103.
1926:
Rapid City, Man. October 18,
1926
Dear A.L.P.,
Well, you see, that's as you look at it. Better than last
Tuesday? Yes. Better than say, 2, 3 weeks ago - no. I've
had 3 stocks - the initial one, exactly 5 weeks ago, light.
I went to bed; treated in the usual way, etc. A week ago
today I thought I was considerably better, able to move about - in
bed - quite freely. Tuesday night I wanted to get on to a
chair, to have sheets changed, etc. I had had no doctor yet.
Well, I took about 5 minutes to get my feet on the floor
and sat on the edge of my bed. Or rather, supported myself
there with my hands. If then I had reached for the chair
with any left, all might have been well. But I made a mistake
and raised my right hand. Lightening struck me. I yelled
for 3 or 4 minutes, tossed about by my muscles which were
locking and unlocking as in a case of strychnine poisoning.
Then my whole right side, and my left hand and toes locked.
Perfectly clear in mind meanwhile, the power to feel pain
exquisitely unimpaired. I knew, nothing would unlock those
muscles but morphine. So there was nothing else to be done
but to send for the doctor - my mortallest enemy. He wanted
to examine and tortured me for five minutes till I yelled
at him to put morphine into the big adductor muscle near
the spine. For a wonder, he obeyed. Within an hour I relaxed.
Mrs. G. wrote you for the next day because it seemed doubtful
whether I'd ever walk again (it is still doubtful). But on
Thursday I began to improve. Though I had another very slight
shock last night.
Now, as to your visit. You see, I am in-bed in my study
where to furniture has been pushed to the walls. As for you
and R., there will be no inconvenience whatever if you don't
mind sharing a very large, very comfortable bed and will
take things as we give them - we are poor people you know.
Please, don't disappoint us.
Setters - your fault? Bosh. If I ever thought it was the
publishers fault, I'd feel better about it.
No, re Adolescence I have heard nothing.
Tribune - yes, they ask for more, at least are willing to
read more. I'll see them when I get up again, if I ever do.
Cheerful? At bottom no. I myself am profoundly despondent.
I have to have everything done for me. Have to be fed like
a child, washed, etc. Still, Mrs. G. and the children go
to school, and at night they laugh, and I make them laugh,
etc. The future? A problem.
Well, so long. Saturday at 3, eh?
Bye, Bye,
F.P.G.
You see I can't be left alone at night. So Mrs. G. makes
up a bed for herself in the parlor. I have her bed. And you & R.
will have my room upstairs.
If you are charitable, for the lord's sake, send me some
books, anything at all. I'll return them promptly. Preferably
good books.
