“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] The nurses and aides on the floor are full of hell today, telling explicit sexual jokes and playing tricks on one another.

(5:30 p.m. Jane had been interrupted at 4:14 by a nurse bringing vitamin C; then I’d read my wife what she’d delivered on the session so far. [...]

[...] People were coming and going in the room often — at one time there had been four nurses and aides there, laughing and joking. [...] In addition, a nurse had unintentionally gotten Jane’s medications mixed up this morning.

[...] It was Shawn, the night nurse. [...]

[...] Mary, the head nurse, came in and I said the bubble should be drained to relieve the pressure. [...]

[...] To an engineer he gives an explanation of the pulsations of atoms, discusses mental health with a nurse and aggression with a minister — all class members. [...]

(In Georgia’s room, I met a nurse who used to take care of Jane. [...] Later this same nurse dropped in to say hello to Jane. [...]

(“Do you want to say a few words about the dream the dentist’s nurse told me about today?”)

[...] My question was not meant to pry into a personal life, merely to obtain what I thought would be interesting information about a certain dream related to me by Dr. Colucci’s nurse, voluntarily.)

[...] At first I had thought he referred to Dr. Colucci’s dental nurse. [...]

(Phyllis, the nurse, hadn’t taken care of Jane lately. [...]

[...] Such as her impulse to hold a cigarette in her right hand again, or to reach out with her left hand to scratch her right thigh, or to hold the cup she uses in the morning to rinse out her mouth while the nurse does her teeth. [...]

[...] Dr. Gibson and the head nurse, Mary, had been in to 330 to look at Jane’s knee. [...] Dr. G looked at it, remarked that she had a large ulcer on the knee, and quickly left with Mary before Jane was quick enough to ask him what he was talking to the nurse about. [...]

[...] “The nurses are sicker than the patients,” Jane said she heard one of the nurses say this morning.

[...] A nurse came in to take Jane’s temperature. [...]

(I also told Jane that in a batch of fan mail that had been temporarily lost, I found a note from my dentist’s secretary and nurse, Babs, changing the date of my appointment from Feb. [...]

[...] I hadn’t eaten lunch today because a nurse had said to eat there at 330, since staff was having a party. [...]

[...] In the nonpsychic arena these correspond with your doctors and nurses and even to, say, social reformers. [...]

I liked practically all of the doctors and nurses and orderlies, and they liked me. [...] I learned to joke even as my backside swung perilously above the commode, while I hoped that its aim was true in the hands of the nurses and orderlies—and again I felt that long-forgotten camaraderie with people, and a growth within myself apart from my work, or what I did. [...]

[...] “It’s staph,” several of the nurses told us. [...]

(Pause at 8:05.) My 82 pounds of flesh were hauled, dragged, pulled, and stretched by good-natured but often impatient strangers—nurses and orderlies and aides—and the most private of my physical processes became a matter of public record. [...]

[...] (As Jane has been told by several nurses.)

(It also arouses my sense of irony and dismay — for the nurses who told Jane such things are presumably in better health than she is. [...]

[...] She said that after I’d left last night two nurses had taken care of her, and that while they were doing so, they unloaded numerous negative suggestions about many things. [...]

[...] She asked me to rub the equivalent spot on her right temple, but before we got any results a nurse came in to say, “I’m making my 4 o’clock check a little late. [...]

(On Wednesday, May 13, Miss Callahan’s relatives asked Jane if we could move Miss Callahan’s blue divan into our apartment, and in its place let them take a hide-away bed we had in storage; this bed to be used for a nurse who was to live with Miss Callahan when she was brought home from the Town House. [...]

(In the meantime, Miss Callahan’s relatives moved her and her nurse into her apartment on Saturday afternoon, May 16. [...]

(This session came through two days before I was to join a meeting of doctors, nurses, and other personnel at 11 AM, Tuesday, to see about arrangements for Jane to return home. [...]

(The crew at the hospital did have a birthday party for me, and even though I knew what they were up to, it was still a delightful surprise, what with their obvious good will and cheers, the cards, and the food — more than we could eat, at least Jane and I. Mary, the head nurse, made the chocolate cake with chocolate icing. [...]

[...] A young nurse brought in Jane’s Darvoset and aspirin. [...]

(“What about those sudden movements he said he made with his legs last night, when the nurse dropped the cigarette on his bed?”)

[...] It seems that last night the nurse—Dawn? [...]

[...] Make whatever suitable necessary adjustments in terms of providing nursing care, but all in all it will work out much better to Ruburt’s advantage, and your own, to get him home, with whatever promptness is achievable. [...]

(Then she told me about a new nurse who fed her breakfast and made her mad by talking about Jane’s going to “another facility.” [...] The nurse checked with the station to see if Jane could smoke. [...]