I spent some time in a hospital room recently, visiting. The atmosphere was distinctly technological: screens, flashing lights, mechanical beds, not to mention numerous pharmaceuticals. I was brought up short by the appearance of a device that was more Florence Nightingale than Big Pharma: a bedpan. The bedpan was plastic, but I’d always thought of them as glazed metal. Early bedpans were made of ceramic and were heavy affairs. A famous bedpan, made of pewter, belonged to Martha and George Washington, but the device is much older than the Colonial period. The Science Museum in London has a collection of old British and French bedpans, ingenious designs in which the hollow handle doubles as a pouring spout. The oldest model, made of glazed earthenware, is vaguely dated “1501-1700.” The earlier date suggests that the origin of the bedpan might be medieval. That inventive period gave us the windmill, the printing press, and eyeglasses—and perhaps the bedpan. Apropos of nothing, I came across a humorous reference: the British suburban railway line linking the city of Bedford to London’s St Pancras station is nicknamed the Bedpan Line.
Photo:Bedpan, 1501-1700
