Day 63--My Grandfather

My mom's dad is my current inspiration. I have been thinking about him the last couple of days. I never met him.

Dr. Nicholas Aloys Schnieder was one of the most highly respected, and widely known doctors in St. Louis, during the 1930's and 1940's until his tragic death on May 3, 1947. He was a general practitioner.

He was a handsome man as you can see from the photo to the left. Lucky for me I got his hands. What strikes me about him is his dedication to health. I remember reading one of his internship journal entries where he discussed that he was "gluttonous" and that "tomorrow (he) will have to take vigorous exercise".

The quote, written by his older sister, a nurse herself, under the picture reads, "Dr. Nicholas A. Schnieider, efficient and precise in all he did. Never weighed more than 138#. Died May 3, 1947". He was only 5' 7" tall. His conscious eating and attention to his health really meant he practiced what he preached.

During his time general practitioners did everything; house visits, hospital visits, operations (everything except eyes) and he even had his own office. I have heard many stories about how, in those days, people would give him eggs, chickens, fruit, produce etc as payment for his services. Keep in mind this was during the Great Depression. He would even hire men to fill the coal in their house furnace and live in the basement until that person found steady work. I am always amazed at what a very generous man he was.

The story goes that my grandmother, heartbroken (obviously), when he died, left his doctor bag by the front door where he kept it until she moved out of their house, eighteen years later, in 1965. I still remember that bag. He even had pharmaceuticals, he had invented, in that bag. I loved playing with is stethoscope.

He died because, while changing out the winter storm windows, a sash fell on his abdomen and ruptured his spleen. Today he would have easily survived through surgery, but, in 1947, the older doctors on staff at St. Louis University Hospital would not operate because they did not know what to do. Ironically my childhood family doctor, Dr. Nestor, a young doctor at the time was present and had been in WWII and he knew he could save him, but no one would listen.

Dr. Schneider was so dedicated that he performed three surgeries on the morning after the incident and then he collapsed and they admitted him to the hospital. He slowly bleed to death. Completely inconceivable in today's world, in the US. If this happened today......can you spell "malpractice"?

HAVE A GREAT FRIDAY.......See you tomorrow for the Saturday weigh-in.