SLEEPY WOMAN

Greymouth Evening Star, 30 March 1935, Page 10

SLEEPY WOMAN

I DOCTORS & FRIENDS MYSTIFIED i A strange, unexpected medical case ... a victim of mysterious, trance liko sleep . . lies day and night in a room facing south above a shop in High street, Wimbledon. Miss Eleanor Coburn is her name. She is nearly 93, and for the past four years her case has puzzled doctors, friends, and those who take care of her. In the midst of doing something she will suddenly fall into a deep sleep which sometimes last for several days. Thon she will be awake for a day

and night, alert, vivacious, in full possession of her faculties. She will be bright and talkative, will write long letters to her innumerable corre--1 spondents, read rather heavy biojgraphy, and thoroughly enjoy life and 'her friends. I Then once again—swiftly, without warning—she will fall into a trancelike sleep. There is no gentle drifting off. She will be unconscious for another 4S hours or more. As the months pass she sleeps just a little longer each time. During these spells of sleep Mrs Grccott, who has looked after Miss Coburn for 26 years, has to feed her. She gives her a little broth, finely minced chicken, or custard. Usually Miss Coburn swallows automatically. Occasionally she does not and has to be left until she awakes. An interviewer saw her soon after she had awakened from a two-day sleep.

She was an enchanting picture of pink-cheeked old age. Her clothing was of deep lilac, from the frilled bonnet on her head to the fingerless mil:ens on her frail hands. I “It distresses me," she said in her low, cultured voice. “Let me see. This time, this time.” She turned to Mrs Grocott. “1 have been asleep such a long time. I don’t know what happens to me. i don’t dream. T Just disappear. "This old body of mine. How sick of it I am, failing me in this way. I certainly have no wish to live to be a hundred. I have done enough, lived long enough. I suppose now my tired body is revenging itself this way. 1 do not fear death. "I am American, but I have lived

I over here for more than 50 years. I i looked alter my mother, who uas ili J tor nine ytars, almost night and d-r-. j “Since then J have never been able:

to sleep much ... I suppose that, p j the reason why I lose consciousacia j this way.” i Though Miss Coburn did not dis-! close the facts, it is known that for the past 20 years she has worn herself out helping unfortunate, lonely and poverty-stricken women and girls in a volunteer club in the East End. These women and girls write io her now whenever they want spiritual comfort. Often they visit her. One woman has called six times in the last five weeks, but each time Miss Coburn has been asleep. It distresses her that she should be asleep at such times. But she can never tell when sleep will come upon her. Nor can anyone else. ;