Remembering Prof. C. C. de Silva

By Dr Upul Wijayawardhana

Memories of this remarkable, colourful personality came flooding back after reading Prof Sanath Lamabadusuriya’s tribute “Prof. C. C. de Silva: Appreciation on his119th Birth Anniversary (The Island, February 24), especially the start of my medical career. Although almost 59 years have elapsed, I vividly remember April 20, 1964, when I started my medical career spanning 47 years across two countries. I was in ward one of Lady Ridgeway Hospital for Children well before the ‘boss’ arrived and the first familiar person I met was the outgoing intern house officer. On seeing me she blurted “Upul, why the hell have you come to work with this man?” It was pretty obvious that she has had tough six months and was keen to get out!

With a sense of trepidation, made worse by her comments, I waited anxiously for the arrival of the grey-haired, bespectacled, portly professor with a beaming smile. Seeing the fresh face, he looked down and asked me “So, you are the new intern. What made you come to me?” When I replied “Sir, I want to start my career working under a great man”. His broad smile with his characteristic huff, not at all nasty, meant that I had made a good start. It indeed was the beginning of a treasured association that lasted till the death of Prof Cholmondeley Charmers de Silva on 20th May 1987.

The first time I met Prof CC was three or four months before I started working for him, as a final year medical student to do the “Paediatric professorial appointment” lasting two weeks; an appointment that medical students feared most as it concluded with a viva. If one failed it, the appointment would be repeated and, in our case, it would lead to postponing the final examination. Fortunately for us, at the end of our appointment, Prof CC gave us a choice; either face the viva or go with him to see smallpox patients in IDH. Without any hesitation, all 10 in our group opted to go to IDH! We feared the smallpox virus less than Prof CC’s viva! I am personally very thankful to him for the opportunity given, as we were among the last to see smallpox cases, the 1963 epidemic being the last.

Apparently, Prof CC was in the habit of calling his juniors late at night to get information but by the time I started working at LRH, no telephone calls were allowed to house officer’s quarters after 10pm, a request granted by the administration mostly to avoid Prof CC’s calls! He overcame this by ringing ward 1 and getting the nurses to send a message through the call-boy, who was tasked with carrying urgent messages. I too was at the receiving end of this on many occasions and it turned out to be nothing urgent but to get some information for research he was doing.

One night a child was admitted with fitting and I did everything possible but the mean streak in me made me disturb Prof CC around the time of his deepest sleep. I gave the story which was followed up by a series of questions which I answered, when Prof CC said, “You have done everything, so why are you ringing me?”. I do not know where I got the strength from but said “How does it feel sir to be woken up from deep sleep?” I expected the worst the following morning but Prof CC greeted me with a big smile. I could not have done that and got away with any other boss of mine and it stands testimony to the greatness of this colourful personality. In fact, I never got a ‘nuisance-call’ after that and when I came to know him better, I teased him by relating this episode which met with his typical ‘huff’!

Although he was a tough task-master, he backed his juniors to the hilt. One day, in the dead of the night, a girl was brought in with obstructed breathing due to diphtheria and, as a surgeon could not be found, my colleague Arjuna Aluwihare, who later became a professor of surgery, and I took the child to the theatre and did an urgent tracheotomy: make an opening in the windpipe at the neck to facilitate breathing. When the authorities attempted to take action against us for doing this, which they considered beyond our abilities, Prof CC stepped in, telling them that we had done nothing wrong except saving a child’s life!

All his toughness vanished during Christmas! He would arrive with a huge suitcase with gifts to everyone, down to the labourers, which made all of them forget what a slave-driver he was! He did not forget Christmas gifts to the children in the ward either. Prof CC enjoyed inviting medical staff, as well as ex-staff, to his country residence. On many occasions, I too was invited with my wife and children and we were fortunate to meet and associate with his charming wife Irene and daughter Ilika. I still remember vividly the sumptuous meals served by Mrs Irene de Silva, who had silver hair tied in a bun at the top of the head and a broad smile all the time.

One day, in early 1984, while I was working as Assistant Cardiologist, Prof CC burst into my office and chucked a piece of paper in front of me and said “Sign this and send”. When I looked at it, it was a proposal for me to be elected a fellow of the Royal College of Physicians, London. I told him “Sir, it is too early, I have time”. He retorted “I know you have time but I don’t. I want to see you honoured for your work before I die.” I held back tears with difficulty realising the rarity of such appreciation by a senior!

A year or two later, he visited similarly when he was diagnosed with heart failure, to tell me that I had to treat him. It was the greatest honour I have ever had.

He was a wonderful patient, a model patient indeed, who accepted immortality with grace. When I suggested that he go abroad for a valve replacement, he said “Upul, I am too old for all these interventions. I have had a wonderful life and it is time to go!”. I was moved to tears when his daughter, the well-known columnist Mrs Ilika Karunaratne recently told me “Upul, I know how much my father loved you and appreciated all you did as his physician”

It is rare to meet such colourful, wonderful personalities like Prof CC and what I found was that he was just the opposite of what my predecessor described on my first day of work. It is a pity that we do not see such great characters anymore. I consider myself very fortunate that I was able to start my medical career by working under a great man; a giant in our profession!