, from one of the most lingering and painful diseases known,
preserve, till within a few days of death, not only the healthy colour
of the cheek, but the mottled appearance of a robust child. And scores
of times have I heard these unfortunate creatures assailed with, "I am
glad to see you looking so well." "I see no reason why you should not
live till ninety years of age." "Why don't you take a little more
exercise and amusement?" with all the other commonplaces with which we
are so familiar.

There is, unquestionably, a physiognomy of disease. Let the nurse learn
it.

The experienced nurse can always tell that a person has taken a narcotic
the night before by the patchiness of the colour about the face, when
the re-action of depression has set in; that very colour which the
inexperienced will point to as a proof of health.

There is, again, a faintness, which does not betray itself by the colour
at all, or in which the patient becomes brown instead of white. There is
a faintness of another kind which, it is true, can always be seen by the
paleness.

But the nurse seldom distinguishes. She will talk to the patient who is
too faint to move, without the least scruple, unless he is pale and
unless, luckily for him, the muscles of the throat are affected and he
loses his voice.

Yet these two faintnesses are perfectly distinguishable, by the mere
countenance of the patient.

[Sidenote: Peculiarities of patients.]

Again, the nurse must distinguish between the idiosyncracies of
patients. One likes to suffer out all his suffering alone, to be as
little looked after as possible. Another likes to be perpetually made
much of and pitied, and to have some one always by him. Both these
peculiarities might be observed and indulged much more than they are.
For quite as often does it happen that a busy attendance is forced upon
the first patient, who wishes for nothing but to be "let alone," as that
the second is left to think himself neglected.

[Sidenote: Nurse must observe for herself increase of patient's
weakness, patient will not tell her.]

Again, I think that few things press so heavily on one suffering from
long and incurable illness, as the necessity of recording in words from
time to time, for the information of the nurse, who will not otherwise
see, that he cannot do this or that, which he could do a month or a year
ago. What is a nurse there for if she cannot observe these things for
herself? Yet I have known-