"THE POOR CHILD DIED."
MY baby, nine months old, had some fever, and seemed very unwell.
One neighbor said:
"You'd better send for the doctor."
Another suggested that it had, no doubt, eaten something that
disagreed with it, and that a little antimonial wine would enable it
to throw it off; another advised a few grains of calomel, and
another a dose of rheubarb. But I said:
"No. I'll wait a little while, and see if it won't get better."
"You should give him medicine in time. Many a person dies from not
taking medicine in time;" said a lady who expressed more than usual
concern for the well-being of my baby. She had a very sick child
herself.
"Many more die," I replied, "from taking medicine too soon. I
believe that one half of the diseases in the world are produced by
medicines, and that the other half are often made worse by their
injudicious administration."
"You'd better send for the doctor," urged the lady.
"No. I'll wait until the morning, and then, if he's no better, or
should be worse, I'll call in our physician. Children often appear
very sick one hour, and are comparatively well again in the next."
"It's a great risk," said the lady, gravely. "A very great risk. I
called in the doctor the moment my dear little Eddy began to droop
about. And it's well I did. He's near death's door as it is; and
without medical aid I would certainly have lost him before this.
He's only been sick a week, and you know yourself how low he is
reduced. Where do you think he would have been without medicine? The
disease has taken a terrible hold of him. Why, the doctor has bled
him twice; and his little chest is raw all over from a blister. He
has been cupped and leeched. We have had mustard plasters upon his
arms and the calves of his legs. I don't know how many grains of
calomel he has taken; and it has salivated him dreadfully. Oh! such
a sore mouth! Poor child! He suffers dreadfully. Besides, he has
taken some kind of powder almost every hour. They are dreadfully
nauseous; and we have to hold him, every time, and pour them down
his throat. Oh, dear! It makes my heart sick. Now, with all this,
the disease hangs on almost as bad as ever. Suppose we hadn't sent
for the doctor at first? Can't you see what would have been the
consequence? It is very wrong to put off calling in a physician upon
the first symptoms of a disease."
"Pardon me, Mrs. Lee, for saying so," was my reply, "but I cannot
help thinking that, if you had not called the doctor, your child
would have been quite well to-day."
Mrs. Lee--that was the lady's name--uttered an exclamation of
surprise and disapproval of my remark.
"But, cannot you see, yourself; that it is not the disease that has
reduced your child so low. The bleeding, blistering, cupping,
leeching, and calomel administrations, would have done all this, had
your child been perfectly well when it went into the doctor's
hands."
"But the disease would have killed him inevitably. If it requires
all this to break it, don't you see that it must have taken a most
fatal hold on the poor child's system."
"No, Mrs. Lee, I cannot see any such thing," was my reply. "The
medicine probably fixed the disease, that would, if left alone, have
retired of itself. What does the doctor say ails the child?"
"He does not seem to know. There seems to be a complication of
diseases."
"Produced by the treatment, no doubt. If there had been scarlet
fever, or small pox, or croup, active and energetic treatment would,
probably, have been required, and the doctor would have known what
he was about in administering his remedies. But, in a slight
indisposition, like that from which your child suffered, it is, in
my opinion, always better to give no medicine for a time. Drugs
thrown into the tender system of a child, will always produce
disease of some kind, more or less severe; and where slight
disorders already exist, they are apt to give them a dangerous hold
upon the body, or, uniting with them, cause a most serious, and, at
times, fatal illness."
But Mrs. Lee shook her head. She thought the doctors knew best. They
had great confidence in their family physician. He had doctored them
through many dangerous attacks, and had always brought them through
safely. As to the new-fangled notions about giving little or no
medicine, she had no confidence in them. Medicine was necessary at
times, and she always gave her children medicine at least two, or
three times a year, whether they were sick or well. Prevention, in
her eyes, was better than cure. And where there was actual sickness,
she was in favor of vigorous treatment. One good dose of medicine
would do more good than a hundred little ones; with much more to the
same effect.
On the next morning, my dear baby, who was just as sick for a few
hours as Mrs. Lee's child was at first, was as well as ever.
Not long after breakfast, I was sent for by Mrs. Lee. Her poor child
was much worse. The servant said that she was sure it was dying. I
changed my dress hurriedly, and went over to the house of my
neighbor.
Shall I describe the painful object that met my sight? It was three
days since I had seen the little sufferer; but, oh! how it had
changed in that brief time. Its face was sunken, its eyes far back
in their sockets, and its forehead marked with lines of suffering.
The whole of its breast was raw from the blister, and its mouth,
lying open, showed, with painful distinctness, the dreadful injury
wrought by the mercury thrown, with such a liberal hand, into its
delicate system. All the life seemed to have withdrawn itself from
the skin; for the vital forces, in the centre of its body, were
acting but feebly.
The doctor came in while I was there. He said but little. It was
plain that he was entirely at fault, and that he saw no hope of a
favorable issue. All his, "active treatment" had tended to break
down the child, rather than cure the disease from which it at first
suffered. There was a great deal of heat about the child's head, and
he said something about having it shaved for a blister.
"Wouldn't ice do better, doctor?" I felt constrained to suggest. He
turned upon me quickly and seemed annoyed.
"No, madam!" he replied with dignity.
I said no more, for I felt how vain my words would be. The blister,
however, was not ordered; but, in its stead, mustard plasters were
directed to be placed over the feet and legs to the knees, and a
solution of iodine, or iron, I don't now remember which, prescribed,
to be given every half hour.
I went home, some time after the doctor left, feeling sick at heart.
"They are murdering that child," I could not help saying to myself.
My own dear babe I found full of health and life; and I hugged it to
my breast with a feeling of thankfulness.
Before the day closed, Mrs. Lee's poor child died. Was it a cause of
wonder?