The Icelandic Canadian - 01.12.1961, Page 55

THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
53
The old frame house which I left was
cold, but at the San it was colder still.
All windows were kept wide open, no
matter what the weather, and the wind
blew under the doors, with the exept-
ion of the front door.
On my arrival a bath was prepared
for me in a bathroom which was far
from being warm. Then I was put to
bed, and covered with a sheet and two
woolen comforters. I did not find this
sufficient covering and felt chilled.
Two women patients in the room
greeted me in a friendly manner and
plied me with questions. I was doubt-
less short in my replies and had little
to say about myself. Never before in
my life had I been ill, or seen the in-
side of a hospital, and now I had sud-
denly become a hospital patient. I
found this turn of events somewhat
depressing. I had always had a strong
desire to learn, and now I must aban-
don my studies, at least for some time
to come. It was well that I did not
know then that it was to be final.
“Don’t you wish to close the win-
dows?” I asked my new roommates.
They looked at me with surprise.
“Windows must never be closed
here”, one replied, shaking her head at
my ignorance.
“Not even if one is chilled right
through?” I asked.
“No. Not even then. They must be
kept open, day and night.”
“ No matter what the weather!” 1
asked, not liking the prospect.
“Yes. In every kind of weather. The
cold kills the germs.”
“But doesn’t the cold kill the people,
too?” I asked.
“Not nearly everybody”, was the
earnest reply. “People get used to it.”
I could not refrain from laughing.
One of the women looked at me. “It
is well that you can be in good spirits”,
she said. “I cried all my first evening
here.”
“That would not make me feel
better”, I answered, with a good show
of cheerfulness, although at the same
time I did not breathe too easily.
“That’s true. What’s the use of self-
pity and complaints”, said Svava. She
was a pretty woman, tall, slim, and
erect, with a commanding air.
“You can scarcely speak to that, you
who havealways been on your feet”,
commented Asdis drily.
Svava compressed her lips and made
no reply. Subsequently, I learned that
her lungs were indeed not seriously
affected, but that she suffered from an-
other malady, which was destined to
cause her death shortly. I suspect that
she was aware of this condition.
I did not feel too well on my first
night at the San. My bed was near the
window and during the night a bliz-
zard developed, with the wind blowing
full blast through the open window.
In the morning there as a snow-drift
on my bed.
That morning I reported for exam-
ination. The head-doctor examined
me very closely.
“Your ailment is in its incipient
stage”, he said. “If all goes well you
need not be here very long.”
I rejoiced greatly to hear this.
My instructions were that I could
stay on my feet and that I was to sleep
in an open balcony, no matter what the
state of the weather. There were many
complaints concerning this regulation
about sleeping outside, especially from
new arrivals.
There was a large number of patients
at the San and patients were continual-
ly coming and going, some going to
the world of the living and some to
the world of the dead.
I did not stay on my feet very long.
My chill developed into pleurisy and