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Updated: May 23, 2025
Why don't you just drop everything and go to Canada? perfectly quiet, not a soul there, and, I believe, nowadays quite fashionable." Thus, after all the patients had been sent away, Dr. Slyder and his colleagues of Plutoria Avenue managed to slip away themselves for a month or two, heading straight for Paris and Vienna.
Not that they were ill; but the doctors of Plutoria Avenue, such as Doctor Slyder, always preferred to send all their patients out of town during the summer months. No well-to-do doctor cares to be bothered with them. And of course patients, even when they are anxious to go anywhere on their own account, much prefer to be sent there by their doctor. "My dear madam," Dr.
I told him and Silk told him we all told him his only chance was to keep away from every form of nitrogenous ultra-stimulants. I said to him often, 'Podge, if you touch heavy carbonized food, you're lost." "Dear me," I thought to myself, "there ARE such things after all!" "It was a marvel," continued Slyder, "that we kept him alive at all.
The student repeated the question, and poor McTeague fell forward over his desk, paralysed." "Is he dead?" gasped Mr. Furlong. "No," said the president. "But we expect his death at any moment. Dr. Slyder, I may say, is with him now and is doing all he can." "In any case, I suppose, he could hardly recover enough to continue his college duties," said the young rector.
As he drew on his gloves in the hall below he would shake his head very impressively and say, "You must keep him very quiet," and so pass out, quite soundlessly. By this means Dr. Slyder often succeeded in keeping people quiet for weeks. It was all the medicine that he knew. But it was enough. And as his patients always got well there being nothing wrong with them his reputation was immense.
The doctor had examined him, questioned him searchingly as to what he drank, and ended by prescribing port wine to be taken firmly and unflinchingly during the evening, and for the daytime, at any moment of exhaustion, a light cordial such as rye whiskey, or rum and Vichy water. In addition to which Dr. Slyder had recommended Mr. Rasselyer-Brown to leave town.
McTeague will never be able to resume work?" "Oh, absolutely for granted," said Dr. Boomer. "Poor McTeague! I hear from Slyder that he was making desperate efforts this morning to sit up in bed. His nurse with difficulty prevented him." "Is his power of speech gone?" asked Mr. Boulder. "Practically so; in any case, Dr. Slyder insists on his not using it. In fact, poor McTeague's mind is a wreck.
Slyder would say to a lady who, as he knew, was most anxious to go to Virginia, "there's really nothing I can do for you." Here he spoke the truth. "It's not a case of treatment. It's simply a matter of dropping everything and going away. Now why don't you go for a month or two to some quiet place, where you will simply do nothing?" Or else he would say, "My dear madam, you're simply worn out.
Slyder in black clothes glide into the club in that peculiar manner of his, like an amateur undertaker. "Hullo, Slyder," I called to him, "you look as solemn as if you had been to a funeral." "I have," he said very quietly, and then added, "poor Podge!" "What about him?" I asked with sudden apprehension. "Why, he died on Tuesday," answered the doctor. "Hadn't you heard?
Slyder tells us that paralysis of the brain very frequently has this effect; it soothes the brain clears it, as it were, so that very often intellectual problems which occasioned the greatest perplexity before present no difficulty whatever afterwards. Dr. McTeague, I believe, finds no trouble now in reconciling St. Paul's dialectic with Hegel as he used to.
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