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  Dear Walt,

For many days I have tried to write you, but the pressure is so great that I can't get the moment to sit down, for as yet I am the only nurse, & my duties are constant, much of the time. If things get worse I shall have to have a man   to help me lift & nurse William. This morning after your card came he asked me to write & tell you how very ill he is. The attack he had on the 18th was less severe than the one a year ago on the 16th of Jan. but he is so much worse in all other ways, &   the lower limbs so useless that all is harder for him. He feels discouraged for the first time, & says the outlook is very gloomy. His constant annoyance from the bladder trouble now is worse than all else, & so far the Doctors have not reached it at all.   If Dr. Bucke comes in soon can he not, will he not, be able to run over & call on us? I am sure he could advise me how to nurse & care for William in the best hospital manner,—as yet he has not at all come to the idea that any one but me is needed,—& I don't mean to suggest it till I   have come to the point where I must, & can't do for him, but he is very helpless & very heavy.

I try to keep my courage up, & not to look ahead more than I must.

William sends love, & is always glad to hear. He can read but not write.

  With all best wishes, & with love— Nelly O'Connor.

At this moment he is dressed & sitting up reading, but feeling very quiet, & very silent.

E. M. O'C.