The Lobotomist's Wife(17)

Chapter Seven


On July 17, 1935, the newly wedded Dr. and Mrs. Robert Apter boarded the SS Manhattan, the official steamer of the Second International Neurological Congress, to make their way to London for the main event. Robert had signed them up for the complete tour—with several stops in England on the way to London, and an extension in Brussels and Paris after the congress. While many newlyweds would look at three weeks of travel with a host of American neurologists—punctuated in the middle by a multiday meeting in a large university hall—as a downright rotten way to spend their honeymoon, for Ruth, it was a dream come true. She might have protested the extension, as it would add an additional week away from her patients, but she supposed it would be romantic to have a moonlit stroll with Robert in Paris, perhaps even a kiss in front of the Eiffel Tower. It would certainly be a much better visit than past trips when her mother dragged her to the family’s pied-à-terre for endless days at the ateliers of every major couturier.

As an added benefit, the travel to the Continent and the days of touring with other US delegates offered an unprecedented opportunity for her to connect with some of the greatest minds in the field. Ruth didn’t expect to attend the congress itself, so she seized the opportunity to meet and speak to the men during her days on the ship.

She felt fortunate that Robert treated her as a colleague even in this setting. During their elaborate dinners on the ship, he always included her in his conversations with the other neurologists. Instead of relegating her to insufferable discussions about cabin and dining room décor or the merits of the ship’s chef with the other wives who were taking advantage of the European holiday this conference offered them, Robert welcomed Ruth into debates about the role of early childhood trauma in the developing brain, and explanations of the study of cerebral spinal fluid in disease diagnosis.

The most interesting dinner companion during their pre-congress travels was by far John Fulton. Ruth learned that he was transporting several chimpanzees in the ship’s cargo hold for a presentation about the prefrontal lobe. She marveled at the idea of bringing monkeys on a transcontinental voyage, but more than that, she had learned from Robert that the brain’s prefrontal lobe might be important in developing new approaches in the treatment of insanity. She made a note to encourage Robert to attend Dr. Fulton’s presentation at the congress. She would have loved to observe it herself, but that was too much to hope for.

When the first morning of the Second International Neurological Congress finally arrived, Robert roused her with the rising sun. “Wake up, wake up! We need to eat so we can get our exhibition properly installed before the day begins.”

Ruth looked at Robert quizzically. “Our exhibition?”

“Why, yes, we need to set up all my photos and research properly so they can be seen by as many attendees as possible!”

“You want me to come with you?” She hadn’t dared to consider that Robert would invite her to join him at the actual congress. In fact, at her mother’s insistence, she had even arranged a dreaded day of shopping with Mona von Bismarck, and that dull socialite only had two topics of conversation: the latest fashions and the wealthy older gentlemen she always seemed to be dating. Having an excuse to skip that was enough to make Ruth gleeful in its own right, but if she was to be at the congress . . . why, it was just too exciting to imagine.

“Of course, my darling. I expect you to be by my side for the entirety of the program. I know how much this interests you. Besides, there are so many demonstrations that we’ll undoubtedly need two sets of eyes just to take it all in!”

Ruth scrambled out of bed and went immediately to the closet. She would likely be the only woman at the convention and needed to dress as professionally as possible. She selected a brown jacket and simple pleated skirt in a dusty rose, with a modest hat to top off the ensemble. As she laced up her oxfords, she laughed to herself, thinking her mother would be appalled by her choice of shoes without a heel, but she would be on her feet all day and didn’t want her mind distracted by discomfort.

Robert explained the basic format of the next several days while they ate a small breakfast of eggs and toast, and then taxied to Gower Street to the University College. As they walked through the columned portico of the imposing institution, the sight of what she estimated to be over two hundred men setting up small demonstrations stunned her. She held tight to the map, worried that she might get lost without it. Robert, on the other hand, strolled casually, smiling and nodding at colleagues and seeming entirely at ease. Having attended the first congress in Bern several years prior, Robert knew many of the European delegates busily preparing to tout their latest research on the floor of the Great Hall.

Ruth was buzzing. Being able to listen, learn, and mingle with this breadth of great thinkers eclipsed every slight from her childhood, every moment she had been locked out of Bernard’s study, every time she had been deemed a “foolish girl.”

“Oh, this is excellent, I think they have put us next to Dr. Egas Moniz!” Robert waved in the direction of an older man who looked quite unwell. “Dr. Moniz?” Striding ahead of Ruth, Robert reached for the bulbous, swollen hand of the man occupying the stall next to theirs. “Dr. Robert Apter. I am honored to meet you, sir. I saw your presentation on cerebral angiography and was quite impressed. I, too, have developed a technique for capturing images of the brain. It is what I will be demonstrating here this week!”