Dr. Bland Made House Calls

Across the Fence #336

Do you remember country doctors… the kind that used to make house calls? For those of us who have more years behind us than in front of us, we remember those days of being on the receiving end of a house call.

Here in Westby, we just lost one of those doctors. Phillips T. Bland died on April 15, 2011, at the age of 87. He came to Westby in 1952, and practiced medicine until he retired in 2006. He was also a Staff Physician at Vernon Memorial Hospital for 57 years, and mentored hundreds of young medical students in the UW-Medical School preceptor program. He was also involved in numerous civic organizations and projects, and internationally known as a designer of ski jumps. Dr. Bland was an icon in the Westby area.

But those are just a few of the facts that can be found in the obituary for “Doc” Bland, as he was affectionately known. As with most obituaries, they don’t reach inside and pull the heart out of the person.

Dr. Bland was our family physician for many years. My mother had severe asthma for most of her life. It developed into emphysema in her later years. I remember many times over the years when Dr. Bland would be called in the evening because she was having trouble breathing. A short time later, car lights would come down our road and turn into our driveway. Dr. Bland would come in the house, medical bag in hand, and always wearing a friendly smile to greet us. You knew he had been interrupted from a family gathering or some type of activity, after a long, busy day at the office and hospital. Maybe he had been sitting with his feet up in a Lazy Boy, reading his paper and relaxing when the call came. He had every right to be irritated at being called out at night. If he ever was, he never showed it. You always felt relieved that everything was going to be all right as soon as he walked in the door, greeted you, opened his bag, and took out his stethoscope. There was a calming affect in his manner. I hope every medical student he mentored, developed that same, calming bedside manner.

Many times, he was called out to check on us kids too. Why people always seem to get sicker at night, when the doctor’s office is closed, is a mystery that may never be solved. In those days, you didn’t head for an urgent care facility or the emergency room to be treated, like many people do today.

“Doc” Bland went above and beyond the call of duty when I got hurt in high school football. My cousin, Lauren Ostrem, and I ended up in Dr. Bland’s office that evening. I had a broken leg and Lauren had a concussion. We were both well-taken care of that day by Dr. Bland, who was the team physician for the Westby High School football team for many years.

I spent several days in the Viroqua Hospital. Dr. Bland stopped by each day to check on me. He explained that I had a bad spiral fracture, had torn the ball out of the socket in my ankle, and also injured other muscles and tendons. I always like to do things up good! He constantly reassured me that I would be OK, but it was going to be a lengthy recuperation period. I’d be spending the next month or more on my back, in bed.

One night after I had been transferred home, Dr. Bland and Elmo Gulsvig, my high school principal and football coach, showed up at our farm. They had brought the game film from our last football game of the season to show me. With me lying in bed, they set up the projector and screen, and we all watched the game together, as they provided the commentary. That was way above and beyond the call of duty for both of them. That’s a house call I will always remember.

The last time Dr. Bland treated me, I had developed bursitis in my shoulder from overuse while canoeing. We were home visiting my folks one weekend and the pain had become intense. Dr. Bland made time to see me at his office. He gave me a cortisone injection in the shoulder joint and I never had problems or pain in that shoulder again.

I also remember the care and compassion he showed my mother in her final days as she suffered from emphysema, and struggled to breathe.

Our family, and most families in the Westby area, had a long history with Dr. Bland. I can’t even imagine the amount of house calls and interrupted evenings he must have had over the years.

Those days are gone. Times have changed. “Doc” Bland was a throwback to another time, when doctors in small towns and rural areas, were expected to make house calls. When I think of the inconvenience and sacrifice that must have placed on general practice, country doctors, I appreciate even more what they did for all of us.

The mental image of a doctor, like “Doc” Bland, walking into your house, with medical bag in hand; is like looking at an old Norman Rockwell painting. They are both treasures from a disappearing era.