IN HOSPITAL

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 50, 22 November 1917, Page 6

IN HOSPITAL

A PATIENT AND HIS EXPERIENCES

[Tho accompanying ertlclo was dictated by a patient recovering from an eyo operation, and is published without revision. Its purpote is to remove some miflapprelfinsion and perhaps fears of those who miy find themselves confronted with the necessity for facing Burgiail treatment and spending somo time in hospital away from their homes.] The Specialist spoke: "You will have to hnvo nil operation, and will havo to go into a privato hospital." "How long shall I have to bo there?" I said. "Well, certainly not loss than a fortnight, very likely three weeks, that is, of course, without «ny complications." Having made arrangements for the hospital I left him, and went into the street. Slosly, darkness descended on my spirit; Egyptian darkness; a darkness that might bo felt. A fortnight at tho best, more probably three weeks: Fourteen days of twenty-four hours each: fourteen nights. I pictured tho long, slow course of the lime; unablo to read, deprived of a smoke, nobody to speak to, nothing to do but to hear some distant clock chime the hours.

I thought of tile hospital as a place somewhat like unto a prison—clean, while, with a cold, clean wniteness that chills; a hushed brooding over-every-thing; voices low pitched; austerity—tempered with kindness, it is true—but still austerity; rigid rules; gloom; and, above all. dullness.

Above the entrance to Dante's hell was inscribed, "All hope al),ind!>n ye who enter here." Above the hospital should be written, "All fear abandon ve who enter here." Fear of pain: Fear of chloroform; fear of austerity, rigid rules, gloom, and dullness. When I went to the hospital at night Hip door was open, and I saw two attendants with .white head-dresses, standing in a hall with flowers and a pleasant atmosphere of colour. One of the two asked nip my name, and then said, "Oh, yes. Nurse will show you your room. If you go out, you can come in at any time up to 10 o'clock, and if the door is shut after that ring, and you will be let in."

The reception was businesslike, and I felt that in the brief moments the two women were engaged using the marvellous power that some women possess of forming an. almost instantaneous judgment. I felt I was being weighed in the balance, and hoped that I was not found wanting.

The second nurse then led me out of the hall info a dimly-lighted corridor, running right and loft. A slight sense of disfnfeclant, and of intense quiet came to me, and I felt a recurrence of my fears. Nurse led nie along the corridor, pointed out a half-open door, through which I caught a glimpse of n bath, and telling me that that was my bathroom led me to my room. Tho eight of it gave me a pleasant shock. It was so surprisingly like a particularly neat, clean, but sparely furnished bedroom. It had one very big window, a large mirror on the table, with a drawer, a standing wnrdrobe with cretonne curtain in front, a bis folding screen, and a comfortable-looking bed. A fixed-in washstand with hot and coldwater taps was in one corner, and behind the screen the nurse showed me the radiator on which were the towels. She showed me tho arrangement for summoning assistance, and said, with a note of sincerity in her voice, "Please be sure to use it if you want anything at all at night." She then gavo me the timotnble of the hospital—Morning tea, at G: breakfast at 8; soup at 11; dinner at 1; afternoon tea at 3; tea at 6; and 6upper at 8. I began to think that there might be a little bit of a break occasionally in tho dull stretch of the day. 1 turned iuto bed later on, and once asleep I knew no more till the door opened, without a knock, and a nurse entered with tho morning tea, and a cheery greeting. I wondered whether I had answered to a knock in my sleep, but later I found that a knosk was never given. . After 7 another nurse came in and asked me what I would like for breakfast. Later a nurse came in and told me that my bath was ready. At 8 came breakfast, and at half-past 8 a fresh nurse appeared, who shook something at me, and asked me what it was. I gave up the riddle, and then 6he came nearer and handed me a teTirmometer with instructions to put it under my tongue. I asked what on earth it was for, as I was not going to have an operation for a day or two, but she told mo that it was the rule, and her tone convinced me that when once that was said no discussion was permitted. I iuserted the thermometer under my tongue as directed. I was told to hold out ray linnd. My pulse was felt, and I made some remark, but this was received with a shake of the head and a frown, and the nurse's eyes 1 then saw were fastened on her watch. After a short space she told me that I must not speak while she was taking my pulse, and I | mumbled as best I could whilo sucking tho thermometer, that I would be pood and never do it again. She then took the thermometer, examined it, and made notes in a book. The 6ame performance was gone through later on in tho day, with the addition of a question as to the | waste products of the body.

At intervals from 8 to 9 a nurse was in the room, apparently polishing nlir.ost every single tiling in it, and iemoving the least particle of dust. At 11 came the soup, and. at half-past 12 a nurse, camo in to ask what I would liko ou.t of the dinner list. At 3 the tea came in. and at i a nurse arrived again to ask what I would like for tea. At 8 ciime tea, and an inquiry what I would like for supper, After supper at 8, about 9 the nurse came in to straighten everything up for the night, with a final inquiry if there was anything I wanted. Bv the end of my first day I had grasped tlio fact that the whole of my prcennceivod ideas of a urivate hospital were about as far removed from the reality as they could possibly have been. From enrlv morning thero had been a sound of life all the time: Steps aiong the corridor, the voices of nurses visiting the patients, and every now and again a laugh as two nurses met. At half-pact 7 more continuous laughter was to be heard, a murmur faintly caught of a voice, and then ripples and trills of laughter, and this went on for half an hour. At 9 o'clock this started again, stopping at half-past 9. Making inquiries, I found that the nurse's dining room was the place from which all this laughter had proceeded, and I found that, brightness and laughter ran through the whole day. Not only outside but in the patient's room. Each different nurse who .came in had something kind and cheerful and bright, to say, and their visits were made as if not alone to n inister to the phvsical wants of the natient, but to his spiritual needs as well. And now as to these fears of vhieh T have spoken. As I have said, they should be cast out.

The fear of liain. Modern doctors recognise that pain saps the vitality, their frrcntest asset in dnnfterous cnsc. and they will 110 more allow the patient to lose any portion thereof throni;li preventable pain, than they would take it away from him as in the old days by bWillß. , , ■P:\rn is an enemy that tho doctor fights relentlessly. ~. . T l '" fear of chloroform: tins is a TieriTage of tho days gone hy, when that fear was well grounded. V chloroform was discovered the doctoi using: it was like the captain of a ship, compelled to steer it through uncbart u waters, ignorant of all dangers of the coarse. Now that course has been surveyed, and charted to the minutest detail. Chloroform is never used except in cases where there is serious lung trouble. Ether that carries no risk is in other cases employed, unless a local anaesthetic, such as cocaine, will be sufficient. , ~ , [t. "inv lie said that at the present day the' risk of the anaesthetic is less than tho risk incurred by anyone who lakes a twenty-mile motor drive, lhis is a fact that cannot be too strong}) Fraught to people's knowledge, as in many cases this fear and fear of the whole hospital has kept back patients from the operating table, with the result that they have had to pay the penalty of a severe operation with dangerous complications, or possibly nave delayed so long that the mischief is irremediable. 'Vusterity, gloom, and dullness simply do* not exist, and I donbt if a micro6copic examination could find even the rudimentary germ of these unpleasant enemies of the patient's, for they too

like pain aro recognised as such by j. (Ector. Lastly, as to tho rigid rules, fic# aro rigid. Ono law is like that of , Aledes and Persians, as it cannot ba . tcred, nuniely, tho doctor's orders. other rules aro elastic in a greater r less degree. Tho wliolo body of run are formed for the comfort, health, ny\ welfare of the patient; but it is recj..' nisud that each patient has tiudmdrj. tastes, dislikes, 4ud peculiarities, ;,<1 the' rules in many respects can be c<j). pared only to ft pwlsctly conatruci d, water mattress that will support ant bear up tho patient with firmness an£ yet with a firmness that: yields to everj movement. , Deep down as tho foundation of _tn<|i whole of tho hospital life is i° Tl s?';i kindness, and not only is it tho founds'., tion, but it works its way and perms-.' ates every narticlo of tho life. ■ , On advertisements of hotels and boarding'nouses we occasionally seo tho claim set forth that the particular hostelry is "a Home from a home/' This is as true a description of tho hospital, but with the added advantage ot 6cienco both in tho knowledge of thp doctor and of tlie staff, and in all the appliances and surroundings. Also too there is IV firmness which Is very Sifflcult to obtains when illness is in. tho house. The wholei hospital life being constructed to meet; illness. There is no disturbance of its umotfTl and well-ordered flow as in th® euso C? a privato household.

I have mentioned that nurses enter without knocking, and also that ques'tlons are put to the patient, and these.' two points lead on to a subject of great: importance, and that is frankness, ana, the absence _of all false modesty. Any doctor will tell you that in his. private practice he has found the farroacuTng ills that result from this false modesty in his outside praotice. When a patient consults a doctor he owes it' to the doctor and to himself to be absolutely frank. Any reservation may have results of tho most distressing nature, and this (luty of frankntes is even mora to be felt when a patient enters a hospital. If he has kept anything back from the doctor either in liis past history or Ms present condition, he must repairthat omission Wore it is too late. In the hospital ho must recollect that ho is brought faco to face with the eternal verities of life. He should remember that hie body is the most marvellous work of nature. From the timet when -life's faint stirrings were felt under the slimy ooze of tho sea, onwards, through countless aeons, nature the gieat. worker lies evolved it. To bo ashamed of any part or of any manifestation of any part of thai work is blasphemy against the Great Architect whose design nature followed. The interdependence of the organs and separate parts of tho body are bo marvellous that the significance of any symptom of any part in connection with the particular disease or injury can bo appreciated by the expert alone. Tell the doctor, therefore, any unusual sensation, however little you may think it may affect your case. Many years ago my death was. announced "as was hat of the late Mark Twain. Ho wrote to the paper denying the truth of the report, and stated that it was grossly exaggerated. The same was true in my case. Ido not. therefore, speak from absolute personal knowledge when I say if a patient enters the hospital, and a long struggle ensues between the forces of life and death, and if that struggle fought by the hospital staff with endless patience, and with all the resources of science, is unsuccessful, and the Angel Azrael is the victor, I say with that faith which is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen, that the hands which welcome him on the further shore will not be moro tender, more gentle, more loving, than those which tended, comforted, supported, and strengthened him, till at the last like a tired child he fell into that sleep which knows no wakiEg hore. .