“It is, sometimes, for a doctor. I remember one little patient who had
a very light case of scarlet fever. I let her get up as soon as the
fever broke. Three months later she developed a dropsical tendency. And
one day she fell dead across the doll she was playing with. The
official cause of death said heart disease. But I knew what it was. The
next case was not so wholly my fault. The boy was a spoiled child, who
held his parents in enslavement. They hadn’t the strength of character
to keep him under control. He insisted on riding his bicycle around the
yard, three days after he was out of bed. Against his willfulness my
protests were of no account. What I should have done is to have thrown
up the case; but I was young and the people were my friends. Well; that
boy made, apparently, a complete recovery. A few weeks later I was sent
for again. There was some kidney trouble. I knew, before the analysis
was made, what it would show: nephritis. The poison had struck to the
kidneys like a dagger. The poor little chap dragged along for some
months before he died; and his mother—God forgive me if I did wrong in
telling her the truth, as I did for the protection of their other
child—almost lost her reason.”
“And such cases are common?” asked Mr. Clyde.
“Common enough to be fairly typical. Afterward, I cited the two
instances in a talk before our medical society. My frankness encouraged
some of the other men to be frank; and the list of fatalities and
permanent disabilities, following scarlet fever and measles, which was
brought out at that meeting, nearly every case being one of rushing the
convalescence—well, it reformed one phase of medical procedure in—in
that city and county.”
“That settles it for Charley,” decided Mr. Clyde. “He stays in bed
until you certify him cured, if I have to hire a vaudeville show to
keep him amused.”
“My boy is not a spoiled child!” said Mrs. Clyde proudly. “I can handle
him.”
“Maybe he wasn’t before,” remarked Grandma Sharpless dryly; “but I
think you’ll have your hands full now.”
“Therefore,” said Dr. Strong, “I propose to enlist the services of the
whole family, including the children.”
“What! Let the others go to see Charley when he’s peeling?” protested
Mrs. Sharpless. “They’ll all catch it.”
“How?”
“Why, from the skin-flakes. That’s the way scarlet fever spreads.”
“Is it?” said the Health Master mildly. “Then perhaps you’ll explain to
me why doctors aren’t the greatest danger that civilization suffers
from.”
“I suppose they disinfect themselves,” said the old lady, in a rather
unconvinced tone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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