Rehabilitation In Paradise

Press, Issue 31095, 25 June 1966, Page 12

Rehabilitation In Paradise

(Specially written for “The Press* 1 by TELFORD BRUCE) r THE Maoris called x the Hanmer Springs area Rauhea “the plain of shining grass.” The springs were frequently visited by the Maoris, and are referred to in the folk-lore of the South Island tribes. Here, warriors, tired by an overland trek, would rest, throw off their weariness in the soothing waters, and March on next day with renewed vigour.

The springs were discovered for the European settlers In 1859 by William Jones. A plaque erected by the Historic Places Trust in the Public Gardens is a memorial to Jones.

The fame of the springs soon spread, among the settlers and it was not long before it was a common sight to see buggy-loads of people descending the eastern pass through the hills, to ford the Waiau and carry back bottles full of the precious fluid. The therapeutic value of the waters taken internally are very open to doubt, but we are constantly told that faith can bring about miracles.

In 1878, John Fry built a shelter on the banks of the main pool, and, In 1883, the pool was enclosed, and a bathhouse with four baths erected.

The springs were then officially opened as a spa, and in that year more than 2000 people paid for admission. By modern standards this number would not be counted as spectacular, but when it is taken into consideration that the rough track from Christchurch was the only means of access, and buggies the only means of transport, the figures become a great deal

more significant. So popular did the springs become that In 1887 a ferry bridge was built across the Waiau, and a hotel was opened. Year by year amenities were improved, until a Government sanatorium was erected in 1897. The gardens surrounding the sanatorium were laid out by James Stewart who planted a large variety of trees and shrubs. Meanwhile on the surrounding hillsides forest plantations were established by prison labour and the original beauty of river, plain and mountains was enhanced by long avenues of oaks, flanked by Douglas pines and firs, and in the gardens sycamores, chestnuts, and prunus flourished to form a flaming autumnal foreground to the the majestic hills.

The sanatorium was destroyed by fire in 1914, but in that same year Duncan Rutherford lent his property, “The Lodge,” to the Government as a convalescent home for servicemen. Two years later the Queen Mary Hospital was opened for sick and wounded soldiers and staffed by members of the Army Medical Corps.

Buildings

The original buildings of the hospital are still in use as a library, an occupational therapy block and administrative offices. A separate block for women, the Chisholm block, in acknowledgment of the work of Dr P. Chisholm who from 1921 to 1942 did much to develop the hospital, was opened in 1927, and in 1942 a new men’s block, known as Rutherford block in commemoration of Duncan Rutherford, was built. In that same year a physiotherapy block and a modern bath-house were erected.

The main purpose of the modern hospital is for the treatment of functional nervous disorders, a term which

includes the widest range of emotional upsets from alcoholism to plain nervous breakdowns.

The average number of patients at any one time is approximately 85, who stay for an average period of 10 weeks.

95% Cured

Within that period can be seen the most dramatic presentation of “before and after.” New patients arrive with all the signs of their inner nervous tensions so plainly written on their faces that it is almost unbelievable that they could ever solve their problems. For about a week or so they wander about in the fashion of lost souls; but after that initial period, thanks to the quiet direction of psychiatrists and nursing sisters, the worry lines on the forehead smooth away; people who just could not trust themselves in the presence of others begin to form associations with other congenial souls, and nervous tics and twitches slowly begin to disappear.

By the end of the period of treatment almost 95 per cent of the patients are able to go back to the outside world, better equipped from the point of view of emotional stability than they have ever been before.

The basis of the therapy at Queen Mary is basically very simple. The doctors make out a case history of the individual patients under their charge, based on observation, and information supplied by the patients themselves, as well as any other relevant facts that have been made available by people who have had a close association with them.

Sedative drugs are prescribed according to the individual patients’ needs, and a close watch is kept on reactions by the nursing staff. There is a lightly regimented routine throughout

the day, commencing with early morning tea in the lounge at 6 a.m. After about half an hour of relaxation, the patients shave, shower, make their beds and sweep and dust their rooms. According to a roster, four of the patients sweep and dust the corridors. Breakfast at 7.45 finds most of the patients with a fairly healthy appetite. There is a break after breakfast until 8.45 a.m., when the occupational therapist allots various jobs for the morning, such as cutting up wood, sweeping leaves or any other occupation which is needed to keep the grounds neat and ;tidy. Morning tea is served at 10 o'clock, after which there is a half-hour of physical training before organised sport, cricket, golf or indoor basketball. There are compulsory rest periods from noon till 12.30 and after lunch from 1 p.m. to 2 p.m. After afternoon tea, the patients are left to their own devices until 5 o’clock. There are ample sports facilities, baths, tennis courts, bowling green and the golf course. Golf on the Hanmer course is a sheer delight The fairways are lined by trees against a back-drop of hills, and the moment one steps on the course a sense of wellbeing and peace seems to descend like a mantle. I should hate to assess the number of mental gremlins which have been blown away on these rolling fairways—they must be numbered in thousands. After dinner there is a time of real therapy. Patients sitting around a blazing fire discuss almost every conceivable topic. It is here, by the dropping of a chance remark, or a deflnite theme of conversation that a patient who has hugged a fear to himself, finds he is not alone, but is surrounded by a host of fellow-sufferers, so that his fear loses the greater part of its potency.