Forty Years In The Wilderness Of Pills And Powders Part 34

The results of this conversation were probably worth a hundred-fold the expense they involved. This young couple are, to this hour, for aught I know, enjoying tolerable health; and their health is improving. Their children, though not strong, reap the full benefit of thorough parental reform; and their scrofulous tendencies seem every day more and more receding.

CHAPTER Lx.x.xVI.

HOW TO CURE CHOLERA.

While cholera was prevailing in our large towns and cities, and a few cases were occurring and proving fatal in my own neighborhood, a friend of mine, who had till recently been a sea captain, complained, one day, of cholera symptoms, and begged to know what he could do to ward off the threatened disease.

On inquiry I found he was more than half right, that cholera, surely enough, was already marking him for its victim. The rice-water discharges, so called, had actually commenced. Had he been any thing but a resolute tar, he would have gone on, most evidently, into severe if not fatal disease.

I gave him the best advice I was able, with regard to diet, exercise, etc.,--probably the same, or about the same, that any thoughtful medical man, in the same circ.u.mstances, would have given. He was to be cheerful, quiet, and abstinent. For food, he was to use nothing but a little boiled rice,--at least, till the symptoms of cholera began to abate. He was especially directed to avoid all medicine.

Several weeks pa.s.sed away, during which I heard nothing from him. As I did not hear of his death, however, I concluded he must have recovered.

One day, rather unexpectedly, I met him again, and inquired familiarly how he got along with his cholera? He laughed outright, but immediately added,--"Sit down, sir, and I will tell you the whole story."

"After I left you," said he, "the thought struck me,--Why cannot I control the muscles of my system as well as my appet.i.tes and pa.s.sions?

Indeed, on occasions, I have done it, at least for a short time. These little rice-water evacuations cannot, in the nature of things, do much harm by being retained. I can do what any man can. These frequent demands of nature seem to me very unreasonable. I will not yield to them. And, like a good sailor, I kept my word. For nearly a whole day I never permitted a single evacuation. Then, after yielding obedience, for once, to nature's clamorous demands, I again enforced my prohibitory law. My task, the second day, was less severe than it was the first, and on the third day I got along very comfortably. The fourth day I was well; and to-day you see me here."

Whether he told me the truth, I do not know, of course; but I give the statement, as nearly as I can recollect, just as it was given to me. I have reason, however, for believing it to be true. The man is still alive, and is as likely to live for twenty or twenty-five years to come, as you or I, or any other individual.

Mrs. Willard, of Troy, New York, under the full impression that the seat of human life is in the lungs, and not in the heart, and that even the blue color of the skin during the collapse of Asiatic cholera, is owing to an acc.u.mulation of unburnt carbon in the air cells of the lungs, made the experiment of trusting a few patients, in this disease, to the full influence of pure air, and nothing else. According to her account the experiments were most admirably successful. She cured every individual she experimented on (and it was a considerable number), and in a comparatively short period.

It was my good fortune to escape cholera patients, with the single exception mentioned above. However, I am quite confident that, but for the alarm, which more than half paralyzes our efforts, we might much more frequently recover, under its deadly influences, especially if we begin the work of preparation in good season, and duly and faithfully persevere. There is much in enduring to the end.

CHAPTER Lx.x.xVII.

OBSTINACY AND SUICIDE.

Without examining the term suicide, in regard to its various shades of meaning, I have placed it at the head of this chapter; for I think it properly belongs there. Of this, however, I leave the reader to judge when he has heard a statement of the facts in the case to which I have applied it.

A young woman was admitted to the family where I was, to be treated for a nervous complaint so obstinate as to remind one who was not wholly insane nor strikingly imaginative, of the demoniacal possessions of eighteen hundred years ago. She would not eat; she would not drink; she would not or _could_ not sleep. In short, she would not, if she could help it, do any thing which did not have an immediate bearing on her own well-being, for the moment. She was, in truth, one of the most selfish creatures in human shape I ever yet saw. If Dr. Johnson, who is said to have held that every sick person is a rascal, had seen her, I wonder what he would have said of the case.

She was one of those young women who have never been governed, and hence cannot govern themselves. If she took it into her head to do or not to do a thing, she would be sure to carry her point, if not in one way, at least in another.

How she came to consent to be placed under my care, I never knew; for all the neighbors and friends of the poor girl well understood that if she came there she would have to obey me; and yet that, if she _did_ obey me, it would be the first instance in which she ever yielded to any mind or will but her own, either earthly or heavenly. Perhaps it was a last resort--a sort of desperation.

I began my directions, however, as if I expected to be obeyed, and had no fears of any disinclination on her part. Some things which pleased her, she consented to attempt; others she would tell me she _could_ not do. When I was quite confident nothing was wanting but a will, I sometimes asked for a reason; but it could, in no instance, be obtained.

If I pressed her for an answer, or for a reason, she would either be silent or groan most dreadfully with pain!

At length I saw that nothing could be obtained in this way, and that she must either attend to my directions, as far as was really in her power, or I could have nothing to do with her; and I told her so. She did not appear to care. Her alienation of feeling was so rapid that in a very few days she seemed almost to hate the very sight of me. Indeed, I believe she made statements to this effect to several of her friends.

Her report, so unfavorable and so very strange, soon reached the ears of several very respectable people, who in wonder and surprise came to me, to learn what it meant, and among the rest came her minister. They made diligent though respectful inquiry whether the facts were as she represented them to be. I believe that, for the most part, they were satisfied with the treatment.

But the girl herself was not satisfied. She could not leave the house without help; and yet it was easy to see that she was determined not to remain. She preferred, as she said, to die. Everybody seemed to pity her, despite of her unreasonableness, and the more for her unreasonableness. Her friends a.s.sured her that this treatment of mine afforded her the last chance of recovery, and begged her not to decide to leave us too hastily. It was all to no purpose, however; she said she preferred death in the street to a cure at my hands.

There had been serious difficulty about her diet. I had strenuously forbidden the use of certain condiments which I thought injurious to her, but which she was resolutely determined to have. At first, a few things prepared to her taste had been smuggled in by certain psuedo friends; but this, when discovered, was absolutely prohibited.

One evening, just at dark, some of her friends called to see her and me. They found me in the sitting-room. We had a short conversation concerning the patient, in which they were made most distinctly to understand that they must either leave her to be treated wholly according to my discretion or remove her. They were left at a loss what course was best; but at length, in compliance with her clamors, they placed her in their carriage and carried her away.

This was both the first and last patient that ever ran away from me, or that ever appeared to be desirous of doing so. On the whole, though no one pitied her more than myself, I was glad when she was gone. She was hardly worth curing. I never heard from her more, except vaguely, some time afterward, that she was dead, which was probably correct. Most certainly I could not have lived long, in her circ.u.mstances.

I was very unwise in taking the charge of her, or, at least, in retaining her a moment after she refused to obey me. However, I had my reward. The public not being possessed of all the facts in the case, probably lost confidence in me. It was proper that they should. He who takes a viper to his bosom, must not be surprised if he suffers the natural consequences of his presumption.

CHAPTER Lx.x.xVIII.

HEALTH HOSPITALS.

Some of my friends, fully aware of my strong reliance on the recuperative powers of nature, and of my growing scepticism in regard to medicine, entered into combination and proposed to place me at the head of a hospital, in which I should have an opportunity, as they supposed, to test the superiority of my favorite practice.

The buildings needful for the purpose, were to be furnished by one of the company, gratuitously. For the rest, a subscription was to have been started. The salary was to have been $1,000 a year. Matters were, in fine, carried so far that nothing remained but my own acceptance or non-acceptance, of the proposal, as there was no doubt that the subscription would readily succeed.

But I saw, at the moment, so many difficulties, that after a careful consideration of the subject I was compelled to decline. Situated as I then was, and with very little self-confidence, perhaps the decision was right. And yet I have at times, ever since, regretted it. I was not then so fully aware as I now am, of the stern necessity of such inst.i.tutions.

Still later than this, I made an effort to establish a Hospital, on my own responsibility, and on my own plan. This was, simply, to receive patients at my house, and teach them, both by precept and example, _how to live._ In other words, I was to teach the art of preventing disease by obeying the physical and moral laws. Even disease itself was to be cured by obedience to these laws,--those of hygiene.

At this time, I was residing in the country. Had I been in the crowded city, I might, perhaps, have succeeded. As it was, I found many difficulties. Just now, too, among other difficulties, my pecuniary condition became embarra.s.sed, and I was anxious to be freed from debt before I begun a work which, at best, required a good deal of capital.

Not to be able to labor wholly gratuitously would, as I thought, defeat my whole plan.

In these circ.u.mstances, and after considerable delay, the whole thing was indefinitely postponed; and soon after, I removed to a region still less promising. I shall not, at present, if ever, repeat my attempts, at least on the plan of doing my work gratuitously. What costs little is, usually, little valued.

And yet, such inst.i.tutions are needed; and the time must come when they will succeed. Some eminent medical man who already possesses wealth, will perhaps make the trial. For myself, I prefer a more radical work. I prefer to throw my own make-weight, while I live, into the scale of early and correct physical education.

CHAPTER Lx.x.xIX.

DESTRUCTION BY SCROFULA.

Much is said in these days about scrofula, and much indeed should be said about it; for it has become a most frequent, not to say fatal, disease. For, if few die of it, immediately, it leads to, or renders more severe, numerous other diseases, which are more directly fatal. In truth, a scrofulous const.i.tution not only prepares us for many other diseases, but renders them, when they a.s.sail us, much more severe than they otherwise would have been. Colds, fevers, and consumption, in particular, are not only more frequent in scrofulous people than in others, but also more intense or severe, as well as less manageable by medical skill.

This disease itself, though often inherited, may, on the one hand, be greatly aggravated by improper treatment; or, by a proper course of living, may, on the other hand, be postponed many years, if not indefinitely. Living much in the open air, cheerfulness of mind, plain food and drink, and a proper regard to the skin, will do a vast deal towards arresting its progress, and in some instances will wholly prevent its doing us any harm. For though five millions of the inhabitants of the United States were probably born with a tendency to this formidable disease, and the same proportion--if not a greater--of each generation to come will be likely to have the same tendency, I do not believe it to be indispensably necessary that one-half of this number should die, as now they do, of consumption. I have not a doubt that two-thirds of them might, by proper management, be made to last many years, and some of them to what is usually called old age.

It has been my lot to have a very great number of scrofulous patients, daring the last twenty-five years, from almost every part of the United States. One of the worst cases I ever had was that of Mrs. ----, of New Hampshire. Her history, prior to the period when she came to me, is very briefly as follows.

She was born of parents, who, at the time of her birth, were very near their dotage; in consequence of which, as it was believed, she held her existence by a very feeble tenure. At two and a half years of age, she was nearly destroyed by dysentery, or by the medicine given to arrest her disease, or by both. In addition to this and almost before she recovered, she had an attack of scarlet fever, which was very severe, and which was also probably treated freely by medicine. By this time there is no doubt that scrofula, at first slightly inherited, had become pretty well riveted on a const.i.tution already but poorly prepared to endure it.