“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I brought Jane back home from St. Joseph’s hospital in Elmira, New York at about 4:15 PM yesterday. Her doctor, Marsha Kardon, had had her admitted at supper time the day before [May 20, Thursday] because the middle finger of Jane’s left hand had begun to turn blue from the last joint to the nail.

(Jane first became aware that something was wrong with the finger at 2 PM or so Thursday, as we were finishing an interview with Peggy Gallagher about our experience in the 1972 flood in Elmira. The finger began to ache as she sat with it in her lap as we congregated at the kitchen table. At the same time it began to feel colder than the others, and Jane had pain in the palm of her hand and midway up her arm, on the outside and underneath—these points forming a rather straight pathway down to the finger, we noted. However, it was apparent at once that circulation to the finger was impaired. Peggy left, after saying a situation like that shouldn’t be allowed to go unchecked.

(Ever since she’d gotten up on Thursday, Jane had talked about increased muscular activity in many parts of her body, as though the body was trying to free itself in a beneficial way. She’d been quite uncomfortable at times, especially in the legs. Thus the finger business was a complete surprise to us. We noticed increased redness, also, around the nails of the other fingers on the left hand, but that situation had prevailed to varying degrees for a long time.

(Since I’d forgotten to bring Jane’s medications, I had to list them for the nurses. A nurse got Jane some toast, ice cream, coffee and pudding, since we’d missed supper. Jane didn’t eat much after all, though. She smoked, although it was prohibited. Visitors were supposed to leave by 9 PM, but I stayed until 10:30: I was groggy by that time.

(Early the next morning Jane had more blood taken for more tests. Dr K. saw her, and Dr. Wilwerth, who stayed only a few minutes and didn’t think a clot was involved. Dr. K. was fairly sure it was vasculitis, “which never gets better,” etc., from her point of view. Jane still felt the finger’s condition was the result of other muscular events in her body. When we’d described those to Dr. K. at the house her reaction had been “Do you mean cramps?” —meaning that she saw nothing positive or healing in all of that muscular activity, only something meaning more trouble. We’ve learned that Dr. K. is an extremely conscientious person, but our way of thinking is quite outside of hers. The nurses told us she’d called several times the night Jane was admitted, and that she had the reputation of being very caring and conscientious—qualities we can certainly admire and respect.

(When I arrived at Jane’s room at 1 PM on Friday, I was quite surprised to learn that she was going home that afternoon. Things shut down over the weekend, more or less, and no blood-test results were available yet. The nurse, Joyce, who was head of the treatment for decubiti at the hospital spent a lot of time going over the proper treatment with us, and gave us a quantity of sterile water, Silvadene, sponges, saline solution, etc. We could tell she was enamored of her work and very sincere in all of her suggestions. Our own ideas were that treatment was all the better the simpler it was.

(Dr K., being still concerned about Jane’s finger—which had improved somewhat, but was still markedly bluish in cast—decided to prescribe a drug to dilute the clotting ability of blood somewhat: Persantine, in tiny pill-like form, to be taken three times a day. Dr. K. said this treatment had to be balanced against the added risk of infection of Jane’s one open bedsore on her coccyx, for the Persantine reduced the body’s ability to fight infection to some degree. This at once set up barriers in our thinking, but especially in Jane’s. Jane had also learned that everyone at the hospital was against her smoking, and had been told that nicotine helped restrict the blood flow in the tiny capillaries. In other words, one would be better off not smoking. When Jane said that Dr. K had said her lungs were okay while she was at the Arnot, Dr K. defended that analysis by reminding Jane that she’d said her heart was good, but that through the stethoscope she’d heard various “wheezings and gurglings” in Jane’s lungs. Not that the lungs didn’t look okay via X-rays.

(As we waited now to see what would develop, Jane said several times that she felt really strange. She’s had added motion in her arms and elbows and wrists especially, and these are related to the finger blockage, she maintained. I doubted if we’d hear from Seth tonight. “I don’t know which this’ll be,” she said. “but it’s a therapeutic session....” Then she began speaking, or dictating, on her own:)

But at different time as it did so it would kink up in one corner and then another, and that that would cause a temporary impairment, such as happened in this one finger.

(Long pause at 9:10.) But that our fears lead us, so that at times we’re almost bound to interpret such events as life-threatening, and that’s why we called the doctor, of course. (Long pause.) Right now I still have the feeling of that force or motion, though, and emotionally I do identify with it. I feel supported in that manner. I feel Robby and the house and our entire existences supported in the same way—and this, I know, is part of the magical feeling that Seth talks about. Right now I’m certainly grateful for it.