My Lobotomy

Howard Dully before his lobotomy

The other day, I heard one of the best stories I’ve ever heard on NPR — one of those stories you think about for years.

I can’t say I really recommend it, since it’s extremely troubling and sad, and rather rage-inducing. But when a piece of art — such as a radio documentary — is very, very well done and needs to be done, it’s hard for me not to feel uplifted. Good work is rewarding, regardless.

The story is about Howard Dully, who had a transorbital lobotomy (also known as an “ice pick lobotomy”) in 1960 at the age of 12, at the hands of the procedure’s inventor, Dr. Walter Freeman. Howard leads the listener through his search to figure out what exactly happened, and why his father and stepmother had the procedure performed.

At one point in the documentary, Howard reads from his medical records, to which he has finally gained access:

HOWARD: It’s pretty much as I suspected … my stepmother hated me. I never understood why, but it was clear she’d do anything to get rid of me … Evidently she heard about Dr. Freeman and figured he could help.

DR. FREEMAN: Mrs. Dully called up to say that Howard has been unbelievably defiant with a savage look on his face and at times she is almost afraid. He doesn’t react either to love or to punishment. He objects to going to bed but then sleeps well. He does a good deal of daydreaming and when asked about it he says “I don’t know.” He turns the room’s lights on when there is broad sunlight outside. He hates to wash…

November 30th. Mrs. Dully came in for a talk about Howard. Things have gotten much worse and she can barely endure it. I explained to Mrs. Dully, that the family should consider the possibility of changing Howard’s personality by means of transorbital lobotomy. Mrs Dully said it was up to her husband, that I would have to talk with him and make it stick.

December 3 1960. Mr and Mrs Dully have apparently decided to have Howard operated on. I suggested them not tell Howard anything about it.

The documentary tells Freeman’s story too, and with much more sympathy than you’d expect — but with less sympathy than others seem to have. I think it’s good for the mind and the soul to try to embrace, for a little while, ideas you find abhorrent … and sympathy for Freeman is certainly a case to sharpen these skills.

Freeman did his work in a very trying era. Patients and families no longer thought of mental illness as some sort of demonic possession, or the like — they medicalized mental illness instead, which should have been a step in the right direction. But they did so before there were any real medical treatments for essentially any mental health problems. With doctors facing extremly ill patients and desparate families, and armed with virtually no treatments, the conditions were ripe for someone like Freeman to come along, with his pick and his mallet.

… well … no, it doesn’t really fly with me either …