vol 5 paraphrase pg 98
'Now, kids, when I go out, I don't want you to make any noise. Your mom isn't feeling well, and you children need to be considerate of her.'
'Oh, Mom's sick again?' said little Nathan, his face falling.
'Poor Nathan! He doesn't like it when Mom's sick. We all have to be so quiet, but there's nowhere we can go to do anything. It doesn't feel like home when Mom's not around.'
'Makayla's right,' added Caleb, who was the oldest. 'If I was big enough, I'd run away and go to sea, Mom's so sick all the time! But, Dad, isn't it odd how she was so well yesterday, doing all kinds of work, helping the maids to clean out the kitchen cabinets? And now today, she's too sick to move or talk. But by tomorrow, she could be our cheerful mother again, well enough to go catch shrimp with us, or anything else!'
'That's because your mother's so selfless, Caleb. It seems like the moment she's feeling better, she does more than she should for all of us, and then she ends up sick again. I wish we could teach her to be more selfish and think of herself--not just for her sake, but for us, too. Having her
vol 5 paraphrase pg 99
with us is better than all the things she can do for us, right, Caleb?'
'You bet! We'd take such good care of her, if she'd let us! But whatever she has must be strange. Remember when we had scarlet fever, Dad? Well, for weeks and weeks after the fever was gone, I was no stronger than a kitten. I couldn't get up and get around and do things for other people, no matter how unselfish I was (if I was unselfish, that is!) That's what's so strange. Do you think Dr. Prideau knows what's wrong with Mom?'
'More than you do, I'm sure, Caleb. But I have to admit, your mother's illness is a mystery to us all. Okay, kids--off you go! I need to send a couple of emails before I go.'
Mr. Jumeau never did send his emails. He sat at his computer desk staring at the monitor, pondering the nature of his wife's strange illness. What Caleb had brought up with his boyish frankness was a thought that had already vaguely occurred to him. Whatever his wife's problem was didn't seem to affect her physical strength. The episodes came on suddenly, left just as suddenly, and always left her feeling great and in good spirits. And that was surprising since, during an episode, she'd be laid up in bed, pale, and with blue lips that were painful to even look at. Besides, his wife was so truthful by nature, so unselfish and devoted to her family, that it was as unlikely that she'd pretend to be sick as it was to think she might rob a bank. These episodes had happened for several years. Mr. Jumeau had spent quite a bit of money already on doctors and alternative care practitioners. But nothing seemed to help. 'She has no sign of infection or disease.' 'She's just stressed.' 'Give her plenty of rest, healthy diet, frequent change of scenery, no excitement. Nature
vol 5 paraphrase pg 100
will cure her in time, but it will take time. We need to be patient, sir.' He had heard this kind of thing again and again. At least their conclusions seemed consistent; that was some comfort.
He went upstairs to have a last look at the invalid. She lay on the bed, stretched out with her arms and legs composed, and rigid as death. A tear fell from her eye as Mr. Jumeau kissed her. Then he went out, aching with a vague, undefined dread. If he focused on that feeling and put it into words, he'd have to confess that he feared that one day, she would slip into that death-like stillness and never come back.
And what about Mrs. Jumeau? She felt the tear run down her cheek, heard her husband sigh, and heard his disappointed footsteps as he left. Her weak pulse stirred with . . . was it joy? But the 'attack' wasn't over yet. For hours, she just lay there, rigid, speechless, eyes closed. She didn't notice the gentle opening of the door from time to time as various members of the family or the servants came to check on her. Weren't they afraid to leave her alone? No, not really--we can get used to anything. Mr. Jumeau, the children and the servants were all used to Mrs. Jumeau's 'attacks.' Dr. Prideau came after her husband called. He tried extreme measures to restore her, but they didn't help. She was aware of his efforts, but she wasn't aware of how hard she was resisting them.
Mr. Jumeau had urgent business meetings, so it was late before he was able to return, although he was anxious all day. It was the warm kind of evening that sometimes comes in London in late May, when windows are opened to let in the breath of spring. When he was almost at the end of the street, he could hear familiar snatches of a tune from Wagner's Parsival, played on the piano with the energy needed to play Wagner. Could it be his wife? It couldn't be
vol 5 paraphrase pg 101
anyone else. As he got closer, her exquisite touch at the piano keys was unmistakable. So then, the attack must be over. Oddly enough, his joy was mixed. What was the meaning of her strange episodes? What was causing them?
It was a great evening. Mrs. Jumeau was in the best mood. She was sweet to her husband, thoughtful and maternal with her children, who were all in bed by now, and ready to talk eagerly about anything at all--except the episode that morning. If the subject was even hinted at, she'd laugh it off as something too trivial to dwell on. She was up bright and early the next morning, since she had decided to go on an outing with the children. They didn't go shrimping, like Caleb had mentioned. They decided to take a trip to the botanical gardens. Even after a long day seeing the gardens, neither she nor the children were all that tired when they returned home.
'I must get to the bottom of this,' thought Mr. Jumeau.
'Your wife's case is complicated, Mr. Jumeau. If I come right out and say that Mrs. Jumeau is psychosomatic, you'll get the wrong idea and refuse to hear anything else I have to say.'
Mr. Jumeau's expression grew dark. 'Even if you said that, I'd be more inclined to trust my own senses. My wife isn't pretending to be sick.'
'That's to be expected. Faked illness and psychosomatic illness are so often confused. It's no wonder. Psychosomatic disorders are so misunderstood. They affect both men and women. I knew a pastor in northern England who suffered from psychosomatic laryngitis. He was a popular evangelical preacher, and his congregation was fully sympathetic.
vol 5 paraphrase pg 102
Of course, he couldn't preach, so his devoted congregation sent him to southern France to heal, then to Algiers, then Madeira. After each of these of these curative trips, he'd return rested and well, but unable to raise his voice above a whisper. This went on for three years. Then his Bishop got involved. He said that the church needed a preacher who could be depended on permanently, and fully able to do the job, and he'd find someone to replace the ailing preacher. The next Sunday, the preacher preached and never lost his voice again. And this wasn't a lazy man trying to take advantage. This was a sincere, honest Christian who would rather be working than idling about on trips around the world. His case wasn't all that unusual. But it's human nature--if you take any person and keep him in bed for a week or two, perhaps with a bad cold, he'll submit to pity and spoiling, complain about all kinds of little symptoms, and feel like every one of them is serious and life threatening. And that's an active person! A sedentary man is often as likely to succumb to this foe as readily as a woman. In fact, I've seen it happen with dogs! Haven't you ever seen a dog limping pathetically on three legs, milking the pity for all it's worth, until his master whistles and then he takes off on all fours?'
'This isn't making a lot of sense; what does any of this have to do with my wife?'
'Give me a minute to explain. The throat seems to be a commonly affected area. I knew a lady, a very nice lady, who went around for years speaking in a painful whisper, while everyone said, 'Poor Mrs. Marjoribanks!' But one night, her bedroom curtains caught fire
vol 5 paraphrase pg 103
and she rushed to the door screaming, 'Ann, Ann! The house is on fire! Come here quick!' That dear woman sincerely believed that something 'burst in her throat' that night. She described the sensation in detail. Her friends believed her and her doctor didn't contradict her. For the record, the most effective remedy in these cases seems to be a house fire, but obviously that wouldn't be the best treatment in every case. I do know of a case, though, where the house fire prescription worked great. It was in a London women's hospital. There was a very puzzling case--a patient hadn't been able to move her arms or legs for months. She was lifted in and out of bed like a log, and spoon-fed her meals as if they were being poured into a bottle. Well, one clever young resident schemed with all the nurses. In the middle of the night, they filled her room with fumes and glaring light. She tried to cry out, but the smoke was suffocating. She jumped out of bed and ran for the door. The smoke was choking her. She threw the window open, a fireman threw her up a rope ladder, she climbed down through the window, and was safe. The whole thing was a hoax, but it cured her, and the method was always kept secret. Here's another example. A friend of mine decided to treat one young woman suffering from a psychosomatic illness in his own home. He hired a trained nurse, forbid any of her family to visit her, and waited for the expected cure. But she didn't get any better. 'That's odd; there must be some reason,' he thought. And he discovered that every night, the girl's mother was sneaking in to wish her child goodnight! When these maternal visits were stopped, the girl finally recovered.'
'Those are interesting examples, but I don't see what they have to do with my wife. Each of your cases involves a person with weak or disordered intellect faking an illness for no clear purpose. At least the street beggars
vol 5 paraphrase pg 104
who know how to create sores on their body have the advantage of doing it for money.'
'I don't think I explained myself very well. These weren't people with weak or disordered intellect. In fact, they were the opposite. They weren't faking their illnesses, either. Not one of them believed they were capable of making the effort that they were tricked into. The whole question is an issue of what goes on in the gray area between physical and psychological science. Note that it doesn't even enter the area of pathological disease. Treating pathological diseases isn't something I'd be trying to explain to a lay person.'
'I'm trying to understand.'
'Keep trying--it's worth your while. If every man made an effort to understand the few things we know about this fascinating subject, he might be able to save his own family members and perhaps even himself from a lot of misery and wasted energy. As I've said, psychosomatic disorders don't only affect the female gender.'
'Go on--I'm still not seeing that this has anything to do with my wife.'
'That's because psychosomatic disorders look different in every case. It's like a million-headed monster whose heads all look vastly different from each other--yet each one is the same monster. To understand what's at the root of it, we have to consider human nature itself. We talk casually about what we inherit from our ancestors and what we experience from our environment, and assume that these two factors make up everything there is about human nature. But that's not true. Those two aspects only account for a few peculiarities in a person. Aside from these, people come into the world equipped for life with certain things that we don't think enough about. It's a huge subject, so I'll limit myself to mentioning just one or two items.
vol 5 paraphrase pg 105
'We're all imperfect beings, and we come into the world subject to the uneasy stirrings of a very few basic desires. In other words, the poorest inner-city child and the richest infant prince both are subject to the desire for esteem, the desire for companionship, for power, etc. Some children are more prone to certain desires, and others are more prone to other desires. Because of their modest nature and position of dependence, women tend to be subject to the desire for esteem. They crave attention and being well-thought of at any price. When men desire esteem, they have meetings, or the best seat at dinners. Even pyromaniacs and social outcasts crave esteem in the form of notoriety, or esteem from bad people, at any price--and the result is cities in flames, or serial murders. A person uses what he knows to gain the esteem he craves--a gnawing craving that stems from his earliest awareness. But a decent woman doesn't have very many outlets or options. All of the esteem that comes her way is in the form of affection from those in her sphere. She needs esteem; it's vitally necessary to her very nature.
are literally the 'daily food of human nature' for her.
'And then her personal experience gets involved. When she's sick, she becomes the center focus, the object of special attention to everyone she loves. So, to get the esteem she needs, she'll be sick.'
'Wait a minute, you're contradicting yourself! You're not talking about a decent woman, but one who's deceptive and lives a premeditated lie!'
'No, I'm talking about a good, decent woman. Now there's a condition that hardly anyone considers. Mrs. Jumeau lies in bed with rigid arms and legs
vol 5 paraphrase pg 106
and a pale face for hours at a time. Is she pretending all of this? It would be as difficult as pretending to have a gunshot wound. But people often forget the intimate relationship and cooperation of the mind and body. The body submits itself involuntarily to carry out what the mind conceives of. Mrs. Jumeau isn't thinking herself into a deathly paleness. What's happening is that every tiny nerve fiber that's entwined with every microscopic capillary that brings color to her cheeks, is connected to her mind. In obedience to her thinking brain, those nerves and capillaries relax or contract. When they relax, there's free flow of blood, bringing color and life to her body. When they contract, limp pallor and listlessness result in the look and sensation of a death-like trance. The whole mysterious episode depends on the cooperation of invisible thought and physical reactions. Most women aren't aware of this connection. And here's my diagnosis of what's happening: the patient craves visible evidence of the esteem that her human nature so desperately needs. Her sub-conscious mind remembers how these displays accompany physical illness. Her physical body apprehends the situation and responds by making her sick. It doesn't take long before the displays of esteem no longer come every time she's sick, but the habit has been established. Her body continues to bring on these periods of sickness that bring real suffering to her--yet she hasn't the slightest idea that she's unwittingly been the cause.'
Mr. Jumeau was slowly convinced. Now that he could see that his wife was totally blameless, he could accept the rest of it. Not only that, but he began to realize that there had been an underlying problem in the beginning, before she began having these attacks--how else could his wife have been forced to take such abnormal measures to satisfy a craving that was entirely justified and understandable because it was part of her human nature?
vol 5 paraphrase pg 107
'I'm beginning to understand. So then, what do I need to do?'
"In Mrs. Jumeau's case, I'm going to recommend something that I wouldn't suggest to almost anyone else. Tell her everything I've told you. Put the situation into her hands. I don't need to tell you to avoid making her feel disgraced. Trust her--she'll do the right thing and come up with a way to save herself. Yet, all the time, she'll need your wisdom and gentle help. As far as your children and servants, they have less
[so they should be instructed to give her the attention she deserves, but not to encourage the attacks by rewarding them with pity and attention when they come on.] That should help quite a bit. Unfortunately, this condition that plagues too many of our best and most organized women in one way or another, is just one more example of how lives are ruined by education that's not only imperfect, but goes in the wrong direction.'
'Education? How could education help in this situation?'
'Well, if all women knew the basic facts, even as slightly as what I've just shared with you, then the best women would take steps to make sure it never happened to them. It would simply put them on their guard. It's not enough to give them accomplishments and higher education. Those things satisfy their desire for esteem only temporarily. But they need more than a warning signal. Women, as well as men, need to have their share of important work in the world in order to receive esteem from the world. Even as a cherished wife and mother, she needs
vol 5 paraphrase pg 108
to be involved with the world's needs and be able to minister with the gifts she has. It's a fact that we're all 'brethren,' male and female, and women as well as men suffer when they're secluded from common life.'
Mrs. Jumeau's life wasn't 'ruined.' It turned out just as the doctor predicted. For a few days after she learned about his theory, she was too ashamed and embarrassed to even look her husband in the face. But then she rose to the need, gathered her forces, fought her own fight, and found victory.