Again, A Woman Was Sent
To A Distant Village For Some Oil As Soon As They Heard That I
Usually Burned A Light All Night.
Little acts of courtesy were
constantly being performed; but I really appreciated nothing more
than the quiet way in which they went on with the routine of their
ordinary lives.
During the evening a man came to ask if I would go and see a woman
who could hardly breathe; and I found her very ill of bronchitis,
accompanied with much fever. She was lying in a coat of skins,
tossing on the hard boards of her bed, with a matting-covered roll
under her head, and her husband was trying to make her swallow some
salt-fish. I took her dry, hot hand - such a small hand, tattooed
all over the back - and it gave me a strange thrill. The room was
full of people, and they all seemed very sorry. A medical
missionary would be of little use here; but a medically-trained
nurse, who would give medicines and proper food, with proper
nursing, would save many lives and much suffering. It is of no use
to tell these people to do anything which requires to be done more
than once: they are just like children. I gave her some
chlorodyne, which she swallowed with difficulty, and left another
dose ready mixed, to give her in a few hours; but about midnight
they came to tell me that she was worse; and on going I found her
very cold and weak, and breathing very hard, moving her head
wearily from side to side.
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