In just three weeks, Wendy Johnstone will have been nursing local people, our families and friends, for 46 years.
She is not only experienced; she is warm, empathic and knowledgeable.
Whereas, I haven’t been in hospital since our youngest son was born, and had many questions.
As our world has changed, quite dramatically, over the years, I asked her how nursing had changed.
She painted a picture of a system based on military discipline and with a strict chain of command.
Nurses were responsible for the patients’ comfort, hygiene, meals and medicines.
There was a matron, always strict, sometimes frightening, and the doctors made the decisions.
Nurses wore uniforms, starched dresses and their red capes.
They were trained at the Elsie Jones Education Centre, and, if they wanted postgraduate education, they had to leave Shepparton to get it.
Modern lifting equipment was yet to become available, mattresses were heavy, the work was hard.
Today’s nurses are highly qualified and a part of the health team.
Discussions take place and every opinion is valuable.
Technology and machines have made the work easier, and nurses frequently handle procedures that, in the past, only doctors were qualified to manage.
Wendy today
These days, Wendy is an after hours manager.
However, she rotates around the shifts, morning, afternoon and night.
Wendy told me that teamwork at the hospital was always very good — but, if the pressure was on, if it was particularly busy, the teamwork was “fabulous”.
The afternoon shift is usually the busiest. On Saturdays, they frequently have footballers coming in with injuries.
Wendy is clearly proud of her hospital and passionate about teamwork.
She told me of her pride in the hospital when COVID hit.
“We were good at controlling transmission,” she said.
And she is still learning; she talked about her research into the Spanish flu, which may, or may not, have begun with the many Chinese people working in Spain.
The word quarantine originates from the Italian word quaranta (which means 40).
Infected ships were kept at sea for 40 days.
Together, we mused on the inevitability of the next one.
In her spare hours, she has written a book about her family and is working on the next.
And I particularly enjoy talking with people who keep learning — just because they want to.
A personal question
There was a story I wanted to tell Wendy, because I have wondered about it for many years.
In the early 1980s, my grandmother had a severe stroke and was in care for five months before she passed away.
My mother and I visited her every night — telling her little stories about the boys, or talking football, or reassuring her that her cat was all right — or whatever we could think up.
There was never a response.
Then, one night, I was waving my finger around because I’d burnt it cooking dinner.
My mum said, “She’s burnt her finger — she’s always burning herself on that oven.”
The next night, we were back again and, suddenly, in her normal voice, my grandmother asked, “How’s your poor, darling finger?”
I’ll never forget those words — and my questions were numerous. How can this happen?
She remembered my finger 24 hours later. And her voice was strong.
Wendy said that she had had a similar experience with a friend, who couldn’t speak, but reached out her arms in response to something that was said.
She told me that hearing was the last sense to go, and it was possible that an apparently comatose patient had heard a great deal.
I think this is important for us to understand, and to be careful that in these situations, and make sure our one-sided conversations are positive and cheerful.
Thank you, Wendy, for your time and patience. Long may your passion and pride last.
Keep warm and, if possible, cheerful.
May it be easy, my friends.
Marnie
Email: towntalk@sheppnews.com.au
Phone: Text or call 0409 317187
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