“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Once again Jane ate very little for lunch, although Georgia had said she did okay for breakfast. She’s still starving, essentially. Jane and Georgia talked and smoked while I was down to billing. Jane said she’d have a session later, then changed her mind as I got ready to do mail. Her voice was very shaky, not very distinct, rather high-pitched and with little inflection. Eyes open and closed.)

(As I massaged Jane’s left leg, she made so much noise — moaning — that Georgia came in. I explained the benefits, and showed her what I was doing. Georgia understood. After the session I massaged all of Jane’s limbs — and once again achieved excellent results. Jane had more motions in her legs and feet especially. And in spite of those good results, once again I wondered: What did you have to do to even get back to the perch from which you’d recently fallen?)

(Georgia called at about 11:30 this morning. Jane asked me to come down to 330 early, so I did. I was working on Chapter 9 — just starting it — of Dreams. Just as I was opening the garage door, I met a woman who had pulled into the driveway, who has a tumor and wanted to see Jane. She’d written us several times and I stopped answering after a while.

(In Georgia’s room, I met a nurse who used to take care of Jane. She’d had the same operation, a myelogram, that Georgia is to get for a herniated disc. She gave Georgia plenty of negative suggestions while I was there: “You don’t get over something like that very quickly,” etc. [...]

[...] On the way to Jane’s room, I stopped in Surgical 1 to give Georgia the unicorn we’d bought for her yesterday, and the poem Jane had written, which I’d transcribed onto the card we’d also bought. Georgia is to be operated on next Tuesday.

(Georgia also told us, with Patty, that they’d just heard that the administration of the hospital had decided to close down the section room 330 is in, because “they’d just realized that Surgical 3 is short of staff.” A lot of patients will be going home over the holidays, Georgia said, and those remaining, like Jane, would be moved elsewhere. [...] Georgia said she was going to protest the decision to nursing service, downstairs. [...]

[...] While Jane was having a cigarette, Georgia came in to tell us the projected closing of Surgical 3 was now off. Georgia had indeed complained to nursing service, and in turn they had agreed to cancel the idea. [...] “I told them I’d refuse to be a floater,” Georgia said, meaning she didn’t want to be constantly shifted around. [...]

(After a good lunch—which Georgia had started feeding her in my absence—Jane said that in hydro yesterday morning, on the litter, both arms “did better than they ever have in the water. [...]

[...] Georgia came in and set up the portable fan on the desk; this breeze helped a lot. [...]

(Jane was upset when I got to 330 this noon: Her catheter had been completely pulled out of her this morning after hydro, when Georgia and Steve had transferred her back into bed from the litter. [...] “Your wife won’t be speaking to me anymore, after what I did to her this morning,” Georgia said to me as I walked down the hall to 330. [...]

[...] Jan and Georgia stopped by. [...]

[...] Then Jane told me that Teresa is only in her mid-50’s, and that Georgia said she’s quite rational in between her spells of calling for help. [...]

(On my way to 330 Georgia called me in to her room and said she’s to have some sort of back surgery next Monday or Tuesday. [...]

Georgia Cecce.

Georgia Cecce.

Georgia Cecce.”

(Shortly after I got there, Georgia came in, all smiles, to tell us that this morning her doctor had told her she didn’t need to have surgery after all. I’d told Georgia the same thing last week. [...]

[...] Georgia had brought the menus for the week, but I didn’t get time to fill out all of them. [...]

[...] Christina kept calling for Georgia, who’d taught her her name last time. [...]

[...] She told me that she’d had to counter negative suggestions given to her in hydro this morning by both Lottie and Georgia, relative to new bedsores breaking out beside the sits of old ones—in other words, she was always to have bedsores. [...] Georgia agreed, though I don’t know to what extent she might have been surprised by Jane’s reactions on the spot. [...]

[...] Georgia came in to say so-long for the day.

[...] Georgia made Jane a beautiful wool small-size covering or blanket. [...]

(At noon Georgia brought in a heaping plate of lasagna, salad and chicken wings, which I hardly ate in all the excitement. [...]

[...] Georgia got us some ice and we each had a glass of the wine the Gallaghers had left. [...]

[...] Early this morning Georgia had noticed what she took to be a swelling over the break and the ulcer on the right knee, and suspected drainage problems. When Fred came into 330 Georgia had told Mary Ann about it, and Mary Ann pointed it out to Fred. [...]

[...] Georgia brought me ice cream without me asking for it. [...] Jane told her this morning that she could borrow the copy of If We Live Again that we have in 330; Georgia wants it overnight for her daughter to read. [...]

(Georgia said she’d order me a cold ham plate, and Jane and I made arrangements that I’d get there at noon — earlier wasn’t necessary, she said. Jane wasn’t going to hydro this morning, and Georgia was starting to bathe her in bed.

[...] It was Georgia. [...]

[...] This morning, Georgia and another aide banged Jane’s right shin hard against the metal frame of the stretcher they put my wife on to take her to hydro. Jane screamed in pain, and Georgia cried. [...]

(Jane said Georgia Cecce was in to see her this morning, and to borrow another pack of cigarettes. [...]

[...] I waved to Georgia in 307 on my way out. [...]

(I didn’t see Georgia today. [...] So for the first time in weeks, we didn’t hear Karina cry out in Russian, or cry for Georgia in English.

[...] We asked her not to tell anyone, though I expect she’ll tell Georgia, her closest friend in the hospital. [...]

[...] This noon she sampled several different foods, to my surprise, some things dietary had sent up on her tray for me, at the request of Georgia. [...]

[...] Georgia had braided Jane’s hair this morning on both sides, since my wife didn’t go to hydro.

[...] I thought the session material might have bothered her, since from it, it seemed that the negative suggestions given by Georgia yesterday were still on her mind. [...]

[...] One of the nurses popped in on her way home to tell us that Georgia Cecce had just been admitted to the hospital — “Down the hall, in room 307.” We’ve known Georgia, Jane’s favorite nurse, ever since my wife entered the hospital in April, 1983.

[...] When the lunch tray came, along with the cold ham plate Georgia had ordered for me, I wasn’t hungry. [...]

[...] I went down the hall to 307 to see Georgia, but she was asleep. [...]

Georgia — disc, ulcers, surgery

[...] I found out differently when I turned her on her left side after the session: For it turned out that she’d been lying upon a roll of tape that someone—Georgia or Phyllis, probably—had left lying on the bed when they changed her dressings this morning. [...]