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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s
Page 070
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a typical woman of her generation. All that day before she was to go up to surgery, all evening long and the following morning our room was crowded with would-be cheerful realities. As usual the boy came about 3:30 to take me up to the laboratory for my lavage. An hour or two later upon my return I was surprised to find her still there. The sons and daughters were still dutifully hanging on. From the doctors examination, I sensed from the beginning that her case was hopeless. However, when I found the good woman still lying in 242; still waiting to go up to surgery at that time of day I know my diagnosis was correct. I was convinced that her sand of time was ebbing out. The minutes dragged by but it was not until after my lunch hour, close onto one o'clock that the nurse took her away in a wheel chair. She was a good scout. She went bravely; bless her soul. I was more distraught by those events than I had any right to be. Somehow I know she was beyond human help. Moreover I was tired - worn out by too much stress and strain nervous. I realized I must relax and rest but my nerves wouldn't permit me to. The hospital was unbearale; the room was unbearable. I felt I could scream and would if I didn't get out. I could stay in no longer but needed to get away from it all. Driven by the desperate need to ease the tension I did out of bed, got into my clothes and
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a typical woman of her generation. All that day before she was to go up to surgery, all evening long and the following morning our room was crowded with would-be cheerful realities. As usual the boy came about 3:30 to take me up to the laboratory for my lavage. An hour or two later upon my return I was surprised to find her still there. The sons and daughters were still dutifully hanging on. From the doctors examination, I sensed from the beginning that her case was hopeless. However, when I found the good woman still lying in 242; still waiting to go up to surgery at that time of day I know my diagnosis was correct. I was convinced that her sand of time was ebbing out. The minutes dragged by but it was not until after my lunch hour, close onto one o'clock that the nurse took her away in a wheel chair. She was a good scout. She went bravely; bless her soul. I was more distraught by those events than I had any right to be. Somehow I know she was beyond human help. Moreover I was tired - worn out by too much stress and strain nervous. I realized I must relax and rest but my nerves wouldn't permit me to. The hospital was unbearale; the room was unbearable. I felt I could scream and would if I didn't get out. I could stay in no longer but needed to get away from it all. Driven by the desperate need to ease the tension I did out of bed, got into my clothes and
Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries
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