Creative Writing by local young adult Sarah Pickard a.k.a. Miss Morphine now Dr. Morphine of The (infamous) Sawbones Society
The Sawbones Society for Malpracticing Medics
No Questions, No Qualifications, No Refunds
Miss Vera Morphine, Physician
Miss Vera [Redacted] was the daughter of a mortician, and watched her father work on bodies for years before she decided to take up the task herself on live patients. After a few mishaps and one untimely ended engagement, she fled the country, changed her name to Miss Morphine, and began passing herself off as a sketchy nurse. Now, recently emboldened by gaining (if not earning) a medical license, she’s promoted herself to Doctor Morphine and founded the Sawbones Society for Malpracticing Medics. God help us all.
Instagram: @MorphineMistress #MissMorphine
Nurse Clara Form
Nurse Clara Form is only incompetent at her job if you assume her job is nursing, and given as she’s the only fully qualified member of the society, you wouldn’t be the first. In reality, her saccharine exterior hides a sadistic centre. Nurse Clara Form only went to nursing school to gain access to the weak and learn to cover her tracks. She was very good at it too -- till she realized most members of the Sawbones Society couldn’t tell the difference between someone who’s died of incompetent nursing and someone who’s been shot in the face. There’s been an upswing in ‘Exploding Face Disease’ ever since…
Mr. Edward Ether, Surgeon
Originally Mr. Edwards, this surgeon grew up in the London shipyards, where his childhood task was climbing inside dangerous machinery to amputate trapped limbs. When he came of age, he applied for the Royal College of Surgeons. He used his student privileges to gain access to the anesthetic supplies, and began self-medicating with ether, gaining his professional title. After being expelled for removing the wrong limb off a gangrenous patient, he seduced an administrator and stole enough ether to render an auditorium unconscious. After so many years of surgery under the influence, he’s forgotten anything that ever made him qualified. Patients often make the mistake of thinking that the large tank of anesthesia he carries around is for them.
Miss Abby Sinthe, Apothecary
A true cockney and former costermonger, Miss Abby Sinthe quickly realized that it takes absolutely no medical knowledge or training to give unsolicited advice to the clearly infirmed. She built up a clientele of desperate patients and began charging them for her opinion, and her opinion was always to purchase some of her miracle drugs (the miracle being if they work at all). She mixes medicines and presses pills when she’s not sniffing her stash, and her most prized possession is her beautiful Paris Green dress. The arsenic dye really makes the colour pop.
Ms. Murdina Strychnine, Leech Collector
Ms. Murdina Strychnine hails from Scotland, the daughter of a Malpracticing medic mother whose medical knowledge was limited to ‘leeches’. She used to send her children out to the bogs to collect them. Ms. Strychnine was the toughest, so she alone survived the repeated blood loss. When her mother’s practice was shut down, she fled to England and bumped into the Sawbones Society. Impressed by their ‘qualifications’ and ‘degrees’, Ms. Strychnine fails to realize how disreputable the society actually is, and spends most of her time trying to convince disgruntled patients about how lucky they are to be alive to complain.
Dr. Alexandra Heroin, Psychiatrist
Some people are born mad, some achieve madness, and some wind up in the hands of Dr. Heroin and her asylum. Her past is questionable, her motives are unknown (but likely deeply Freudian), and her methods are highly experimental. From lobotomies to shock therapy to ice baths and restraints, she’s willing to try everything once. People would leave with more psychoses than they came in with, if they ever left at all. She has quite the sense of humour though -- colleagues say she’s absolutely hysterical.
Mr. Sy A. Nide, Resurrectionist
Mr. Nide began quite innocently with labour, digging ditches. He jumped ship to graves when he discovered people don’t bury their solid gold watches or diamond earrings in ditches. Content with minor thievery, he once again advanced in the criminal world when the Sawbones Society hired him as their resurrection man. He might think they’re more deranged than the average folk, but he’s not moral enough to object to finding cadavers for them to practice on. In all honesty, he’s in it for the fancy title.