Nursing in the Seventies
This blog has been in composition stage for a period of time. I hope anyone who reads the blog finds it engaging? If not, scroll on to the tee’s! I have been on an adventure back into an infinitesimal but influential part of my life! There is more but brevity is important and as Shakespeare once said ‘Brevity is the soul of Wiit’! And this blog is brief in the scheme of my life!
Within twelve months of finishing high school I walked into a mental hospital in country Victoria. I was 17! I had engaged in work experience at this hospital, but now ‘real work’ had begun. Twelve hour days, two days on, two days off, rolling into a three month stint of twelve hour night shifts, with same sequence of two on two off. My hiring was indirectly related to my surname. An esteemed unmarried aunt contributed her entire working life to the facility! Her sister also provided a number of years of service before committing suicide in the nursing quarters. I left home and resided in the same quarters. I later discovered my room was next to where she died.
Night shift came within four months of starting work and presented a stark difference in expectation! I was to be working alone. Alone in old cold creaking building at night. Granted, I was privileged to work in a more recently built establishment situated on the outer eastern boundary of the hospital. The foundation buildings were built in 1860’s, but the assigned ward was built in 1920-40’s? It had ‘history’ was isolated, freestanding and very spooky. The building included an open quadrangle enclosing half the site! Rattling cyclone fences and gates granted access and provided containment to secure the clients. Some single rooms were situated around the perimeter of the quadrangle but the majority of women clients were bedded down in two dormitories, offering limited room for dignity or respect and certainly no privacy. Every client was required to be observed hourly to ensure they were safe and asleep. Be mindful that mentally impaired people do not acknowledge nor care for your nervous disposition in the wee hours and would randomly pop out suddenly, without warning and bristle every hair follicle on my body! And remember no nursing support. Three A.M. in any health institution was and likely still is bewitching hour and the ‘scares’ continue thereafter. Without nursing duties ones brain shuts down and eyelids struggle against closure (a supervisor visited randomly to check your alertness)!This tiredness creates an altered state and one’s brain tricks you into seeing shadows and hearing creaks, knocks and bangs. I expected to confront ghouls, demons or apparitions around every corner or hackled at being watched through every uncovered window! You are somewhere between sleep state and high state of arousal. No-one is available to ground you and pull you back from moments of diminished clarity and temporary morbid insanity! I was ecstatic when the sun came up because the spooks retreated back in to the corners and the noises dimmed! But then hell descended once more most mornings before my head graced my pillow! The sound of a key in the lock and crunching of shoes in the quadrangle heralded the arrival of fear itself. Quite possibly he had served as an officer in the army such was his demeanor. He was in charge of this ward and his attitude toward me, scared me each an every morning we cohabitated the same space! This man was nasty at each morning handover otherwise classified as an interrogation! He barked order and demands and treated me with disdain for twelve weeks finding fault with my uneducated nursing performances! Eventually I improved to a standard he found acceptable
Now safety and security! The closest staff member for an emergency, and if contactable via the phone, was 20-30 meters away. Thick walls stifled any sounds of distress between wards, and the staff member in next ward needed to lock their office, ensure their clients were safe, unlock and relock their building and get past at least two locked gates to be of any assistance! I was 17, alone and petrified each night as I walked to this isolated building until I locked the gate upon leaving the next morning. I was a kid with adult responsibilities, without first aid or fire procedure training, no nursing expertise or knowledge on dealing with threatening behaviors. What could possibly go wrong? Then I became privy to a pearler of intel. In managements infinite wisdom, I was placed in this ward to replace an experienced nurse who had been badly assaulted with a fire poker. Yes, the ward was relieved of the client, but precedent was established. The potential for assault, hung over this placement like a monstrous dark cloud!
Being the1970’s security cameras did not exist, enabling illegal visits from a partner and friends on various weekends. Me awake and getting paid, my visitors awake by choice and affected by substances. I quite possibly occasionally still drunk or stoned from an afternoon soiree! The visits and my altered state provided temporary relief from night shift drudgery and some solace for missing a party or night out! Though in reality might have contributed to a heightened fight/flight/freeze state and thus didn’t happen often. Responsibility and accountability was quite obviously lacking at this point in time.
Most clients ambulated, and most of them stayed in bed others randomly wandered within boundaries of the unit requiring redirection. And a minority required assistance out of bed to a commode and back again. We had no fancy equipment to lift clients back then, just my arms, shoulders, legs, a good twisting motion, correct body placement and good timing to execute the movement alone. I eagerly counted down days to the end of placement in this unit. When that last morning arrived that man’s demeanor morphed into warm and pleasantries and he thanked me profusely and extolled my virtues as a potential psychiatric nurse . What the actual f..k? I hated that aspect of the environment. Two other senior staff had a nasty disposition toward me! Upon resignation one of my nemesis relayed her sadness at my decision and wished I would reconsider. I came to realize they respected my work ethic and were each testing me for suitability to being a nurse.
A new intake for Psychiatric Nurse Training commenced forthwith and I was admitted to the hospital’s training program in 1978-79! I was expected to complete three years of study. At the time I was the youngest in the state to enter this Batchelor of Nursing course! However study so soon after completing a secondary education, confronting aspects of study, (ie necessity to view an autopsy) desire to party unabated and (non accepted) sexual misconduct by a lecturer, all hastened my resignation from this establishment. I had completed nineteen months and despite the preceding content I actually remember these years among the best working experiences, especially for camaraderie and support.
Decommissioning rendered this facility empty late last century. Since the I have entered these empty walls on paranormal investigations! And these experiences have supported my theories and justified my terrors from many years previous, when night shift, alone, was my plight! Age and wisdom now negate the terror and welcomes the interaction from beyond. And ‘they’ remember me!
Footnote: A male lecturer during a 1:1 meeting regarding my poor study and assignment output, accused me of over-indulging in sexual activity. Intimidated but indignant, I was with encouragement to secure a 1:1 with the head lecturer. Without hesitation the said accusor denied my claim point blank in front of me and his boss, the senior lecturer. The accusations were dismissed. Yes, the conversation occurred with three of us together in one room. I came to understand the accusing lecturer was acquainted with many mistresses, during his marriage, one of whom was a friend of mine. During their sex-ploits he admitted my accusations were true! Even later in life I was reliably assured that possibly at the time of my complaint the senior lecturer was sexually abusing one of his children!
Interestingly, one of the wives of the lecturers, championed my efforts to succeed in my study, tutoring and testing me on everything pertinent to medication! She was very disappointed when I resigned!
This episode of inappropriate sexual comments and dismissal of same, was especially confronting to me. As a child I was subjected to abuse by family members, and a family friend! No-one knew. I did not tell! I did not think I would be believed!
