Making Good on Private Duty | Page 3

sympathy I do not mean sentimentalism. The two emotions are as far asunder as the poles. Sympathy, then, you must have, and if you do not intuitively feel it, let me tell you what to do to rouse your dormant feelings. Try earnestly to put yourself in the patient's place. Has she had an operation of some kind, and you have all night been trying to keep her quiet on her back, and she has been begging you to let her turn "never so little?" When you go to lie down, and have, perhaps, a backache, and feel tired, instead of settling yourself in the most comfortable position you can, lie straight and square on your back and say to yourself, "Now I can't turn over," and imagine you have by your side a nurse who will not let you turn. You will find out in the course of an hour that your patient has had a good excuse for all her complaints, and the next night you will know just where to slip your hand in the hollow of the back or under the shoulders to give a little ease. The patient will profit by such exercise on the part of the nurse, and your sympathies will be quickened. Never forget that _the patient is sick, and you are not_. You can, you must be firm in what you know is for your patient's best good, but you must never be dictatorial or argumentative. It is hard, I know, to bear with all the foolish, unreasonable whims of sick people, but if you are true nurses you will do it. There are, however, several consoling thoughts which have always helped me, and which I will tell you. In the first place, always remember, as I said before, that the sick one is sick, and on that ground you can overlook much. In the second place, remember that it will not last long. A few days or weeks will surely bring a change. She cannot, in the nature of disease, remain for long in the very trying stage, unless indeed she have some kind of mania, and of course if that is the case, you need pay no attention to her whims. If she says white is black, let it go. It does not make it so to have her say so, but if you argue the point, and bring all your wisdom to bear upon your demonstration, you may bring her pulse and temperature up to a point that will do her a real injury.
Tact, as you know, is worth everything to you, and by it you will win your way to all hearts. Try then to feel as the patient does, and you will know by instinct how to treat her, and will, perhaps, be often rewarded for some little deed by the pleased surprise with which she will say, "How did you know I wanted it done?" You need not tell her how you knew, but you may be sure she will appreciate you all the more for your prescient thoughtfulness. Her pillows may be flat and hot, her hair uncomfortable, her under sheet wrinkled or untucked from the bottom; all these and a dozen more little things can be arranged so easily, and they conduce so much to the sick one's comfort when done, that you must ever have them in your mind.
Be most careful also as to your patient's belongings, her top drawer, her various boxes, and her linen closet. You must keep all these things just as she did. You may think it a very foolish thing for her to have three piles of handkerchiefs, each of a different age, or degree of fineness, but if that is her way, she will be better satisfied if she knows you will not lay a fine handkerchief over a more common one. So keep them as carefully divided as if they were the two parts of a Seidlitz powder.
Hang her clothes up carefully whenever she goes back to bed, be it once or oftener during the day. Separate them and hang them up; don't pick all up together and put them over a chair. Put her shoes away, lay the stockings on a shelf or put them inside the shoes. Fold her pretty shawl or kimono and lay it in a drawer. Let her see that you know a good thing, and know how to take care of it.
Put away fine china or glass and bric-a-brac, if she is very ill, and you need space for necessary glasses or other articles. It will be a pleasant way of beguiling the tedium of some long day in her convalescence to bring forth and arrange them in their accustomed places. Be careful of books, table-covers, and all the