"Returning from holiday on September 3, 1928, Fleming noticed...a blob of mold growing (on a petry dish that he had left). The mold had secreted something that inhibited bacterial growth. Fleming found that (this substance) was capable of killing a wide range of harmful bacteria."
However, it wasn't until March of 1942 that Penicillin was first used on a patient, Mrs. Ann Miller of New Haven, Connecticut. Merck & Co., Inc., the pharmaceutical company, then started mass producing Penicillin to cure more and more patients.
Ten years later, in December of 1952, my family and I (mother, father and four sons) were about to embark on a holiday vacation trip from Oswego, New York to Miami Beach, Florida. The six of us would travel 1,461 miles in two cars.
The night before we left I took a bath. On leaving the tub, I fell on the wooden floor cutting my right knee. A sliver of wood entered the cut. My mother tried unsuccessfully to remove it.
We left the next morning and the trip took us the better part of a week. Each day ended in a frightening ordeal for me. In our hotel room before going to bed, my mother would use a tweezer to attempt to remove the sliver. She couldn't.
I had been especially looking forward to climbing the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. to stand in front of the greatest president in American history. Even at seven years of age, I was already in awe of Abraham Lincoln. Because of my problem with my right knee, the best I could do was to stand in front of the steps. Since then, I have made the climb several times.
Days later we were having dinner at a restaurant in St. Augustine, in northeast Florida, "the oldest (since 1565) continuously occupied European-established (Spanish) settlement within the borders of the continental United States." It turned out to be the city where one of my favorite actors, Richard Boone (Have Gun Will Travel), lived during his final years.
Upon leaving the restaurant, I noticed that my right knee felt very warm. I pulled up my pant leg and saw pus coming out of my now infected wound. My mother, my twenty year old brother Joel and I went directly to the emergency room at the local hospital. There, medical personnel took me into a private examining room.
Initially, I was not nervous. However, that changed when a nurse entered the room with the biggest hypodermic needle I have ever seen. I asked Joel for whom was that for. He responded with one word, "Guess." Realizing the correct answer, I became hysterical. It took four people, including Joel, to hold me down so that someone could inject me with Penicillin in my buttock.
The following morning, we returned to the hospital for a second injection of the wonder drug. By then my right knee was much better and I took the shot like a pro. The family then proceeded on our trip to Miami Beach.
Who knows what might have happened to me had Dr. Fleming not made his accidental discovery. Could I have lost my leg or even died? This is what I think about life, one accident after another.
We left the next morning and the trip took us the better part of a week. Each day ended in a frightening ordeal for me. In our hotel room before going to bed, my mother would use a tweezer to attempt to remove the sliver. She couldn't.
I had been especially looking forward to climbing the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. to stand in front of the greatest president in American history. Even at seven years of age, I was already in awe of Abraham Lincoln. Because of my problem with my right knee, the best I could do was to stand in front of the steps. Since then, I have made the climb several times.
Days later we were having dinner at a restaurant in St. Augustine, in northeast Florida, "the oldest (since 1565) continuously occupied European-established (Spanish) settlement within the borders of the continental United States." It turned out to be the city where one of my favorite actors, Richard Boone (Have Gun Will Travel), lived during his final years.
Upon leaving the restaurant, I noticed that my right knee felt very warm. I pulled up my pant leg and saw pus coming out of my now infected wound. My mother, my twenty year old brother Joel and I went directly to the emergency room at the local hospital. There, medical personnel took me into a private examining room.
Initially, I was not nervous. However, that changed when a nurse entered the room with the biggest hypodermic needle I have ever seen. I asked Joel for whom was that for. He responded with one word, "Guess." Realizing the correct answer, I became hysterical. It took four people, including Joel, to hold me down so that someone could inject me with Penicillin in my buttock.
The following morning, we returned to the hospital for a second injection of the wonder drug. By then my right knee was much better and I took the shot like a pro. The family then proceeded on our trip to Miami Beach.
Who knows what might have happened to me had Dr. Fleming not made his accidental discovery. Could I have lost my leg or even died? This is what I think about life, one accident after another.
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