The Doctor Wore Petticoats: Women Physicians of the Old West Read Free

County. Bethenia agreed to help her ailing sister in exchange for the chance to attend and teach school in Astoria. After arriving back in Oregon, Bethenia immediately went to work soliciting students for a summer-school term. Her dauntless will and determination are evident in Bethenia’s recollection of the experience:
    I succeeded in getting the promise of sixteen pupils, for which I was to receive $2 for three months. This was my first attempt to instruct others. I taught my school in the Old Presbyterian Church, the first Presbyterian Church building ever erected in Oregon.
    Of my sixteen pupils there were three who were more advanced than myself, but I took their books home with me nights and with the help of my brother-in-law I managed to prepare the lessons beforehand, and they never suspected my incompetency.
     
    In the fall of 1861, Bethenia again enrolled in school. The principal of the institution assisted her with her work when needed. She awoke at four o’clock every morning to study, determined to take full advantage of the “great opportunity” she had been given. Within nine months Bethenia had completed her high school education. Before and after attending classes, she kept up with her variety of labor-intensive jobs and gave special attention to her son.
    Bethenia’s thirst for knowledge did not subside after graduation. Her fondness for nursing and caring for sick friends and family sparked a desire to study medicine. Her superior talent in hat design and dressmaking helped her to raise the necessary funds to attend medical school. She became truly committed to the calling after witnessing an elderly doctor’s inability to care properly for a small child:
    The old physician in my presence attempted to use an instrument for the relief of the little sufferer, and, in his long, bungling, and unsuccessful attempt he severely lacerated the tender flesh of the poor little girl. At last, he laid down the instrument, to wipe his glasses. I picked it up saying, “Let me try, Doctor,” and passed it instantly, with perfect ease, bringing immediate relief to the tortured child.
     
    That momentous event set in motion the course of Bethenia’s new profession.
    Words of encouragement for Bethenia’s goal were few and far between, however. In fact, once she made her career plans known, only two people supported her. One was a trusted physician, who loaned her his medical books; the other was a judge, who applauded her ambition and assured her that she “would win.” Most of Bethenia’s family and friends were opposed to her becoming a doctor. They sneered and laughed and told her it was a disgrace for a woman to enter into such work. Bethenia disregarded their warnings and criticism, and pressed on toward her objective.
    Bethenia began her studies at the Philadelphia Eclectic School of Medicine in 1870. Students at the college learned ways to treat the sick using herbs, mineral baths, and natural medicines. After a two-year absence from her home and son George, who was with her parents, Bethenia returned to Roseburg eager to set up a practice. The controversy that surrounded her after the autopsy incident, however, forced her to open an office in Portland instead. The ground floor of her Portland facilities had two rooms that she fitted for eclectic and medicated baths. Several patients sought out her unorthodox method of dealing with sickness and pain, and in no time, her business was making a profit. Bethenia could then afford to send nineteen-year-old George to the UC Berkeley Medical School. He graduated in 1874.
    Although Doctor Owens’s eclectic medical practice was prosperous, she was not satisfied. She pined for more knowledge in her chosen field. On September 1, 1878, she left Portland for Philadelphia, to seek counsel from a professor at her former college. She was advised to attend the University of Michigan, and she left at once to enroll:
    Arriving there, I was soon settled, and in my seat for