Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-06-08
MEDICINE OF PURE AIR
A DAY OF LIFE IN A MODERN
CONSUMPTION SANAToRIUM.
Heaps of Heavy Food That Must Be
Eaten and Long Walks
Taken.
From the London Express.

some phthisis-stricken wretch spat on the
pavement Because he did so, and because
1t fell to me to pass that way, l am mere
in exile, phthisis-stricken myself, on far
away west country hilltop. Here, with the
scent of the Irish channel in our nostrlls
and gray sea mist swirling overhead these
stormy spring days, forty Of us are gather
ed together in phthisis sanatorium look
ing upon ourselves as among the first fruits
Of a great experiment. We are helping 10
demonstrate the durability of the incuraoie.
Twenty of the gathering are women, quar-
tered over there in a big, square house, IVY
hidden, and monotonously picturesque.
Here hundred yards away, are the men
quarters, a whole hamlet of brown bunga-
lows, emerging from the green OF wlde
field like clump of toadstools.
When you have taken in the fact that
both house and bungalow seem to swarm
with huge, obtrusive windows lnslstenlry
propped open, even in the keen east wind
despite, your knowledge of the experiment
goes a step further. For the requisites or
a phthisis cure are fresh air in plen1tude,
clinical Thermometer. fund OF anli li.dt
spirits (this is the patients contributon)
and doctor who must combine the quail
tiles of martinez, private detective ana
a good chap. But, first Of all, pure air. MY
bungalow by way Of example is medium
sized bed room but 1t has two big windows
and two doors. One door gives straight to
the field outside. 1t stands open day ana
night. So, too, does at least one big wln-
dow. But for the mitigating effect OF
set of hot-water pipes. curing phthisls
would be chilly operation. But conceive
yourself, If you can, living in a bed room
with an everlastingly wide-open door giving
to the open fields. Given fresh air, you can
begin your day here with two others of the
requisites-your doctor and your thermom-
eter.
A Busy Hour in the Morning.
Half-past seven or eight is a business
hour for all the medical staff Of the place.
score Of patients have to be visited by
each doctor before breakfast, and provided
with a mornings work. 1t is the ther-
mometer that determines how strenuous
that work is to be. A temperature well be-
low normal means full work for the pa
tent and work means walking exercise.
For the stalwart whose lungs are well on
the mend, the doctors sentence may be
seven ten or even more miles. For the
weakling now but half-emerged from the
valley of the shadow" the walk may De
a crawl of half a mile. or even less so,
too, with the victim Of high temperature.
But every patient gets his allotted march
ing orders almost as soon as he Is awake.
Your doctor knows the country as II ne
were an ordnance map. First pile or
timber this side of Babington," he may
tell YOU, and you. will find the timber there.
Less comforting is the direction, GO to
Suicide Cottage" but that, too, may be In
the days work.
Then breakfasts commonplace break
fast, not by any means toned down to In
valid delicacy. You eat your solid ham
and tongue and your bacon and eggs ana
sausages as though you were hale ana
whole. Moreover, your UBIQUITOUS doctor
is there to see you do it, and to see that no
fragments remain. An earnest doctor has
been known to pursue a recalcftrant pa
tent carrying to him two or three crusts
which had been left neglected. And there
is no appeal.
Due Submission Of Patients.
The shame faced patient must submit.
With breakfast as with all meals, appears
q pint of milk. the sorest of all trials for
the sickly Nine o'clock. or soon after,
sees the inhabitants Of the sanatorium
spread themselves over the countryside for
the allotted walk. And it is no fair weather
performances. Rain, snow or shine, the
walk must be accomplished. and small need
is paid to soaked garments.
Whatsoever the weather, and whether the
walks Termination be far or near, one un-
bending rule holds good. Until noon no
patient who has been sent for a walk must
show his or her face inside the sanatorium
grounds. And to take two or three hours
walking a mile in driZZing rain is no en-
viable occupation. 1t may be said. You
may rest by the roadside when and where
you please, but walking-time means en-
1OrceQ absence from nome. AT noon. the
walk whatever its length, must have been
completed, and there follows, as a natural
corollary of the walk, a rest hour" And
a rest hour means rest SO complete that
| you must use a chair which lifts your feet
| off the ground. So unexciting pursuit as
! letter writing is banned, and moreover,
| again your doctor Is there to see you carry
| out orders
The Ordeal of Dinner.
| No light matter the days big meal, which
| follows. To the weakling there are times
when dinner spells torture, and, indeed,
| two meat courses one after another de-
| mand attention from any stomach. Not
| that all dine alike. Your doctor, with a
vast dish before him. doles out to each his
appropriate mess, and men and women of
gastric capacity are helped with no light
hand. Plain roast and boiled, 1t is mostly,
with mountains Of vegetables to help It.
Your doctor sees to the height of the noun
| tain.
| Unhappy wretches spend whole after
moons wrestling with those helpings. for.
perforce. all must be eaten. and when the
| finale happens to be suet pudding or dog
| in the blanket the afternoons misery Is
complete. walk shorter than that Of the
morning. and lasting till half-past 4, is the
work for the afternoon. After that, for the
| first time in the long day. the patients
| time Is his own, and he can breathe as
\ freely as his damaged lungs will allow.
| But once again, at O'clock, the authority
has him. and unfit { he fnust perforce
| undergo q second rest hour" After that,