IN THE HOSPITAL.

Auckland Star, Volume LIV, Issue 47, 24 February 1923, Page 25

IN THE HOSPITAL.

ITS AGONY AND ITS FUN. (By A. G. SAIKSBURY.) Imagination plays a great part in the world of pain. I remember when, as a young and ttendeT-fhearted (reporter. I ■made my first visit to the Auckland Hospital in a routine hunt for accident news Having made jny fbusinees known, I eat doini in a vestibule to wait, .while officiate searched their Tecorde and thoir recollections for stories for "Star" readers. It was then that nvy undoin** began. " Close to where I was sitting, beyond one of the walls, there arose— faintiy at first and then with crescendo violence— the cry of a woman being as it seemed, throttled. Deeming it Hut the outburst natural to the Hi max of a tooth-pulling

rehearsal or some minor swift swrgical touch of similar infinitescence, I gripped 'the anne of my scat and listened lor the aftcr-vsileuce. Instead fcbe tumult expanded. The open diapason of a woman's terror frows mc to ice, with its rhythmical soprano ecrea-m each time the aggreesor, ac it seemed to mc, cut deeper. As the encounter persisted, my heart rose to my throat and stopped beating, and In a frenzied struggle against an imminent tendency to faint, T rusited into tho ocvurtyaTd for air and brisk exercise, and freedom to utter «„. fervent prayer of a rigWeouely indignant young man. It transpired afterwards that the noise that had so discommoded this young man was tie harmless music of an unconscious patient "under chloroform for come minor treatment.

Some years passed before I wae marked down for a.n operation, and fhose year*, with some -travel and an insist mto m hard realities of life, ], a ,i ;- m----parted a greater callousness. Tt wae "•ell that it was co. Indifleremv to the ajromrs of others, .though not counted amor,,? the virtue*, brings indifferent to Ohe pam s and perils of oneself, and iuet then it mas all wanted. The amphitheatre of my martyrdom was to be one O f , fc ] ]C smaller hospitals o f this fair Dominion.

To a. patient dolefully putting in an appearance for n. first offence, so to speak, the crucial moment is when he steps inside the hospital doorway and announces his business. Because at any moment prior to that he was, of course, quite free to turn tail and run away. Once inside, the courage essential to deeertion fades like a starched collar in a thunderstorm and he becomes a meek obedient pawn, a sort of little Jack the Giant Killer in the Giant's castle, but without his pluck. While you take a grip of yourself, a nurse relieves you of your leather grip. You pass in heroically the name and address of your next-of-kin in cas c you peg out and they want to collect your fees, and then you are introduced kindly but firmly to the order of the bath. This is a well-known ceremonial of hospital etiquette and inviolable; co that though you may have gone to name trouble to be well ablutioned before leaving home and tell the nurses co. they ar e too old and -wise to be softened by little fairy tales like that.

I «haJl Temember that bath when I *m in my coffin. To it I was ushered by one of the nurses—a pretty maid, no doubt, but I never lcnetr, for I lad not then the song froid necessary to

look in her face. As well as I ea.n remember now—it was a very confused half-hour—she presented mc with a nightgown and demanded in return ail my other dude. I cannot clearly remember exactly now the exchange was accomplished—whether before the bath, or after, or half way through. It was probably the latter, for there is in my head some vague memory of playing hide-and-seek throughout the entire bathing procese.

But this I do remember, as if it were yesterday. I had no sooner committed myself to the deep in that elongated bathtub than the door was pushed suddenly open and another creature, attired in the garb favoured by the members of th-e order of the sponge bowl, stalked boldly and coldly in and rapidly crossed to a cupboard. To do the damsel justice, I attest that sbe never looked at me —at least not after passing the rear view. But I lortked at her —looked murderously. Only the businesslike nonchalance of the lady saved the situation.

"Didn't know you were here." she •aid crisply and not too sweetly. "Want a towel in a hurry, and this is where wo keep them." And out she swished. By the powersj, Above ray pliinsol line I perspired like a park fountain.

To a nervous novice on the younjr side and of a bashful nature the ordeal of hospital bas terrors quite apart from the surgeon's knife. Perky enough in a ballroom perhaps, be shrinks from absolute dependence on the feminine gender—the dependence of a young baby. Yet be need have no fears. Tn every well ordered hospital it eeemethe nurses have a blunt and.hearty way of explaining to you the language of the wards; and, failing this, your next bed patient is a cyclopaedia of advice ready to hand. Nothing is more conspicuous and useful than that faithful article, 6crcens. Whenever privacy is wanted screens come to your aid. To mc there always seemed something ominous in the air when the doctor was screened in with a nurse and paraphernalia at my bed. But in actual fact screens were not necessarily synonymous. Nursing is not all nice work. The patient can best help the r.urso by a combination of sensible candour nnd unfailing delicacy.

It will almost appear as if we had forgotten the real business in hand— the operation. And that is the spirit the patient can best imitate. Forget it. When you enter the big institution, caet off your anxieties just as you cast off your duds in the bathroom. Enjoy the scenery. Ogle the nurses if you like—they're too busy to notice it; discuss the races with the man next door; learn all about your fellow patients—some of them (worse than you) are perhaps cracking jokes; but •the real trouble of yourself leave entirely to the nurses and the doctor. It's "their funeral" not yours. They won't let you die for their own reputation, and they won't hurt you, only sometimes a little bit. They ask nothing better from you tban that you will "mind your own business" and leave your ailment to them.

Of course the operating room is the most fearsome stage of all. They wheel you there in a bath chair though you could easily walk it. A nuree acquaintance had previously advised mc to ask the anaesthetist to "give mc plenty of air," and I clearly remember making the request. Perhaps everybody asks it. I don't know. Anyway the doctor whose business it was not to let the chloroform kill mc adjusted the mask and observed with a laugh that it was

"all air. -, I longed for ventilation and a few moments later notified the fact with a little plaintive groan, but hie hand steadied the mask—l imagine that at that stage he has had it thrown at him before now—and I remember no more except a sensation of entering numbly into a snowdrift. A few minutes later—it seemed —I slowly awoko in my bed, my beloved cotton gown tucked carefully around mc, a nurse sitting at the bedside inquiring if my head ached, and in my head a deep regret that I had still to undergo the operation. There followed the joyous realisation that the ordeal was really over, and T had now only to "bite on the bullet" through certain stages of the recovery, quit fearing or worrying, and face the world again shortly a Veil man. Some weeks later in the consulting room again of Dr. , I said: "Doctor you can put mo on your list of grnteful patio.nts.' .