Vaseline and Ultra-Violet as a Miracle Cure?
Alden P. Armagnac Popular Science 1932
A middle-aged man walked into a New York surgeon’s office for examination of a wound, a few months ago. For a whole year following an operation, the wound had failed to heal. Repeated treatments by practically every method known to medical science had failed. This time, the surgeon’s manner after examination conveyed no optimism.
The most he could do, he said, was to send the patient back to the hospital for an attempt at a cure by another operation. “Except — there’s just a chance —” His eyes, glancing idly about the room, happened to fall upon a test tube hanging on a curtain.
He unhooked the test tube, and emptied its jelly-like contents into a surgical syringe. Despite difficulties in handling, the warm jelly was applied to the wound and covered with gauze.
Five days later the man returned. “Doctor”, he said, “I think my wound has closed”. It had. By some apparent miracle, a test tube of ordinary petroleum jelly, taken on the vaguest chance from in front of an ultraviolet lamp where the surgeon had been using its natural fluorescence to test the strength of the rays, had succeeded where the best remedies known to medicine had failed.
It was thus that Dr Eugene H. Eising, New York surgeon, discovered an entirely new kind of healing agent. This irradiated petrolatum, or rayed petroleum jelly, has strange attributes. Its action combines a general healing effect and a positive germ-killing quality, the latter effect differing from standard antiseptics in being a prolonged, rather than an instantaneous, action. Strangest of all, the preparation’s curative power seems to depend upon an invisible mystery ray that comes from the jelly, a phenomenon demonstrated by the ray’s ability to fog a photographic plate in total darkness.
Even though the working of the mysterious jelly is not fully understood, it is considered of great importance to the public. A large manufacturer of pharmaceutical preparations is compounding it already under the name of “radolatum” — short for irradiated petrolatum — and at this writing it is available to physicians. Now plans are being made to introduce it to the general public, and drug stores may have it on their shelves by the time this appears in print. Radolatum eventually may become a standard remedy in every household medicine cabinet. Tests in some of the country’s foremost clinics show its amazing versatility and effectiveness in treating such everyday ailments as burns, scalds, boils, and sunburn, in addition to more serious surgical cases.
If such everyday wonders as X-ray tubes and ultra-violet lamps still impress the layman, what is one to say of Dr Eising’s preparation and its mystery rays? Or of a newly-announced process that physicians may soon be using to fight cancer, in which ultraviolet rays are generated deep inside the human body? Or again, of strange invisible rays for which no use has yet been found, such as come from the wings of butterflies and print their image upon a photographic plate? Here are vivid examples that, so far, we have only scratched the surface of a whole mysterious range of radiations, and that new wonders may follow their harnessing.
As a start in learning of the latest ray discoveries, I went to Dr Eising’s laboratory to obtain the first-hand story of his mystery rays.
In a curtained-off corner of his laboratory stands a large ultraviolet lamp used for treating patients. With such a lamp, Dr Eising explained, it is customary to use an indicator showing the strength of the rays. Such indicators usually consist of a small transparent capsule enclosing chemicals that, under ultraviolet radiation, glow with brilliant blue or green light. Sometimes the capsules break and must be replaced. Dr Eising discovered that a test tube of ordinary petroleum jelly — which fluoresces with a blue glow under the rays — made a satisfactory indicator, when hung on a curtain near the lamp.
It was this tube of jelly that Dr Eising took from the curtain, where it had hung before the lamp for hours, to treat his difficult patient. Whatever lucky inspiration moved him to do it, he realized he had made an important discovery when the same preparation worked with signal success upon other patients. Then he began to search for the explanation of its amazing healing power.
At first, he thought it might be due to vitamins, formed in the petrolatum by the ultraviolet rays of the lamp. He discarded this theory when he found that ordinary petrolatum, artificially impregnated with vitamins, had no such powers.
“After fumbling around for a while”, Dr Eising says, “it occurred to me to place some of my irradiated petrolatum with a photographic plate in a light-tight box”. He cut a design in a cardboard stencil, placed the stencil between a photographic plate and a dish of the rayed jelly in a darkroom, and then left the combination overnight in a box from which all light was excluded. When he removed and developed the plate, the result was startling. The plate bore a perfect image of the stencil, as plainly as if printed upon the sensitive emulsion by a powerful lamp.
Ordinary petroleum jelly, not irradiated, has no such power. By exposing different batches of jelly to his lamp under variously colored glass and testing them, Dr Eising tried to identify the light that gave petroleum jelly its remarkable power. The new type of light is present in normal sunlight, but is available in more concentrated form in artificial lamps.
Evidently exposure to this light gave petroleum jelly the power of emitting some mysterious, invisible ray that affects a photographic plate in total darkness. New tests showed that the curative power of the jelly and the emission of the mystery ray seem to go hand in hand. Inescapable was the inference that the ray is partly or wholly responsible for the healing result. What could be the nature of the ray?
Could it be that the jelly re-emitted ultraviolet rays after exposure? If so, the rays should behave light like rays, and pass readily through transparent pieces of quartz and film. Dr Eising found the rays actually did pass through a protective layer of celluloid film and affect one of his plates, but in the crucial test they failed to penetrate thin plates of transparent quartz. Moreover, he found he could keep the mysterious emanation from affecting a plate by blowing a gentle stream of air between jelly and plate during exposure. Conversely, when he led the emanation from a flask of warmed, irradiated jelly through a glass tube to a plate, it left a dense black smudge on the developed plate. These tests suggest that the emanation may partake both of the nature of a radiation and a vapor.
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