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

Page 45 text:

Second West We think this medical floor is best described by this poem, sent to us by a former patient . . . A TRIBUTE (To My Nurses in the Calgary General Hospital) My Doctor came to visit me And pulled a solemn face! Said he: “For you the Hospital Is just the only place! I knew ’twas useless to protest So not a word I said; And ere I knew just what was what Why,—there I was—in bed! A dozen pretty nurses came And fluttered round about— They each had different treatments” Which they wanted to try out. They stuck me full of needles — They filled me up with pills— They X-Rayed me until they found The cause of all my ills. They stole my blood and made with it A microscopic slide— Then they planked me on a trolley And “took me for a ride . They waked me for new “treatments” Each time my eyelids closed— ’Twas always time for “temperatures” If ere, by chance, I dozed! They starved me to a skeleton— They fed me till I burst— Of all the various “treatments” I don’t know which was worst. And yet, withal, they were so kind That this to me is plain— If I, once more, am taken sick, I’ll come right back again!!!

Page 44 text:

Maternity Nursery After donning cap, mask and gown and a five minute scrub up at the nursery sink, we fill our day with weighing, changing, bathing, changing, feeding and changing babies. And that doesn’t sound bad, but when Junior Jones loses half an ounce and Sunny Tufts won’t take her ba-ba and Mr. Baby Brown is a problem— you really feel you’ve accomplished things no end when these little difficulties are settled. Then you have the honor of caring for the premature babies. Nursie beware, as two lbs. Butch or three and a half lb. Betty Lou are M : ss J’s pride and joy and please, Dear Lord, make them gain. The nursery nights are one of the never-to-be-forgotten, you know the kind. How, after a night’s work when you think Ah! Soon I can rest”, the case room presents you with 4, 5 or 6 little bundles of joy. Why baby! You really are nice, now that I see you when your face is clean, says I to myself at 7 a.m. Thus from day to night it goes. Every day you lose your heart to some six or seven mothers who take your babies, their pride and joy out into the wide, wide world—their homes. Often heard, sung by the Nurse or Premies, To tune of The Best to You”. Your brecht to you May my dreams come true Gain an ounce or two When the day is through And through the night Keep your weight all right In the early morn Please take all your form And then one day When your weight ' s O.K. Maw (Miss Jamesonj will send you home Never more to roam But remember this Through our toil and bliss WE gave this— Your brecht to you.

Page 46 text:

Admitting Office The first to see them enter— The last to see them go— They’re the people who admit them And discharge them you know. take this opportunity to say that— Although at times we grumble— And make a lot of fuss We really are grateful For all you do for us And when you phone us to report “The duplicates’’ we’ve forgotten to bring We may be hurried but we are sorry We necessitated the ring And when we bring a patient down We—just take him for the ride— It’s you who figure out the bill From columns broad and wide And maybe some day in the future When our span on earth is done And we approach the “Pearly Gates” We’ll find that you’re the ones St. Peter has chosen to calculate If he should or should not admit one.