A few years ago while under a sense of darkness and despair caused by ill health and an unhappy home, Science and Health was loaned me with a request that I should read it.
At that time my daughter was given up by materia medica to die of lingering consumption, supposed to have been inherited. My own condition seemed even more alarming as insanity was being manifested, and rather than go to an insane asylum, it seemed to me the only thing to do was to commit suicide. Heart trouble, kidney complaint, neuralgia, chronic constipation, and continual headaches caused from female trouble were some of the many ailments I had to contend with. My doctor tried to persuade me to undergo an operation as a means of relief, but I had submitted to a severe operation ten years previous, and found only additional suffering as a result, so I would not consent.
Few can imagine my despair when I was told that large doses of morphine seemed to be the only drug that would deaden the pain. What should I do? I read in the Bible. "God is not the God of the dead, but of the living." Where was God? I had searched for years but failed to find Him. I knew nothing of Christian Science only what the newspapers said unfavorably about it, but "man's extremity is God's opportunity."
