DISCOVERER OF DIABETES CURE

Dominion, Volume 30, Issue 261, 31 July 1937, Page 6 (Supplement)

DISCOVERER OF DIABETES CURE

Dr. F. G. Banning’s Triumph If you had called Frederick Grant Banting a genius, he would have laughed, says a writer. He little knew of the destiny awaiting him. He was a sound surgeon, a plodder rather than a man of instinctive brilliance. And he made so little impression on the people of Loudon, Ontario, that his first month’s takings amounted to only four dollars, says a writer in the “New Chronicle.” It wasn’t good enough. He had to oat, to dress,' he had rent to pay. So he applied for a part-time post as demonstrator to the Western Ontario Medical School. Some mouths after he had taken up his appointment, a middleaged man called on Banting to seek his advice on, the dread disease from which he was suffering. That disease was diabetes. _ . Banting knew that <i diabetic had a surplus of sugar in the body, because for some unknown reason the sugar could not be converted into the warmth and energy of good health. In civilised communities one person in hundred suffered from diabetes. Nearly everv case proved fatal. Bunting treated his patient on the recognised lines, prescribing a diet of non-sngar foods. But such treatment was dissatisfying. It was not a cure: it merely prolonged the agony. As a student he had been told of the experiment of the two Germans, Herring and Minskowski, who had excised tlio pancreas gland from a' dog. Within ten days the dog was dead—from diabetes. Nobody could explain it, although it was known that in humans and animals the pancreas gland played an important part in digestion. Then Banting read that another German experimenter. Langerhans, had noticed some peculiar cells in the pancreas. They seemed to have no purpose, these so-called “island cells. And they were different from any other cells in the body. Then one evening he saw an article by a man named Moses Baron, who said that when a gallstone blocked the duct of the pancreas, the gland degenerated, but, the ’•island cells” within it remained strong and healthy. Didn't this mean that the "island cells” were continuing with a particular job of work all on their own? And supposing that job was to burn up body sugar, to prevent diabetes? Nobody had thought of that before. On a momentous night in October. 1921', Banting went to bed, his brain busy on his new theory. He doz.d. and at 2 o’clock in the morning woke with great inspiration upon him. If he could extract the juice of healthy “island cells” from an animal, he might have something that would conquer diabetes. Then he went to sleep.

M’luit next? Theorising wtis all very well. It was up to him to start practical researches. lint that cost money, and Banting was still a poor man. He went to see I’rol’essor MacLeod, of Toronto University. He imide his demands: a laboratory, an assistant, and a supply of dogs. He asked for no salary, only the means lo prove to the world that he was right.

His request was granted, and a time limit of eight weeks was given him to show what he could do. His assistant, Charles Best, was :i young medical student who bad already shown some skill hi the sugar analysis of blood. Seven of the eight weeks were given to the preparation of the pancreatic juice which Banting had christened “isletin." Thon, on a warm, July morning, an extract was pumped into tlie veins of a dog very nearly dead from diabetes. An hour later Best made a blood test. "The sugar’s down!” he cried. “It’s almost normal!’’ They were almost delirious with delight. But not for long. When they arrived at the laboratory the next morning the dog was dead. That happened not once, but many times. Time ran on, and Banting, who had to pay Best for his services, was nearly out of funds. But he would not give up, and persuaded Professor MacLeod lo extend tlie time limit. One day in November there came into tlie ’laboratory not a dog, but a mini, seriously ill with diabetes. He was Dr, Gilchrist, an old friend of Banting’s. 'They injected him. After an hour his blood sugar was undiminislted, and Banting, tired out, went home. But Best stopped on, and gave tlie heroic Gilchrist another injection. It was an injection that made history. In a very short while Gilchrist’s sugar had fallen. He could breathe more easily, he felt stronger. Professor MacLeod waited to hear no more. The time for experiment was over; Banting was right, and the world must be quick to benefit. The staff of the laboratories worked desperately to turn out the pancreatic extract—now called "insulin” by MacLeod’s request —for tlie thousands of sufferers who were clamouring for it. And Banting, found himself a celebrity.