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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s
Page 157
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it back to my room and buried it in bed with me! There came a day at the Clinic when Dr Sharpe - Dr Gray's assistant announced upon dressing the abdomen. "The incision is pretty well healed now. You may displace the binder with a girdle." "Yes but Dr Sharpe," I had to confess "that is all very well but I have no girdle. Should I go out and buy one?" I wanted to know. "Oh no! We don't want you to do that!" he quickly, emphatically interposed my thoughts, for it was obvious I wasn't to use my energy bobbing around looking for girdles. It was my nice nurse put at St Mary's, however, who jumped to the rescue and organized getting me one. So it was she who fixed it so that I might shed my cumbersome mummy figure, and get my glamorous waist back. In order that I might also inspect the specimen, Dr Sharpe gave me a permit to the laboratory, I was anxious - of course - so I did not punish him to forget, but he reminded him again that he had promised me a book. Having acquired the card, however, I took the elevator to the top floor of the old Clinic building and presented the order. The girl in charge, after a short waist, brought out a more sizable jar than I had expected to see. Needless to say I was quite impressed by the contents. I viewed it quite objectively and without the faintest sign of distaste. It seemed not to have any slightest connection what-so-ever with me. Strangely enough it seemed nothing at all out of the ordinary, all ridges on the inside as I had expected, and looked to me like any pig's stomach might. It didn't take the specimen, however, to convince me that there had been a gastroenterostomy - but it did make me even more respectful. I figured the battle and examined it with difference but I could make little fit. The anatomy of a
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it back to my room and buried it in bed with me! There came a day at the Clinic when Dr Sharpe - Dr Gray's assistant announced upon dressing the abdomen. "The incision is pretty well healed now. You may displace the binder with a girdle." "Yes but Dr Sharpe," I had to confess "that is all very well but I have no girdle. Should I go out and buy one?" I wanted to know. "Oh no! We don't want you to do that!" he quickly, emphatically interposed my thoughts, for it was obvious I wasn't to use my energy bobbing around looking for girdles. It was my nice nurse put at St Mary's, however, who jumped to the rescue and organized getting me one. So it was she who fixed it so that I might shed my cumbersome mummy figure, and get my glamorous waist back. In order that I might also inspect the specimen, Dr Sharpe gave me a permit to the laboratory, I was anxious - of course - so I did not punish him to forget, but he reminded him again that he had promised me a book. Having acquired the card, however, I took the elevator to the top floor of the old Clinic building and presented the order. The girl in charge, after a short waist, brought out a more sizable jar than I had expected to see. Needless to say I was quite impressed by the contents. I viewed it quite objectively and without the faintest sign of distaste. It seemed not to have any slightest connection what-so-ever with me. Strangely enough it seemed nothing at all out of the ordinary, all ridges on the inside as I had expected, and looked to me like any pig's stomach might. It didn't take the specimen, however, to convince me that there had been a gastroenterostomy - but it did make me even more respectful. I figured the battle and examined it with difference but I could make little fit. The anatomy of a
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