Hospital Life Is Not Always Physic and Fear

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 362, 24 May 1928, Page 11

Hospital Life Is Not Always Physic and Fear

Patient Tells of Many Tittle Social Amenities INSTITUTION FROM WITHIN 1 have been a patient in the Auckland, Hospital for over a couple of weeks. It is my second visit; and while impressions are fresh in the memory, a few of them jotted down at random may be of interest. TO most people, a hospital is a forbidding sort of place; and a public hospital especially so. That impression is scarcely justified. In fact, some of the patients here like the hospital so much that it is a hard job to shift them out when their time is up! I think the most noticeable feature of hospital life is the camaraderie that exists among the inmates. Patients are drawn from all classfes and creeds, but out of a community of suffering there seems to spring a fellow-feeling which makes a hospital ward a very democratic place indeed. To the nursing staff of the hospital, one cannot give too much praise. They have some exceedingly difficult cases to deal with at times, apart from which the routine of a hospital is very exacting, and in many respects anything but pleasant. One feels that one is echoing the sentiments of the vast majority of hospital patients * in saying: “Hats off to the nurses.” NO “MISTERS” There is one objectionable custom, however, which, is practised by medical and nursing staff alike. A patient, to them, is simply “Smith,” “Jones,” or “Robinson,” as the case may be. What this means is best realised by hearing a saucy young nurse curtly addressing a patient old enough to be her father as “Smith,” or whatever his name may be. It should be borne in mind that patients are expected to pay £ 3 3s a week, for which the small courtesy of a respectful address may be expected in return. A brief idea may be given of hospital routine. Those who are awake at 5 o’clock generally get a welcome cup of coffee from the night nurse before she goes off duty. Seeing that 8 o’clock is “lights out,” it is no great hardship to wake at 5 o’clock. Those who wish to sleep on for another hour or so may do so, although from 6 o’clock onwards the whole ward is generally starting to think about getting “cleaned up” for breakfast, which is at 8. Dinner is at mid-day, and tea at 5 o’clock. The food is plain, but good. The coffee and cocoa (made with milk) were generally excellent. A WELCOME CONCESSION Strictly speaking, smoking is not permitted in the wards. The unwisdom of trying to administer such an unpopular decree has, however, been long since recognised. A pipe or a cigarette to a man who has been used to these comforts is a big help to a patient. To rob him of them only sets up a condition of irritation which does not assist his recovery. One can’t help being impressed by the cheerfulness that exists in the wards. Pessimists are not welcomed, and nagging patients soon become highly unpopular. There is a wholesome contempt for the patient who “makes a song” about his complaint. THE OLD SOLDIERS The “old hands” in a ward form a sort of united body of their own. Woe betide the new-chum who rashly tides to place himself on a footing of equality with these old soldiers. They know the run of the ropes—he doesn’t —and there are a dozen and one little ways by which they can put a damper on his breezy familiarity. A favourite joke with a chirpy newcomer goes something like this: “Oh, operation, eh? Appendicitis, h’m? Dr. So-and-So, eh? Oh! He hasn’t killed anybody this week—yet.” One is in no position to criticise, either favourably or adversely, the medical staff. But it can at least be said that the most unpopular person in our ward was an otherwise likeable honorary medical practitioner who invariably arrived for his tri-weekly inspection during the dinner-hour. The result was for some a dinner half cold and for others an interruption of that important meal. THE WOMAN PRACTITIONER There are several women doctors in the Auckland Hospital at present. We had one in charge of our ward. Most of us liked her, too. But I must frankly confes to being prejudiced against the ladies when they take up the stethescope. Having admitted that prejudice, one is bound to confess that the women doctors in the Auckland Hospital seem to be most thorough and efficient. They are popular, too, I think, but whether they will ever succeed in overcoming that adult prejudice I have spoken about is another matter. Whoever chose the site on which the Auckland Hospital stands surely deserves the kindly thoughts of posterity. It is handy, central, and almost can be termed a part of the “lungs of the city,” the spacious Domain, which it adjoins. With its commanding site it enjoys a splendid outlook over Auckland and the harbour. The latter, especially, is an ever-changing source of interest to convalescents, especially in our case, as we had a nautical man among us who taught us to distinguish the different “house” marks and other characteristics of ingoing and outgoing shipping, and at nights could point out and name the different lights round the harbour and up the coast. QUESTION OF PRIVATE WARDS There has been a good deal of discussion about establishi |g a system of private wards for patients able, and willing, to pay extra for additional attention. I do not know what form this special attention would take, because every possible attention to the patient s comfort is given at present. But I think the establishment of private wards would make for an invidious position, which would not do our hospital system any good. That, however, is purely an opinion, and I have no doubt others hold different views. SICK-BAY.