The Outlandish Companion - Diana Gabaldon [172]
“He said—that when something like that happened, sometimes there would be a sort of formal inquiry, at the hospital. Not like a trial, not that—but a gathering of the other doctors, to hear exactly what happened, what went wrong. He said it was sort of like confession, to tell it to other doctors, who could understand—and it helped.”
“Mm-hm.” She was swaying lightly, rocking me as she moved, as she rocked Jemmy, soothing.
“Is that what’s bothering you?” she asked quietly. “Not just Rosamund—but that you’re alone? You don’t have anybody who can really understand?”
Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, her hands crossed, resting lightly on my chest.
Young, broad, capable hands, the skin fresh and fair, smelling of fresh-baked bread and strawberry jam. I lifted one, and laid the warm palm against my cheek.
“Apparently I do,” I said.
The hand curved, stroked my cheek and dropped away. The big young hand moved slowly, smoothing the hair behind my ear with soft affection. “It will be all right,” she said. “Everything will be all right.”
“Yes,” I said, and smiled, despite the tears blurring my eyes. I couldn’t teach her to be a doctor. But evidently I had, without meaning to, somehow taught her to be a mother.
“You should go lie down,” she said, taking her hands away reluctantly. “It will be an hour at least, before they get here.”
I let my breath go out in a sigh, feeling the peace of the house around me. If Fraser’s Ridge had been a short-lived haven for Rosamund Lindsey, still it had been a true home. We would see her safe, and honored in death.
“In a minute,” I said, wiping my nose. “I need to finish something, first.”
I sat up straight and opened my book. I dipped my pen, and began to write the lines that must be there, for the sake of the unknown physician who would follow me.
[end section]
#: 471087 S8/Research & craft [WRITERS]
23-Aug-97 12:02:31 Sb: #470988-SPOILER—Penicillin Fm: Elise Skidmore S/L 6 71576,375 To: Diana Gabaldon 76530,523
Dear Diana,
As usual, this piece of writing from you is wonderfully done. While I don’t know anything about the medical aspects, the emotional ones ring true. I am always a bit awed when I read these excerpts. You make it look so easy.
Now, I haven’t a clue what “cupping and blistering for epileptic fits” is, but I was wondering at your use of “fits.” I was always told that term was incorrect, that “seizure” was the “proper” word. I know you’re dynamite at research (as this whole excerpt proves), so I’m wondering, would Claire have used “epileptic fits”? When I was around 10–11 (’64-’65), my girlfriend’s mother used to have these seizures all the time and I can remember being told about it back then so I don’t think it’s a PC thing. With Claire being a doctor, I’d think she’d be more sensitive about the wording, but then, I could be wrong. It’s happened before. :-)Elise
#: 471147 S8/Research & craft [WRITERS]
23-Aug-97 15:49:11 Sb: #471087-SPOILER—Penicillin Fm: Diana Gabaldon 76530,523 To: Elise Skidmore S/L 6 71576,375
Dear Elise—
No, the proper word—and the one Claire would use herself—_is_ “seizure.” However, what she’s doing there is not contemplating epilepsy _per se_, but thinking of Rawlings’s casebook descriptions. And he, being an eighteenth-century practitioner, very likely did say “fits.” “Fits,” by the way, was common usage in the American South, well into this century. My great-grandmother, from Kentucky, wasn’t at all countrified, but she said “fits,” and so did most of her family. Cupping and blistering, by the way, was a process in which small fires were lighted on the skin, to draw evil humours to the surface. In re “You make it look so easy.” Just to put things in perspective, this is just about two weeks’ work you’re looking at. 23-Aug-97 16:44:19
#: 471158 S8/Research & craft [WRITERS]