Calgary General Hospital - In Cap and Uniform Yearbook (Calgary, Alberta Canada)

Page 37 text:

The Pharmacy The Pharmacy is our second stop. Here, under the careful supervision of Miss McCaffere, our druggists fill bottles, all sizes and shapes, with aro¬ matic solutions, and boxes with pills, some of which are too big to swallow and some too small, getting lost in that hollow in our teeth. Whether it’s a pill or a solution or an injection, it must come from here. May we take this opportunity to express our sincere thanks for your help and patience during our three years of training. The Laboratory The Laboratory is next on our list. If we step inside we will see tubes, basins and specimens of all kinds. Here is where they bring the blood for counts, cultures, etc. When we are looking for Dr. Mc- Latchie we can usually find her here in her office. To you, Dr. McLatchie, and to your staff of Technicians, we would like to say Thanks for Everything”.

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TRIBUTE A building fair, set on a hill That overlooks a river’s flow. Haven of rest for all the ill Of the busy city—far below. There ceaselessly, the nurses toil To make man’s life a happier span. Sometimes with praise, but oft reproach Though putting forth the best they can. Can man not search his heart, and find The beauty of their selfless task? —And having found, ne’er more be blind To questions that he need not ask. In words of gold, for all to see, Despising not the sufferer’s call. Devotion—Faith—Fidelity, The Nurse exemplifies them all!

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Ward Nine Aside from the emergencies rushed to this ward and the daily stream of patients, going to and from the Operating Room or re¬ gaining consciousness from the various Anaesthetics we think this poem written by a patient, expresses our life on Ward Nine. It’s just one round of bed pans, The whole long day it seems, You wash your face a million times. Till it is bright and clean. And when they bring your breakfast, And forgotten half the things. ' Tis the nurse, who hears you holler, And knows just what to bring. Their faces wreathed in smiles, As they listen to your groans, And 1 bet that all the while. They would really like to moan. And yet their hands are softest, When you are sick, indeed, They say sweet words of kindness, And fill your every need. They stick your skin with needles, And stuff you full of pills, Until you stop and wonder Why you didn’t write your will. Your doctor ' s here”, your nurse does say, And in he walks so quietly, Stick out your tongue,’’ he says to me, You’ll have to say for another day. If kill or cure their motto, It works just fine, you see It ' s not our feelings they’re hurting, And they wouldn’t like it to be. We holler if they’re early, Also if they’re late. It seems like in the hospital It’s just a matter of fate.