October 11 Monday — In Redding, Conn. Sam wrote to William Henry Bishop in N.Y.C.
My dear Bishop: / You have located my pain exactly—“the centre of the breast bone”—but the one in the lung is your private property. I lack it. A distinguished allopath referred mine to the heart, & began to empty drugs into me—(& I have a horror of drugs.) At the end of a fortnight it was plain that the drugs only relieved, they didn’t reduce the number of attacks per day; so I stopped drugging.
Next, the osteopath said there was a bone out of true—nothing the matter with the heart. He adjusted the bone; came up again, after 3 days, & readjusted it; came after another interval & re-readjusted it. Then I discarded him. But retained the pain.
An old servant of ours said the hot-water bag would appease the pain temporarily. Very well, it did. Once. I said that if it was the hot water that did it on the outside (inconveniently) why mightn’t it on the inside (conveniently.) So I tried it & it worked, I have drunk oceans of hot water since then (two months.) If half a glass doesn’t stop it, I go on—go on filling myself up. With the certainty that the hot water will win out, presently.
There’s a thermos of hot water at my elbow day & night. But that is for possible emergencies; in these latter days; the emergencies are pretty rare, now.
My daughter—who is not a physician & doesn’t know anything—said the pain was due to indigestion; a curious idea, since nobody’s stomach & bowels could beat mine for perfect performance. It may be that she is right. I don’t know. Still, if I eat moderately, no pain comes; but every time I over-eat, it comes. I seldom over-eat now, therefore the pain & I are getting to be strangers. Moreover, I have stopped eating rich desserts—they often brought me the pain; especially if I assisted them by over-indulging in innocent stuffs,
With cordial good wishes / Sincerely Yours / ... [MTP].