A stent is a tube, usually made of wire mesh, inserted into a natural passage that has been narrowed by disease, in order to enhance the flow of bodily fluids. Most commonly we think of coronary stents, placed in clogged arteries to allow blood to flow to the heart.
The word has been around at least since 1380, but it has meant a variety of other things not connected with the present usage. Among earlier definitions of stent are a “tax evaluation,” a “hole to receive the end of a bar,” a “stake for stretching fishing nets,” and the “rubble of a tin mine.” As a verb, stent has also been in use since the fourteenth century, and has meant to “stretch something out to its full length,” to “erect a tomb,” to “hang a curtain,” to “stretch out a person on an instrument of torture,” and to “distend the stomach.”
According to the Merriam Webster’s Second New International Dictionary, stent evolved from the Middle English verb stenten, shortened from extenten, meaning to stretch, which in turn came from Latin extentus, past participle of extendere, to stretch out.
Most word gurus agree that the current medical meaning of stent, in use since about 1960, has nothing to do with all that. They think it can be traced to an English dentist, Charles Stent, who was born in 1807 and died in 1885. He devised a framework structure to support the facial tissues during reconstructive surgery. It became known as a “Stent” and the name was picked up for subsequent devices similarly constructed.
In Texas and other areas that have difficulty distinguishing the sound of “pin” from “pen,” a stent may be confused with a stint, which since the 1590s has meant a brief period of time devoted to an occupation, adapted from the verb stint (“restrict”), and derived from Old English styntan (“dull” or “blunt”).
The Bard of Buffalo Bayou is urgently in need of a stent to his brain, to facilitate the flow of poetic inspiration from his sluggish Muse. On second thought, a stent probably wouldn’t do the trick; what the Bard needs is a complete transplant. Judge from the following:
Old Doctor Stent,
The dental gent,
Had not a cent
To pay his rent,
So
off he went,
Self-confident,
And did invent
An instrument
He called a stent.
The reverent
Establishment,
Self-confident,
And did invent
An instrument
He called a stent.
The reverent
Establishment,
To
compliment
The gentle Stent,
Was then content
To implement
Emolument
Equivalent
To all the rent
That Stent had spent,
And to augment
This blandishment,
A monument
Was their intent,
To document
The doc’s ascent
To eminent
Ennoblement.
Another gent,
The decadent
And corpulent
Professor Trent,
With wonderment
Then gave consent
And underwent
A new event:
To place a stent
To circumvent
To some extent
The sediment
That, like cement,
Was evident,
And thus prevent
Trent’s subsequent
Enfeeblement
And quick descent
To vile torment.
Anent Trent’s stent:
The gentle Stent,
Was then content
To implement
Emolument
Equivalent
To all the rent
That Stent had spent,
And to augment
This blandishment,
A monument
Was their intent,
To document
The doc’s ascent
To eminent
Ennoblement.
Another gent,
The decadent
And corpulent
Professor Trent,
With wonderment
Then gave consent
And underwent
A new event:
To place a stent
To circumvent
To some extent
The sediment
That, like cement,
Was evident,
And thus prevent
Trent’s subsequent
Enfeeblement
And quick descent
To vile torment.
Anent Trent’s stent:
The
stent was bent,
It had a dent--
It had a dent--
Not
worth a cent!
And as for Trent:
He's vehement,
Belligerent,
And violent--
He does lament
He did relent
To give consent
And as for Trent:
He's vehement,
Belligerent,
And violent--
He does lament
He did relent
To give consent
For
negligent,
Incompetent
Experiment.
And just to vent
His discontent,
Trent rashly sent
A harsh comment
To represent
Just what he meant:
“I now have spent
My last red cent
On this bent stent--
I do resent
My pestilent
Predicament—
No monument
To Doctor Stent
Or supplement
To pay his rent
Wins my assent!”
And so it went.
Incompetent
Experiment.
And just to vent
His discontent,
Trent rashly sent
A harsh comment
To represent
Just what he meant:
“I now have spent
My last red cent
On this bent stent--
I do resent
My pestilent
Predicament—
No monument
To Doctor Stent
Or supplement
To pay his rent
Wins my assent!”
And so it went.
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