Emily Fessenden was constantly nervous. She fretted. She daydreamed. She had dreams that disturbed [and fascinated] her. She was sometimes very pleasant with the household staff, and other times she was unexpectedly rude. She had spells of depression, and would lock herself in her room, or sit on the small balcony overlooking the well-groomed garden, refusing to take meals. Constantly she had vague unusual sensations in her body. Dull headaches often bothered her.
Her husband of three years, Herman, was a successful and very busy businessman, operating a sawmill, small mercantile, and was part-owner in a modest hotel. He was important and powerful in the community. Herman had married Emily for 'business reasons', and because his father had strongly pressured him into taking a wife. He had never really had much interest in women or romance. Herman's true loves were commerce, and money. He was seldom in his three-story Victorian home. He breakfasted there, and came home past 8 o'clock most evenings. The home was ornate, well-appointed, and staffed by two maids and a valet-chauffer.
Emily was a beautiful, petite woman, with pale complexion, blonde hair, and fine features. Her figure was that of a slender young teen, with slim hips and smallish breasts. She wore her hair in the style of other ladies of privilege in the 1880s, sometimes accented by tortoiseshell or ivory combs. Her jewelry, particularly her collection of cameos and pearls, was unsurpassed. Her garments were the finest in town, custom made by the finest seamstress of the most lush fabrics. She had gone to Emelda Gruber's School for Young Ladies, and had excelled in music, art, and dance.
Herman's father and Emily's parents had gone to great lengths to 'arrange' the marriage of their children. Both were upper-class families, and Herman's father and Emily's father had met while attending Business College 30 years earlier.
Herman simply did not have time for Emily. He had employees to supervise, ledgers to review, and investments to consider. They had had a lavish wedding, but Herman cancelled the honeymoon, because of a fire that had destroyed the top floor of his mercantile exchange. That had been three years ago. Emily had scarcely seen Herman since the wedding. In the beginning, she took breakfast with him in the dining room, but Herman all but ignored her, preferring to scrutinize balance sheets, or read the morning paper. He spoke but few words to Emily, gave her a peck on the cheek -- some mornings -- and dashed out the door to the carriage, where the driver awaited with Herman's hat and a cigar.
Emily was lonely. She had decorated the house -- and redecorated it. Herman was generous with the household expenses -- she had nothing to complain about in that regard. Emily shopped; she did that very well. She spent many hours in the dress shoppe, deciding on fabrics, laces, and being fitted for opulent dresses. She visited the jeweler the hat shoppe regularly. At first.
But gradually, she began to lose interest in shopping. She had more than enough dresses, shoes, hats and delicate undergarments. She had 'Fessenden House' filled the house with costly furnishings and imported rugs. She was bored. And lonely. And eventually depressed.
Emily began to have physical symptoms, also. She became nervous and easily agitated at times. Her head ached. She had very little energy. Emily sometimes slept all night, and then slept two to four hours in the day. She would feel faint when standing up quickly. At times her fingers and hands, or her feet would tingle. Her thighs felt heavy or ached at times. And her lower abdomen -- her pelvis felt heavy. And there were almost constant sensations of tingling and fine vibrations or tremors. The symptoms were driving her into despair and apathy. She stopped shopping, and remained at home most of the time. She seldom breakfasted with Herman, and often was asleep in her bedroom when he returned from work.
The maids were concerned with the debilitation of the lady of the house. Herman noticed, too -- eventually. He was frustrated by the fact that he could not entertain business associates and prospects. He could not have people to dinner, while Emily was secluded in her rooms. He could not be seen at social functions or dinner parties without his wife.
Herman summoned Dr. Gentry to the house, to examine Mrs. Fessenden.
Dr. Gentry was a recent graduate of medical school, and Herman hoped that he would be familiar with the most recent diagnostic and treatment methods. Dr. Gentry had studied psychology. At the appointed time, Emily received Dr. Gentry in the parlor for a consultation. She recited her symptoms to him, and he meticulously took notes. At times he nodded his head with understanding, but more often he was perplexed by her symptoms. He prescribed a tonic for Emily, and told her he would call back in two weeks to evaluate her progress.
Emily took the tonic -- a tincture of valerian root and alcohol. She took it as Dr. Gentry prescribed, but it only made her more lethargic, and she slept even more hours during the day.
Dr. Gentry returned to interview Emily, and learned that it had not helped her any of her symptoms other than headache. She still felt dizzy at times. She was nervous. And she had this heavy sensation in her thighs and pelvis. Sometimes, she said, she could not take a deep breath. She felt restless all the time, and she was having disturbing dreams practically every night. He had no idea what she may be suffering from, and thought it must be at least partially physical, and not only her 'nerves'.
Dr. Gentry informed Herman that he did not know what was wrong with Emily, and suggested that Dr. Fallow be called. Dr Gentry was daunted by Emily's symptoms, and, truth be told, was quite inexperienced in 'women's disorders'. Herman knew that Dr. Fallow had been in practice for almost 30 years, and was popular among the 'working classes of the community. Dr. Gentry felt that Emily required a complete examination, and, having very limited experience in that sort of thing, himself, urged Herman to call upon Dr. Fallow.
The Consultation
The next day, Herman did visit Dr Fallow's small office, above the bank. George Fallow appeared very much like a stereotypical doctor -- gray hair and beard, small wire-rimmed spectacles, vested with pocketed watch and gold chain, and a loosely tied cravat. Herman explained some of Emily's perplexing symptoms to the fifty-something doctor and that Dr. Gentry had been perplexed by her case. Dr Fallow listened carefully, asked a few questions of Herman, and agreed to consult with and examine Emily the following afternoon.
Thursday morning, Emily stayed in bed until 11. Lucy, one of the maids, told Emily that Mr. Fessenden had arranged that Dr Fallow would be coming to interview her about her poor health. "Not another doctor" she groaned. Lucy spoke up and said that she had some friends who had been helped by Dr Fallow, and encouraged Emily. She refused the breakfast that Lucy offered her, and reluctantly [and slowly] bathed, brushed her hair, and put on a satin dressing gown.
At 1 o'clock, Dr Fallow appeared at the Fessenden home, carrying his well-worn leather medical bag. He was escorted into the parlor, where a debilitated Emily awaited in an upholstered Eastlake style chair.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Fessenden," Dr Fallow said pleasantly, faintly bowing his head. "I'm Dr Fallow -- but please call me George, if you like."
He strode confidently toward Emily, and took her small hand, which she had politely extended to him.
Smiling politely at the handsome older gentleman, Emily said, "Please have a seat. Which do you prefer? Dr Fallow, or George?"
"George will do just fine, Mrs. Fessenden," he replied as he sat his leather doctor's bag on the floor next to his chair.
"Then please call me Emily, George. I understand that you have come to hear about my ailments?"
"Yes, we'll talk a while, then if time permits, I'd like to examine you Emily."
A blush colored Emily's cheeks. Examine her? Lucy had not mentioned an examination. An examination, she wondered, what sort of examination?
"First I'd like you to tell me about your condition. Every so often I will interrupt you, asking you to clarify or give specifics. I assure you that whatever you tell me will be held in the strictest confidence. In fact, I will not disclose details to your husband -- only the generalities of my evaluation."
Emily was curious, but she began to recite her symptoms to the kindly-looking doctor.
"I am nervous, doctor...George. I often feel very anxious and jittery. Restless is a good word. Sometimes it is only in my mind, but other times I feel faint tingles or vibrations or something like tremors in my body."
"How often do you feel this way?"
"Constantly," she sighed. "All the time," she emphasized.
"I see," the doctor said, reaching into his pocket for pencil and small notepad, and beginning to write. "And the physical symptoms -- the tingling and the sensations of vibrations -- where do you feel them?"
Emily lowered her eyes momentarily, then raised them to meet the doctor's inquisitive gaze.
"Especially in my thighs," she said, feeling a little anxious, but assuring herself that George was a doctor.
"In your thighs," George repeated as he wrote. "Anywhere else?"
