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Back The German Wife
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Praise
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. A NOTE FROM KELLY
  58. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  59. The German Wife - Reader's Guide
  60. Discussion Questions
  61. Booklist

“The first time I went to a hospital was in 1946, not long after I left your place in El Paso. I couldn’t hold down a job. Couldn’t get out of bed. Couldn’t sleep or eat or stay calm in a thunderstorm. Something had to give, so I rang the VA. They said I’ve got combat fatigue and I just needed to rest. They put me in a hospital and gave me medication to make me sleep all day. I was calm while I was taking it, but coming off it—God, that was the pits. It was clear by then that they were just guessing how to help men like me. Hell, at one point they prescribed a course of ‘flower-picking therapy.’ And I was desperate, so I went with the nurse, and we picked flowers all day.”

“I can’t believe you never told me any of this.” I wasn’t just shocked. I was deeply hurt. Didn’t Henry trust me? Didn’t he understand how much I loved him—how I’d do anything to support him?

“I was ashamed, Lizzie. I still am,” he admitted, sighing heavily as he shook his head. “I just want to be normal again, but it’s like my brain is broken and nothing works to make it the way it was. In January I went up to that VA hospital in Nashville and I told them to do whatever they could to fix me. They said they were having good results from this new therapy. Insulin shock therapy, it’s called.”

“I’ve heard of electric shock therapy but…”

“It’s the same idea,” he muttered. “They use insulin to treat the diabetes too, but for veterans with combat fatigue, they give a huge dose of that medicine every day. Six days a week. Two months.” He glanced at me. “My only day off the treatment was Monday. That’s why, when I called or wrote you, it was a Monday.”

“What does it do?”

“It makes you feel real weird. Sweaty and sleepy and confused and so hungry, and sometimes really restless, like I couldn’t move my legs and arms enough to burn up the energy in my body. That would get worse and worse until—boom—I’d be so relieved when I knew I was about to go unconscious. I’d stay in that coma until they brought me out of it. They said it would jolt my brain back to the way it was.”

“And…has it? Was it worth it?”