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Personal reflection by Loes van Damme-Rietvelt
What caught my attention?
The first thing that caught my attention was not the priest, the room or even the people around the bed.
It was the leg.
Something is clearly terribly wrong.
Several people have gathered around the patient. One examines the affected limb closely. Another appears unable to ignore the smell coming from the wound. The patient has turned away from the leg and towards a religious figure standing beside the bed.
The scene immediately gave me the impression that everyone in the room understood the seriousness of the situation.
Looking closer
The Leg
The lower leg is swollen, discoloured and heavily bandaged. Even without medical training, it is obvious that this is not a minor injury.
The Caregivers
Two figures are closely examining the wound. Their hands are completely unprotected. Today we hardly notice how remarkable that is, because gloves, antisepsis and sterile procedures have become part of everyday medicine.
The Patient
Rather than looking at the wound, the patient turns toward the religious figure. A hand appears to hold a small object, perhaps a rosary, medal or devotional item.
The Figure Covering the Nose
One of the most striking details is the figure who seems to cover the nose while lifting the dressing. To a modern viewer, this suggests the unpleasant smell often associated with severe infected wounds and tissue breakdown.
What does it make me think about?
When I look at this painting, I find myself thinking about how terrifying severe infections must have been before modern microbiology.
Today, when a patient develops a serious wound infection, doctors have an enormous range of diagnostic tools available. We can culture bacteria, identify pathogens, perform imaging studies and prescribe antibiotics.
None of that existed when this scene was painted.
The people surrounding this patient could see the swollen limb. They could smell the infection. They could observe the suffering.
But they had no understanding of bacteria.
Art historian and physician Jan Dequeker suggested that the condition may represent chronic osteomyelitis, while other authors have proposed gangrene as an alternative diagnosis. Whatever the precise nature of the disease, the painting depicts a severe infection that has progressed far beyond a simple wound.
What fascinates me is the contrast between medicine and faith.
On one side of the bed, people attempt to treat the disease.
On the other, a religious figure stands ready to provide spiritual comfort.
The painting seems to capture a moment when hope resides in both worlds.
What has (not) changed?
Much has changed since this painting was created.
We have discovered bacteria.
We understand how infections develop.
We can identify organisms such as Staphylococcus aureus and Streptococcus pyogenes.
We have antibiotics.
Since the discovery of penicillin by Alexander Fleming, medicine has been transformed beyond recognition.
Yet this painting also carries an important warning.
Antimicrobial resistance is increasing worldwide. Bacteria continue to adapt to the drugs we use against them. Resistant organisms such as MRSA remind us that the battle against infection is never permanently won.
A simple wound once had the potential to become a life-threatening, foul-smelling infection for which little could be done.
For centuries, that was normal.
This painting reminds us how fortunate we are to live in an age of microbiology, antibiotics and modern medical care. At the same time, it reminds us that these achievements should never be taken for granted.
If we fail to use antibiotics responsibly, we risk moving closer to the world depicted in this painting than we would like to imagine.
Artwork Information
Artist: Giovanni Battista Crespi (Il Cerano)
Title: Miracles of Saint Charles Borromeo
Location: Duomo di Milano, Milan, Italy
Dimensions: approximately 3.60 × 2.40 metres