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

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Others went to McLean and lived the life of Riley. The middle of the year was marked by the minstrel show which was such fun and so profitable. Can we ever forget those songs, dances and bad jokes? May of 1948 saw great changes in our lives. Everyone went into checks, we could smoke in the dining hall, mid-morning coffee was served and the new probie program was announced. Things were certainly looking up. June was dated by the hospital celebra- tion of its seventy-fifth anniversary. With time flying by, we started to concentrate on that all-important business of money-earning. Dances every other week, strawberry festi- vals, sales and outings started to fill our class pockets so by the tune September rolled around we were planning and spending for our yearbook. September — seniors now and on the home stretch toward graduation. As this book goes to press, we have this last year still before us. So much to look for- ward to! Our senior banquet, and dance, buy- ing uniforms, paying the ever-mounting breakage fee, dashing off case studies, pack- ing too much into too little and finishing up our ward services. Training is nearly over but the memories which it has given us of pa- tients, classes, friends, fun and discipline will never be forgotten.

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September Class History These sketches cast but few reflections upon the eventful history of our class. How well we recall that first sunny day when we crossed the lofty threshold and entered into the M.G.H. world. Four months of getting ac- quainted, rushing to classes, cramming for tests and trembling as we tried to remember which way to fold, bend and think in T.C.R. Then on January 13, 1946, we cast off our gray, drab, formless garments and donned our blues and the precious white caps. That transformation improved the patient’s morale as well as our own. The June formal came and went in a burst of glory and happiness. Then came our first summer at M.G.H. — a summer heated by the hot packs in Bulfinch and cooled by the sails on the Charles. It was fun and before we knew it, a new class was entering and we were now members of the elite upper class. This second year sent us flying in all direc- tions. The O.R., the unforgettable D.K. (es- pecially on Bulfinch 3), pediatrics with its moving from old Wards 10 and 12 to the lush- carpeted new home in the Burnham building, and many other services that will always leave their memories. Part of the class went to B.L.I. and came back with tales of peri- carts, absent safety-pins, battles in the labor room and fears of a certain supervisor.

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February Class Will We, the February class of 1949, being of sound mind and testamentary capacity, do hereby declare this to be our last will and testament disposing herein of the real, per- sonal, and mixed property of which we shall be possessed at the time of our departure. To Miss Sleeper, we leave a deep apprecia- tion for all guidance she has so willingly given to each of us — a personal thought for continued success and happiness in all her future days at MGH. To our numerous and now scattered faculty we bequeath our sincere thanks for their patience concerning pretests. Sylvia Anderson leaves her success with Toni permanents to some timid probie who’s trying to please the nursing department by getting up enough courage to cut her tresses. Nan Brown wills her beautiful brown eyes to Lyn Meinelt; but takes her creative imagination with her for future graduate plans. Jean Chiron bequeaths her quiet, calm ways to Ann Lewis’ tender care and tiptoes ofF to graduate. Jo Cislo leaves her extra men and Saturday night dates to the younger students when she takes off for a career in the clouds. Bea Comstock leaves her quiet manner, love of simple, country life to Effie Conners who prefers the city life — how can she? Peg Conners wills her knack of having just what you need when you need it to some poor probie who’s lost her bandage scissors the day she’s to be supervised on her first DSD. Dottie Curtis leaves her sentimental at- tachment for McLean to any hopeful student who’s waiting for that one and only to come along. Nancy DiMattia bequeaths her flashing eyes and dancing ability to her tall, fair op- posite, Martha Ware; but, who cares — pretty girls come all sizes, don’t they? Lois Frothingham will take her future all wrapped up with a wedding band as soon as she graduates and leaves her household hints to the first probie to get a sparkling diamond. Shirl Gordon sadly leaves her affiliation at McLean to another student who would also approve of a longer stay. Betty Grant bequeaths her leadership ability and over abundance of class spirit to our successors, the Class of 1950, yes, just about the time they need money for the En- dowment Fund. Phil Haydon leaves her ward instruction books and the weary hours spent in labor over them to some poor gal who needs clinic hours. Sel Herrmann leaves her attractive femin- ine attributes to Janet Connolly who also might have been a model. Catherine Hrycay leaves her frank and honest opinion to anyone who wants it but she isn’t quite willing to bequeath her beau- tiful diamond to anyone just yet. Dottie Iwanicki bequeaths her big heart and merry laughter to any and all as proof that life can be beautiful (even on night duty). Poddee Jacobs wills her style of wearing her cap to any probie who needs a snood. Kaye Kennedy bequeaths her fashion for wearing those beautiful suits to Locke Eve who can quite ably step into the role. Mary Morris leaves her dancing ability to Arthur Murray who may need a good in- structor some day. Barbie Richardson bequeaths her sweet ways, understanding nature, and enthusiasm for all things to Kitty Aylett who has a similar reputation. Barbie Roser wills her scrapbooks and photo albums to any younger student who might also lose her heart to M.I.T. Clara Skowyra leaves the bridge table (holding one trump card) to Pat Briggs, who also makes beautiful clothes. [ 19 ]