She became each day more and more absorbed in her sufferings, and although she continued to see Jesus travelling from city to city during his public life, the utmost she ever said on the subject was, briefly to name in which direction he was going.  Once, she asked suddenly in a scarcely audible voice, ‘What day is it?’ When told that it was the 14th of January, she added:  ’Had I but a few days more, I should have related the entire life of our Saviour, but now it is no longer possible for me to do so.’  These words were the more incomprehensible as she did not appear to know even which year of the public life of Jesus she was then contemplating in spirit.  In 1820 she had related the history of our Saviour down to the Ascension, beginning at the 28th of July of the third year of the public life of Jesus, and had continued down to the 10th of January of the third year of his public life.  On the 27th of April 1823, in consequence of a journey made by the writer, an interruption of her narrative took place, and lasted down to the 21st of October.  She then took up the tread of her narrative where she had left it, and continued it to the last weeks of her life.  When she spoke of a few days being wanted her friend himself did not know how far her narrative went, not having had leisure to arrange what he had written.  After her death he became convinced that if she had been able to speak during the last fourteen days of her life, she would have brought it down to the 28th of July of the third year of the public life of our Lord, consequently to where she had taken it up in 1820.4

Her condition daily became more frightful.  She, who usually suffered in silence, uttered stifled groans, so awful was the anguish she endured.  On the 15th of January she said:  ’The Child Jesus brought me great sufferings at Christmas.  I was once more by his manger at Bethlehem.  He was burning with fever, and showed me his sufferings and those of his mother.  They were so poor that they had no food but a wretched piece of bread.  He bestowed still greatest sufferings upon me, and said to me:  “Thou art mine; thou art my spouse; suffer as I suffered, without asking the reason why.”  I do not know what my sufferings are to be, nor how long they will last.  I submit blindly to my martyrdom, whether for life or for death:  I only desire that the hidden designs of God may be accomplished in me.  On the other hand, I am calm, and I have consolations in my sufferings.  Even this morning I was very happy.  Blessed be the Name of God!’

Her sufferings continued, if possible, to increase.  Sitting up, and with her eyes closed, she fell from one side to another, while smothered groans escaped her lips.  If she laid down, she was in danger of being stifled; her breathing was hurried and oppressed, and all her nerves and muscles were shaken and trembled with anguish.  After violent retching, she suffered terrible pain in her bowels, so much so that it was feared gangrene must be forming there.  Her throat was parched and burning, her mouth swollen, her cheeks crimson with fever, her hands white as ivory.  The scars of the stigmas shone like silver beneath her distended skin.