Word: scalped
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...prime object of college athletics is character building, not victory on river or field, and the alumni who demand the scalp of a coach merely because his team fails to win misunderstand the purpose and mission of the coach. This was the burden of a series of heretical utterances by William J. Bingham, director of athletics of Harvard University, in an address before the Beacon Society Saturday night which, anomalous as it may seem, won the enthusiastic approval of representatives of Dartmouth. Amherst, and Yale, who commended the attitude of Director Bingham in the warmest terms. The diners were hardly...
...nose or on the cheek near an eye, an angry red spreads out into a wide, fiery stain. The skin tingles. It burns. When the stain reaches the spongy cheek or lip tissues, these swell into a horrible, puffy, burning mass. Sometimes the disease works into the scalp and down the neck. The toxins are filtering through the lymphatic fluids. The patient is feverish and drowsy. Heretofore the only cure has been to let the disease run its course, to ease the pain by hot fomentations, by the application of powdered starch, and by giving nourishing, easily digested foods. After...
...Strochavi examined the lump. Was the lump present at birth? No, her baby had been a "clean" baby. He felt the lump. The infant screamed. Contusion? There was no sign of bruising. Caput succedaneum, the deep bruising of the scalp layer immediately next to the bony skull? Probably not. Inflammation or abscess of the scalp? No. There were no signs of erysipelas, wounds, boils, suppurating sweat glands, and very little likelihood of any decay of a bone in the skull. Encephalocele, a tumor formed by the sticking out through the soft infantile skull of the membranes of the brain, with...
Well, the best thing would be to open up this bump very carefully and learn the hidden cause directly. So with a sterilized lancet the doctor, emergency surgeon now, pricked the baby's pink scalp. He pricked again. He heard a minute clink; he felt something hard against his lancet blade. He looked, and there gleaming up at him like a reptilian eye glittered in his incision the end of a steel darning needle...
There now lay the tumor, big as a baseball, looking like a sloppily rounded corn fritter. A few judicious slashes and it was free. Back went the excised meninges. Back the bone. Back the flap or scalp. Sutures there were. The operation was a success, a triumph...