Beneath The Skin

What do you see nurse, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you look at me,
A carbbit old woman, not very wise.
Uncertain of habit with far away eyes.
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply
When you say in a loud voice “I wish you’d try”.
I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still
As I rise at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I’m a child of ten with a father and mother
Brothers and sisters who love one another.
A bride soon at twenty my heart gives a leap
At twenty-five now I have young of my own
Who need me to build a secure happy home.
At fifty once more babies play around my knee
Again we know children my loved one and me
Dark days are upon me my husband is dead.
I look to the future I shudder with dread.
My young ones are busy rearing young of their own
And I think of the years and the love I have known
I’m an old woman now and nature is cruel
Tis her jest to make old age look like fool
The body it crumples, grace and vigor depart
There is a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain
And I’m loving the living all over again
And I think of the years all too few, gone too fast.
And I accept the stark fact that nothing will last.
So open your eyes nurse, open and see
Not a crabbit old woman, look close and see me.

This was written by an old lady in a geriatric ward of London Hospital and found in her locker after she died by staff who thought her incapable of writing.

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NURSES REPLY

What do we see, you ask?
What do we see?
Yes we are thinking when we look at thee.
We may seem too hard when we hurry and fuss,
But there’s many of you, and too few of us.
We would like far more time to sit by you and talk,
To bathe you and feed you and help you to walk.
To hear of your lives and the things that you’ve done,
Your childhood, your husband, your daughter, your son
We grieve when we see you so sad and alone
With nobody near you, no friends of your own.
We feel all your pain, and know of your fear
That nobody cares though your end is so near,
But nurses are people with feelings as well,
And when we’re together you’ll oft hear tell
Of the dear old gran in the very end bed,
And the lovely old dad, and the things that he said.
We speak with compassion and love and feel sad
When we think of your lives and the joys that you’ve had.
When the time has arrived for you to depart
You leave us behind with an ache in our heart
When you sleep the long sleep, no more worry or care,
There are other old people, and we must be there.
So please understand if we hurry and fuss –
There are many of you and too few of us.
By Burni Abbott, Prince Henry’s Hospital.