Massachusetts General Hospital School of Nursing - Yearbook (Boston, MA)

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being come into this world and to life was a truly remarkable sight. The nights on Richardson House and the good (?) fudge we made will never be forgotten —nor will the numerous beach parties in which we indulged!! We did manage to get into difficulties — strange visitors to our win- dows and sleeping in laundries — ooh that hard table!! Our truly great farewell party was the climax. I don’t know how we all managed to fit in that room, but when a certain supervisor walked in, we found so many places to hide. That was the fastest clean-up job a room ever re- ceived. Vacation again, and we returned rested and ready to face new problems and tasks. And so the days passed. Winter came with its billowy snow and we spent another Christmas in training. The Glee Club, so improved this year, caroled at North Sta- tion and on the radio. In January, Mc- Lean claimed a part of us. A vacation they said — but we remember all those floors we mopped and clothes we sorted and the continued refrain, “I want my tennis racquet!” Two big events in February- first our celebration of our second anniversary. Will we ever learn? The evening started and ended with a bang- -the trip home was something to remember. The second important event was that of receiving our senior bands— at last we were on the last lap of our journey in nursing and whether we admitted it or not, it helped our pres- tige to know we were seniors and to have those bands on our caps. At this time, plans for our senior activ- ities were started. Mrs. Crowley and Miss Raftery were chosen as advisors and with their help we were able to proceed. The main problem — that of raising funds for the yearbook loomed in the foreground. A gay strawberry festival on Bulfinch lawn in June was a sparkling success. In July our senior banquet was held at Hotel Sheraton. The Committee did a wonderful piece of work. In August, vaca- tions again — a short one this time for those who returned to M.G.H. only to leave for the Indians and the veterans. September arrived and several of the class found themselves to be student assistants — a job they never dreamed possible for themselves. “It’s here!” we said to one another as January came to a close. Rather hard to believe that the three years had already passed. Looking back, it seemed only yes- terday that we had eagerly blundered our ways to 92 Charles Street. And now, as graduate nurses, we separate, each to go her own way. We will never forget our three years at M.G.H., nor will we forget the many friends we made, the good times we had, the knowledge we gained. We leave with some regrets but we could never wish to prolong our three years or relive them for we are already looking forward to the future — to new fields — and new experiences! [23 ]

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really worried through that “final prac- tical.” Finally, the day came — June io — and we convened in Walcott house for the presentation of our caps by Miss Johnson. What a proud moment for each of us. How could we help but be “cap con- scious?” We looked forward eagerly to the next stepping stone — that of receiving our checks. But, O “alas,” little did we know that we were to herald a new era — that of “bibs ’n blues.” ’Twas the war, we were told and only a temporary arrange- ment — for two years that is. This did not hinder our work, but it did require fre- quent explanations as to our “status quo.” September rallied around and the first third of our class piously packed bags and belongings for their first vacation -so greatly needed by this time. This month also heralded the arrival of the new probies — the second section to enter after us. We really felt up in the world now with two groups behind us. And so the days passed we had now started specialties — some in the O.R., others in O.P.D., neu- rological and urological floors. How green we felt our first day in the O.R. — everyone scurrying to and fro in white gowns, masks and headgears. Our greenness was doubled, no tripled, on our first case. Remember how you gingerly held out the wrong glove to the surgeon. Contamina- tion?? Heavens, no — as one absent- minded nurse calmly taps her mouth to stifle a yawn — whilst holding a retractor! The arrival of December, plans for the Christmas formal, under our sponsorship, were started. Changing the traditional scene from Moseley to Walcott house was advocated and on the chosen night we joy- ously danced amid Christmas greens and mistletoe to the music of Ken Reeves. On February 6, to celebrate our first year in training, the “gang” visited “Blin- strub’s Village” — the evening was well spent— and spent, I mean. In March, half of the class started pediatrics, a new kind of nursing for most of us and what fun it was to bathe and feed the small babies as well as play with the older children. In the early part of June, we sponsored our second formal. This time in the Mose- ley Rotunda. Balloons of all colors deco- rated the ceiling and bridal wreath ob- tained by various persons from “ye es- planade” adorned trellises. The Vander- bilt Boys supplied the music — yes, it was music — and even indulged in a bit of singing. The dance was a huge success, but someone should have told the bugs to behave. B.L.I....T0 just anyone, those letters mean nothing, but to nurses of the M.G.H. and especially the Class of ’48, it meant three months of laborious work of head- gears and masks, block relief and nights. The work was new and different. We learned to bathe 30 babies in a few hours and to care for and teach the mothers. Delivery floor — one of the most thrilling places a nurse can work, not that we actually did so much, but watching a new [ 22 ]

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Dear Diary July 5, 10343 — Our most memorable day; we arrived at M.G.H. to begin our train- ing. Registration, tea with Miss Johnson and her associates . . . tour of hospital . . . supper in cafeteria. . .taken out for a good time at night by our big sisters . . . then to bed at last. July 6 — 6:45 a.m. to 6 p.m. today. . .fin- ished packing and getting settled . . . more orientation. July 7 — more classes. . .visited the kids to get better acquainted. July 8 — wore our uniforms for the first time. . .worked on the wards. July 10 — another tour of the hospital. . . so many places to get lost in. July —Had a math test today. . . y 2 x 34 equals JJ of 100%????? July 12 — Had our first nursing quiz. . . whew, glad that’s over. July 13 — We are already making empty beds. . .does it seem possible???? Party on Walcott roof. . .really had a good time. July 14 — Worked on the wards all morning. . .cleaning bedside tables. July 16 — Had our first taste of M.G.H. shots . . . Barby Eckersall really fell for them. July ij — T.C.R. It was here that we were observed in making our empty bed today. “Where is that toe pleat?” “Do you think that drawsheet is tight?” “Are those corners made properly?” July 23 — Started occupational therapy projects — embroidered sampler squares. July 26- August 2 — This week was filled with monthly examinations — sure were glad when they were over. August 3 — Now we can make occupied beds, give back care. . .really feel as though things were being accomplished. August 4 — First monthly marks posted; Ach! August 6 — Parts of our cadet uniform issued — didn’t get much chance to wear them as they had to be given back. August 14 — Y-J day... the city went wild and so did 92 Charles street ... re- member the fire escape incident? August 22 — Big sister-little sister party at Lynn beach. . .the water was fine but the moon was finer. . . Rest of the class moved to Thayer. August 28 — TPR ' s ... thought we knew how to count but we don ' t. . .Second month blues... to think we have been here that long. September 4 — A new class of probies ar- rived today — if they only knew what they were in for. September 10 — First nursing care study due tomorrow . . . everyone stayed up ’til the wee hours of the morning working furiously to finish. September 18 — OPD excursion. . .how do those patients ever find their way around. September 28 — Another month gone by. October 3 — Snack party given by Misses Dorothy Johnson and Helen Belcher. I 24]