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Many years ago when I was doing my nurse training I came across this on one of the geriatric wards I was working on, it was pinned onto the notice board, I have never forgotten it. The reason I am mentioning it is I have now come across the response to this by a nurse named Liz Ogben. But first for anyone whom has not read it here is the original poem written by Phyilis McCormak:

The following poem was among the possessions of an aged lady who died in the geriatric ward of a hospital. There is no information available to her name, when she died or who she was. At times we all lose patience with the elderly. This should help us to have more sympathy and understanding;

"Crabbit Old Woman"

What do you see, what do you see?
Are you thinking, when you look at me-
A crabbit 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 do wish you'd try.
Who seems not to notice the things that you do
And forever is loosing a stocking or shoe.
Who, unresisting or not: lets you do as you will
With bathing and feeding the long day fill.
Is that what you're thinking,
Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes,
nurse, you're looking at me.
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 small child of 10 with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who loved one another-
A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon
now her lover she'll meet,
A bride soon at 20- my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
At 25 now I have young of my own
Who need me to build a secure happy home;
A woman of 30, my young now grow fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last;
At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn;
At 50 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 at the future, I shudder with dread,
For my young are all rearing young of their own.
And I think of the years and the love that I've known;
I'm an old woman now and nature is cruel-
Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart,
But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,
And now and again a battered heart swells,
I remember the joy, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living life over again.
I think of the years all too few-gone to fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last-
So open your eyes, nurse open and see,
Not a crabbit old woman, look closer-
See Me...


Stephanie.

This is the nurse's reply;

What do we see, you ask, what do we see?
Yes, we are thinking when we look at thee!
We may seem hard when we hurry and fuss,
But there are so many of you,
and too few of us.
We would like far more time to sit by you and talk,
To bath you and feed you and help you to walk.
To hear of your lives and things you have done;
Your childhood, your husband, your daughter, your son.
But time is against us, there's too much to do-
Patients too many, and nurses too few.
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 now your end is so near.
But nurses are people with feelings as well,
And when we're together you'll often hear tell
Of dearest 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 joy 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 so few of us........


Stephanie.

Very good, very true and very touching.

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Gloria

I'd be dangerous with a brain.

It certainly makes you see a person who has not always been old.

I remember reading both of these when I was a YTS trainee many years ago. I think it made me look at the people I was caring for differently almost from day one.
I think everyone working in nursing or care should be reminded of the 1st poem on a regular basis, just to jog their memories of why they are doing it.

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Mel

Searching for lost relatives? Win the Lottery!

It brings tears to your eyes - especially when I think about my dad and how I use to wonder what was in his head when he sat so quiet.

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Maureen
If you can't fight, wear a big 'at