. I stand erectly. My hat is off to them. It is clutched tightly beneath my arm. That afternoon I presented myself at South, the introvascular desk, to see Dr Horton. I am in his office but a few moments studying intently those impressive parchment documents on his wall when he came in. He thoroughly succeeded in selling me the idea of histamine desensitization by arousing my curiosity and playing upon the chords of my imagination. Moreover the man intrigued my fancy, because as a character, he puzzled me. At first I was unable to make him out, but I found him to be a very kindly soul, straight thinking, direct, with an extraordinarily penetrating and probing mind - decidedly a top scientist. He spent much more time in talking to me and learning me than I had any right to. However I did appreciate what he did for
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they agreed. As we were all leaving the office Dr Hartman in his kind manner patted me upon the shoulder and encouraged, "Perhaps we will make medical history. Who knows? And you will probably be the guinea-pig." that I quietly responses with emphatic conviction. "I already am!" That is always an effective way to get me to jump the hoops. To dangle an imaginary rabbit before my eyes; some but promising medical discovery; a bribe hoping for conclusive evidence to clinic a research problem; a means of marking medical history. Any of these quicken my curiosity. What more could we ask for? - to help posterity - especially if it proves the means of providing the medium for helping the patient who is thereby adding to the knowledge of medicine. These men are adroit and ingenious in handling people and cases. They know exactly how to handle me in order to get the desired effects, how to liven my natural inquisitiveness so that I will anticipate the results, rather than the apprehensive in approaching the hump through the hoops. They are a great bunch. I stand erectly. My hat is off to them. It is clutched tightly beneath my arm. That afternoon I presented myself at South, the introvascular desk, to see Dr Horton. I am in his office but a few moments studying intently those impressive parchment documents on his wall when he came in. He thoroughly succeeded in selling me the idea of histamine desensitization by arousing my curiosity and playing upon the chords of my imagination. Moreover the man intrigued my fancy, because as a character, he puzzled me. At first I was unable to make him out, but I found him to be a very kindly soul, straight thinking, direct, with an extraordinarily penetrating and probing mind - decidedly a top scientist. He spent much more time in talking to me and learning me than I had any right to. However I did appreciate what he did for
Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries
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