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Dear Ann Landers,
am a patient in a mental hospital. I know I am ill, just as a person who has pneumonia is ill. I know, too, that my ill-ness is temporary and that I am getting better. One day, I will be a use-ful citizen and perhaps even contribute something to society. I am writing this letter in the hope that people who have friends and relatives in mental institutions will have a better understanding of the mental patient and his needs. More than anything, we need to know we are not forgotten. On the Fourth of July, we were served a lovely chicken dinner, and there was a movie afterward. I would gladly have exchanged the dinner and the movie for just one visitor. I have a daughter, grandchildren, brothers, sisters and cousins, but no one dropped by to say hello. I'm not the only person who waits week after week for a visitor. It's as if our people are ashamed of us and don't wish to remember we are here. We patients discuss this often-never in a self-pitying way, only with a feeling of sadness because others do not understand. The staff here is wonderful. What grand people they are-but we are so many, and they are so few. They do what they can, but nothing builds morale like a visit with family or friends. These links with the outside, more than anything else, speed a patient's recovery. Please print this letter. It is too long, I know, but perhaps you can trim it so it will fit in the paper. You could help so many by passing this word. God bless you. -A Patient Patient

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Dear Readers,
, it reminded me of an embarrassing incident that happened 40 years ago. My husband and I were newlyweds, getting ready to attend a Halloween party given by friends. I came home from work and asked my hubby to answer the door for the trick-or-treaters while I took a bath. As I was running the water, I thought, 'Wouldn't it be fun to play a trick on him?' So, I put on my flapper raccoon coat and a mask, and without a stitch on under the coat, I sneaked around the house and rang the doorbell. When my husband answered, I threw open my coat and shouted, 'Trick or treat!' He was so stunned, he backed up, fell down the steps of the sunken living room, hit his head and knocked himself unconscious. I called 911 and had to explain what happened to the police and paramedics. My husband was taken to the hospital, where they said he had suffered a concussion. We never made it to the Halloween party, and of course, I had to let my friends know why. They thought it was hilarious. My husband and I will celebrate our 40th anniversary soon. I still love Halloween, but have refrained from pulling any more startling surprises. Life is so much easier if you have a sense of humor. -- Toni in Long Island, N.Y.

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"Expect trouble as an inevitable part of life and repeat to yourself, the most comforting words of all; this, too, shall pass."
-Ann Landers