Making Good on Private Duty | Page 2

it, nor do I, but he always used it, and I
have found it most accurate.
The recipes I have given are, I know, reliable, having all been tested
many times. Most of the articles of food every nurse has probably
prepared, but exact proportions have a dreadful way of slipping out of
one's memory. Whether it is a pint of milk or a quart that must be
mixed with two eggs for a custard might not seem much of a problem
to a housekeeper, but to a nurse who has perhaps not made a custard for
a year it might carry many difficulties.
I have tried to help in this most important part of a nurse's duty, and not
only as to the food served the patient, but the manner of serving it,
which last is truly to a sick person of as much importance as the food
itself. The few leaves I have left blank are for such additional recipes as
every nurse will gather as she goes from house to house. Any cook will
be glad to give some hints as to how she does this or that, and no nurse
should be too proud to learn from the cook, or anybody else. I shall
never forget the fat little Irish woman who taught me to make clam
broth, or how much pride she took in my first success. To ask the
family cook for advice is sometimes good policy; she is often so ready
to resent any extra work caused by the sickness or the nurse, it pays
well to conciliate her, by asking for her aid or counsel. To feel that she
can teach the "Trained Nurse" will often make a friend of the cook, and
this will make things pleasanter all around. It is with the hope that these
homely and perhaps somewhat old-fashioned hints may be of real
service, that this little book is sent forth to do what good it may to those
who are setting out on their professional careers. It is ever to the young
that we elders look, knowing, as Mrs. Isabel Hampton Robb has truly
said, "Work shall be lifted from our hands and carried on to loftier
ideals and higher aims by the strong young hands, hearts and brains of
future nurses." H. C. L.

Charleston, W. Va.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER
I.
THE NURSE AND HER PATIENT
II. THE NURSE AND THE DOCTOR
III. THE NURSE HERSELF
IV. THE NURSE AND HER PATIENT'S FAMILY, FRIENDS AND
SERVANTS
V. GENERAL REMARKS ON FOODS AND FEEDING
VI. THE NURSE AS RELATING TO HER TRAINING SCHOOL
AND TO HER FELLOW NURSES
VII. WHY DO NURSES COMPLAIN?
VIII. THE NURSE AS A TEACHER
IX. CONVALESCENCE
X. HOW SHALL A NURSE OCCUPY HER DAYS OF WAITING?
XI. SOME HINTS FOR THE OBSTETRICAL NURSE
XII. AS TO WASHING THE BABY
XIII. THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW

I
THE NURSE AND HER PATIENT
You may think it unnecessary for me to tell you any more about "the
patient." You will say, perhaps: "Have I had all this training, and must I
yet be told how to treat a patient?" I answer that you have been taught
how to watch the progress of disease, how to follow intelligently the
doctor's orders, also certain manual arts, your proficiency in which is
unquestionably most necessary, but there is much more comprehended
in the meaning of the term "a good nurse" than this. How often do we
hear stories of nurses who were good--but--who were skillful--but-- and
after the but comes a long list of such faults as do not show so much in
hospital life, where the routine and the many rules and the constant
supervision make them less likely to become prominent. "She bangs the
doors." "She breaks the fine china." "She wears heavy shoes," or "She
talks too much," or "She is pretty and spends too much time over her
front hair"--but why go on? You have all heard such tales--ad nauseam,
and if you are wise, you will set up a sign-post against every one of
these snares into which your sister nurses have fallen, and on this you
will print in large, clear letters: "Danger! Walking on this place
forbidden." So much by way of apology for treating you once more to a
lecture on "the patient."
The relation between nurse and patient should, from the first, be a more
than amicable one. You have come to bestow the priceless blessing of
unwearied, skillful care upon one who should thankfully receive it, and
believe me, if you do not go to your patient with a feeling of
thankfulness to God for allowing you to assume such a sacred trust as
the care of a human life, you are in no condition to undertake the