This story appeared on the front page of the Minneapolis Tribune. The accompanying graphic is helpful, but neither it nor the story explains how the patient will survive without a stomach.
THIS MAN WILL LIVE WITHOUT A STOMACH
The rare, delicate and dangerous operation of gastrectomy was performed on Jacob Wichmann in the German hospital, Brooklyn, recently. It was done to save Mr. Wichmann’s life, for he had a cancer of the stomach which would have soon killed him. He well stood the operation, which lasted three hours, and he has a fine chance to live. The surgeons cut through the patient’s abdominal walls, and raised the stomach. They then tied the end of the gullet and the beginning of the small intestine. The gullet was cut above, and the beginning of the small intestine was cut below the ligations. The stomach, thus free from its connections, was taken out through the incision in the abdominal walls. The surgeons then sewed together the ends of the gullet and of the small intestine, giving a continuous alimentary canal to Mr. Wichmann. Then the surgeons sewed up the wounds made by the knife.
More from Yesterday's News
In the mid-1890s, the Sterling Remedy Co. introduced Cascarets Candy Cathartic, a brown tablet marketed as a pleasant-tasting purgative. Before long, the company was selling more than 5 million boxes a year.
Eliza Winston, 30, arrived from Mississippi as chattel and, thanks to a Minneapolis judge, left as a free woman.
F.B. Chapman, photographer, 438 Wabasha street, and Byron Gibbs, his assistant, 228 East Seventh street, were seriously injured last evening by the explosion of a carbide tank used by Chapman in taking a flash light picture of two bowling teams at Chris Miller’s bowling alley, 221 East Seventh.
A Tribune editorial correctly predicted that restoring the original name, "Mendoza," would not stick.
What does it take to get Minneapolis to name a street after you?