The Ruptured Appendix

One summer morning I was outside with my grandfather, Bill Knutz, tying the dog out, when he told me that he had gotten very sick when he was 11.  His appendix had ruptured and he was rushed to the hospital for surgery.  He never said if he'd been sick prior to that or had any warning whatsoever, and he never said exactly how long he'd had to stay in the hospital, only that it was a "long time."  Keeping in mind that this was before the era of antibiotics, it's probably nothing short of a miracle that he survived.

Above: Will, Willie and Howard Knutz on their farm SW of Huron, S.D.

What I know of the story starts with Sprague Hospital, one of Huron's early hospitals, located as many of us will remember at the corner of 5th and Dakota avenue.  Although this was not the first location for the hospital, it was the most prominent and the last location.  It was run by Dr. Buell H. Sprague.

"Willie's" appendix ruptured about Oct. 23, 1923.  He was taken to Sprague Hospital by his father, Will, while his mother, Elvirta, stayed home with the other children: Howard (9), Richard (5), and Mabel (4 months).  The family lived on a farm on the Virgil Road near McIlvaine's place, about 10 miles from the hospital.  No doubt it was the longest trip Will had ever made to town.

No one can tell the story like someone who was there - and for that, we turn to his mother Elvirta's diary, graciously shared by Aunt Mabel and cousin Bonnie.

Oct. 23: Willie was operated on for appendicitis at 10:30 o'clock this evening at Sprague Hospital. Will went with him and stayed with him.  Was in the operating room while they operated on him.

Oct. 24: I and the other 3 children went in to see Willie this forenoon and Will had me and the baby to stay with Willie and he and the 2 boys came home.

Oct. 25:  Will and the boys came in to see Willie.  Willie is getting along alright but at nights he raves and tries to get out of bed and so I have to watch him close.  The Drs. says there is some ether in his system yet and after it is out he won't do that way.

Oct. 26: He surely has some terrible dreams and times.  He imagines that we are trying to hurt or kill him, that Richard runs over him with the baby's cab and has it full of rocks.  He calls me a darn fool.  Will and the boys came in again today.  I am staying at this hospital night and day.  I sleep in a chair, Will brought baby's cab for her to sleep in.  Mrs. George Peterson washes for the baby.

Oct. 27:  Will and the boys came in again today.  Willie doesn't rave so of nights now.  He is doing fine.

Oct. 28: Will and the boys were in today.  Willie is the same.

Oct. 29:  Will and the boys were in today.  Willie is the same.  Lulu comes up every evening, we go out to supper together.

Oct. 30:  Willie is the same.  Will and the boys were in again.

        Oct. 31:  Willie is the same.  Will and the boys were in today.  The nurses had a Halloween party last night.

Nov. 1:  Willie is improving right along.  Will and the boys were in again.  He can eat jello, soups, custards, toast and ice cream.

Nov. 2:  Will didn't come in today.  Willie just feels fine.

Nov. 3:  Willie is the same.  I came home last night. 

At this point, Elvirta had spent 11 days and nights at the hospital with Willie, with a four-month-old baby to care for as well.  There is one last entry in her diary for this time period:

Nov. 4:  We all went in to see Willie this afternoon.  Mama, Papa, and Maudie [Elvirta's parents and sister of Carthage, S.D.] were there.  Willie sure gets lots of gifts.  He has apples, grapes, candies, gum, oranges, grape juice, pop-gun, box of trinkets, books of all kinds, Halloween horn, colors, pencils, pencil sharpener, knife, rings, tablets.

Willie put the colors, pencils, and tablets to good use during his long stay.  He drew pictures and wrote letters to pass the time.

Of the letters he wrote to his classmates, the one above is my favorite.  Apparently when it came time to write to Lillian, his future wife, he was speechless.

Exactly how long he had spent in the hospital is probably lost to the past at this point.  But if there's a moral to the story, it's this:  Write down your stories.  Tell your grandkids, even if they don't seem interested at the time - more is being absorbed than you know.  Nearly 100 years later, I'm glad Elvirta took the time to document this part of Bill's life, and that family members all shared what they had or knew of it.  Thank you to you all.