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The day book. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, July 01, 1914, LAST EDITION, Image 13

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-07-01/ed-2/seq-13/

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THE CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
HOSPITALS ARE SADDENING PLACES CONFESSION 195
I
I found when I awakened again,
that instead of going to sleep I had
gone back into the region of uncon
sciousness where they tell me I lin
gered for days on the borderland of
life and death.
I had vague visions of nurses and
stiffly starched uniforms; of Dick
looking, oh! so unhappy and worried;
of Mollie's softlips pressed against
my burning hand; of Aunt Mary's
soothing voice; but the rest were only
shadows, which sometimes soothed
and sometimes fretted me.
Now when I am able to write again,
they tell me that I have been in the
hospital over a month and that it will
be another four weeks, at least, be
fore I will be able to walk. I suppose
I should be glad that I got out of it
as well as I did, railroad collisions are
serious matters, because I delayed
my dinner, death passed me by.
Every person I left in the car to go
into the dining car was killed.
These sudden accidents make one
understand as nothing else, what
helpless beings we are. Fate takes
us and carries us along the sun
shiny path and then just as we are
beginning to sing from the very joy
of living, it flings us with warnon
cruelty out on the jagged stone of
physical pain or among the wolves
of disaster to die.
Poor Dick looks awfully worried
and I have not had a chance to ask
- him about the affairs ot ourselves or
those of the family. I wish I did not
have to go back to the hotel. The
doctors say, however, I can leave to
morrow and I shall be glad to get
away from the hospital. The place
where the poor bodies of suffering
humanity are mended is saddening.
It seems to me sometimes as
though nature was not only merci
less, but malignant.
I am often reminded of what Rob
ert Ingersoll once said in my father's
hearing. It was very early in Inger
soll's career when every one was
questioning his sincerity and a num
ber of clergymen waited upon him to
ask some questions.
The first one said: "Mr. Ingersoll,
you have so much to say about the
mistakes that have been made in the
plans and creation of this world, how
would you improve upon it?"
Ingersoll looked up with a twinkle
in his eye and answered: "I'd make
good health catching. I'd make a
poor little overworked sickly woman
stand up beside some great hulking,
husky man and catch good health.
I'd make little puny babies immune
from disease and liable to catch good
health."
Think what a beautiful world this
would be if we could make good
health catching.
I don't'believe anyone who is ab
solutely healthy can be as sad and
sorrowful as one who is physically
weak or ill. I have noticed that peo
ple with weak hearts lack courage;
those with weak lungs are usually
discontented; and when the kidneys
fail to eliminate the poisons of the
body, the brain is full of apprehen
sion and worry. Everyone has re
marked that a "sick liver" means a
person of quick temper, easy to
anger.
Lying here with one leg in a plaster
cast and the other foot in many
bandages to protect its blistered sur
face, is conducive to thoughts on
weakness and ills of the body and
my weakness brings worry. I am
worried about Dick. I am sure there
is something more than my unfortu
nate accident on his mind.
As soon as I get out of the hos
pital and alone with him, I ' shall
know, for Richard Waverly cannot
keep a secret to save his life and
from what I have known of them
neither can any other man.
(To Be Continued Tomorrow.)
...
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