I was summoned one morning by a Mr. B., a cheery, successful business man, to see his wife.
He says: “Doctor, I have exhausted my skill, and must have advice from higher authority.”
“What is your diagnosis?”
“Pregnancy, five months, accompanied by hysteria; unlike herself, she is irritable, fretful and morose; sleeps but little, and has no patience with the children or servants.”
This is no unusual case. I found Mrs. B. living in a handsome three-story dwelling elegantly furnished. Every luxury was at her command. She had a delicate, sensitive organization, extremely susceptible to all influences. Her five children were full of spirit, noisy and exacting. A late breakfast caused hurry and confusion in preparation for school. Upon arriving I found my lady weeping uncontrollably, and apparently in great trouble. I took her hand, saying: “My poor child, what is it?”
“Oh, I wish I could get away from myself; life is not worth living.”
“None can do that; tell me all, and let us see if your sorrows and ills cannot be alleviated.”
The truth was that, although an indulged wife, her burdens were beyond her strength. The Irish cook, good-natured and efficient, had been detected in carrying provisions to a sick friend. The second girl had a beau every night, who remained so late that she had insufficient sleep. In consequence she was fretful to the children and unfitted for all her duties. The youngest child, still a mere baby, was teething and required attention night and day. Though surrounded by every comfort that love could procure, her strength was too greatly taxed. Later in the day her husband called at my office.
He says: “What is your diagnosis, doctor?”
“Overtaxed; her nervous system is worn out.”