Reardon

Beyond Cure

This man often likens himself to Mr. Shenlong, taster of a hundred herbs, who swallowed many virulent poisons by mistake; by the physician’s account he has no more than five days left, and lingers on in a lingering breath, a walking corpse. What he says and records day to day is likewise nothing but a repeated account of his own symptoms. A few are specially excerpted below:

All day he repeats two or three short phrases; the phrases are mostly jocular and vulgar. His speech is unbridled, his words coarse and foul to hear.

He can neither sleep nor eat in peace; seated, he must shake his legs and shrug his shoulders; in bed, he tosses and turns without a moment’s stillness.

Short of stature, skin over bones, thin and frail.

His eyes are spiritless, his mouth and nose stink, his ears breed rotting sores.

 

#Life Notes