appointment.html
Appointment of Deputy Editor
We extend a hearty welcome to Dr Razaan Davis who joins the editorial board of the SAJR
as Deputy Editor. Razaan became a Fellow of the College of Diagnostic
Radiologists of South Africa in October 2009, qualifying as a Master of
Medicine, specialising in radiology, at the University of Cape Town.
She commenced duties as a senior consultant in the Division of
Diagnostic Radiology at Tygerberg Hospital in August 2010. She is an
excellent teacher and competent administrator, and also at present a
moderator for the Stellenbosch University modular course in diagnostic
radiology.
At the time of assuming the SAJR
editorship with Volume 12, Issue 1 in 2008, I alluded to the necessity
of always being aware of the need to bring in new blood, and am
delighted at Razaan’s appointment accordingly. At the time, I
drew on a line from the Aeneid by Virgil (70 - 19 BC): Vires acquirit eundo
[Gathering strength as it goes.]. I wish to reconfirm this, and we look
forward to ongoing gathering of strength as we proceed into the next
half-decade.
Jan Lotz
Editor-in-Chief
IN MEMORIAM
Bryan Joseph Cremin
Bryan Cremin was a great friend
and a phenomenal teacher. I could easily write a series of articles
about a trip to the Okavango Delta with Bryan and Richard Hewlett
– an experience that I’d never wish to repeat, but that I
wouldn’t want to have missed for all the money in the world.
Kindly allow me to dedicate this issue of the SAJR to an exceptional man and a great radiologist.
The following is a tribute from one Irishman to another. Let others
recall his academic achievements, but here let us listen to Sean Conway
on Bryan Cremin, the man.
Jan Lotz
Editor-in-chief
Tribute to Bryan Cremin
By Sean Conway
Bryan Joseph Cremin was born in London on 2 September 1929 to a
Limerick GP father and a Kerry mother, both of the province of Munster,
Ireland. He was the baby of the family, with 2 elder sisters and an
older brother, Desmond, who is 92. Having an eye for detail, he noted
that he was conceived in Ireland though born in England (‘of
Irish insertion but English extraction’, in his own words) as his
family had emigrated to London during this period.
By his admission, his father’s one failing was a penchant for
gambling on the horses, which contributed to Bryan’s fairly
shrewd financial sense in life. He went to prep school in London
– possibly the Oratory – and I recall a photograph he had
of himself in his house in school uniform with lopsided school cap and
a cheeky, somewhat pugnacious grin.
He attended Guy’s Hospital for his medical training and
represented the hospital in both boxing and rugby football, at which he
excelled; he also had a run with London Irish and a rugby trial for
Ireland. On qualification, he underwent his national service in the
Royal Army Medical Corps of the British Army and was posted to Malaya,
where I first came across him when I was about 4 years old, around the
time of the Coronation (June 1953), while he was doing his national
service as Captain Cremin in the 16th Field Ambulance in Kuala Lumpur, whose then CO was my father, Lieutenant-Colonel Steve Conway.
My first unknowing encounter with him was being thrown into the deep
end of the swimming pool at the Selangore Club in KL on the
instructions of my father – the order having been given for me to
sink or swim; I’ve been doggy paddling ever since. During his
time with the Field Ambulance, my father had him pegged as a most
competent and ambitious officer with great charm, and both my parents
became very fond of him; there were many hilarious and enjoyable
sessions in the Officers’ Mess and elsewhere. He also tried his
hand at ear piercing and charmed his way into my mother’s ear
lobes which, apparently, was not immediately successful as the first
attempt became slightly septic but with no lasting ill-effect.
He was of adventurous spirit and, for the latter half of his
national service, was attached to the SAS as a Medical Officer. During
this time my father, not lacking in spirit himself, underwent parachute
training in the jungle. On one of these jumps, Cremin and the others
landed safely on the jungle floor, but my father was trapped and
suspended up high from the branch of a tree. Although uninjured, my
father called out, ‘Cremin [Kreeman], have you got the medicinal
brandy? Pass it along now, if you please.’ – which Bryan
managed to achieve by means of a jungle vine. It took another 40
minutes to extricate my Dad from the tree, but everyone was most
relaxed and stress free – I’m told.
An interesting sequela of the
parachute jumps was the first article written by Bryan: on the medical
aspects of parachuting into the jungle from very low height – a
technique pioneered in Malaya at the time. It was the only article
entirely written by Cremin himself – but in which he appeared as
second author, my father achieving first author status merely by virtue
of army rank: (1). Lt. Col. S.M.P. Conway, MC, RAMC; (2). Capt. B.J. Cremin, RAMC.
Following his national service, our family lost contact with Bryan
for many years. During this time he held a number of positions
including GP work in the UK and an extended sojourn as ship’s
surgeon on the P & O line. During one of these trips, he had a
liaison with his nursing staff sister, which resulted in the birth of
his daughter – although he was not aware of these details until
much later in life when contact was made with him by her in the mid- to
late-1990s. Then and since, he made every effort to erase the time lost.
He then underwent radiology training in London and further
postgraduate radiology in Australia. Around 1967 he went to Rhodesia,
to Mpilo Hospital in Bulawayo, where by chance I myself went in 1972 to
do my internship followed by paediatrics, but I was unaware of his
movements. He moved to South Africa in 1968 to the Red Cross War
Memorial Children’s Hospital as a Senior Radiologist, and it was
there that he made his mark as a paediatric radiologist of world renown.
It was purely by chance that I ended up as a trainee radiologist at
Groote Schuur Hospital in June 1976, having finished my own national
service in Rhodesia and having started radiology in Harare Hospital,
Salisbury. At the time, Bryan had established a worldwide reputation in
paediatric radiology. He was honoured with the position of the Chair of
Radiology at UCT/Groote Schuur concurrent with his position as Head of
Radiology at Red Cross Hospital. As already said, he was ambitious but
he deserved to be as this drive was backed up by enormous talent, hard
work, academia and excellent organisation. Groote Schuur and Red Cross
were staffed at the time by very talented and bright radiologists
– I refer to the consultant staff specifically. These consultants
were attracted from elsewhere largely on the reputation that Bryan had
established in international radiology. He was the author and co-author
of literally hundreds of articles in the radiological literature.
A criticism was that some of the co-authored articles were
penned by his more junior staff, but he was indeed the sole author of
many articles and a number of specialised paediatric textbooks and the
genuine co-author of others including, with Professor Jannie Louw, on
neonatal paediatric GIT, and with Aaronson on paediatric urology, among
others.
In the early 1980s he relinquished his position as Professor of
Radiology at UCT and returned to his first love of paediatric radiology
at Red Cross Hospital, maintaining his position as Head of Department.
He continued to be an innovator and to attract doctors from all corners
to the hospital. He had a special soft spot for the underdog and
so-called ‘outsiders’ – he had not a trace of
academic xenophobia and welcomed the fresh air that others could
introduce into his department, and he went to great lengths to welcome,
be hospitable to, and to discourse with, them at his house. He was
still penning articles when he retired from Red Cross in 1995.
He had a reputation as a lady’s man and was the master of
well-chosen phrases; women seemed to treat him well. His companion in
the most ambitious period of his life was Sybil, whom I met only once
or twice, and she passed on in the mid-1980s. But the love and stalwart
of his life was Edwina, whom I first met in 1988 shortly after they got
together. At this time my parents had come to live in South Africa and
renewed their friendship. They saw quite a lot of Bryan and Edwina and
always thoroughly enjoyed their company.
After retiring from Red Cross, Bryan and Edwina maintained
their adventurous spirit and lifestyle, travelling locally and abroad
in a camper van. Bryan also volunteered to do occasional unpaid
Saturday morning locums in our practice, which he did (and we paid him).
He had a talent for occasionally saying or doing the somewhat
outlandish, which antagonised some but which those of us who knew him
learnt to take in our stride. I think Edwina’s family had some
initial reservations about him but soon welcomed him into their hearts.
He was always most kind to me but never shy to state his mind. He
stepped into the breach on several occasions:
• He gave a best-man-type speech at 2 minutes’ notice at my chaotic garden wedding many years ago.
• He kept a watching brief over me during the short and somewhat peculiar divorce period.
• He gave an oration at my former wife’s funeral.
• He also accepted gracefully when I hijacked him to be godfather to Giselle.
He was gentle and kind to Giselle and was never short of a packet of
jelly tots – she describes him as having an eccentric sense of
humour and a kind fondness in his eyes. She always had a familiar and
special feeling when stepping over the threshold of Conor Close to
visit Bryan and Edwina and to play with the tabby cat and tortoise in
the garden – a feature for many years.
Bryan maintained a beautiful garden and took delight in
nurturing and seeing things grow and develop. He had the same attitude
in life: never stopping still, erudite, eloquent, inquisitive, and
questioning the why and the whereto. He had great humanity, was a
brilliant orator, and entertaining company at all times. In recent
years, when his mobility was reduced and he was losing some of his
faculties, particularly memory, he was very lucky to have Edwina who
nurtured and looked after him with tremendous personal effort but, even
as these faculties dwindled, he would always pop up out of the blue
with an appreciative gesture or meaningful statement of his love and
gratitude to her.
I was not present at his passing in April, but Edwina tells me
he still mustered all his dignity as he died in her arms. He was
succinct and direct to the last. This ends my somewhat personal
contribution to the Life of Bryan – Bryan Joseph Cremin –
with apologies where indicated. We shall miss his indomitable nature,
but his generous spirit lives on.