“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(I called Upjohn nursing service last Tuesday, noting that starting next Monday we’ll want a nurse at the house only three times a week instead of five. I’ll do the dressing-changes required for Jane’s decubiti the other days. The nurse, Peggy Jowett, has already been informed of the change in routine. Our idea is to soon cut down the visits to two a week, then one....

(One thing that led to our decision to cut down the visits was that I felt that often Jane seemed worse after the nurses left than she was before they arrived, although her being stirred up for a couple of hours may have contributed to my feeling. But it does seem like a mixed blessing at best. We’re always on the watch for negative suggestions, and some of the nurses dispense these very freely. One of them, Eleanor, visited Jane the last two Mondays and Tuesdays. She is now on vacation, and we trust that the reduced schedule will do away with Eleanor’s visits. She is a nice person who means well, but who also broadcasts negative suggestions like a radio beacon, quite unwittingly. It’s easy to see that she has built her life around such feelings, and is quite pleased with it. [She told Jane she’s had five operations herself.] Jane got so that when Eleanor was here she was constantly saying “no, no, no” to herself as the nurse talked, in order to protect herself from that steady barrage.

(Roe Cantando, head of the local Upjohn service, visited a couple of days after I called. She brought with her a student nurse, Julia, from Arnot-Ogden. [Roe also brought a student nurse on her previous visit, by the way.]

(We have yet to be given the results of the thyroid-blood test that was to be run last Wednesday, according to Dr. K’s nurse. I haven’t called, figuring it’s of little use. There may have been delays or goof-ups, as happened while Jane was in the hospital. I think she’s very gradually changing for the better as things are, and for the moment at least am content to take some comfort in that. Jane agrees. She’s still on the reduced Synthroid dosage, since we haven’t been told to change it.

(“Connection with a nurse, or nursing.” Jane’s mother is a bedridden arthritic in a nursing home at Middle Grove, NY. A nurse friend at the hospital there runs her errands for her, etc., and mailed the sweater to Jane shortly after May 10,1966. Jane’s mother mentions the name of the nurse, Fran, specifically in the letter of May 10.

Connection with a nurse, or nursing. [...]

(I asked Seth three questions, asking for elaboration on color, the country connection and the nurse, or nursing. [...]

(“What’s that about a nurse?”)

[...] At 3:36 a new nurse came in to take her temperature — 98.2. At 3:50 another nurse took her blood pressure.

[...] I met a couple of new nurses or aides myself. [...]

(After a few minutes, Jane said the dream could have been related to the injuries the nurse’s aide had suffered to her own impaired leg — the one that had been stapled inside that I described in a recent session. [...]

[...] A note about the bedsore suggestions given by our nurse, Peggy J: Last Wednesday afternoon during her regular visit Peggy told us she’d talked to her boss, Roe—also a nurse—and that Friday Roe would meet her here to look at Jane’s bedsores. [...]

The returning motion and energy that is released will automatically take care of the condition—and watch yourselves with your nurse’s mention of the bedsore episodes. [...]

[...] I also stressed how important it was for us not to be bothered by, or even respond to, any negative suggestions unwittingly given by the nurse, Peggy. [...]

(Saturday, also, the nurses told us that it’s now been decided by administration that all the people who were moved out of Surgical 3 are now to be moved back first of the week. [...] Everybody’s mad—the doctors, the nurses, the patients, the nurses, the aides. [...]

[...] A couple of the nurses told us that Surgical 3 is back up to full operations again—with a load of some 15 patients coming in this morning, for a total of 22 or 23. [...]

[...] A nurse came in to tell us the staff is having its Valentine’s Day party next Tuesday noon, and for me not to eat lunch at the house.

[...] At 3:20 a nurse came in to put a heparin lock in Jane’s right forearm. [...]

[...] After the nurse had inserted the heparin lock, Jane went back to reading the session. [...]

[...] No sooner had Jane spoken Seth’s greeting than a student nurse came in to take her temperature, at 101.2. “Shit,” Jane said. [...]

(Very kindly nurses quickly helped settle Jane in the room, which was very pleasant. [...] The nurses awkwardly put Jane in bed after sitting her on the commode. [...]

(Since I’d forgotten to bring Jane’s medications, I had to list them for the nurses. A nurse got Jane some toast, ice cream, coffee and pudding, since we’d missed supper. [...]

[...] She’d been out of her office, but returned my call to her nurse almost at once. [...]

[...] The nurses told us she’d called several times the night Jane was admitted, and that she had the reputation of being very caring and conscientious—qualities we can certainly admire and respect. [...]

(One of the new nurses had her 20th birthday today. Staff had a party and lots of goodies to eat, so a nurse put together more food for Jane and me. [...]

[...] The nurse said Jane wasn’t good. [...]

[...] I had two nurses hold her up while I got rid of the chucks. [...]

(One of the nurse’s aides stopped by for a visit. [...] She also told us that another nurse will be out for at least a week with a strained back, which she evidently got from trying to lift a patient. [...]

[...] A nurse took Jane’s vitals — temperature, 98.5. When all was clear and quiet — except for the patient, Karina, hollering next door — Jane said she’d like to have a short session.)

[...] “Oh, your singing is so clear and sweet!” her visiting nurse had exclaimed the other day, when my wife had begun to sing while the nurse was changing the dressings on her decubiti. [...]

[...] But the incident made me think that it’s a pity nursing students aren’t taught valid facts of life, instead of the medical dogmas that often prolong illness. And Jane likes Phyllis—she’s a good nurse, my wife said. [...]

[...] Then later in the morning I had to call him back to tell him about Ms. Murdock in social services, and the 16-hours-a-day private nursing proposal in connection with the infirmary. [...]

[...] A new nurse came in to do all of Jane’s vitals. [...]

[...] I read the prayer with her at 7:00, and left a few minutes earlier after making sure she had the nurse’s call button handy.

[...] Later in 330 she had to call for help because she couldn’t work the nurses’ call button, and one of the nurses hollered at her. [...]

(Carla hadn’t been gone a minute when another nurse came in, and said she’d do Jane’s ears a little later. [...]

[...] A nurse’s aide brought in Jane’s vitamins. [...]

[...] A couple of nurses were there when I unwrapped it. [...]

[...] Unfortunately, a nurse interrupted us by bringing in Jane’s dosage of Darvoset. [...]

[...] Eleanor Maggi, the nurse, visits tomorrow, and we plan to tell her to make her visits on Tuesday and Friday next week. [...] But a major reason for our reducing the nurses’ visits is to get rid of the constant negative suggestions they unwittingly broadcast, all in the name of trying to be helpful. [...]

(Long pause.) With all the best intentions in the world, the nurses are carriers of the most unfortunate medical beliefs. [...]

It seems unnatural to some people to hear of animals’ mothers who refuse to nurse one offspring, or sometimes even attack it — but in those instances the animal mother is instinctively aware of the situation, and acts to save the offspring from future suffering.

[...] Nor was any aide or nurse. [...]

[...] A nurse had brought in Jane’s Darvoset and aspirin, and that was it.)

[...] Thursday a nurse from Arnot-Ogden drew blood from Jane for the tests Dr. K wanted, including the thyroid. This morning Dr. K’s nurse called and gave us the results of the tests—all but the thyroid, that is, which is to run this coming Wednesday. [...]

[...] On the other hand, in such cases remember that often a doctor’s or a nurse’s negative suggestions or fears, voiced, simply give voice to the individual’s own fears. [...]

[...] It seems to you that the female always tended to the offspring, for example, nursing them, that she was forced to remain close to home while the male fought off enemies or hunted for food. [...] The family of the caveman was a far more “democratic” group than you suppose — men and women working side by side, children learning to hunt with both parents, women stopping to nurse a child along the way, the species standing apart from others because it was not ritualized in sexual behavior.

[...] After a woman bore, she nursed the child, taking it with her on food-gathering excursions, or sometimes letting other women in the group nurse the child. [...]

[...] She’d heard nurses say the same thing.

(I couldn’t help noticing as I walked down the hall on my way out, how busy all the patient rooms were, the cacophony of sounds, the numerous visitors, patients and nurses and aides. [...]

[...] One of the nurses popped in on her way home to tell us that Georgia Cecce had just been admitted to the hospital — “Down the hall, in room 307.” We’ve known Georgia, Jane’s favorite nurse, ever since my wife entered the hospital in April, 1983.

[...] A nurse’s aide brought us a copy of the regular menu, compared to the one for soft foods that Jane has always used, and we discovered that there isn’t all that much difference between the two.

[...] She’d been interrupted right after the start of the session by a nurse bringing her vitamin C. Recording the session, I’d been quite amazed that a certain frightened portion of Jane’s self could exert such power over the rest of her mental and physical personality. [...]

[...] Margaret, who had been a school nurse, used the Heimlich maneuver: she wrapped her strong arms around me from the back and squeezed. [...]