A doctor who was a catalyst for modernisation of medicine

DR DEREK MCCOY: THE APPOINTMENT of Dr Derek McCoy as county physician to Bantry General Hospital in 1971 was a catalyst for …

DR DEREK MCCOY:THE APPOINTMENT of Dr Derek McCoy as county physician to Bantry General Hospital in 1971 was a catalyst for the modernisation and advancement of medicine in west Cork. His contribution still impacts positively on healthcare in the region and further afield.

Born in Belfast, he was the only child of William and Veronica McCoy. After graduating from Queen’s University Belfast in 1957, he interned at Musgrave Park and Antrim Hospitals. A further two years were spent as a senior house officer at Belfast City and Musgrave Park Hospitals before he heard the Franciscan missionaries were looking for a doctor in western Kenya.

On April Fools’ Day in 1960, Derek, his wife Breda and their 12-week baby daughter Deirdre undertook the three-week trek to Nyabondo in the middle of the African bush. For 2½ years, he was the only doctor for hundreds of square miles, providing medical care in all specialities. He used this experience to equip himself with a remarkable range of practical skills and knowledge in diverse medical areas. He also demonstrated the first signs of his pioneering approach to medicine by establishing the first laboratory service in Nyabondo.

He returned to Ireland in 1962 and worked for three months in the South Infirmary Hospital before assuming the post of medical registrar at St Finbarrs Hospital, Cork, under the tutelage of the iconic Prof Denis O’Sullivan. In this role, he continued his pioneering approach to medicine by being central to the establishment of the first renal dialysis unit for Munster, St Gerard’s, named after his son who died aged 10 months.

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His defining appointment, however, was as county physician to Bantry General Hospital in 1971, succeeding Dr Tim O’Connell. Although appointed as a consultant physician, such was the range of his skills he actually performed as physician, obstetrician, anaesthetist and paediatrician at the hospital, a feat unthinkable in the modern medical era.

His dedication to this post knew no bounds, with an around the clock, permanent on-call commitment for 28 years. Despite this onerous responsibility and the financial straitjacket of dark recessionary times in the 1970s and 1980s, he was not satisfied with merely maintaining the status quo. He set about introducing new services and modernising practices.

He oversaw the establishment of the laboratory services at Bantry General Hospital. He attracted a technician back from Australia knowing if he could hoodwink the health board into paying her for the first month it would be well-nigh impossible to get rid of her. The health board obliged.

The closure of St Finbarr’s Hospital and the transfer of services to Cork Regional (now University) Hospital in 1979 offered a unique opportunity to recycle equipment regarded as too dated for a new flagship hospital. Witnesses reported seeing cars returning from St Finbarr’s at various intervals full of equipment which subsequently served the population of west Cork very well. Blood pressure and heart monitors used at Bantry General Hospital for over a decade were saved from the rubbish skip at the South Infirmary/Victoria Hospital. The problem of retrieving information from these monitors, which were prone to overheating, was solved by placing them in his refrigerator for an hour after use.

He established the intensive care unit at Bantry General Hospital which today enjoys an excellent reputation and personally fundraised for the heart monitoring equipment that helped to save many lives. In addition, he put himself at considerable discomfort by sacrificing a medical registrar’s post for a six-month period to purchase the first endoscopy equipment for the hospital in the 1990s. He described this time as probably the most difficult of his working life but it allowed him to establish an endoscopy service admired by many much larger hospitals today.

He enjoyed the academic side of medicine and lectured in pharmacology at University College Cork. As a teacher, however, he seemed most at home at the bedside, inspiring literally hundreds of doctors now practising in Ireland and abroad. There, he taught his bewildering array of practical skills honed in Africa and was a true exponent of the philosophy that one can reach any body cavity with a long needle and strong will.

He was probably two decades ahead of his time in appreciating the importance of adjusting drug doses in the face of declining renal and hepatic function and in recognising the negative impact of sedative medication on older people.

He was the physician on duty the night of the Betelgeuse disaster in Bantry Bay 30 years ago, an event that affected him deeply.

A man of action rather than words, he had a healthy suspicion of health service managers. This suspicion was fuelled further when the health board removed maternity services from the hospital in the 1980s. He recounted the dark irony that the maternity delivery room was subsequently converted into a storeroom with the notice “Deliveries between 9am and 12pm only”.

He was a powerful patient advocate and viewed the current penchant for clinicians in management with suspicion. His feared that any dilution of the advocacy role of consultants on behalf of their patients could ultimately compromise patient care.

He officially retired in 1999 but continued full-time until 2002 performing locum work. He was greatly honoured to be asked to officially unveil the new CT scanner at Bantry General Hospital in 2007.

In later life, he learned to fly light aircraft, obtaining his pilot’s licence. As part of the Leeside Flying Group, he relished soaring in a four-seater Cessna 172. He was an inspiring aviator and, two days before his death, made his last flight over his beloved west Cork. He was commodore of the local sailing club and was very widely read, consuming manuals, almanacs and history books voraciously. As a result, he proved an invaluable reference point on the minutiae of anything from astronomy to battlefield tactics.

He is survived by his wife, Breda, sons Eamon, Diarmuid and Bryan, daughters Deirdre, Claire, Bríd and Katherine and 18 grandchildren.


Dr Derek McCoy, born March 30th, 1934; died June 16th, 2009