TAKING THE FEVER.
A large family, not much more careful of their habits or cleanly about
their premises than the family alluded to in the foregoing chapter, had
sickened one autumn, and one of them had died. Anxious to save the rest,
I again acted as physician and nurse both, and effected my object; or,
at least, appeared to do so. The rest of my patients ultimately
recovered.
But while thus watching these patients, by night and day, standing in
the very front of the battle, I suddenly sickened. The circumstances, as
nearly as I can recollect them, were the following:----
Among the sick of this afflicted family was one unmarried man of rather
eccentric and very unsociable habits, and exceedingly negligent both of
his person and dress. His linen, and I think also his bed-clothes, were
hardly changed once a month; at least as long as he was well. And then
he had, of course, extended the same neglect to his sick chamber. Added
to this, moreover, was a species of _necessity_ at this juncture; for so
much distressed were the family, and so difficult was it to procure aid
in the neighborhood, that a part of the neglect to which our old
bachelor was subjected seemed unavoidable.
I took notice of the neglect, spoke of it repeatedly, and labored
assiduously to correct the evil. But the case seemed an almost forlorn
one. I was morally obliged, as I then felt, to do a thousand things for
him that usually fall to the lot of nurses and assistants. In some
instances, I passed even whole nights in the family, in attendance on
him and the other sick persons.
My task was the more severe from the fact that a similar fever was
prevailing in other parts of the town, and my labors beyond the
precincts of this family were exceedingly fatiguing and severe. In
truth, I was, in the end, greatly overworked and debilitated, and my
system most admirably prepared for the reception of disease.
For various reasons, some of which, have already been named, I often
assisted in turning my bachelor-patient in his foul bed. It is true the
process was so offensive that I avoided it whenever I could; but on
occasions, I yielded to the pressure of necessity.
One night, when I was greatly fatigued and exhausted, and at the bottom
of my condition,--utterly unfit for exertion, even in a pure
atmosphere,--I was stooping over Mr. V., to turn him in his bed, when I
suddenly felt a sensation like that of receiving a blow externally on
the chest and stomach. The thought struck me as quickly as the imaginary
blow did--have I not taken the disease? I knew the laws of contagion;
the only question was whether any contagion had been generated. My
opinion was to the contrary; nevertheless, I could not wholly suppress
my fears.
A sensation of oppression which followed the imaginary blow, soon
gradually passed away, though I felt, each succeeding day, more and more
debilitated. Many a resolution was made to leave my patients, so far as
personal manual care was concerned, and be much more than I had been, in
the open air, though it was only made for a time--to be broken. At
length, however, principle prevailed over sympathy and inclination, and
I did as I ought to have done long before. It was, however, rather late,
for the die was already cast. I was taken sick, and the symptoms of my
disease were precisely like those of Mr. V.
Perceiving now, most clearly, my condition, and that I was engaged in a
war from which there could be no discharge, I made preparation for a
long and severe sickness. First, I calmly and deliberately adjusted all
my domestic concerns of a pecuniary kind, and made such arrangements as
would, in case of my demise, render every thing intelligible. Then, in
the second place, I made up my mind to submit, as cheerfully as I
could, to my condition. I determined to keep quiet, and not indulge for
a moment in any undue anxiety. I employed a physician,--my old
master--but steadfastly, and almost obstinately determined not to take
much medicine;--nor was there much prescribed.
My disease proved to be much milder than was expected; but it had its
regular course. I never wholly lost my muscular strength or my appetite.
While I was sick, several of my nearest friends and patrons sickened in
a similar way, only more severely; and one or two of them died. On my
recovery, however, or about the same time, the most of them began also
to recover, and the disease in general abated.
Now, when I came to reflect coolly and carefully on the whole affair, I
could not help perceiving that I richly deserved all I suffered. It was
the just penalty of transgression. I had been fully and repeatedly
warned not to watch with my patients, as those who turn back to Chapter
XXIII, and those too who remember its contents, will perceive. It was
fit, therefore, that I should feel the rod, even if I could not kiss the
hand that had appointed it. The only wonder with me now is, that my
punishment was not more severe.