Viewing page 289 of 547

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

I was a bit disappointed to have the homely one of the pair take me upstairs. She pushed me off the elevator and down a corridor filled with the pungent stench of ether and here and there out of the corner of my eye, I could see doctors in shirtsleeves and rubber gloves, etc. etc. and I knew this was "the last mile." Suddenly she swung me into a small anteroom of some sort and things happened fast from then on. A pretty, dark, rather hard hearted looking young nurse tied my legs to the wagon. A young doctor behind me pulled the pillow from under my head and said, "That will be better for what I'm going to do." And immediately he mashed a mask over my mouth and nose and said, "Now, start counting with me so I can keep track of where you are." I really didn't mind breathing the ether and I thought I was being very calm about it - I remember counting "ten-eleven-twelve-thirteen-fourteen-" and that's all I remember until someone said, "aren't you ever going to wake up?" and I looked at the pretty little nurse who gave me the night shirt and I was in my room and my throat felt like it had been cut - and it had.

I don't remember all that happened for the rest of the day in chronological order - I was asleep at lot but I remember various snatches of things that occurred: 

1.) Retching miserably to get up a small amount of blood I had swallowed, and feeling at every retch that a stilletto was being stuck through my neck.