End Notes
Forgiveness Denied, Healing Delayed
A young doctor learns that wounds of the “heart” can be as damaging as injuries to the body.
By Harrison H. Farley, M.D.
A physician needs to know more about his patient than just his physical status if he is to understand that patient and help him recover. Nowhere was this more apparent than at the old Minneapolis General Hospital, where many of the patients were alcoholics or criminals or psychotic.
Although some of these patients could not and would not be managed in the private hospitals, none was refused care at the General. It was the safety net. Very few paid their way. On occasion, an exceptionally notable patient was admitted who demanded the attention of our top supervising staff, rather than the interns and residents who managed most of the patient care. In the summer of 1957, two such patients were admitted—one a heroic police officer, the other, the youngest of three murdering hoodlums.
On August 16, the notorious O’Kasick brothers were confronted during a holdup by police officers Robert Fossum and Ward Canfield. When they arrived at the scene, the officers exited their police cruiser to a hail of bullets. Fossum was shot dead. Canfield returned fire but was struck in the left shoulder and neck. The brothers jumped into their car and proceeded to run over Canfield as they made their getaway. Canfield’s uniform caught on the underside of the vehicle, and he was dragged several blocks before falling away.
Officer Canfield was taken to Minneapolis General. Among his injuries were fractured ribs and extremities and a gunshot wound involving the left brachial plexus in the neck and shoulder.
I was a first-year resident at the time and helped with Officer Canfield’s care. His gunshot wound required several surgeries. He had trouble with a persistent pneumothorax, and he developed a gangrenous gallbladder. The pain from the gunshot wound was difficult to control. Nevertheless, he began to recover.
A month after the robbery, the O’Kasick brothers were trapped by police in the Carlos Avery Reserve near Forest Lake. The two older brothers were killed on the spot, but the youngest brother, Jimmy, sustained a gunshot wound to the chest, and was taken to Minneapolis General.
A team headed by Claude R. Hitchcock, M.D., performed a dramatic open-chest resuscitation, and plugged and repaired two holes in the left ventricle of his heart. The hospital had no ICU at the time, so Jimmy was given special postoperative care on the surgery ward of the second floor, a short distance away from where Officer Canfield was still recovering.
Jimmy was kept under armed guard. As soon as he woke up and learned of the officer’s condition, he began expressing remorse and pleaded to be allowed to visit him and ask for forgiveness.
His request was not granted. He then wrote a letter to the recovering policeman. I was privileged to read it and was quite touched. However, both the officer and his family refused to see Jimmy.
Jimmy O’Kasick recovered and was sent to prison only to hang himself in his cell.
Officer Canfield’s physical wounds healed, but his psyche did not. He was a bitter man and still suffering a great deal when I last saw him in the City Employee Clinic much later.
I felt that the tragedy had been compounded by his refusal to see Jimmy in the hospital. If only he could have forgiven Jimmy, or at least listened to him, it may have allowed for a measure of healing. I don’t fault Officer Canfield for his decision. I’m afraid I would have done the same. Nevertheless, it occurred to me at the time—and even more so now—that when a person suffers an egregious injury, recovery of the mind and body can only occur when a sense of forgiveness prevails. Anger feeds on itself, and the damage to the psyche can be more devastating than the wounds to the body. Maybe the patient can’t forget—but he can forgive. MM
Harrison Farley is a retired surgeon who lives in St. Paul.