Memories of Two Tillsonburg Doctors

By Duane Duff - Guest Contributor

Dr. McLeod began his career in Brownsville. That was before the time of Dr. Park practising there. When I knew Dr. McLeod, he had his office, along with Dr. Alexander, in a red brick building on the east side of Broadway Avenue in Tillsonburg. He had been my grandparents' family doctor before my time. I am not sure of the first time when he was my doctor.

Once when I was eleven or twelve, I remember being in his office with my mother. When he asked me something, I replied that I did not have enough to eat. This embarrassed Mother; however, the doctor took it in stride because he was aware that I was a growing boy and needed plenty to eat.

In the summer of 1943, my parents wanted for me medical attention that we were not receiving from another physician. They wanted me to be healthy as I was about to begin high school at Brownsville that autumn. Mother took me to Dr. McLeod. He stated that my adenoids needed to be removed. For some reason, they were not removed when my tonsils were. Therefore, he set up an appointment for me at Tillsonburg Soldiers Memorial Hospital for the day surgery. I can remember being administered ether as I lay on the operating table. How awful it smelled! I drifted into unconsciousness. The next thing that I remembered, I was in a hospital bed. There was blood on the sheets. I had a sickly taste from the ether, which lasted until that night as I lay in my bed at home.

In September 1944, after one week of school, I became ill with what appeared to be flu with a sore throat. After about a week, I developed the worst nosebleed that I had ever experienced. A few days later, I had trouble walking. One of my parents telephoned Dr. McLeod, who came out to our home, about eight miles away. He was brought up to my room where checked me. I recall the rubber hammer that he applied to my knees. When my legs jumped, he announced that I did not have polio. After further checking, he diagnosed rheumatic fever. He found no heart problem. However, I would be bedridden for a few weeks. He told Mother that I would need to be bathed every morning and afternoon. This was to prevent bedsores.

The next day, my parents set up a bed in the middle of the living room. Dad carried me, a fourteen-year-old boy, down the stairs to my new bed. This particular location gave me an outside view in three directions. I am not sure Dr. McLeod came back more than once. After about five weeks, he wanted me to start walking. I tried to do so but hurt my foot, putting me back into bed. He went from our home to the home of the grocer across the road to see another patient. He said something about me in the store that upset my mother. The next day, she phoned until she found another doctor who would check me.

The next time that I would encounter Dr. McLeod was in 1957. I was teaching at Union, Ontario, at the time. A group from our church at Corinth were helping one of our members, a professional caterer, at a service club supper in Tillsonburg. As we were cleaning up in the kitchen area immediately after the supper, I began to feel numbness in my feet and hands and then tightening in my chest. I immediately lay on the floor as I knew what was happening. It had occurred at a meeting one evening at my school a short time before. A doctor, who was called out, gave me a sedative, which helped. On this occasion, someone went into the meeting and asked for a doctor. It was Dr. McLeod who responded. He checked me and then pulled a syringe and a sedative from his black bag. After this was administered, I began to feel better. He recognized both Mother and me. His help that night was much appreciated. One of the group drove me home in my car. I never saw Dr. McLeod again.

Dr. Wildfang agreed to come to see me after the visit from Dr. McLeod. He was also making a call at a neighbour's home. He checked me and noticed a slight heart murmur. That was the only time that a doctor found the slightest sign of a problem. The possibility was always the concern of any doctor on hearing that I had experienced rheumatic fever. Dr. Wildfang felt that I should stay in bed a little longer. I remember on that visit he had a good-looking Pomeranian dog in his car. After another four weeks, I was able to start walking again. It took a little longer to resume running.

One time when he was examining one of my younger brothers in his office, Dr. Wildfang came out to the waiting room to look into my eyes. He diagnosed that I, too, had jaundice. In 1946, he was the delivery doctor in Tillsonburg Hospital for my youngest brother, Oakley.

In the spring of 1946, I began to have stomach problems, apparently caused by the stress of extra work at school that year. Dr. Wildfang had me bend over as far as I could go while sitting. He poked his hand into my abdomen and declared that I had duodenal ulcers. He put me onto a milk diet and gave me a thick chalky medicine. After a time, he placed me on a new medicine. Nothing helped much.

Having been told of an ulcer specialist in Galt, Ontario, I went to him, Dr. Hawkings. He checked me in the same way as Dr. Wildfang had and came up with the same diagnosis. Several years later, Navy doctors would not accept that I had had ulcers because no X-ray had been taken. Dr. Hawkings put me on a specific diet as Dr. Wildfang had, but there was to be no milk. His chalky medicine was even thicker than the first one that was given to me. Eventually, I overcame the ulcers.

Twice at Easter time when I was in high school, he came to the house and diagnosed strep throat. Once he stuck a needle into one of my hips and once into an arm and administered penicillin. Oh, how that hurt and upset my stomach! However, about one-half hour later, my throat started to improve.

In my first year at Aylmer High School, I asked Dr. Wildfang for a medical letter excusing me from physical education. He complied. Two years later at Normal School in Winnipeg, my principal was told by a doctor, without my asking, to do the same.

In a Manitoba school where I taught in the 1950s, the students had a game of making another student faint by standing behind him, wrapping arms around him, and squeezing on the chest. I wrote this information to our neighbour and asked her to check with Dr. Wildfang if this could cause a problem. He stated that the fainting was not a problem, but the squeezing could rupture a blood vessel, which could be a problem.

A few years later, Dad was admitted into Brantford General Hospital by Dr. Wildfang for surgery. At that time, for a reason which I do not recall, he used the hospital in Brantford rather than the one in Tillsonburg for surgeries.

After I returned to Southern Ontario to teach, I began to have respiratory problems. I asked Dr. Wildfang if I might be helped were I to move to Western Canada where the climate would be drier. He agreed that this might be good. Thus, I moved to Alberta to teach.

Although I heard about Dr. Wildfang from home, I never saw him again. He did seem to hold an interest in me from the time that he first diagnosed me. I have a copy of his obituary in my collection.

Any general practitioner who performed services for our family and others in those days seemed to be highly dedicated, whether or not we agreed with him. He was on call 24 hours a day and 7 days a week. He did not have a receptionist. We did not need appointments. We went to the office and waited our turn. There was no need to fill out forms before seeing the doctor. He did not have to fill out forms for an insurance company. He took his time in dealing with each patient. Patients were not always able to pay for services, but they were treated. The doctor made up his medicine in his backroom or in a home where he was visiting. There were no prescriptions to be filled at a pharmacy. Unless the weather was very bad, he would travel several miles to the home of a patient. Babies were often born at home with the doctor in attendance. He showed concern when a patient did not respond well to his efforts. He was recognized as he entered a home by the black bag that he carried. There were still doctors who were disliked despite all that they could do. We need to show gratitude for these doctors who did their best with the available equipment and knowledge that they had.

Duane's Biography:

Duane was born in 1930 in nearby Corinth. He received his pre-college education at Corinth, Brownsville, and Aylmer; his Normal School at Winnipeg (graduated 1951); and his Bachelor of Education at the University of Alberta. He has taught school in three provinces (Ontario, Manitoba, and Alberta) and one U.S. state (Missouri). He has lived in five provinces (Ontario, Manitoba, Alberta, British Columbia, and Nova Scotia), three U.S. states (Missouri, Texas, and Washington state), and two Mexican states (Nuevo León and Chiapas). After age 75, he interviewed for over 250 mini-biographies and wrote many more essays of the past where he has lived. One of his books is available in the Oxford County Public Library system and four in the Elgin system.

In celebration of Tillsonburg's 150th anniversary, the Oxford County Archives has a new online exhibit celebrating the history of business and industry in Tillsonburg around the time of its incorporation in 1872. Visit the virtual exhibit for more information.