We were going to devote the whole of this article to the question of diet in sickness, but our space is more than half taken up by preliminary matters, so we must be brief.
The question of feeding invalids is always a troublesome one. People who are sick and are in bed all day, lose their appetite, take violent dislikes to some articles, and develop an abnormal desire for dietetic curiosities which they would never eat when they are healthy.
We remember attending a woman who refused to eat anything we put before her. We tried milk, very nice puddings, and chickens, and we do not know what not. But, no, all to no purpose! She would eat nothing. The matter was becoming serious, for the poor woman had had nothing to our knowledge for three days, and we were thinking whether forcible means would have to be used to give her nourishment. But the extraordinary part of it was that she gained strength and was recovering from her disease by rapid strides.
But we solved the mystery by entering the room suddenly and finding her munching a little green apple and a tartlet! Apparently she had developed an extraordinary desire for green apples, pastry and cocoanuts! Knowing that had she asked to be allowed to have these things, she would have been refused, she worried a lady-visitor into buying the things for her. And she had been living on green apples, pastry and cocoanuts for four days! When asked what quality she so much fancied in this strange dietary, she said—
“The apples are so nice and sour, and the cocoanut is so scrunchy!”
Whatever you put before an invalid in the way of food must look appetising. We have seen great greasy chops, half cold, served up to an invalid—a meal which would disgust a labourer. You cannot be too careful about the appearance of food given to people whose appetites are not what they should be. Let the cloth be spotlessly white, let the glass be nicely cleaned with a glass cloth and no stray fluffs left upon it, let the plate be hot and the cover—never forget the cover from a dish given to an invalid—brightly polished, and let the dish smell nice and be tastefully arranged. Never serve up food in large quantities except to convalescents, who never seem to be satisfied. You may think these details are trifling, but it is attention to these trifles which distinguishes a good from a bad nurse.
Then as to the food itself. Of course you must never give an invalid anything without first asking the physician whether he may have it. We shall never forget calling to see a patient who had typhoid fever. It was our second visit, and as we entered the room, we saw the patient—a young girl—vigorously attacking a beef-steak! And the nurse—she was a trained nurse—looking on with approval. We asked why the girl had been allowed meat when we had expressly said that she was under no circumstances to have any other food than milk. The nurse replied—
“Oh, sir, I do not believe that patients with typhoid fever should be fed on milk. I think it is far better to give them solid food!”
We are afraid that we lost our temper at this criminal disobedience. What answer we gave we do not remember, but we secured the nurse’s discharge within an hour. Whether it was due to this unfortunate affair or not we cannot say, but certainly this was one of the worst cases of typhoid that we have seen.
Whatever you give to an invalid must be of the very best. Let your custards be made with new-laid eggs—oh, you may laugh! but custards are sometimes made with bad eggs. Let the chicken be young and the fish fresh and nicely boiled, or if it is fried let it be nice and brown and free from grease.