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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s
Page 110
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disposed of them. She it was who managed to get a boy, and superintended the closing of boys, getting down the baggage calling a taxi and getting me in it. While I was swallowing my breakfast - which I was doing very conscientiously because I knew the extra sustenance would be needed for the ordeal of the day - assistant member three or four scanned the chart and belatedly made his appearance. "I wanted to see Dr Shepherd," I started, and continued wryly for I know very well he wasn't. "Are you he?" Without denial or confirmation he evasively made answer, "Oh, do you want to see the other doctor?" "Indeed, I most certainly do! Why do you suppose I am asking for him? Why do you suppose I have been yelling to see Dr Shepherd for several days and nights? But he has his orders and is avoiding me. I might want to know something and ask him some embarassing questions." Boswell went out. Even then, almost on the minute of my departure they were still stupidly playing this game of deceit. Here was Bagwell trying to pace himself off as Shepherd at train time. You will remember I had asked to see Shepherd, but do you suppose I might be permitted to see a doctor. Oh no, not at St Mayr's unless rigor mortis sets in - if then! The night before at bedtime very much upset and crying with pain, I went to the chartroom to wait for the doctor. A nurse tried to induce me to go back to bed and "take my little yellow sleeping pill." I told her emphatically "I am not going to bed until I see the doctor. I am not taking my Nombutol and I am staying right here." Finally, however, being very unhappy and very uncomfortable, I permitted myself to be persuaded to be led back to bed, much against my will. I had every reason to be provoked. Again doubts about the
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disposed of them. She it was who managed to get a boy, and superintended the closing of boys, getting down the baggage calling a taxi and getting me in it. While I was swallowing my breakfast - which I was doing very conscientiously because I knew the extra sustenance would be needed for the ordeal of the day - assistant member three or four scanned the chart and belatedly made his appearance. "I wanted to see Dr Shepherd," I started, and continued wryly for I know very well he wasn't. "Are you he?" Without denial or confirmation he evasively made answer, "Oh, do you want to see the other doctor?" "Indeed, I most certainly do! Why do you suppose I am asking for him? Why do you suppose I have been yelling to see Dr Shepherd for several days and nights? But he has his orders and is avoiding me. I might want to know something and ask him some embarassing questions." Boswell went out. Even then, almost on the minute of my departure they were still stupidly playing this game of deceit. Here was Bagwell trying to pace himself off as Shepherd at train time. You will remember I had asked to see Shepherd, but do you suppose I might be permitted to see a doctor. Oh no, not at St Mayr's unless rigor mortis sets in - if then! The night before at bedtime very much upset and crying with pain, I went to the chartroom to wait for the doctor. A nurse tried to induce me to go back to bed and "take my little yellow sleeping pill." I told her emphatically "I am not going to bed until I see the doctor. I am not taking my Nombutol and I am staying right here." Finally, however, being very unhappy and very uncomfortable, I permitted myself to be persuaded to be led back to bed, much against my will. I had every reason to be provoked. Again doubts about the
Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries
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