In September, 1898, my physician said I must have an operation performed to relieve a trouble from which I was suffering, and the sooner the better. Thinking that possibly he might be mistaken as to his opinion of the case, I consulted most of the prominent physicians here, but they all, with one exception, pronounced it a cancer, and advised an operation at once. As this one visited the prominent hospitals in Europe every two years, I concluded to try some new French remedy which he said would help me if anything could be done without a knife.

He treated me until the following July, when he and several other physicians decided that an operation was the only thing that would save my life. This was very discouraging to me after doctoring so long. I had the operation the seventh of July. For four weeks I was very sick at the hospital, and for several days it was thought I could not live. However, at the end of four weeks I was well enough to be moved to my home. For several months I suffered a great deal.

In about three months after the operation I felt the same trouble coming on in another place. This time I felt obliged to go to a lady physician who is considered one of the best in the city and was recommended to me by a leading physician here, in fact, her name is well known throughout the country. She examined me and treated me for about three months. At times I was a little better and then again I was worse. I finally said to her that she must tell me what trouble was, and she informed me that I would have to have another operation in order to be relieved, and that it was the same trouble I had before. This information almost drove me insane, as I had such a horror of the operation and felt that I would die if I had one; besides, I did not have the means.