A constant opportunity for will-strengthening comes to many a nurse during the early weeks and months of training in the necessity of going on despite the sheer tiredness, the weary backs and swollen, tender, aching feet. The one who means to “see it through” disregards them as far as possible on duty, gets all the out-of-doors her time permits, takes special exercises to strengthen weak spots, and relaxes her body while she reads or studies or visits in her off-duty time. In the end, not only does her body adjust itself to the new work, but her will has become a better ally for the next demands upon it; her endurance is remarkably increased.
When she can accept hardship, drudgery, weariness of mind and body and perhaps of soul, the nagging of unco-operative patients, and the demands on her sympathies of the suffering; when she can meet these as challenges to develop a strong will—a will not only to endure, but to find happiness and give service through it all—then the nurse has learned the art of making every circumstance a stepping-stone to mastery and achievement.
CHAPTER XIV
THE NURSE OF THE FUTURE
The student of life and of the sciences which deal with the origin and development of the human race, and with the relations of man to man and nation to nation—such sciences as biology and anthropology, sociology and ethics and history—comes to the conclusion that life exists for the development of mind. And mind is not merely intellect, but the only gateway we know to character, to soul. The deepest students of human science see no reason for life except as it “evolves” a perfect mind—man’s goal, his ideal. And this visioned perfect mind is one which adjusts itself without friction to the body, making it fulfil the laws of health that it may help and not hinder mind’s progress; one which adjusts itself to people and things, co-operating with other minds to develop manners and customs and laws of the most satisfactory community living; one which forces things to be servants of its will; one which makes harmony of life by fulfilling the laws of the soul as well as of the intellect and of the body.
If we believe that life exists for the development of mind into a force of intellect and character and soul, then we need not ask why a nurse should know something of the laws of mind. She does not ask why she should know anatomy or pathology. Her work is dependent upon such knowledge. But if the center of life, the thing which makes the body a living, moving, acting agent instead of a clod, is mind; if the one thing which makes a difference between animal life and mineral and vegetable life is consciousness, i. e., mind; and if everything that affects that body, its organ, affects mind also—then surely no nurse can afford to learn only the rules of repair or of keeping in order the instrument of consciousness, without knowing what effect her efforts have on the mind itself. It is as though an ignorant maid accepted a piano as merely a piece of furniture to be kept clean and shining, and in her zeal to that end scrubbed the keyboard with soap and water which, dripping down into the body of the instrument, swells and damages its felts, rusts and corrodes its keys, and ruins its notes. When she knows that she may thus make impossible the beautiful sounds she has heard it give, and that the more carefully the keyboard is handled the more sure is the beauty resulting, her care is to keep it as free as possible of dust, to see that the top is down and the keyboard covered when she sweeps—and to clean it hereafter in such a way as to never injure its tone.
The nurse has a much greater function than merely to help in saving the body and keeping its machinery in order. If the aim of life is the strengthening and perfecting of the mind—that “urge” of life, then surely the nurse’s big aim will be to help establish such health of body as leads toward health of mind. In the average man or woman this vital urge becomes temporarily blocked by the very weakness of the body it urges. The body must give the life-flame some fuel, or it dies out; but with very little fuel it flickers on, waiting, hoping for the more that it may burn strongly again. In the cases the nurse handles very often the “vital spark” has been poorly fed by the disabled body, and so discouragement or depression, or “loss of grip” results, or the flame continues to shine brightly with whatever little sustenance it receives, and so encourages the body to greater effort for it; or sinks into embers, glowing steadily though dully; or it burns wildly, recklessly—it becomes what we call “wild fire,” that has no direction and no purpose save to burn up everything it can find.
In other words, the nurse deals with those in whom the “urge” is weakened—the depressed and discouraged; with those whose spirits never flag in their steady shining—those brave souls we could almost worship; and those others who hold grimly on with quiet grit and courage, but with no cheer; and with the unstable ones of neuropathic or psychopathic tendency who become hysteric or maniacal.
What will the nurse do for them all? Will not an understanding of how to recall the ambition to live, the will to get well, and the grit to see the thing through, be an incalculable asset.