Room Mates and Such...

Further excerpts from my 1957 hospital journal:

Note: The names used in my journal are not the true names of the individuals.

As I have been writing this, my two room mates have been mumbling over their breakfast, making the usual remarks about the coldness and bitterness of the coffee, and the lack of fruit juice on the tray.

Mrs. Ingersoll eats, as she does everything else, with many gasps and squeaks and moans. She complains a great deal about her aches and pains, and is particularly preoccupied with the condition of her bowels! She is in her late seventies I imagine, and is, without doubt, the most babyish old woman I have ever seen. You almost feel that she has led a very sheltered and petted life, although this seems hardly possible. Her late husband was engaged in gold mining, and they came here to the Mother Lode country soon after their marriage. It is not likely that life here in those days was such that a woman could get much pampering. She is very sweet really; I don't mean to be implying that I don't like her. I only wish that she would buck up a bit, just as many people were wishing I would do the same a few weeks ago!

Mrs. Wilkerson, who occupies the third bed in the room is quite a different type. She complains not at all about her pains or the state of her bowels, but oh, how she complains about the food! She sits up in bed to eat and is very phlegmatic, almost stoic, in the way she comments in her curiously deep monotone. "They give me prunes again this morning", she may remark. "I don't care much for prunes." She is rather a picky eater from what I have been able to observe, and there are many foods about which she "don't care much". Mrs. Wilkerson will be going home next week and is trying to get the strength back in her legs. She gets up and closes and opens the door for Mrs. Ingersoll on her countless trips to the commode. Mrs. Ingersoll seems to feel that there is always someone lurking just outside our room waiting for the chance to peer in and catch a glimpse of her sitting on the pot!

So far, since I started writing this just before breakfast two of the nurses have in and asked what I was doing. Mrs. Braely, the little Scottish lady, wondered if I was keeping a diary. I admitted I was, and she told me that she had kept a diary on her trip to Scotland five years ago. What a pretty woman she is! Silver gray hair that seems to wave naturally, blue eyes with dark lashes, a flawless complexion all pink and white and soft looking. And a really lovely smile.

Our friendship progresses under a severe handicap. She brings me my 6:00 A.M. pill quite often, and my outlook on life at that hour is seldom cheery. Yesterday she awakened me with her rather harsh voice and I came up from the pillow spoiling for a fight! I later apologized for being such a bear and we're friends again.

I wonder if a hospital in a big city has quite the same homey atmosphere and the same friendly relationship between patients and nurses? I should be able to answer my own question after the time I spent as a student at Charity Hospital in New Orleans, but the friendliness there was of a different type. Here in Placerville, everybody knows everybody, if not personally, at least by way of our very busy grapevine system! You never know whose cousin or sister-in-law or nephew you may be talking to, so you have to keep a sense of diplomacy always at hand.

The nurse's aide who came in to take T.P.R.s (temperature, pulse, respiration) this morning was Rosemary Linehan, a woman who interests me. I would like to know her and have her for a friend. She has the most pleasing voice and manner of speaking I have heard in a long time. There is a very educated sound to her speech and a noticeable lack of the poor grammar so prevalent among the people here. Mrs. Linehan is tall and thin to the point of gauntness. Her uniforms all look as if they are at least three sizes too big for her. Her hair is blonde turned gray and she has gray-blue eyes. She wears no make-up, not even lipstick, so I have wondered if she belongs to the Seventh Day Adventist Church, as so many people living in Placerville do.

Later, same day: Well, as the old saying goes, "the natives are restless tonight". Mr. Carter (hospital handy man and jack of all trades) just came in and removed the traction frame from my bed, so I won't be exercising my arms and shoulders until he rigs up another "sky-hook" for me. They just brought a man up from Sacramento with a broken leg, so they needed the frame for his bed. His leg hasn't been set yet but they must be planning to put him in traction.

Dr. Morgan just looked in to see how I am. He wants to know if my leg is getting "solid"...I should think he'd be a better judge of that than I! Mrs. Ingersoll thought he looked mad, but I guess he was just tired...Mrs. Franklin (nurse) later told me that they had just delivered a baby.