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Reinstrom followed me out of the door and we entered a private room of the hospital where another woman patient lay in bed carefully watched by a nurse. "How do you do?" I nodded to the nurse in a modulated tone. "Everything progressing favorably?" "Perfectly," she returned, as Reinstrom, Haynes and myself formed a little group about the bedside of the unconscious woman.
I was much impressed and had imported the treatment to Hillside. While we waited I reached into my desk and drew out the letter to which I referred, which ended, I recall: "As Dr. Reinstrom is in America, he will probably call on you. I am sure you will be glad to know him. "With kindest regards, I am, "Fraternally yours, "Director, Leipsic Institute of Medicine." "Most happy to meet you, Dr.
"How simply you do it all, here!" exclaimed Reinstrom in surprise and undisguised admiration. "You Americans are wonderful!" "Come see a patient who is just recovering," I added, much flattered by the praise, which, from a German physician, meant much.
Before us two nurses and a doctor were in attendance on one. I spoke to the Doctor, Dr. Holmes, by the way, who bowed politely to the distinguished Dr. Reinstrom, then turned quickly to his work. "Miss Sears," he asked of one of the nurses, "will you bring me that hypodermic needle?
Reinstrom, Thompson, about whom my friend in Germany wrote the other day," I remarked, nodding to the attendant to admit Dr. Reinstrom. I might explain that while I was abroad some time ago, I made a particular study of the "Daemmerschlaf" otherwise, the "twilight sleep," at Freiburg where it was developed and at other places in Germany where the subject had attracted great attention.
All the way back to the office he was loud in his praises and thanked us most heartily, as he put on his hat and coat and shook hands a cordial good-bye. Now comes the strange part of my story. After Reinstrom had gone, Dr. Holmes, the attending physician of the woman whom we had seen anesthetized, missed his syringe and the bottle of scopolamine.
How are you getting on, Miss Stern?" to the other who was scrubbing the patient's arm with antiseptic soap and water, thoroughly sterilizing the skin. "You will see, Dr. Reinstrom." I interposed in a low tone, "that we follow in the main your Freiburg treatment. We use scopolamin and narkophin." I held up the bottle, as I said it, a rather peculiar shaped bottle, too. "And the pain?" he asked.
"What is that it hurts!" she said putting her hand on the bandage I had tied tightly. "That is all right. Just a moment. I'll take it off. Don't you remember it?" I asked. She shook her head. I smiled at Reinstrom. "You see, she has no recollection of my tying the bandage on her arm," I pointed out. "Wonderful!" ejaculated Reinstrom as we left the room.
"And you say they have no recollection of anything that happens?" asked Reinstrom. "Absolutely none if the treatment is given properly," I replied confidently. I picked up a piece of bandage which was the handiest thing about me and tied it quite tightly about the patient's arm. As we waited, the patient, who was gradually coming from under the drug, roused herself.
Chiefly noticeable, it seems to me, were his mustache and bushy beard, quite medical and foreign. I am, by the way, the superintending physician, and that night I was sitting with Dr. Thompson, my assistant, in the office discussing a rather interesting case, when an attendant came in with a card and handed it to me. It read simply, "Dr. Ludwig Reinstrom, Coblenz." "Here's that Dr.
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