Wednesday, April 8, 2015

My Problem


The quarter was moving smoothly.  I had a good schedule.  All of my classes except two were Industrial Arts classes and my PE class was Track with Red.  Introduction to Education was an important course if I planned to teach.  The instructor, Dr. Whitfield made the subject interesting with his examples and situations.  The sociology class, Youth and Marriage was interesting but tough.  It was a five credit course with a lot of reading.  I wasn’t a fast reader so spent hours on preparing for this class.  I was having a good spring quarter.  Soon it would be time for final tests that would end the quarter and my second year of college.  It seemed to be going by quickly.  Next year would be the start of the last half of my college career.

Then it happened.  I started to feel lousy and had a sore throat.  Tom suggested I stop by the college infirmary to see if they might give me something so I could finish the quarter.  I took his advice and wandered into the small wood frame building located close to Sutton Hall.  The nurse took one look at me and knew I wasn’t feeling well.  After the exam she said I was coming down with mumps and would have to be quarantine in the infirmary.  She didn’t want an out break of the mumps, as everyone would be finishing their quarter and heading home.

I found myself hustled into bed in one of the few rooms in the infirmary.  I was the only patient at the time and I could see why the nurse was concerned there might be an outbreak of mumps on campus.  Where would she put the patients?  My concern was how I could finish my classes.  The nurse couldn’t let me out of bed to take tests.  I got in touch with Tom who notified all of my instructors and found solutions to my dilemma.  In the meantime the nurse had conferred with college officials and the conclusion was, I should be sent home immediately with out further contact with any student body or staff.

Tom was my only contact with the outer world, as he had mumps early in life and was immune.  He reported that all my instructors except those teaching the two academic classes would take my work at this point in the quarter to determine a grade. The other two instructors would send me a sealed test packet that a proctor, possibly a high school instructor would administer and return.  The instructors would give me an incomplete and enter the grade when the test packets were returned.  The test packets were sent to the infirmary before I left.

Details were happening rapidly, too fast for me to keep track of in my sedated condition.  Mom was called and informed I would be returning home early.  My health problem was thoroughly discussed so she wouldn’t be worried.  A train reservation was made for me and Tom drove me and my belongings to Spokane to catch my ride home.  I thanked him repeatedly for all the help he was giving me.  He helped me on board and to my surprise deposited me in a compartment with a bed made and waiting.  Tom explained they didn’t want me to contact passengers, so I was shut away like a leper. He said goodbye and exited before the train pulled out of the station.

It was a long, unpleasant ride as pain in my throat increased as well as  swelling.  The porter stuck his head in occasionally to see if I was still alive.  I had water to drink and a food plate appeared while I was dozing.  My dreams were mixed with the sound of the train, the pain in my throat and some anxious thoughts about my college classes I left so abruptly.  They were wild dreams, part reality.  I remembered having these dreams when I was ill as a youngster.

Finally the train pulled in to Miles City and I couldn’t wait to get out of my cell.  The porter told me to hold for a minute as someone would be arriving to take me off the train.  It seemed like an hour, but I know it was only a few minutes when Mom showed up in the compartment door.  She and a friend gathered my belongings and we left the train.  It was only a short walk to the car, but I was weak.  When we arrived home I felt like I had run the mile.  Mom bedded me down on the sofa and there I stayed for a number of days.  I don’t recall the exact number, but I was to stay quiet until the swelling receded, so complications could be avoided.

As I improved it was difficult to stay quiet.  I was able to line up a proctor at the high school and began studing for my two tests.  After the swelling was gone and my temperature back to normal, I took the tests and the proctor sent the results to EWC.  I noted when my transcript came; I had received a B in Intro. to Education and a C in Youth and Marriage.


It was a traumatic finish for the quarter, but it was over and now my thoughts turned to a summer on the ranch, as far away from books and schedules as I could get.  Things on the ranch looked good to me and I threw myself into the work to be done.


*Taken from "Which Road Should I Follow?, Volume 1, Growing up in the country", an autobiography by Edwin K. Hill.
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