“YOUR LIFE IS NOT WORTH A STRAW.”

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1169, 27 July 1894, Page 35

“YOUR LIFE IS NOT WORTH A STRAW.”

Not worth a straw, eh ? Then it w,3 worth just nothing—nothing at all. Who lias not used that comparison a thousand times to express absolute worthlessness ■* A straw? The wind blows it away, firo burns it up, cattle tread it in the mud, iff rots by the roadside. What of it ? Who cares for a straw ? Yet this is exactly what a doctor recently said to one of his patients, “ Youir life is not worth a straw.” How much is a doctor worth who will speak so to one that trusts him, and has no hopo but in his skill ? For my part, if he wero up for sale at auction, I would bid one* straw for him—no more. Even if what lie* said was true, he had no right to say it. Such a doctor is more likely to kill with his tongue than to cure with his drugs. A woman tells the story, and she tells iti well. If it doesn’t sound like the truth, then I don’t know what ever does. Tho dates and the facts are all there, plain and orderly.

“ In the summor of 1878,” she says, “ 1 found myself feeling tired, languid, lowspirited and wea. I felt as if some evil were about to happen. My appetite wars poor, and after eating I had excruciating pain at my loins and sides. There was ;u horrible gnawing pain at the pit of my stomach, and a rising in the throat as if 1 should choke. My head felt as though I had a ton weight on it. Gradually I goff worse, and for months could take only liquid food. At night I lay awake for hours together. “ Later on I suffered greatly from nervous prostration. My legs trembled and shook so I feared to fall. If a knock came to the door I trembled from head to foot. I had frequent attacks which began with palpitation of the heart and sudden stoppage of the breath. At these times I was speechless and helpless. They say I looked like a corpse, cold and bloodless, my fingernails and lips having turned black. After while this would pass off, leaving me weak and prostrate. I got so emaciated and thin, that I was only a bag of bones, and so weak I had to take hold of the furnitura to steady myself as I crossed the room. As time went on the nervousness and forebodings of evil so increased that I feared I should go out of my mind. The neighbours said it would be a mercy if the Lord would release me from my sufferings. “In this condition I continued for over four years, during which time I consulted five doctors, but nothing they gave me did any good. They all said my ailment was heart disease, and one said, ‘ Your life is not worth a straw.’

“ In despair I gave up taking physic, as I felt that nothing would save me. Iri May, 1882,10 years ago, a lady (Mrs Richardson) called at my house, told me oC Mother Seigel’s Curative Syrup, and strongly advised me to try it. I did so, and felt somewhat better after the first bottle; and by the time I had taken three bottles I was completely cured. From that to this I have had no return of the attacks, and am so strong I can do any kind of work. But for Seigel’s Syrup I should have been in my grave long ago. I wish others to know this, and will answer any who call or write. —(Signed) Emma Wicxenden (wife of William Wickenden, gardener), Pembroke Villas, 123, Moffat road, Thornton Heath, March 17th, 1892.”

So it turned out that her life was not only worth a straw, but worth a whole golden harvest of health and better days. Yet no thanks to the doctors. Her complicated symptoms puzzled and alarmed them, to be sure, but why ? Is it not the doctors’ duty to understand such things ? Most assuredly. Just as a lawyer should know the law, or a pilot the rocks, tides and lights of a coast. Had some of these medical men known that Mrs Wickenden’s malady was indigestion and dyspepsia, and not heart disease, they might possibly have relieved her. But, confused by the symptoms, they were blind to the cause. Wa may well wonder if there are many such doctors in England. Cases like this show that the clear sight; belonged to Mother Seigel ; and to her remedy hosts of people in this country are indebted for physical salvation when, in. very truth, their lives seemed as straws. Remember this was ten years ago, and the malady has not returned, showing that the cure was a permanent one.