Forty Years in the Wilderness of Pills and Powders / Cogitations and Confessions of an Aged Physician

by William A. Alcott

She had also made another advance. She had contrived to obtain, I hardly know from what source, but probably from the hands of kind friends, a small amount of good fruit to use daily, with one or more of her meals. This excluded a part or portion of that kind of food which was more stimulating and doubtful.

But the greatest difficulty we had to encounter was to shake off the enormous load of narcotic medicine which had been so long prescribed for her that she seemed unable to live without it. Morphine, in particular, she had come to use in quantities which would have destroyed a person who was unaccustomed to its influence, and in frequently repeated doses. I told her she might as well die in one way as another; that the morphine, though it afforded a little temporary relief, was wearing out her vital energies at a most rapid rate, and that the safest, and, in the end, the easiest way for her was, to abandon it entirely. She followed my advice, and made the attempt.

I have forgotten how long a time it required to effect a complete emancipation from her slavery to drugs; but the process was a gradual one, and occupied at least several months. In the end, however, though not without considerable suffering, she was perfectly free, not only from her slavery to morphine, but to all other drugs. All this time, moreover, she was as well, to say the least, as before; perhaps, on the whole, a little better.

I now set myself, in good earnest, to the work of improving her physical habits. The laws of ventilation and cleanliness, to which her attention, as I have already intimated, had become directed, were still more carefully heeded. She was required to retire early and rise early, and to keep her mind occupied, though never to the point of fatigue, while awake. Her habits with regard to food and drink were changed very materially. The influence of the mind on the condition of the body was also explained to her, and the influence of temperature. In short, she was brought, as fast as possible, to the knowledge of physical law in its application to her circumstances, and encouraged to obey it.

The recuperative powers of nature, even in unfavorable circumstances, were soon apparent. This greatly increased her docility and inspired her with faith and hope. The greatest trouble was in regard to muscular exercise. Much of this was needed; and yet how could it be obtained? She could not walk, and yet, in her indigence, she had no means of conveyance, except at the occasional invitation of some friend.

But this even had its good tendencies. To take her up, as we would have taken a child, set her in a carriage and let her ride half a mile or a mile, was obviously of great service to her. She was far less fatigued by it than was expected; her subsequent sleep was far better; nor did any remote evil effects follow. This greatly increased her courage, and raised the hopes of her friends.

She was at length able to be placed in the railroad cars, and with the aid of coaches, at embarking and disembarking, to travel about a good deal, to the distance of ten, twelve, or twenty miles; and all this with favorable effects. Her recovery, at no distant day, began to be regarded, by the most sceptical, as quite probable.

My removal, a hundred miles or so from the village, just at this time, was, however, a misfortune to her. In one of her excursions, she received and accepted an invitation to spend a few months with a distant relative, where she came under the influence of one of the phases of modern quackery, by means of which her progress to the promised land of health was very considerably retarded. She even sickened, but afterward recovered.

Sometime after this, as I subsequently learned, she partially regained her good condition of steady progress, and returned to her father's house. Finding herself, at length, able to do something for her support, she entered into the service of a neighboring family, at first with little compensation except her board, but subsequently at half pay or more. Her domestic duties were such as only taxed her system to a degree which she was able to endure without any injury.

It was in this condition, that, after two or three years of absence, I found her and rejoiced with her. For, though she could no more be said to be restored to perfect health, than a vessel could be considered perfectly sound that is full of shot holes, yet her condition was far enough from being desperate, and was even comparatively excellent. I left her once more with the tear of gratitude to God on her cheek, and again, for many long years, neither saw her nor heard from her.