In the midst of life we are in debt. Sorely afflicted, and with a floating soul-case, I ventured to seek medical advice.
I got plenty of advice, advice gratis, this of negative value ; advice m.d.u., cum grano salis ; and bushels of other advice.
So I'm in debt.
• It ought not to be thought that I speak of a debt of grati- tude. That is a sort of debt which I can guarantee to discharge any day before breakfast, although I'm not an early riser.. In
fact, gratitude is my strong point, and I have trained myself never to repulse prospective creditors of this sort. The truth is that I'm owing quite a lot of money.
It's not my fault a bit—not that I object to owing money, far from it. It's all due to my complaint. Mine is an obscure and very baffling complaint. For weeks at a time it never troubles me, but the moment I start work it livens up and pros- trates me. A few months back I was thrust into the position of rent-collector for a house-agent. I had collected a good few rents, when suddenly my malady seized upon .me and my memory left me. The result was that I was unable to remem- ber who the agent was or where he lived. A little while after- wards proceedings were instituted against me for absconding with this money, and I seemed to be in• some peril of my liberty. However, the proceedings were dropped suddenly owing to the house-agent absconding on his own account.
No matter what sort of work it is, my complaint invariably rises up in arms against it. This is very peculiar, and at times very embarrassing, for it opens me to a variety of low asper- sions. What wonder I am driven to doctors, in search of relief ? I am reputed to have a plausible manner, and really it has stood by me in this connection. But—dammit !—it's also got me into debt. Before I know what I've done, I've been advised and charged a guinea, and it always finishes up by them telling me I'd better go to somebody else. This, however, is not charged for as professional advice; it is understood I go at my own risk. Which I do, life now holding few attractions for me.
I started off with one doctor because he happened to live near the end of the street. He was rather disappointing, not showing any surprise at my symptoms, and he rather annoyed me by saying he remembered a former patient who was affected
in exactly the same way, and finished by showing me a picture of his grave. To make sure of me, he stuck pins all over me and tickled me. I was inclined to resent this, for I'm respectable, and wasn't quite sure what he meant. He handed me over to his colleague, who sized me up in a moment. He told me my trouble was entirely due to my teeth and tonsils. I ought not a lose a moment in having them removed. When at last I was able to tell him that my teeth were false and my tonsils missing from my youth upwards. then he seemed a little non-plussed.
Almost at once, however, he recovered his poise, and informed me that my only chance was to have my tonsils replaced. Sud- denly his face wore a financial look, so I left.
Next I visited an earliest little man, who looked at me very closely for a while, and then softly and intensely asked me if I had ever had a serious disease. I didn't quite follow him, so he asked if I were married and the condition of my children, if any. I replied that all I could say was that I wasn't mar- ried, at least not to my knowledge. He wasn't satisfied, how- ever, therefore he took some blood from me, but nothing else, so he told me to call again in ten years' time. Which is absurd, for I might be very busy in ten years' time. My God, I might ! The same morning I waited on a dark and gloomy man, who had a lot of very thin, hungry-looking patients in his waiting- room. He asked me if I were a vegetarian. I bowed, but, sus- pecting a trap, remained silent. There was a trap, for he said I must eat plenty of meat, whereon I said I always did, as much as ever I could get. Then he told me I must give up meat at once. If I did not, then I would surely die. It might be two years, or it might be thirty years, but certainly I would die in the end. I asked if I would die any sooner for eating meat.
He replied that I might and I mightn't. Time alone would show. Then, approaching me slyly from the rear, lie took me quite by surprise, and I fled in some confusion.
Thus it was I. came to see a new physician. He was a quite scholarly-looking man, and apparently was engaged in solving the mystery of the universe. Quickly solving it, he turned to me and caused me to count ninety-nine, never, however, allow- ing me to quite reach the century. Very tantalising. After a time lie turned sadly to me and sighed. He said he could do this and possibly that, but still I would die. I told him that another doctor had told me that already. At this he seemed a little disconcerted, but said the other doctor was undoubtedly thinking of something else. As a matter of fact, I might not
44 THE SPEC ULUM. May. 1918.
die. Lest I should profanely take this to mean I was immortal, he added, "not for some time."
Now, I thought, was the time for bold measures. Seeing that the physicians could not fathom my complaint, now is the time for a firm spirit. I determined to wait upon a surgeon or two.
The first one I went to said it was a clear case of stones.
Indeed, it was as pretty a case of stone as he had seen for a couple of days. Quite a coincidence that he.had just procured a new stone-crusher of original design and action, almost pro- vidential. I tried to be enthusiastic, but I couldn't. As a matter of fact, I wasn't quite sure exactly what it was sup- posed to crush, and I didn't like to ask. Even when he called me his dear fellow I somehow couldn't summon up courage to walk into the jaws of his stone-crusher. Instead, I retired as gracefully as my stones would permit me.
Blindly, and on the skirts of happy chance, I walked into the thirteenth apartment in the street. An obsequious little person bowed and waved his good wishes, but when I gave him my hat and rain-coat he didn't take them. Instead, he waved his hands deprecatingly and wanted to know what he could do for me. This was more than I could imagine, so I left it to him. It was quite safe to do so. Without doubt, he said, mine was a case for complete hysterectomy, with tubes. A difficult matter, of course, but he would treat my case with as much care as a vice-regal case. What more could he say? God knows, but I couldn't suggest anything except to say that I was afraid I wasn't a very suitable case for historictomy ; the last time it was done on me it was nearly fatal. So reluctantly he called it off, and it came to a toss-up between gall-bladder and plating the femor. It stayed there, for I felt a sudden and fierce desire for travel, and I appeased'it most skilfully.
And now I live the life of a recluse. Not.because I like it ; in fact, I hate being a recluse. But I must remain in hiding owing to some difference of opinion as to the ownership of a little matter of petty cash. In the meantime, a companion in distress, and my only visitor, keeps bringing me accounts for professional services rendered. I dislike owing the profession money, though not as much as they dislike being owed ; espe- cially when I think of the benefit I received. No money would repay their services. I think it just about would.
"Jaundiced Joe."
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May, 1918. THE SPECULUM. 45
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