Review: "Tadpoles in the Milk" by Mildred Roseman Gackle

Tadpoles in the Milk by Mildred Roseman Gackle
Published November 2018 via Wasteland Press
★★★

In 1950, Gackle set off for rural Kenya. She'd taken a position as a missionary nurse, and she stayed for the better part of a decade, until persistent illness took her home.

I didn't realize the time frame when I picked this up—I hadn't clocked the author's name, which might have given me a clue, and I guess I assumed that this was a much more recent experience. I was interested in the book for the medical-care-in-a-different-context aspect (what can I say, I like medical memoir), but the time frame ended up being one of the more compelling aspects.

Some things fascinated me: At one point some women in the community were scared by a streak in the sky, and Gackle writes that Fortunately some of the missionaries returning from the States had told us about these marks and the new planes that made them (96). To think how recent that was! I mean—Gackle was in a different generation (she died in 2024 at the age of 100), and this was literally a lifetime ago, but still.

Later, she describes an event where the missionary doctor came in and said we were going to have to do something we had never done before, and we needed to get started right away. [...] We had never done a blood transfusion. (102) A blood transfusion as the height of modern medicine! I suppose I shouldn't be surprised—if I remember correctly, there's a Cherry Ames book from roughly the same time period that I think also discusses blood transfusions in very basic terms—but it's just...a reminder of what limited means they had, I suppose. To add to this, the mission hospital had electricity but not plumbing, so (for example) scrubbing in for surgery involved washing with water that had been hauled in and boiled.

Other things horrified me: During the Mau Mau Rebellion, the colonial government issued guidelines to protect oneself...and those guidelines included things like "do not let Africans walk behind you" and "be suspicious of all Africans" (28). Again, I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but really! What rot! Fortunately Gackle realized pretty quickly that that wasn't a way to live, and she writes about the locals with respect and affection, but it was striking to read.

Or this (Ernie being the lone doctor): Ernie's habit was to pray with each patient before surgery. He briefly explained the plan of salvation, asked if he or she would like to accept Jesus as Savior right then, and followed with a short prayer for health and recovery for the patient and for wisdom and guidance for us. (105) I understand that this was a mission hospital, and conversions were paramount (perhaps more so than medicine, as we'll discuss in a moment), but this troubled me. Here the doctor was in a position of significant power—a white man in a colonial setting, presumably the most educated person for miles around, the only person for miles around who was capable of performing surgery, the patient's life literally in his hands. The pressure to accede to the doctor's request must be immense in that context, no? Whether or not you fully understood what he meant, and whether or not you wanted to.

This story is told in the context of those blood transfusions, and—mild spoiler, sorry—the patient survived the surgery but ultimately didn't make it. What he did do was tell his wives that they were Christian now, and so his story is treated as a success: What to include when I had an opportunity to speak [in the States, about mission work] was easier this second furlough. [...] The story of Arap Segem, his three wives, his blood transfusions and his conversion was a good way of demonstrating the value of having a doctor at Tenwek. (111) Now...I understand that I'm coming at this from a different context and background and so on, but oh gosh. If I'm ever in hospital, I really don't want it to be a hospital where the medical staff will consider it a success if I die so long as they manage to convert me to their religion before that happens.

With all that in mind...Gackle's telling makes for a lively book, and she seems like a good person to know. The obituary I found said that she'd written this with her grandchildren in mind, and I do hope they'll keep copies in her memory.