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I wrote you the enclosed note3 in a happy
frame of mind on Tuesday. Tuesday night I retired from the world with a nasty attack
of neuritis. I held my letter up, hoping that my arm and shoulder would get better,
as they have often done before,.
bBut this time
I seem to be in for something worse than usual, and I've begun the dreary round of
medical investigation. Much as I hate it, I've got to disappoint you and Mary Virginia4 and myself. I had planned a jolly
holiday, and I perfectly hate giving it up. Please forgive me for not letting you
know before; I thought I might have luck
and get over this. But it remains too painful to allow me to go a-visiting.
I've been having attacks of neuritis for eight years. It's an affliction very incompatible with my profession, as six or eight weeks of steady writing usually brings on an attack, as in the present instance. I can work about half an hour, and then I have to lie down with a hot water bottle.
Yes, m'am, thank you, I've plenty of doctors,– and much good they do.! I have no
dead teeth, and they've already cut out my
tonsils, so they have very little to work upon.
I've made up my mind to go up to see Virginia and her school this winter, however, and I'm not going to be done out of it. After Christmas I'll appear on your scene. When I get to a breathing place in my story5, and my arm and shoulder are behaving well, I'll take a Boston6 train without plans, and call you up from the Parker House7. This letter will not disappoint either you or the child so much as it does me.
Faithfully yours Willa Cather