Williamsport Hospital School of Nursing - Oak Yearbook (Williamsport, PA)

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S. M. ' 56

Page 18 text:

Dear Daughter: Your probation period ' s started, It will be a worthy fight, And a privilege and an honor To receive your cap of snowv white. Your profession is not easv Yet you ' ll alwavs wear a grin, Speaking cheerfully to the ailing, Giving aid for the pain therein. You ' ll go on duty in the morning Giving baths and making beds, o o Even though your back is aching And you have a splitting head. All dav long you will be thinking Of your night of sweet repose . . . When suddenly, all nurses are alerted A terrible accident just arose! You ' ll see the miracle of motherhood And welcome a babe ' s first breath. You ' ll also see the Grim Reaper As you close some eyes in death. We ' re proud of you, our daughter, As you open life ' s other door, Remember not to discriminate, Serve well both rich and poor. We pray that God will bless you And if ever you ' re in doubt, Go to Him for guidance He will always help you out. Then when your life ' s work is ended And you cross the bar, We ' re sure your white cap will be replaced With a bright and shining star. —Your Mother and Dad 14

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THAT FIRST DAY— as I walked up the steps of the Louisa Street Nurses ' Residence, I realized that I was completely on mv own for the first time in my life. But that lonely feeling was soon forgotten as I made many new acquaintances in spite of the con- fusion of orientation. First, I was taken on a tour of the four resi- dences, one of which was to be my home for the next three years. I was then given the routine for classes, study hours— 7:30 to 10 and curfew at 7:00 p. m., except for week ends. At the beginning of my third week I started the next phase of my schooling— classes at Lycoming College. That first day of col- lege I received three large books which only put me in a more con- fused state. As I glanced through the pages of these books— micro- biology, anatomy and chemistry, I wondered if I ' d ever learn the many facts and theories which flashed before me. To add to all this, I not only felt out of place, I looked it, in my unglamorous initiation oarb. Then, as if the odd stockings and shoes I had to wear for initiation weren ' t bad enough, I ' d hardly gotten rid of them when I was introduced to the sack-like attire commonly known as a scrub dress . Even in this, my first professional outfit, I began at last to feel a little like mv ideal of the Woman in White. 16