Default Metadata, or override by section

Dearest mother,

I am writing this lying in bed—the doctor wishes me to keep as much in bed as possible—but I have to keep in, as I cannot move yet without great difficulty, & I am liable to dizziness & nausea, at times, on trying to move, or even sitting up—But I am certainly over the worst of it, & really—though slowly—improving. The doctor says there is no doubt of it—

Yesterday afternoon I eat something like a meal for the first time—boiled chicken, & some soup with bread broken up in it—relished it well—I still have many callers—only a few particular ones are admitted to see me—Mrs. O'Connor comes & a young woman named Mary Cole—Mrs. Ashton has sent for me to be brought to her house, to be taken care of—of course I do not accept her offer—they live in grand style & I should be more bothered than benefitted by their refinements & luxuries, servants, &c—

Mother, I want you to know truly, that I do not want for any thing—as to all the little extra fixings & superfluities, I never did care for them in health, & they only annoy me in sickness—I have a good bed—a fire—as much grub as I wish & whatever I wish—& two or three good friends here—So I want you to not feel at all uneasy—as I write, Peter Doyle is sitting by the window reading—he & Charles Eldridge regularly come in & do whatever I want, & are both very helpful to me—one comes day time, & one evening—I had a good night's sleep last night—My mind is just as clear as ever—& has been all the time—(I have not been at all down hearted either)—(My January pay is due me, & as soon as I get up, I shall forward you your $20.)

Dear sister Lou,

Your letter came this morning & was very pleasant to get it—I shall be getting well soon—am on a fair way to it now—

latest ½ past 4

I have just set up & had my bed made by Pete—I am already beginning to feel something like myself—will write in 2 days—