I have mentioned this in a previous post. A major problem in our world is that many stupid people get to make decisions. Here are a few that I have encountered. Some have now, thankfully, been rectified.
As a young child, I absolutely loved reading books. These days, children are encouraged to read from a young age, but in my days that was not the case. As I have mentioned in a previous post, I got chastised by my teacher when I dared to read more pages than I was meant to. My parents suggested I join the town library where I could satisfy my desire to read. I rmember going to the front desk to apply for membership. The stern librarian asked me what my age was. When I told her I was eight, she said that only people over ten could join. I was speechless. There was no amount of persuasion that would cause her to relent. I was old enough to catch a bus into town on my own, but not old enough read books. I left in tears. Stupid stupid stupid.
When I was about ten years old, I had my appendix removed. This necessitated a seven day stay in hospital, where I was looked after by reasonably kind student nurses and an absolute battleaxe of a ward sister. The night after my operation I tossed and turned. I must have flung my arms out because I sent a caraffe of water crashing to the floor. I remember crying almost hysterically. I really wanted my mother, but she was not allowed to be there. The ward sister really blasted me for breaking the caraffe. These days, the parents are encouraged to stay with their children when they are in hospital. At that time, parents were only allowed to visit their children between 3.00pm and 3.30pm – half an hour a day. I spent the whole day in my hospital bed looking forward to the thirty minutes that my mother would be with me. I did not see my father, because he was at work, and parents were not allowed to visit in the evenings. Down the passage there was a large ward with younger children. I remember so clearly, when the bell went at 3.30pm to indicate the end of visiting hours, and the parents shuffled out, the huge wail that went up from these kids. They sobbed and screamed hysterically for at least half an hour. The already hard pressed nurses had to try and calm them down. Who made these stupid laws? Surely it would not take more than a few brain cells to realise that giving parents reasonably unrestricted access made the nurses’ jobs easier, and probably made the children recover quicker. Thankfully, things have changed. A few years ago, Muppet, our daughter, broke her arm rather badly. We were told to go to the recovery room to make sure that when she came around from the anaesthetic, she would see familiar faces.
I could go on. When Spiderman and Muti Man were born, I was allowed to look at them and then I was told to go home. When Muppet was born some years later, I was actually asked to hold her and cuddle her while Mother Superior recovered. I then brought her to Mother Superior, and was allowed to stay as long as I liked. It was a very special moment, and I am still angry that I was denied it with Spiderman and Muti Man.
When Spiderman was three, he became very ill, and had to have a kidney removed. The hospital ward was run by an absolute bitch named sister Brown. She obviously disliked children and parents, but some knucklehead had decided to put her in charge of a children’s surgical ward. Sister Brown decreed that vistors were only allowed beween 9.00am and 6.00pm, never mind that she was dealing with traumatised young children. The night before the big operation, we asked if we could stay with Spiderman. She flatly refused. We got there early the next morning, only to find that he had already been taken to theatre. The thought of this young child being woken up and taken by strangers to his operation still haunts me today. We waited sadly at his bed for him to return, and stayed with him the rest of the day. At 6.00pm, the bitch ushered us out, while he lay in his cot and screamed for us to come back. It was very hard. The next day, while we waited to be allowed into the ward at 9.00am, we could hear Spiderman crying inside. Mother Superior almost went frantic with worry. The bitch informed us that Spderman was very badly behaved, and we should do something about it. This was a three year old who was recovering from major surgery the day before, and was denied the loving care of his mother. All I can hope is that the bitch is no longer running a children’s ward. The surgeon, who was a renowned professor, and obviously a very intelligent man, saw what was happening, and discharged Spiderman early to be cared for by his family.
As I have already said, fortunately, sanity has prevaled, and parents are encouraged, if not requested, to take an active role in caring for their children while in hospital. Fathers also participate in their children’s birth, and can now enjoy that unique time with their new family.
