Dear Diary, I didn’t realise that nursing was going to be so difficult right when I started my first week as a nurse on Ward 1. Charge Sister T is so hard on the patients and constantly tells me to ‘sit the men up in their beds’. “They’re here to get well, not loll around making the ward look untidy,” she told me today. Even the poor TB men in isolation on the veranda have to either sit beside their bed on a chair or sit up straight in bed, with the counterpane stripe in the middle of their legs.
I’m sure that old Mr B just gave up the fight to sit like that anymore and died just to spite her. I hadn’t seen a man die before and Sister made me ‘lay him out’. I wasn’t frightened and, because he was still fairly warm, the procedure wasn’t difficult, despite me having a little cry about halfway through because he’d been in Grandpa’s 3rd Light Horse Regiment during WWI at Gallipoli. Service men make great patients because they never, ever complain and Mr B was one of the best.
The height of the blinds through the ward is another of Sister T’s obsessions. They must be EXACTLY 2’6” from the bottom window sill – and she comes around and measures each of the 36 ward roller blinds. If I can’t get them perfectly level, she sends me to the pan room and I have to scrub and polish all of the stainless steel bedpans and urinary bottles! My poor, sore hands are so red and chapped, the junior sister on duty took pity on me and gave me some special cream to rub on them.
As this is primarily a skin diseases ward, Ward 1’s bath had discoloured due to all of the lotions and pastes used on the patients. Yesterday we had a black bath installed before I came on duty on afternoon shift (2- 10.30pm). Just after Sister rang the bell for evening visitors to leave, 2 male orderlies grabbed me and threw me into the bath, which they’d filled with warm sudsy water. I was soaked and all of the starch in my cap, apron and cuffs went limp and floppy! Sister J sent me off duty early, hoping I wouldn’t run into the Night Matron when I signed off. I hope Sister T doesn't find out as she'll lock me in the pan room! These old WWII ward sisters have forgotten what it was like to be a probationer!
When the dinner trolley arrives in the ward, Sister T is so short that she has a special wooden box to stand on to dish out the patient’s meals and the fellows in the solarium tease her about ‘disappearing into the stew’ and ‘not wanting old boiler for dinner!’ Woe betide any man who doesn’t eat everything on his plate, as she comes around the ward checking their trays. Both the patients and the student nurses get a rough ride with the notorious Sister T from Ward 1. Only another 6 weeks on this ward before the roster changes. Everyone says ‘if you can last 8 weeks roster rotation with Sister T on Ward 1, the rest of the wardswill be a breeze! I hope that they are right!!!! The patient's all know that she picks on the ward junior and are being really sweet to me.
!