1.Those DNUKers of a certain age may remember Baker-Bates' advice on retiring from the hospital. It was to buy a dog six months before retirement and on retirement present the dog to the telephonist (the former Liverpool Royal Infirmary switchboard was at the main hospital entrance). "It will be the only one to recognise you when you visit four weeks later".
2. mgbamber ->'I spent a year with Dr Baker-Bates and was well acquainted with 70 Rodney Street and the kitchen at the top where entire cooked chickens were put into a blender and various liquids added to make "soup" in which the bones made an interesting texture. I may be the only person to have left the flat by the webbing harness torque limiter device down the outside wall and then persuaded BB to follow my example.
A favourite comment was that which he attributed to Henry Cohen who was told that Maurice Pappworth had written 'A primer of medicine' to which Cohen was alleged to have replied, "I had always wanted to see my lecture notes in print".
One afternoon at the Providence Hospital in St Helens run by those nice nuns, he pulled the curtains around a patient's bed, then pulled off the bedclothes, exclaiming to us all, "Look, a man attached to a hydrocoele".
Howard Branley may not be old enough to remember Colin Ogilvie who was BB's houseman at one point.'
3. talbot ->'He indeed was a remarkable character. He was alleged to have a Luger pistol left over from the war. He was a consultant physician at several Liverpool hospitals and, for free, at 'The Providence' St Helen's run by the Little Sisters of the Poor, who worshipped the ground he walked on. He was prone to starting ward rounds by climbing on the table and asking "Whose the greatest" to which the nuns would all respond "You are Dr Baker-Bates." Long before they were fashionable, he wore short-sleeved shirts and took his dog on ward rounds. He once discharged his Luger into the ward ceiling.
He had a little doctor's bag which contained the most enormous Queen Square pattern patella hammer and a towel. I saw Sir Cyril Clarke say to him on the Friday afternoon Grand Round, "Ah, Eric, I see you are doing neurology on elephants now". The towel was for opthalmoscopy. He would put it over his and the patients head to produce an instant dark room!
He lived above his private practice in rodney street looked after by a housekeeper, who I managed to call Mrs Willy, after an evening's generous entertainment there (I was drunk). He was prone to manic episodes and the police would often find him wandering the streets at 4am and gently lead him home, knowing who he was. He would wake up his houseman at 4 am other mornings having put the radio by the phone, shouting "Listen to this boy, it's very interesting".
Considered the senior physician during the war, all of the consultants were drafted into the medical corps. So he put all the teaching hospital regs into his Roller and drove around all the Merseyside hospitals, dropping them off in turn with the instruction, "You be the consultant here" and the hospital boards never argued. Fabulously rich, his wife was alleged to have run off with the chauffeur, but, unfortnately the Roller crashed at the roundabout just outside Clatterbridge Hospital. The boot flew open and a suitcase stuffed with ten pound notes scattered its contents all over the Wirral countryside.
He loved teaching and, long after his retirement took clinical pathology classes in the mortuary of the Royal Infirmary and applied physiology classes at the med school. He was very good. He brought in patients to the latter (the other ones were dead) to illustrate some principle, and he paid for the services of a private nurse to tend to them while he taught.
How come there are no teachers around any more who are a little eccentric? I think we are all too boring and serious!
4. dphillips -> 'Ahh the "soup du jour" an endless pot that had things put in one after the other
My father was a butcher in Berry st round the corner from Rodney st and he used to sell BB ox tails mainly for his soup.He was also medical officer for Guinness and had wonderful bottles ofexport guinness which he then put into a big jug filled it with lemonade and lime!!!
5. davidhewitt ->'Oh I remember him very well in the mid to late sixties. He was very good to me and made me drive his car when I was on his and Cyril Clarke's firm.
I remember one cold Feruary morning driving this four litre Jaguar to St Helen's with him and two other students to St Helens at over 90 miles an hour along the East Lancs Road with all the windows open. As we went over the brow of the hill by Pilkingtons there was a lorry stuck in the road. He yelled at me to stop and told me to change down as well as braking madly. As the gear lever moved he shouted "aeshack meshack and in we go". I managed to stop,.... just.
Once when confronted by a wellknown lady of doubtful character who said to him....
"Eh pot belly yer cock is hanging out" replied without a trace of irony or a glance downwards "Dead birds madam never fall out of their nest".
He often told us to remember to "Choose your parents wisely".
His outpatients were highly unusual for the cake, coffee, fruit and the binocular case concealing brandy that sat on the huge table.
When someone was particularly thick in their reply he would tell us to "get the malaena ready boys" He would refer to Lord Cohen as "The earthly Lord".
He was definitely bipolar, but they really don't make them like that any more.'
