I

THE NURSE AND HER PATIENT


You may think it unnecessary for me to tell you any more about
"the patient." You will say, perhaps: "Have I had all this
training, and must I yet be told how to treat a patient?" I answer
that you have been taught how to watch the progress of disease,
how to follow intelligently the doctor's orders, also certain
manual arts, your proficiency in which is unquestionably most
necessary, but there is much more comprehended in the meaning of
the term "a good nurse" than this. How often do we hear stories of
nurses who were good--_but_--who were skillful--_but_--
and after the _but_ comes a long list of such faults as do
not show so much in hospital life, where the routine and the many
rules and the constant supervision make them less likely to become
prominent. "She bangs the doors." "She breaks the fine china."
"She wears heavy shoes," or "She talks too much," or "She is
pretty and spends too much time over her front hair"--but why go
on? You have all heard such tales--_ad nauseam_, and if you
are wise, you will set up a sign-post against every one of these
snares into which your sister nurses have fallen, and on this you
will print in large, clear letters: "Danger! Walking on this place
forbidden." So much by way of apology for treating you once more
to a lecture on "the patient."

The relation between nurse and patient should, from the first, be
a more than amicable one. You have come to bestow the priceless
blessing of unwearied, skillful care upon one who should