WINWICK HOSPITAL WARRINGTON

THE STANDARD

11th March, 1972Vol. 1. No. 40.

EDITORIAL COMMENT

Our present Hospital Management Committee met for the last time this month. The Editors and Publications Committee of The Standard wish to express their thanks for the support we have received since our inception.

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Social Therapy Review

The past week saw two very successful Geriatric Evenings which were held in the female gym. The first, on Tuesday evening, was mainly for the ladies although quite a few men did look in on us, Entertainment once again was very kindly presented by the St. Helens Morris Dancing Troupe. I think we could now safely, "Put them on the tea-list". We are yet again very grateful to them for their time so freely given. I'm sure they enjoy coming to us as much as we enjoy having them. Entertainment was also forthcoming from the staff and patients who worked together to perform a P.E. display, and a Scots-dance, the Soc. Hop., which incidentally we made up ourselves. Both received a warm ovation and it was reward enough for us to be told afterwards by the patients who took part, that they thought it was a good idea for them to entertain our older population and were enthusiastic to repeat their performance as soon as possible.

The second, on Friday evening, for the male geriatrics was a very welcome visit from the "Warrington Silver Junior Band", who played for 1 hours in the gym. Public performance for this refreshing group of youngsters is nothing new, in fact, you might call them internationally well known. They paid a visit, last year, to Warrington's twin-town, in Germany, Hilden. We should like to thank them very much and hope to hear from them again soon.

Our football team is now receiving coaching as practised by all the first-division teams. It was explained last week that they were playing 'forwards against backs', which meant nothing to me until I was told that the team split up and played on different sides thus forwards against backs. Apparently this is common practice among the more well-known sides and perhaps accounts for the success they enjoy. Training tactics or no they are proving to be the greatest, lets hope it stays that way.

K. Appleton.

Social Club News

Tenders are required for the painting and decorating of the club rooms. They consist of lounge, games room and dance room.

Estimates to be forwarded to the Secretary.

Closing date 9 p.m. 16th March, 1972.

L. Jones

SNOOKER

Winwick 'B'vSt. Mary's 'B'

Winwick lost by 3

TABLE TENNIS

Winwick 'A'0AEV 'A'10
Winwick 'B'0G.P.O.10

DARTS

Winwick4Forresters3

1st round League K.O. competition.

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TICKETS ARE STILL AVAILABLE FOR THE BOWLS DANCE
MARCH 17th 1972     PRICE £1.00

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Communication No. 2

I wish it to be published that my article in Issue 38 was in no way intended to be jocular, but taken in all seriousness. This is to counteract any other impression that may be gained from the Editorial of Issue 39.

I could quote numerous examples to support my doubts about relative influences right up to date. There is a place for jocularity and light relief in our communications, but there is a very fundamental need for seriousness, truth, trust and understanding.

D. E. Wallace.

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For the staff who are wrestling with the problems of slimming, aid comes this week in the form of a request for people who are interested in forming a Weightwatchers Club to contact D. Winship, F.1 Down.

Publications Committee.

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With the hospital abuzz with rumour and counter rumour regarding ward changes cf senior ward staff, we hope to print full details shortly.

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May we congratulate Sharon Lynch and Chris Clark on their recent engagement.

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We believe congratulations are in order to the following staff who have been recently promoted:

J. Bate
Sister C. Gleeson.

Publications Committee
Continuing our resettlement policy for redundant staff locker keys, we pass on a list of spare keys given to us by C/N L. Bayliss, M. 3 UP.

2A 0068
2A 0386
2A 0391
2A 0394

Publications Committee

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Painting as an Aid to Treatment Part III

In classifying paintings such as "fragmentation" or "preservation" can be physically seen, either in the fragmented nature of the composition, or in the repetition of these fragments. In a dynamic sense a comparison can be made the smaller the fragments the more the patient is withdrawn, until you get the dots of the patient whose contact with reality is just enough to make a mark on the paper.

Similarly stylized behaviour can show itself in the rigid formation of these fragments, persisting in a group of paintings. Depression can be seen in a reduction to a series of basic forms expressing negativism and apathy, for instance, the elimination of all forms except a hard empty horizon, or more familiarly, a mountain barrier covering the paper from left to right, blank, implacable, uninhibited and colourless, despite the frequent use of primary colours. The more profound the depression, the higher the mountains. When it lifts a little with treatment the sun appears behind the mountains, and a little path reaches up towards them, and with relief of the illness they lower and soften.

The symbolic significance of the mountain barrier form can be examined in endless ways. Psychoanalytic and interpretive reasoning can show its relevance in an illness of this nature.

In painting at most times, and in countless patients it communicates the existence of a mood and measures the length and depth of the mood. All psychotic illness, neurosis, and psychopathic states, forms and structures which are sometimes characteristic and which can always assist the understanding and treatment of patients.

From time to time one painting alone can be as good as half a dozen frustrating interviews, particularly in the case of mute and unco-operative patients. The paintings must not be seen though in isolation from the safety of a desk or clinic. The order of appearance of these forms may be of paramount importance - a patient may obliterate an image (a black cloud may cover a savage tiger for instance). The rationale of Art Therapy is to free the process of development by facilitating the assimulation of unconscious contents.

B. Naylor.

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Come, Fly With Me

Who of us has not dreamed dreams of a magic carpet which would transport us high above rooftops to places unknown. That mine was silver and shining and shared with many others, in no way detracted from an inward bubbling sparkle as I walked silently along the magic carpet and sat down. In minutes it took off and on that December morning, only my eyes told me so, it was so seemingly effortless and smooth. Houses and country slid rapidly away until the sea beneath us was 33,000 feet away.

Two hundred people were aboard, six to a row and I could see two babies slung overhead, each side of the gangway, in inflatable carrycots, securely strapped in. Quite a number of passengers were Australia bound, George, a gentleman seated with my husband and I, was returning home to Melbourne after a five month visit to relatives. He was seventy-five and had been in Australia ten years: a very pleasant Scotsman, like several others he was travelling alone so we invited him to join us until our ways divided at Sydney.

Lunch was very welcome for it was also our breakfast and dinner was nearly five hours further on before refuelling at Bahrain.

Whilst the others talked I looked down on thick. clouds, a mass of puff balls sparkling brilliantly in the strong sunshine for we were close to clear blue skies. For twenty minutes I was spellbound as we passed over the glittering teeth of Europe, the Alps, piercing the mists to reach for the sunshine. To observe the high places from above is full of wonder, many of the peaks seemed just below us cloaked in snow mantles, with ribbons of glaciers clearly visible. They were majestic and mighty and only in viewing them from above can one appreciate their panorama and magnitude and understand too, why so few have successfully challenged their impregnability. Germany, Yugoslavia and Austria were left behind, as we headed for Turkey.

Time passed surprisingly swiftly, three hostesses dressed in white blouses and different tartan kilts served us with drinks and we sampled Martini whilst George had good old beer. The baby swung easily above us for first one then another touched his crib and kept it rocking gently. Below us a sea of whitest cloud obliterated the earth and already the sun slanted behind us in our eastern travel.

Our company was of many nationalities, across from us were two Chinese boys travelling alone, one about fifteen, the other I judged to be eleven and was fast asleep, I listened to the murmur of voices and occasional laughter and in general a happy air pervaded the cabin. My watch said 2.00 p.m. but we were losing time and already local time neared 5.00 p.m., darkness overtook us rapidly and we continued our very tranquil journey in the black velvet of night.

In the small hours we touched lightly down at Bahrain and a warm soft breeze caressed us refreshingly as we walked to the lounge. There were a few shops selling watches, perfume, radios etc. and duty free liquor but I was unimpressed and preferred to wander in the courtyard, open to the stars and the breeze. There was also an intriguing signpost giving the mileage to many capital cities.

Our forty-five minute pause was soon ever and shortly after take-off red lights at infrequent intervals puzzled me until our new captain informed us we were passing over oil wells at Dubai. Because of the strife in Pakistan we swept out over the Arabian Sea and crossed India well to the south and dawn broke, a very beautiful dawn which suffused us all in a flattering pink glow, whilst we were still above the Bay of Bengal.

Our 'hop' of 3,700 miles from Bahrain was almost complete and the captain's voice told us that in a few minutes we would land at Bangkok and that the time was 1.15 a.m. G.M.T., 8.15 a.m. local time. That was the swiftest night I had ever known and it decided me to bring my watch up to date! Disappointingly, we could only survey the wonderful sunshine from the cabin window for we were not permitted to disembark, but there was much of interest to be seen for it is a large airport. There were many planes of all nationalities and how efficiently the services moved in to refuel and re-victual our transport. On approach the country looked very flat, fields in rows like strips of plaster and water canaled to maximum irrigation. As we gained height on leaving I caught sight of a main highway stretching east as far as I could see, which was quite considerable.

Two hours later we were in Singapore and countrywise it is very beautiful, green luxuriant tropical growth, banana trees at the roadside, lofty graceful coconut trees in all sorts of odd places loaded with coconuts, colour everywhere, flowers, flags, fountains, clothes and cars. Everyone was either in a tremendous hustle or a group would sit in a ring, shrill voices rising for dominance. We spent time at the waterfront, choc-a-block with shipping and stayed there through a thunderstorm which relieved the intense humidity. In the actual city a vast building programme progresses in every direction, quite a bit of it is tasteful but there are also the large square concrete boxes of offices surrounding ground floor shops. In all, this contrasted sharply with the shanty towns we'd passed on our leisurely eight mile journey fron the airport, which we were told, has only been opened eight months and is as yet incomplete. The Malays are a handsome race, fine boned and dainty in build and the helpful are most helpful. From 300 miles out we coasted softly through thick dark clouds and touchdown at Sydney showed us an Australia not advertised in brochures. Skies were black wherever we looked, an eighty mile an hour gale tore at everything and everyone incessantly during our twenty hour stay and across the road from the excellent motel where we stayed overnight the grey turbulent sea lifted itself to a tower before crashing down to the land; truly a cruel sea.

The bed looked temptingly inviting for my eyes felt like tennis balls from lack of sleep, but it would have proved irresistible had I ever sat on it, and we wanted in our limited stay to visit friends who left England seven years ago. We called a taxi and sighing for the winter coat I'd so airily spurned to bring, away we went and we had a hilarious ride, talking and laughing till our destination, he was an older man kindly and friendly. The wonderful welcome from our friends made our effort well worth while for we arrived unannounced. Back at the hotel, once more we re-packed, showered, which was absolute luxury, followed by a most welcome five hours uninterrupted sleep. Came 6.00 a.m. and the taxi back to the hustle of airport and jets and soon we were above the black clouds into the blue sky and sunshine once more. The explanation of our icy arrival was a cyclone nearby.

In the little we saw of it I did not care for Sydney but that many others do was apparent, it is a vast sprawling city with all the sophistication of any city. House prices are astronomical, there is work there, I was told and of course demand creates inflated prices. Oh yes! I saw the harbour, bridge and opera house from the air as we prepared to land, it all looked so tiny against the sprawling background of the city itself and in that icy screaming wind I lost all desire to stand on Sydney Bridge!

From here on whilst my husband and the businessman next to him were in deep conversation I looked out of the windows, absorbed totally in the Australia of my vision. I saw lakes of salt, whitely reflecting the sun's glare, I saw desert, I saw mountains which appeared black but which I knew to be tree covered, rivers clearly distinguishable by the meandering greenery either side their flow, then came the handkerchiefs of gardens and different coloured dots of house roofs as Melbourne was just ahead.

Minutes later on yet another jet we were swiftly on our way to Adelaide and again I could just look my fill at the vastness of changing scene below. Refreshment was unwanted and tiredness forgotten - this was the real Australia, so much of it and such little occupation. Those who wrest a living in the harshness of the bush, I salute; it must require great strength and immense courageous determination but I do not doubt it will have compensations that all the cities of the world could not offer.

Adelaide was a small dainty airport after our treks through the others and after 'phoning our arrival to our family we happened on the airport cafe, we feasted, yes feasted on crisply fried bacon and delicious sausages, never have I thought they could look or taste so good for it was a long time since we had dined with our friends in Sydney.

So we came to our fifth and last plane and I viewed its propellers with suspicion, it looked so small after the jets but this was our last hours ride, I leapt to the steps! How beautiful the green and blue Spencer Gulf looked below me, clear enough to see the kelp through it, there was not a cloud in sight and the sun shone brilliantly. Suddenly I saw the mountain - their mountain and the aerial photograph our son sent us long ago came alive before our eyes and as we circled to land I knew they were watching it. In this small town of Whyella, on the edge of the bush few people awaited its arrival and as we taxied in we saw the three for whom we'd crossed the world - the most wonderful sight of all.

C. Kirchin.

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This week we we welcome:-

Mr. S. BondNursing Assistant (Pre pupil)
Miss J.A. ChristyPre student
Mrs. M. HeatonNursing Assistant.

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Nursing News: Stop Press

Ward changes for Sisters and Charge Nurses with effect from Monday, 13th March, 1972:-

Sister C. GleesontoFemale 1 Up
Sister C. GleesontoFemale 1 Up
Sister I. ReidtoNight Duty
Sister J. LowetoFemale 5 Down
Sister M. KettletoFemale Infirmary
 
C.N. P. BolandtoFemale 2 Up
C.N. C. BreslintoFemale 7 Up
C.N. G. HarrisontoMale 4 Up
C.N. B. AthertontoMale 4 Down
C.N. H. EveresttoMale 8 Down

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We report with regret that we are to lose the services of four members of the Hospital Management Committee, Alderman L. Ball, Mr. H. Staley Fox, Dr. E. H. Moore, and Mr. J. Vardy. This is consequent upon amalgamation with Warrington and District Group.

It is a well-known fact that we all dislike change but when change means the loss of good and respected people, especially those who have given so much of their time to this hospital this dislike is heightened. However, we shall not bid our farewells to these members in this issue.

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We are pleased to be able to include a Nursing News section this week and intend it to be a regular feature. This has resulted from discussions with Miss Coppack, Head of Nursing Services and we wish to express our appreciation to her, and also to Mrs. Elce, who has kindly agreed to communicate the information to the magazine staff.

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