Word: painful
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...first a cancer, except one at the tip of the tongue, causes no pain. But as the growth increases and eats into sensory nerves, the pain becomes indescribably horrible. Morphine has long been the doctor's analgesiac. Dr. Henry Swartley Ruth, Philadelphia homeopath, who attended the Congress of Anesthetists in Manhattan last week, recommended alcohol as a pain killer. He traces the sensory nerve leading from the site of the cancer and injects about a cubic centimeter of 45% alcohol near the point where the nerve trunk joins the spinal cord. The alcohol deadens the pain completely, does...
...made him breathe a mixture of carbon dioxide and oxygen. Dr. Carl William Hoefflich of Houston, president of the Associated Anesthetists of the U. S. and Canada, tried the Meyer treatment on his mother, 82. Reported he last week: "The growth has greatly decreased in size and the pain is gone. In fact, my mother has been doing much of her own housework...
Because non-Moslems are barred from Mecca during the pilgrim season upon pain of death; because Ibn Saud and his personal followers are so strict that they might be called Moslem Fundamentalists; and because few Christians care a whoop what happens in Arabia, news from the Land of Saud is always scarce, usually untrustworthy. Biggest Christian news of recent years was the 58-day trek of English Explorer Bertram Thomas across 900 miles of arid waste, famed for its weirdly noisy ''singing sands'' and called the Riilxi-aI-Khali or "Abode of Loneliness" (TIME. March...
...Kansas City Dan McLaughlin, 75, weary wayfarer from Texas, knocked at the door of the General Hospital, said he had a pain in his stomach. Doctors found he needed food, sent him on to the Helping Hand. There he cut his wrists and throat, was carried back to the hospital. Said he to the doctors: "You didn't want me yesterday. Now maybe you'll take me this way. I've no job, no folks? nobody left. Why should I care...
Next afternoon at 3 p.m. while Fascists yelled their war cries in front of the Reichstag, Grandmother Zetkin was carried in the back door on a stretcher, lifted to her feet. Leaning on a heavy cane, she advanced, flanked on either side by a big-hipped Amazonian Red. Pain and fatigue made perspiration pour down the sunken cheeks of Clara Zetkin but her old eyes flashed. "I shall do my duty in strict accordance with the rules of antiquated parliamentarianism," she gasped, "because it is my duty to the German proletariat...