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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s
Page 148
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wise. Those head pains for which the world knows no equal. My head was packed in ice-bags; the back of the neck reposed upon a hot water bottle. I moreover Dr [Sloeman?] of the physiotherapy section was consulted and I was put on treatment. Every day the eqipment was brought up from the basement, I was turned over and the heat lamps was directed upon the back of my neck and back. This - of course - was followed by a massage, Always it seems at St Mary's we revert to phsiotherapy, much to my liking, I must confess. The last few days at the hospital when I was [illegible] up a bit and about, the boy came up with the wheelchair and I was taken down to the regular quarters for treatment. It was a nice change for me from the monotonous routine, and took me away from my room which by this time began to seem a bit tiresome. One day a whole group of nurses, doctors and what-not? had collected at the elevator in the basement, waiting to go up to the ground floor and above. The boy took me down in the elevator and as he wheeled me out in the basement a whole chorus greeted me "Oh: hello Mrs Van Ek. How are you?" "Fine. Oh, I am fine" I responded heartily. "My," the boy observed, "You are well known here" All this time my stomach had been behaving moderately well until about the eight day when I began to have [bile-emasis?]. Some thing seemed to be a bit out of order. Of course all this bile being dumped into my stomach made me feel very ill and nauseated. I know of nothing really that can make one feel more so. The doctors decided that it was necessary to put a tube down to determine whether there was an obstruction. With this in mind Dr [Marius?] came in lots one afternoon with a tube and the needed eqipment to pump my stomach. He set it on the table and eyed me as I sat munching my potato. "Oh you are too late" I crowed gleefully "I am
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wise. Those head pains for which the world knows no equal. My head was packed in ice-bags; the back of the neck reposed upon a hot water bottle. I moreover Dr [Sloeman?] of the physiotherapy section was consulted and I was put on treatment. Every day the eqipment was brought up from the basement, I was turned over and the heat lamps was directed upon the back of my neck and back. This - of course - was followed by a massage, Always it seems at St Mary's we revert to phsiotherapy, much to my liking, I must confess. The last few days at the hospital when I was [illegible] up a bit and about, the boy came up with the wheelchair and I was taken down to the regular quarters for treatment. It was a nice change for me from the monotonous routine, and took me away from my room which by this time began to seem a bit tiresome. One day a whole group of nurses, doctors and what-not? had collected at the elevator in the basement, waiting to go up to the ground floor and above. The boy took me down in the elevator and as he wheeled me out in the basement a whole chorus greeted me "Oh: hello Mrs Van Ek. How are you?" "Fine. Oh, I am fine" I responded heartily. "My," the boy observed, "You are well known here" All this time my stomach had been behaving moderately well until about the eight day when I began to have [bile-emasis?]. Some thing seemed to be a bit out of order. Of course all this bile being dumped into my stomach made me feel very ill and nauseated. I know of nothing really that can make one feel more so. The doctors decided that it was necessary to put a tube down to determine whether there was an obstruction. With this in mind Dr [Marius?] came in lots one afternoon with a tube and the needed eqipment to pump my stomach. He set it on the table and eyed me as I sat munching my potato. "Oh you are too late" I crowed gleefully "I am
Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries
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