DIY History | Transcribe | Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries | Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s

Transcribe
Translate

Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s

Page 103

to rub my back. She served her purpose in the game of pretense extremely well - a rather clever idea, who ever was responsible for her. In passing it should also be noted that my back was only rubbed when a check was to be made on my stomach on whether it ached or not. In this procedure, I lost my slip and the Chinese nurse dug my pajamas out of the overnight case. I found my self clad in my pajamas and [illegible] seriously enough, I was still clinging to my stuck shoes. All this time I was demanding to know, "When do I go?" showed her my dismissal slip and asked for a boy. "Boy! Boy!" she would repeat. "Who on earth sent you in here?" I urgently asked.
"Sister." was the answer.
"Do I get a boy?" I insisted.
"What is your name?" and she went out.
And thus the afternoon went - and was going. I was beginning to be annoyed and tired of this monkey business and began to wonder whether I was going or not. About four I began yelling again for more cream-milk. A nurse whom I had never seen on the floor came in with a blood-pressure apparatus under her arm. "Then about getting a boy and moving me out of here?" I again reiterated.
"I will take care of that" she answered in a clipped business-like voice and in an unmistakable manner snatched my dismissal slip and flipped out of the room. Instantaneously I realized my dismissal slip was gone for good and that I was not leaving St Mary's that day.
Needing to know what all this delay and fuss was about I rung again asked to see Sister Rebecca and a boy. I began too, yelling in earnest for my dismissal slip. It was imperative

Saving...

to rub my back. She served her purpose in the game of pretense extremely well - a rather clever idea, who ever was responsible for her. In passing it should also be noted that my back was only rubbed when a check was to be made on my stomach on whether it ached or not. In this procedure, I lost my slip and the Chinese nurse dug my pajamas out of the overnight case. I found my self clad in my pajamas and [illegible] seriously enough, I was still clinging to my stuck shoes. All this time I was demanding to know, "When do I go?" showed her my dismissal slip and asked for a boy. "Boy! Boy!" she would repeat. "Who on earth sent you in here?" I urgently asked. "Sister." was the answer. "Do I get a boy?" I insisted. "What is your name?" and she went out. And thus the afternoon went - and was going. I was beginning to be annoyed and tired of this monkey business and began to wonder whether I was going or not. About four I began yelling again for more cream-milk. A nurse whom I had never seen on the floor came in with a blood-pressure apparatus under her arm. "Then about getting a boy and moving me out of here?" I again reiterated. "I will take care of that" she answered in a clipped business-like voice and in an unmistakable manner snatched my dismissal slip and flipped out of the room. Instantaneously I realized my dismissal slip was gone for good and that I was not leaving St Mary's that day. Needing to know what all this delay and fuss was about I rung again asked to see Sister Rebecca and a boy. I began too, yelling in earnest for my dismissal slip. It was imperative