Alumni Profile: Murray Manson on his life and times
On September 3, 1941, Murray Manson (MD ’52) enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force at the age of 17. He trained as a radar technician with bomber command and was stationed at different posts across England over the next three-and-a-half years.
When he arrived late to one of his posts, the officer sent to discipline him turned out to be the older brother of one of his Toronto classmates. Instead of meting out a punishment, the officer transferred Manson to RAF Desborough in North Hamptonshire — setting him on a course that led to a lifelong career in medicine.
Manson is now 100 years old and shares his account of that journey in his own words.
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Arriving at the RAF Station in Desborough, I was given a bed in the mission hut and the next morning at breakfast, I met other Canadians, one or two of whom I had been stationed with before.
I was glad to find out that the aircraft in use were new Lancasters with new radar equipment.
We Canadians would often go to a local NAAFI (military canteen) for tea and cakes.
One of the volunteers, a charming woman, asked us if we would like to have tea at her home on Sundays if we were off duty. Of course, we accepted her invitation. While entering the large home, I noticed a doctor’s sign on the side of the house.
I had had a contusion of my right calf and it wasn’t healing. Rather than return to the station physician, I went to the civilian doctor I now know as Dr. William Lock. We became good friends and when available, I was sometimes taken with him on his rounds.
It was then decided, as the months went by, that I too would become a physician practitioner doing general practice and obstetrics.
I was stationed at Desborough until the end of the war and received an honourable discharge on November 8, 1945, then returned home to Toronto.
I completed and passed my high school matriculation exams and applied to the University of Toronto for a medical education. I was accepted as a medicine student and graduated with an MD and LMCC (license to practice in Canada) in 1952.
Shortly after graduation, I did a rotating internship at St. Joseph Hospital in Hamilton, followed by a six-month refresher course in gastroenterology at the new Mount Sinai Hospital in Toronto. I then opened a general practice office in Hamilton with obstetrical privileges.
After five years of general practice, I applied to the Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in New York City for residency training as an anesthesiologist. While there I received a license to practice in New York after passing all the necessary medical exams.
I moved to Buffalo and began administering anesthesia at local hospitals. On one occasion I was at a small hospital in Hornell, NY during a severe snowstorm. I was asked to administer anesthetic to a recent newborn with congenital abdominal pathology, as the child could not be transferred to either Buffalo or Rochester.
I did indeed administer an open drop ether anesthetic, miraculously finding an oral infant airway in my medical bag. After almost two hours of surgery, the child did well and was taken to the hospital “baby room.” He was transferred to the pediatric wing of the Rochester General Hospital in the morning when the roads had been cleared. The child did well afterwards.
A second occasion involved a very large woman who needed a D&C (dilation and curretage). She was on a large wooden OR table that had been made to accommodate her size. After I had given her a successful spinal anesthesia and a mild sedative, draping began.
Suddenly, there was a loud cracking noise and the table began to sink slowly to the floor. Maintenance was called and after seeing what had happened, they left and returned with a two-ton tire jack which they placed under the table and slowly jacked her back up to the desired height. I completed the D&C and the patient was taken to the recovery room. The patient had no recollection of the incident.
I continued practicing in the Buffalo area for another few years, then decided to return to Toronto. I found an anesthesia position at The Doctors Hospital. Hearing rumours that the government would close the hospital, I opened a small general practice office when not administering anesthesia. The practice grew so fast that during a flu epidemic, I saw 32 patients in one day. Suspecting fraud, the insurance company continually investigated me until one day, I saw an ad for an anesthesiologist needed at a new hospital in Rochester, NY. It was the Park Ridge Hospital. I called the hospital and had the necessary credentials, and was hired on the spot.
I worked at Park Ridge for 18 years and was Chief of Ambulatory Surgery for two years before retiring.
One of my last administered anesthesia was for a cholecystectomy gall bladder infection involving a patient who, awakening five minutes after her surgery, refused to leave the OR table and go to the recovery room. After much urging, the patient finally said, “I am not leaving the table until you do the operation!” Finally, the surgeon returned to the OR and convinced her that the surgery had indeed been done. Reluctantly, she moved onto her bed and was taken to the recovery room. Two days later, she was discharged from the hospital.
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One of Manson’s most enduring and profound life fortunes has been having his wife, Honey (aged 99) by his side. They met as children growing up in the same Toronto neighbourhood and have been married for 70 years, raising three children together. For the last 25 years, they’ve been enjoying their retirement in Arizona.
He still does the shopping and chauffering, has a routine of morning chores and makes sure the birds visiting his backyard are well fed. He also likes to make new antennas as part of his biggest and most enduring hobby — ham radio — although it’s a little more difficult to get up on the roof now, he says.
When asked what his words of wisdom are for the next generation, he simply offers them the same thing he has enjoyed all these years.
“I wish you all good luck now and on your future endeavours.”
