| OCR Text |
Show 238 milk carton by rotating fruit jars of hot water. When the mother's temperature went up her milk gave out, of course, and the baby had to be put on formula. It was, of course, premature, weighed four pounds, two ounces, and was very weak. When it became too weak to suck the nipple for its formula I didn't know what to do, and felt guilty for not foreseeing this. "You will have to put a tube into its stomach and introduce the milk with a syringe, " Dr. McQuarrie told me. We didn't have the equipment, the tube, nor the syringe, so again a man had to go out on snowshoes for it, wake the druggist, and come the thirty miles back. The mother survived the fever, the baby gained on its injected feedings, and the roads opened in about a week. The first car out was that of Dunyons (the newest, nicest car in camp), and the first passengers were the baby and the mother, with me along to get them safely there. The relief was so great that Mr. Young went to bed to recover from the nervous stomach which afflicted him every time a crisis occurred, like the time the men let a large quantity of concentrate run down the pipes to the sand dump. I continued with the massage to Mr. Turnbull and he limbered up slowly, but steadily. Mr. Young sent him on a vacation and Mrs. Turnbull finally persuaded him to go to a doctor, not for treatment, but to see if he could be diagnosed. The doctor told him about the accumulated chemicals, and said massage was the only treatment that would have helped him. I was called into Mr. Young's office again, and given a raise. I now had twenty-five dollars per month. My husband also had a raise to three dollars |
