This series on Kate Cumming is dedicated to all those nurses who give of themselves to heal others. Your kindness, your touch, your wisdom and your unselfish dedication can never be appreciated enough.
To all my sister and brother nurses,
Thank You.
It has been interesting in reading Kate's journal how her cares and concerns have changed. In the beginning, so much was about the horror and suffering she was witnessing. As her nursing progressed, there is less about that in her journal, although at one hospital she stated, "All our men seem to die resigned; but it is difficult to judge of their frame of mind, as they are too fr gone with disease when they come here to talk to them on the subject of death, which is another proof of the necessity of preparing, while in health, for that long journey form which no traveler returns."
Many of her concerns as the journal continues are of how to care for the men, how to procure the supplies or the personnel needed to meet their needs. It is obvious she has learned the lesson all nurses must learn at some point, how to put aside the pain and suffering until later, that the work must come first, and then later, when alone, the nurse can deal with his or her own feelings about what has been seen or heard.
Kate has learned to continue on, to go about the business of healing and taking care of what must be done. Over and over again in her journal she writes of the needs of the men: for milk, for clothing, for certain types of food, and for persons to cook that food correctly.
Here are some excerpts from her journal:
September 16: I arrived at Chattanooga this morning, about 5 o'clock, having left Dalton on the 15th. Mrs. Thornton arrived there before I left. We are now in the Newsom Hospital. It is a very large one, having been enlarged to double the size it was when we visited it before.
We have nothing to cook on but one small stove, and that a smoky one. It cooks for the whole of this side of the hospital. We have nothing to give the men to eat but wheat-bread, fresh beef, rice, tea and coffee.
September 19: I have been kept quite busy ever since I came here; in fact, we all have been. We have a good deal to try us, but our minds were made up to expect that before we came.
One of our greatest trials is want of proper diet for sick men. We do the best we can with what we have -- toast the bread and make beef tea; and we have a little butter - bad at that.
There are no changes of clothing for the men; but we have cloth, and after our day's work is done, we each make a shirt, which a great help.
September 28th: Have been very busy all the week, too much so to write in my journal.
Diarrhea is the prevailing disease among the patients.
The great cry of our sick is for milk. We could buy plenty, but have no money. We get a little every day for the worst cases, at our own expense. I intend letting the folks at home know how many are suffering for want of nourishment, for I feel confident that if they knew of it they would send us means.
October 12th: I do hope some one prayed for me today, as I have been too cross to do so myself; have had one of the most trying days of my life. I wonder if Miss Nightingale had any of the hardships to endure that we have.
I have another kitchen, and the chimney of it smokes as badly as the others. I spent the whole day in it. To add to all, it has poured down rain all day, and the wood was so wet that it was almost impossible to make it burn. I thought of home and home comforts not a few times.
We have men for cooks; but as they are taken from the convalescent patients, they are scarcely fitted for the work. I have had some two or three, but as soon as they are initiated into the mysteries of the culinary art they take sick; so we have a good deal of it to do ourselves.
October 27th: Patients from Bragg's army are coming in daily; the hospital is full of them.
I thought I had found a treasure in a woman whom I made my head cook; but on going into the kitchen this morning, found her in such a state of intoxication I had to dismiss her, and fall back on the convalescent men as cooks. It seems hard to make them understand the importance of cooking properly. There are many things, if not correctly prepared, are very injurious to the sick.
KC
~~~~~
In reading her journal, my heart goes out to Kate, trying to care for the men in her ward and cook on that smokey stove as well. I can feel her indignation when she found the intoxicated cook in the kitchen. I would imagine we could have seen some Scotch temper there.
In reading, I felt her frustration as well. How many of us as nurses have felt the pinch
of a short-staffed night? Or a day when the patients just kept coming in and perhaps the nurses kept calling in? We all did just what Kate did, we heaved a big sigh and went about the business of "doing the best we can with what we have."
I can remember many a time having to "regroup", to reassign patients until we have evenly distributed them among the available nurses. I remember one night when we delivered seven babies in forty-three minutes with four nurses. The first nurse was the only one to actually deliver her own patient. Each of us just took whomever we needed to take to get the job done and in the end, each patient and each baby had been delivery and cared for properly. But it was a blur of baby-birthing activity!
So far all of my brother and sister nurses who have worked short-handed, who have done more than their share of duty during a shift, I pat you on the back, knowing it is possible no one else did.
Your dedication and your determination has not gone unnoticed.
Many of her concerns as the journal continues are of how to care for the men, how to procure the supplies or the personnel needed to meet their needs. It is obvious she has learned the lesson all nurses must learn at some point, how to put aside the pain and suffering until later, that the work must come first, and then later, when alone, the nurse can deal with his or her own feelings about what has been seen or heard.
Kate has learned to continue on, to go about the business of healing and taking care of what must be done. Over and over again in her journal she writes of the needs of the men: for milk, for clothing, for certain types of food, and for persons to cook that food correctly.
Here are some excerpts from her journal:
September 16: I arrived at Chattanooga this morning, about 5 o'clock, having left Dalton on the 15th. Mrs. Thornton arrived there before I left. We are now in the Newsom Hospital. It is a very large one, having been enlarged to double the size it was when we visited it before.
We have nothing to cook on but one small stove, and that a smoky one. It cooks for the whole of this side of the hospital. We have nothing to give the men to eat but wheat-bread, fresh beef, rice, tea and coffee.
September 19: I have been kept quite busy ever since I came here; in fact, we all have been. We have a good deal to try us, but our minds were made up to expect that before we came.
One of our greatest trials is want of proper diet for sick men. We do the best we can with what we have -- toast the bread and make beef tea; and we have a little butter - bad at that.
There are no changes of clothing for the men; but we have cloth, and after our day's work is done, we each make a shirt, which a great help.
September 28th: Have been very busy all the week, too much so to write in my journal.
Diarrhea is the prevailing disease among the patients.
The great cry of our sick is for milk. We could buy plenty, but have no money. We get a little every day for the worst cases, at our own expense. I intend letting the folks at home know how many are suffering for want of nourishment, for I feel confident that if they knew of it they would send us means.
October 12th: I do hope some one prayed for me today, as I have been too cross to do so myself; have had one of the most trying days of my life. I wonder if Miss Nightingale had any of the hardships to endure that we have.
I have another kitchen, and the chimney of it smokes as badly as the others. I spent the whole day in it. To add to all, it has poured down rain all day, and the wood was so wet that it was almost impossible to make it burn. I thought of home and home comforts not a few times.
We have men for cooks; but as they are taken from the convalescent patients, they are scarcely fitted for the work. I have had some two or three, but as soon as they are initiated into the mysteries of the culinary art they take sick; so we have a good deal of it to do ourselves.
October 27th: Patients from Bragg's army are coming in daily; the hospital is full of them.
I thought I had found a treasure in a woman whom I made my head cook; but on going into the kitchen this morning, found her in such a state of intoxication I had to dismiss her, and fall back on the convalescent men as cooks. It seems hard to make them understand the importance of cooking properly. There are many things, if not correctly prepared, are very injurious to the sick.
KC
~~~~~
In reading her journal, my heart goes out to Kate, trying to care for the men in her ward and cook on that smokey stove as well. I can feel her indignation when she found the intoxicated cook in the kitchen. I would imagine we could have seen some Scotch temper there.
In reading, I felt her frustration as well. How many of us as nurses have felt the pinch
of a short-staffed night? Or a day when the patients just kept coming in and perhaps the nurses kept calling in? We all did just what Kate did, we heaved a big sigh and went about the business of "doing the best we can with what we have."I can remember many a time having to "regroup", to reassign patients until we have evenly distributed them among the available nurses. I remember one night when we delivered seven babies in forty-three minutes with four nurses. The first nurse was the only one to actually deliver her own patient. Each of us just took whomever we needed to take to get the job done and in the end, each patient and each baby had been delivery and cared for properly. But it was a blur of baby-birthing activity!
So far all of my brother and sister nurses who have worked short-handed, who have done more than their share of duty during a shift, I pat you on the back, knowing it is possible no one else did.
Your dedication and your determination has not gone unnoticed.
Thank you.
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