On page A5 in the Aug. 20 newspaper, Daniel J. Stone spoke of a battle with microbes (commentary). It makes me remember, so long ago, coming up to the small room that served as the ward nursing station. It was filled with nurses looking across the hall to a tiny private room as a woman patient was being given a massive dose of penicillin. What would happen? She had a major infection. She was unconscious. She was dying.

There was really nothing to see — a syringe of white liquid slowly injected as the doctor and a couple of nurses stood by.

Someone said, “She will be dead before morning.” I’ll always remember those words.

I finished my day of work, the usual for a student nurse, an evening of study (probably), bed; come morning, back to work, a changed atmosphere, everyone smiling.

I can see her now, the young woman, sitting up in bed, cross-legged, doing some kind of sewing. A miracle!

This was the first use of penicillin on our ward, maybe in the whole hospital at the old Augusta General Hospital.

Antibiotics changed our world. I remember.

Margaret Hilton

Farmingdale

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