All language subtitles for Hazardous.History.with.Henry.Winkler.S01E03.Mad.Medicine.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-RAWR_track3_[eng]

Did you know there was a
time when an electric jolt

was the way to cure impotence?

The current is
supposed to send energy

to the seminal glands, fire
'em up, and get 'em going.

Or when doctors would replace
your skin with an animal's?

Sheep, dogs,
rabbits, chickens,

as long as it's got skin,

it's fair game for
doctors to use.

Or that coffee used
to go up the other end?

He has a thriving
practice on Park Avenue.

People are lining up
for his coffee enemas.

Why coffee?

These are the
things we used to do,

for fun, for money, or
maybe out of boredom,

that we'll never see again.

Were they dangerous? Certainly.

Deadly? Occasionally.

But, boy, wasn't it exciting?

They say that necessity is
the mother of invention.

Well, the need to find a
safe, effective painkiller

was a big motivator for
19th century doctors.

And what they came up with

is a name you're
sure to recognize.

After the Civil War, a
lot of injured soldiers

are given a painkiller
called morphine.

And not surprisingly, many of
them become addicted to it.

At the end of the 1800s,
chemists around the world

are trying to make a
synthetic version of morphine

that isn't as addictive.

There are two chemists in
Europe who find a way to do it,

C.R. Wright in England

and, later, Felix
Hoffmann in Germany.

Because Wright
discovers the formula first,

Hoffman can't get a patent.

For most chemists, this
would be a deal breaker,

but not for Felix Hoffmann.

Hoffman works for a large
pharmaceutical company

that's willing to take a risk.

In 1897, instead of
applying for a patent,

they trademark their
synthetic morphine.

A trademark doesn't
protect the invention.

It protects the name
so no one can copy it.

They call it heroin.

Now I know what
you're thinking.

You're thinking, they don't
mean like heroin heroin.

It's just, like, called heroin.

No, no, it's called heroin
because it is heroin heroin.

They're selling it as
Heroin with a capital H,

like a brand name,

to make the appeal of
the product greater.

This new wonder drug
goes into mass production

and is exported
around the world,

including, of course,
to the United States.

It's advertised as safe
and not habit-forming.

You could walk into
a pharmacy and say,

"Give me a bottle of Heroin,"

and the pharmacist
would be like,

"Yes, I just got a new shipment
of heroin in yesterday."

And then they would
just sell it to you.

Heroin comes
out at a perfect time.

Not only is it an
effective painkiller,

it is also great
for something else.

At the turn of the century,

there's a massive global
outbreak of tuberculosis,

a bacterial infection
that affects the lungs

and causes a nasty cough.

And it's particularly
rough in the US.

And what does
capital H Heroin do?

It soothes a cough.

So in the early 1900s,

they're selling heroin
as a cough syrup.

Presumably, your
cough would go away

or you would still have it
and just not notice or care.

So heroin, like the codeine
in our cough suppressants,

is an opiate and it
makes you sleepy,

so it could work for a cough.

But it would not
be my first choice.

Look at the
charming little label.

Compressed tablets
containing 24 grains each

of heroin hydrochloride.

Directions, take two
or three tablets.

I mean that is,
it's totally legit.

What could go wrong?

Heroin is touted as
this great solution

to the morphine
addiction problem.

And there's an
organization in Boston

that gives free heroin
to morphine addicts,

hoping that it will help
them break the habit.

The solution to help people
with a morphine addiction

is heroin.

The results
are disastrous.

What they end up doing is
just creating deeper addiction.

Unintended, but that's
the consequence.

Patients end up needing
higher and higher doses

to get the same fix.

And it's basically
completely backfiring.

Within about a decade
of heroin entering the US,

it's being used as
a recreational drug.

And by 1914, addicts are
knocking on hospital doors

desperately searching
for treatment.

Things get so bad

that the original
company that makes heroin

voluntarily takes
it off the market.

But that doesn't stop other
illicit and generic versions

from being available
in the marketplace.

The gang
dilutes the heroin,

packages it for sale to drug
addicts all over the country.

Doctors and chemists
are realizing

that heroin is not
a great solution,

that maybe even heroin is
more addictive than morphine.

In an effort to curb both
its legal and illegal use,

Congress passes the
Heroin Act of 1924.

This makes the
manufacturer, importation,

and possession of heroin
illegal in the United States,

even for medical use.

The brand name Heroin

was derived from a German
word which means heroic.

And though heroin turned
out to be less than heroic,

in the late 1800s, there
was a new hero on the scene,

electricity.

And at the time, it was
innovative, exciting,

and people were figuring out
all sorts of interesting things

they could do with it.

It's the 19th century
and all things electricity

are fascinating the public.

Edison is going full steam with
wiring cities like New York

and creating power plants
and the light bulb.

And electricity becomes
a panacea, a cure-all.

There's this fascination
between electricity

and its possible
health benefits.

If it can power our
fledgling industrial world,

what if it could power the body?

Soon, people are creating
electrical devices

for all sorts of ailments,

up to and including
erectile dysfunction.

At the turn of the century,
impotence was a big mystery.

They didn't know what caused it.

They thought maybe
if we could stimulate

more sperm in your
system some way,

we could get you
revitalized again.

There's no doubt in
my mind that impotence

is probably one of
the worst things

that could happen to a dude.

If I found myself in a situation

where I was literally impotent,

I would go to any
lengths to cure that.

In the 1890s, one
solution is an electric belt.

Advertisements for
these electrical belts

claim that they can cure
all sorts of ailments,

back aches, kidney pain.

And they also coyly
allude to the fact

that the electrical belt might
be able to help weak men.

And we all know what
that's code for.

The way it's supposed to work
is the battery-powered belt

has electrodes that are
connected directly to the organ.

And these electrodes
are to deliver

a, quote, "soothing current

to the delicate
nerves and fibers."

And they claim that the current
is supposed to send energy

to the seminal glands,

fire 'em up, and get 'em going.

These electrical belts

are the height of
sophistication of the time.

Pretty soon, there's plenty
of options to choose from.

So fierce is the competition
that there emerges

a so-called battle of the belts.

Manufacturers run ad campaigns
starring leading actors,

well-known doctors,
and they all claim

that this belt generates,
quote, "a health-giving current

to the whole system."

The thing basically looks
and is a torture device,

but clearly, the
testimonials work

because between
the 1890s and 1920,

they sell thousands
of these things.

And they're usually
bought through catalogs

like the ones from Sears.

But these belts

aren't all they're
cracked up to be.

Metals that these
electrodes are composed of

leave behind a corrosive salt
that tends to burn the skin.

So now, not only are
these men impotent,

they're covered in
sores and are in pain.

The electric belts remain in
vogue for a very short time.

By 1910, the American
Medical Association

deems it a quackery

and they are pretty much
removed from the market.

Electrification turned out
not to be the ideal solution,

but it was far from
the only extreme remedy

to hit the market.

For many, being a
red-blooded American male

has always meant displaying
confidence, vigor,

and a certain
ability to perform.

Well, if you're having
trouble in that area,

in 1918, all that stood
between these problems

and a whole new you was a
highly promising new surgery.

In the 1800s, when
people think of impotence,

they think of it as
a depletion of sperm.

Therefore, doctors will
prescribe to not masturbate

as that is a waste of your sperm

and could yield more impotence.

Furthermore, doctors
will prescribe

so-called cures like opium,
or bleeding, or quinine.

A doctor
named John Brinkley

comes up with a more
permanent solution.

Imagine you have a problem,
and you go to the doctor,

and the doctor says,
"I can help you,

and the way I am gonna do that

is by slicing open your
scrotum and putting,

like, little nut-sized goat
testicles inside of you.

John Brinkley,

who's supposed to be this
super sophisticated doctor

with this super star degree,

he has this procedure
to sew a goat's testicle

into a man's scrotum.

Brinkley assures
his willing patient

that the goat's sex gland
will naturally bond

with his organs and
his blood vessels

and become a functioning
part of his body.

And so he gains a
big, big following.

People beat a path to his
door for this procedure.

There is such a demand
for Dr. Brinkley's services

that he branches out.

He thinks what's
good for the goose

must be good for the gander,

so he comes up with
the brilliant idea

of transplanting goat
ovaries into female patients

to help them deal with
their pregnancy issues.

People were so desperate
to fix these problems,

Brinkley was charging
people $750 a procedure,

which is $12,000
in today's money.

Despite the price,

thousands are flocking
to his clinic for a cure,

and it raises suspicion at the
American Medical Association.

Morris Fishbein, the editor

of the Journal of the
American Medical Association,

soon wages a personal
and medical crusade

against Dr. Brinkley as a fraud.

It turns out that,
quote, "Dr. John Brinkley"

isn't even a real doctor.

His degree is from
a sham university.

Goat transplants are bad enough,

but dude isn't even
a trained surgeon.

He's just out here wilding,

slicing through scrotums,
ruining people's lives.

Any success stories reported
by Dr. Brinkley's patients

is likely due to
the placebo effect.

It's basically a mind trick.

They were not really cured,

but they led
themselves to believe

that they had been cured.

Think about it.

Who's gonna come forward in
the 1920s, or even today,

and say that their
goat testicle implants

designed to treat
impotency didn't work

and so now they want a refund?

No one.

By 1930, Brinkley's
medical license was revoked

and he was forced to
reimburse millions of dollars

to patients he defrauded.

Most people trusted
their doctor's advice

when they were told
they needed surgery

or to take a prescription.

So who would
question their doctor

when they recommended the
newest medical remedy,

a nice, smooth cigarette?

You just have to
remember that the past

can sometimes be a foreign land.

And in the 1950s, half
of all Americans smoked.

Cigarettes were everywhere.

You get on a plane, there
was a smoking section.

In class, in college,
you could smoke.

You would walk into a hospital

and there'd be ashtrays
in the waiting room.

In the hospital rooms,

there'd be an ashtray
next to the bed.

Like, there was cigarette
smoking literally everywhere.

There were even vending
machines for cigarettes.

Kids today, they
can't even imagine.

These days, the message
on smoking is clear.

It's bad for you.

But back in the day, the
message was very different.

Tobacco ads start
ramping up in the 1800s,

but their content is unlike
anything we'd see today.

Do you suffer from asthma?

Have you tried Cigares de Joy?

Have a head cold, hay fever,

or all diseases of the throat?

Give a try to
Marshall's Cigarettes.

In the 1800s, it's
believed that asthma

and respiratory problems stem
from a buildup of phlegm.

So what better way to cure
it than to smoke tobacco

mixed with herbs?

I mean, think about it,
you're inhaling the cure

right into your lungs.

Early cigarette
ads lean into these ideas.

Tobacco is a remedy.

To show just how
harmless tobacco is,

the promotions around
Joy's Cigarettes

say that they're suitable
for women and children.

Imagine giving a
10-year-old a cigarette

for an asthma attack.

It's so deeply
counterintuitive

to today's sensibilities,
it's just bonkers.

But tobacco companies
have done some homework

when it comes to health claims,
in their own unique way.

In the late 1920s, the
American Tobacco Company,

the manufacturer of the famed
Lucky Strike cigarettes,

hire an ad agency who
mails cartons of cigarettes

to thousands and
thousands of doctors,

with an attached survey

asking whether Lucky
Strike cigarettes

are less irritating to
sensitive and tender throats

than other brands of cigarettes.

You're getting a
free carton of smokes,

you know, you're
more inclined to say,

"Sure, I'd recommend them."

They get back about
21,000 of these surveys

where doctors say, "Yes, we
recommend Lucky Strikes."

And they use that as a marketing
and advertising campaign.

Absolutely ingenious.

Incredibly unethical,
but absolutely genius.

American tobacco's
campaign is so successful

it spurs an advertising war.

Camel decides to take a page

out of their
competitors' playbook

and starts sending
cartons of cigarettes

to loads upon loads of doctors,

and then they release a
bold ad campaign that says,

"More doctors smoke Camel
than any other cigarette."

True or not, it didn't matter.

At this time, the
advertising industry

is completely unregulated,

so companies were free to
make any claim they wanted.

Did you say I'll feel
better smoking Philip Morris?

Yes,
you'll feel better.

In major cities
across the country,

tobacco execs are setting
up hospitality booths

at medical conventions.

And they are passing out
free cartons of cigarettes

to the doctors there.

And these doctors, they're
lining up to get them.

The R. J. Reynolds Company

sets up a medical
relations division.

This is a tobacco company

with a medical
relations division.

Their aim is pretty simple.

They wanna get doctors

to recommend smoking
to their patients.

And the craziest thing
is that it works.

By 1953, more than
half of America's

physicians are smokers.

And they are encouraging
their patients

to become smokers too.

Just imagine you
go to your doctor,

and he's taking a
pull of a cigarette,

and he's advising you that
you should smoke yourself

to calm your nerves.

And not only are they
just recommending this

to regular people,

they're also recommending
this to pregnant women.

Obviously now we know that
smoking during pregnancy

is an absolute no-no.

But in the 1940s and the 1950s,

doctors are actually
encouraging women to smoke

as a means of
calming their nerves

and keeping the weight off.

The recommendation
is relatively short-lived.

In 1964, the surgeon
general issues a warning

laying out all the
dangers of smoking.

The medical profession at large

really takes a measure
of how dangerous

and how unhealthy
smoking can be.

The government didn't
just go after cigarettes.

In 1971, they also came for
the advertising industry,

banning cigarette commercials

on television and
radio to this day.

According to Mary Poppins,

a spoonful of sugar helps
the medicine go down.

But back in the day,
some doctors believed

that for medicine to be
effective, it needed to go up.

People have a very
different understanding

of gastric health
in the 21st century

than they have in
centuries gone by,

especially the way people viewed

the excretory parts of the body.

In the 1920s, the colon
has a really bad rap.

It's considered dirty,
it's never cleaned,

it's like the sewer
of the human body.

The common belief of
doctors at this time

was essentially that all of
the contaminants in the colon

could eventually pass
into the bloodstream

and cause catastrophic
illness throughout the body.

Physicians are
administering enemas

for all sorts of ailments,

headaches, indigestion,
heart palpitations.

And Americans are buying it.

The 1920s and '30s are known
as the golden age of purgation.

To get the
maximum purging effect,

doctors start adding ingredients
to their enema treatments.

Max Gerson is a German doctor

who experiments with all kinds
of nutritional interventions

to treat his own headache.

And he starts to
think about the fact

that caffeine constricts
blood vessels.

So what does he do?

He adds coffee to an enema.

If I was gonna pick
something to use as an enema,

why coffee?

Gerson's belief
is that the coffee

triggers sort of a domino
theory of detoxification.

The coffee enema
stimulates the liver,

which then produces more bile.

The bile then helps
flush more toxins

through the gallbladder,
through the small intestine,

through the large intestine,
and then out the body.

Gerson not only says
that this coffee enema

could cure migraines
and indigestion,

he also claims that it could
cure tuberculosis and cancer.

Strangely enough,
coffee enemas

seem to be a magic cure-all
that people can't get enough of.

He has a thriving
practice on Park Avenue.

He's on the staff at Gotham
Hospital in New York City.

He's even backed by
the Robinson Foundation

for cancer research.

People are practically lining
up for his coffee enemas.

The only catch is
that there's no evidence

that this actually works.

The National Cancer Institute

decides to investigate
10 of Dr. Gerson's cases,

and they find no evidence

of any efficacy of
his cures for cancer.

It's basically determined

that Gerson is
completely full of it.

Not only are coffee enemas
particularly ineffective,

they're unbelievably dangerous.

They can cause damage to
the rectum, the colon,

they can cause nerve damage,

and they can cause terrible
burns if the coffee is hot,

which is kind of, like, obvious.

Despite Dr. Gerson's claims,

people determined they'd rather
have their coffee in a cup.

That doesn't mean that
beverages were off the table

for medical purposes.

Take a pair of Canadian doctors

who were desperate to
fight cholera in the 1850s.

Cholera is a
really destructive,

incredibly debilitating
intestinal sickness.

It causes agonizing cramping,
massive dehydration,

and terrible diarrhea.

And it's so severe

a person can die within
hours of contracting it.

In 1854,

Toronto doctors James
Bovell and Edward Hodder

are desperately
searching for a cure.

White blood cells
had been discovered

about a decade
earlier in Europe,

and Dr. Bovell was investigating
their effects on disease.

Dr. Hodder comes
up with the idea

that maybe he could
cure cholera patients

with blood transfusions.

But Bovell was sort of
like, "Dude, it's a pandemic.

What if the people
are actually sick

and this blood is no good?"

Dr. Hodder starts wondering

if there's some sort of
substitute they can use.

And because Dr. Hodder was
only as advanced as the 1850s,

he decides that the liquid
to use for blood transfusions

is milk.

They have a
very specific reason

why they think their
idea will work.

It sounds crazy right
now, but it's the 1850s,

and they're sort of
like, "Milk is white,

white blood cells are
white, it's the same."

The doctors
need a human subject.

And in the middle of
a cholera outbreak,

desperate patients are
eager for any solution.

A farmer turns
up at the hospital

extremely sick with cholera

and willing to let them do
the first milk transfusion.

They take this guy

into this shack that they
were using for smallpox

and then they get a
cow, like, in the room.

These doctors collect the milk

and they inject it
into the man's veins.

Now, at first, nothing happens.

So they give him more
milk, and more milk.

Ultimately, they give him 12
ounces of milk intravenously.

And miraculously, his
symptoms start reversing.

His color comes
back to his face,

his pulse returns to normal.

This is working.

They repeat this procedure
the following day with a woman

and see the same
sort of recovery.

Milk transfusions
seem like the safe

and effective treatment
people have been hoping for.

There's so much excitement
about this process.

And they try it on
five more patients

who all end up totally dying.

It didn't work.

But because there have
been some successes,

milk transfusions
become fairly popular

in terms of treating cholera.

They also become a popular
way to treat tuberculosis

and other infections.

The lucky ones complain
about new ailments,

like chest pain and headaches.

The other ones not so lucky,

they enter into a
coma and not wake up.

But to be fair,
back in the day,

transfusions are still a
little bit of high science

and there's still a lot
more to learn about them.

Half a century later,

when doctors finally
understood blood types,

a doctor from Ohio created
the transfusion methods

that surgeons rely on today.

The late 20th
century was notorious

for bizarre weight loss
fads, peaking in the 1980s.

But for one weight loss product,

the story started a
few decades earlier.

In the 1920s, there
was a whole diet culture

that existed then, and
it was almost exclusively

about diet restriction, and
they called it reducing.

Doctors are
advising their patients

to reduce their size
through diet and exercise.

But it's kind of a crappy time
to have to be counting calories

because this is when the
American food landscape

has just unleashed PEZ candies,
and the Charleston Chew,

the Baby Ruth, the
Reese's Peanut Butter Cup.

So there's a real desire
for a silver bullet.

Can I just take a pill or a shot
that'll make me lose weight?

So in 1941, the Carlay Company

comes out with the most
amazing product ever,

Carlay's reducing candy.

It's called reducing candy

because it helps you
reduce your size, right?

It helps you lose weight.

It comes in multiple flavors.

There's peanut butter,
butterscotch, chocolate,

chocolate mint, and caramel.

And it's like a
fudge consistency.

So the idea is it's not
so much a magic pill

but a yummy treat
that you can enjoy.

So how does
this reducing candy work?

Carlay's secret ingredient
is called benzocaine.

And if that sounds familiar,

it's because it's
the active ingredient

in products like Orajel.

Benzocaine causes numbing.

And if you were to put
this stuff in your mouth

and on your lips, it
would cause numbness.

The thinking is if you eat
a reducing candy before meals,

it will numb your taste buds.

And because you can't
taste much of anything,

you're gonna eat less.

So as they start to
market this product,

they do what a lot of companies
do, they go to celebrities.

So it's Hedy Lamarr
and Zsa Zsa Gabor.

And they just seem to be
leading the perfect life.

They can have this yummy
candy and look fabulous.

Sales of Carlay's
reducing candy keep growing.

And by the early 1980s, Carlay
is one of the top sellers

in the $10 billion a
year diet industry.

But they're about
to hit a major snag.

Shakespeare once said,
"What's in a name?"

The truth is that
a name means a lot.

Carlay's product had a name

that had worked
amazingly for 40 years,

until it didn't anymore.

Why not try Ayds?

Delicious tasting Ayds candy.

Ayds helps you
stay the way you wanna be.

Fate throws them a
pretty big curve ball.

Carlay's reducing
candy has been sold

under the same brand
name since the 1940s.

Before
reducing, see your doctor,

then get Ayds.

Ayds, A-Y-D-S.

I kid you not.

Can you imagine an arthritis
cream called cancer?

Oh, it's my new chocolate
bar. I call it Covid.

No one's gonna buy it.

Now here we are in the 1980s.

Ayds means something
really different.

As the AIDS epidemic grows,
people's fears increase,

and sales of Ayds, the diet
candy, start to plummet.

The company's CEO

lobbies to have the name
of the disease changed.

When that doesn't work,

he spends a quarter
of a million dollars

to rebrand as Diet Ayds.

It doesn't work either.

Ayds Reducing Candy finally
stopped production in 1985,

probably for the best.

If only candy could
numb you during surgery

in the early 1900s.

To finally stop the pain
on the operating table,

they had to turn to
something far different.

For centuries,
the very idea of an operation

is enough to strike fear
into the hearts of patients.

I watch Civil War movies,

and there's always some guy
with a belt in his mouth

or biting on a bullet,

while some sawbones is
just going to town,

cutting off that leg and
tossing it onto a pile of legs.

It isn't until
the late 19th century

that doctors find ways to
relieve pain during operations.

The first successful
surgery with anesthesia

is performed in 1846
when a Bostonian dentist

uses a gas called ether
to sedate a patient.

The following year, an
obstetrician in Scotland

ended up using chloroform

on a patient
experiencing labor pains.

In 1863, a New York professor
popularizes nitrous oxide.

The problem with
all of these though

is they're all
general anesthesia.

You're completely knocked out,

and you're walking
a really fine line

between life and death if you
administer the wrong dosage.

Doctors
are on the lookout

for something a
little more localized

and a little less fatal.

And Dr. Karl Koller from
Austria has just the thing,

cocaine.

Koller understands the
numbing effects of cocaine

and decides to
use it in surgery.

The particular
thing about Dr. Koller

is that he's an ophthalmologist.

He's injecting cocaine
into people's eyeballs.

Today that kind
of sounds insane,

but at the time
it's revolutionary.

By injecting cocaine
directly in the eye,

he can stabilize a patient
enough to operate in a place

where no one could
ever operate before.

So William Halsted,

an American doctor,
hears about this

and says, "Oh, well, if
it works with the eye,

maybe it works with
other parts of the body."

Halsted starts
experimenting on himself

and then invites
colleagues to join him.

Pretty soon, they're
all injecting

their peripheral nerves

to see if other parts of
the body will go numb,

not just their eye.

And they realize,
wow, this works, right?

This solves a major problem.

So they start using
cocaine as an anesthesia.

Dr. Holsted

thinks he found the holy
grail of anesthesiology,

except for one little detail.

Halsted and his colleagues

become completely
addicted to cocaine.

Two of his colleagues
die within months.

Halsted himself spends
the rest of his life

in and out of recovery.

Despite the wealth
of information

that he garners from
his investigations,

he only publishes one paper,

who's rambling incoherence
probably suggests

that Halsted was high
at the time of writing.

In 1914, the
government makes cocaine

an illegal substance.

But you still have to
credit Dr. Halsted.

The modern medical field
would not be where it is

and what it is without him.

The good doctor's risk-taking

led to huge advancements
in local anesthesia.

Who doesn't love the
sound of a cooing baby

or a giggling one when
you tickle their feet?

Well, back in the 19th century,

when those cute sounds
turned to cries,

where did exhausted parents

turn to soothe their
unhappy children?

In the 1800s,
traditional medicine

in the way we have
it now, didn't exist.

There weren't these big
pharmaceutical companies.

So they had a thing
called patent medicine.

Patent medicine is
basically the precursor

to over the counter drugs,

and they promise
to cure everything.

And I do mean everything,
colds, headaches, heartburn,

warts, baldness, even
tuberculosis and cancer.

If patent medicine
is on the label,

people have a sense of security
about what they're buying.

The problem is
there's no guarantee

that the maker has any idea

about the ingredients
they're using.

It's basically like the
Wild West of pharmaceuticals.

Anyone can concoct
sort of anything

and claim that it's medicine.

Enter
Charlotte Winslow

and her son-in-law
Jeremiah Curtis.

In 1845, they patent
a miracle cure

specifically designed
for teething babies.

They call it Mrs.
Winslow's Soothing Syrup.

So Jeremiah Curtis
runs a pharmacy.

And he takes Mrs.
Winslow's Soothing Syrup

and starts selling
it out to the public.

Part of what makes patent
medicine work is testimonials,

both word of mouth
and in advertising.

And Jeremiah Curtis
really leans into this.

Jeremiah Curtis places ads

in thousands of newspapers
across the country.

The ads are testimonials,

mothers telling Mrs. Winslow
her cure is a miracle.

Not only does he get
testimonials from mothers,

he even gets testimonials
from reverends.

Who's gonna go against
the word of a reverend?

Sales of
Mrs. Winslow's

Soothing Syrup take off,

and not just because Curtis
is a marketing genius.

Unlike most patent medicines,
this one actually works.

Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup
claims to soothe children,

soften the gums, cure colic,

and be the best
cure for diarrhea.

What magical ingredient
could it possibly have

that could cure all these ails?

Well, that ingredient
turned out to be morphine.

And it's not a different
kind of morphine.

It's the morphine
you know about,

the kind they give to, like,
people on the battlefield

who've gotten
gunshots, grown adults.

Because it has morphine in it,

it really does offer
medical relief.

What it lacks is
something different,

which is a warning label
about its side effects.

Morphine is an incredibly
powerful painkiller

that's derived from opium.

Morphine has several
side effects.

Morphine causes constipation.

There's also extreme
addiction, drowsiness,

respiratory
depression, vomiting.

Mrs. Winslow makes bank
on this soothing syrup.

She is basically selling
1.5 million bottles annually

for decades.

She is creating a lot

of junkie babies.

Mrs. Winslow's
dosage recommendations

was around six
droplets for newborns,

a half teaspoon for babies
up to six months old,

and a full teaspoon for
babies over six months.

And these are to be administered
three to four times a day.

So let's just think
about this for a second.

Like, today, a hospital
would give an adult patient

two to four milligrams of
morphine to manage extreme pain.

These babies are sleeping
through the night

because they're getting
up to 40 milligrams

of morphine a day.

That's a massive quantity,

even by illicit drug
trafficking standards.

On the black market,
morphine might be sold

in 30 milligram tablets.

This is before
you have the AMA.

This is before doctors
are a profession.

So you don't have
this sort of pushback

from a medical establishment,
which allows for a product

like Mrs. Winslow's
Soothing Syrup

to explode in the marketplace.

Millions of people

are buying Mrs.
Winslow's Soothing Syrup.

They just want their kid
to sleep through the night.

This syrup is given to infants

that are already in a bad way.

They may be sick,
they may be teething,

which gives them a fever.

So it takes decades
before doctors figure out

that Mrs. Winslow's is
doing more harm than good.

Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Syrup

wasn't banned until the 1930s,

making it one of the longest
selling teething remedies

in US history.

The human body is resilient,

but sometimes it needs
a little help to heal.

And once upon a time, doctors
were a little more carefree

in looking for cures
in unusual places.

In the 19th century,

getting injured was an
unfortunate part of life,

farming accidents,
industrial accidents, fires.

People had short, nasty,
and brutish lives.

Today, if part of you
unfortunately goes missing

or is disfigured by an injury,
an accident, or a burn,

one of the first things
doctors will turn to

are skin grafts,
taking healthy skin

from a different
part of your body,

attaching it, its blood
supplies, nerve endings,

to the injured part of
the body, covering it up,

letting it heal, and
your life can go on.

Unfortunately, in the 1800s,
the risk of infection is high

because antibiotics
don't exist yet.

Another problem is the
lack of an anesthetic.

The pain will often
send the body into shock

and makes it even
that much more likely

that the patient will
reject the skin graft.

When grafts

from the patient's
own removed skin fail,

doctors start experimenting
with new procedures.

They come up with something
called a pedicled skin graft.

Where essentially
the healthy skin

from one part of the body

was still mostly attached
to that part of the body

and stretched to the
affected part of the body.

Doctors believed that
just like the roots

of a transplanted tree
will grow into the ground,

blood vessels of the
transplanted skin

will grow into the wound.

There are photos of people
who had lost a nose to syphilis

or had a facial injury

with their nose
stitched to their arm.

While this technique
sounds promising,

not many people signed
up to be skinned,

especially without some
heavy-duty anesthesia.

So doctors figure they'll
just try the next best thing,

and that is animal donors.

Sheep, dogs,
rabbits, chickens.

They don't care if it's got
fur, if it's got feathers.

As long as it's got skin, it's
fair game for doctors to use.

And they're thinking,
if it's a live animal,

there's a greater chance
that this might work.

Basically, they wanna
get a live animal,

peel their skin off,

and attach it to the
wound of the person.

This atmosphere is rampant
with bacteria and hazards.

How does the animal
go to the bathroom?

How do you maintain
the animal's immobility

so that the graft can take?

It is not a surprise

that there are no
reported successful cases

of this type of skin
graft ever taking place.

By the 1880s, several
surgeons are experimenting with

a different type of procedure
called a free skin graft.

The free skin graft does
not involve attaching oneself

to an immobile animal.

It involves removing
the skin from the animal

and then attaching
it to the patient.

Free skin grafts
are rabbit skin,

but doctors realize very quickly
that frog skin is better.

Not only does it seem to adapt
really well to a human host,

they don't have
to deal with fur.

There are reports of doctors
going to the local pond,

capturing, decapitating,
and skinning frogs,

throwing the skin
in their pocket,

and reporting to the hospital.

Honestly, you have to imagine
you were a patient back then

and you're relying on a doctor.

He's going out to get a frog

and he's gonna put
it in his pocket

and bring it back to
you to sew on to you.

That sounds safe.

It sounds to me like
something out of a horror movie.

"Human Centipede".

Doctors have to constantly
reassure their patients

that the green pigment

will eventually turn
the proper color.

The reason why there
is no green pigment

in the frog skin that is
grafted to human beings,

it's not because the pigment
dissipates, or fades,

or assimilates
with human pigment.

No, there's no pigment
because the skin cells die.

Despite performing hundreds
of grafts from animal donors,

not one of them works.

As it turns out, the skin
is the body's biggest organ.

And much like in a
heart transplant,

the recipient and the donor of
a skin graft must be a match.

So the thought that
a frog was gonna work

was a bit ridiculous
looking back.

In the search for remedies,

whether it was coffee
enemas, or milk transfusions,

or over the counter heroin,

there was a fine line between
recklessness and genius.

But maybe all of
that trial and error

is what led to
life-saving breakthroughs

and made our hazardous
history worth examining.