A bold remedy for apparently hopeless cases

There was one more discovery at Melbourne’s Medical History Museum that delighted me even more than Champagne Jimmy, though I know that’s hard to believe.

Allow me to introduce you to the ‘colonial snakebite kit’.
Colonial snakebite kit at Melbourne Medical History MuseumActually that’s a few different kits. There were many treatments for snakebite in 19th-century Australia, the museum signage explains, including ‘incision, amputation, and a variety of “antidotes” (including mercury and medicinal brandy)’ as well as one man’s ‘use of intravenous ammonia’. (He thought snakebite poisoning was a result of germs, so I suppose his theory was that pumping ammonia into your blood would … kill the germs?)

The kit on the right, with the rather luxurious royal purple lining, is a ‘chloride of lime antidote for snakebite,’ circa 1895.

My favourite thing about this display, and the entire Medical History Museum, is the kit in the top left corner, dated from 1872. Its instructions start off shouting and just keep getting better:

AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE AFTER BEING BITTEN
1. Tie something very tightly above the bite.
2. Cut out the part bitten and wash the wound.
3. Watch for signs of Snake Poison.
Inability to walk. — Sleepiness. — Pale and Cold Skin. — Enlarged Pupils.
4. Keep the person warm, quiet, and hopeful.
5. DO NOT get flurried; do everything calmly.
6. DO NOT give any Stimulants; they do harm.
7. DO NOT force the person to walk about.
8. Remember that many Snakes are not Poisonous.
9. Remember that Fear alone may cause alarming signs and even cause Death.
10. Try in every way to allay fear and inspire courage and hope.
11. Directly signs of Snake Poison appear—
– Inject a dose of Strychnia.
– In a Child under 10, One Tablet, or one-fiftieth of a grain.
– In a Person over 10, Two Tablets, or one-twenty-fifth of a grain.
– In a Severe Case, Five Tablets, or one-tenth of a grain.
12. Repeat dose in quantity and frequency required.
USE THE REMEDY BOLDLY IN APPARENTLY HOPELESS CASES.

I love everything about these instructions. I love the random use of Capital Letters. I love that, after instructing you to remain calm in point 5, point 9 then informs you that fear alone can cause death, which is a fear-inducing statement if I’ve ever heard one. (Fear can also cause ‘alarming signs’, whatever those are.) I love that the instructions wait until point 5 to tell you to remain calm, and that instead of using those two simple words, they use seven, one of which is ‘flurried’.

And I especially love the concluding instruction to use your colonial snakebite remedy ‘boldly’, even if the bite victim seems to have already died of either Snake Poison or Fear Alone.

This colonial snakebite kit is my favourite piece of Australiana yet, and that’s including these handsome concrete driveway kangaroos:
Concrete guard kangaroos in Australia
Take care, and try not to get flurried,
Ashley
xo

 

It’s scary but nobody cares

I’ve never understood why Australians bother with the drop bear myth. It’s like a morgue trying to freak out visitors with a plastic fly in the complimentary punch bowl. If Aussies want to freak out foreigners, they can simply relate their own everyday encounters with deadly creatures, such as finding a funnel-web spider submerged in an air bubble in their swimming pool, or discovering a brown snake in their washing machine, or being bitten by a redback spider at the age of three and taken to the GP’s office to be told, ‘It’s probably fine.’ These are all actual experiences Australians have related to me, unsolicited.

There was once an African safari park outside Sydney that advertised its lions and tigers and bears with a commercial jingle featuring the refrain, ‘It’s scary but nobody cares.’ While I can’t imagine the phrase inspired many theme park visits, such nonchalance in the face of potential death would be the perfect national motto for Australia. Sure, some Aussies do care, but the national attitude is pride in not caring. Another local once told me – again, unsolicited – about the white-tailed spider bite that turned his arm the greyish pallor of a three-day-old corpse. He related the experience with underlying satisfaction, as though it ranked high among his personal achievements. White-tailed spiders are scary. This guy not only didn’t care, but was damn proud of it.

This is the opening to ‘It’s Scary but Nobody Cares’, an article about coming to terms with Australia’s reputation for deadliness, published by Griffith Review. It’s an excerpt from my memoir-in-progress, How to Be Australian. The full piece is free to read now!

Here’s a little bonus I couldn’t squeeze in:
A Snakey handling a snake at the La Perouse Snake Show in Australia
Australians have a delightfully weird relationship with their deadly wildlife. The La Perouse Snake Show is a perfect example of this.

Running once a month for the past century, the snake show takes place inside this rather low fence. Visitors gather around and dangle their children’s legs tantalisingly into the arena, where a ‘snakey’ (the genuine professional term) hauls a variety of live snakes out of brown sacks and gives a little spiel about each of them.

Steve and I happened upon this by accident while visiting this historic part of Sydney, and we were captivated. Particularly when the man said, speaking directly to a potentially lethal snake in the cutesy voice used for puppies and toddlers, ‘You’ve got tiny little fangs, don’t you?’

This country will never cease to enthrall me. Also, I move that all writers be called wordies; it’s got a real ring to it.

Ashley
xo

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