In 1931-1932 he suffered from a blocking off of the blood vessels that drain the leg, a condition which has very serious possibilities. He weighed these possibilities, says Dr. Richard S. Austin, but like most patients he figured there was always the chance that he might not have to pay the price. He was like the physician who when told to practice what he preached replied, "Did you ever know a sign-post to walk down the road?" He bore his illness with fortitude, concealing from his family and friends the vexation that he felt as the activities which were life itself to him were curtailed more and more. When entering the church in procession with the choir, he would never use a cane though he was often suffering acutely, but squaring himself, and throwing back his shoulders, he would march resolutely on. As he crossed the chancel to enter his pulpit, something of his old vigor was apparent, and as he preached, his voice was strong and clear. If he was less animated, he was no less intense, no less the tremendously invigorating preacher. One day in the parish house Canon Symons met him carrying a heavy bag. He was about to leave for one of his frequent periods in the hospital, and Canon Symons remonstrated with him and tried to take his bag, but Mr. Nelson refused, saying, "No, I won't. I would rather drop in my tracks than to save myself and spend endless days in hospitals." At the Annual Meeting of the Parish on April 10, 1939, Mr. Nelson presented his resignation, "not because I want to quit, but I am concerned that this parish should not weaken. This church is facing, as every church is facing, a new day; and it needs the leadership of younger and stronger men." It was accepted with marked reluctance to take effect when his successor should be chosen and had arrived. On May 21st the parish and many of his friends outside Christ Church celebrated his forty years' ministry in the one church and city, and there was a singular out-pouring of people. At the conclusion of the observance he wrote a friend: Though it was not so stated in the bond, it saved me from a farewell celebration. I preached at all three services, and it saved me the embarrassment of listening to eulogies, and saved others from having to deliver them! But everyone was fine about it. They decorated the Altar with gorgeous red roses, and me with my red Seminary hood (He wore his Doctor's hood rarely and always looked rather sheepish when asking his secretary to take it out of the safe!), and we had the two choirs at eleven o'clock, and lovely music at all the services. So the day went well, and we're all glad it is well over. In a letter to another friend he said: