THE OPEN-AIR CURE.
EXAMINED BY THE GOVERNOR
His Excellency Sir Reginald and Lady Talbot expressed a desire some time ago to be permitted once again to see how consumption is combated at the Broadmeadows Sanatorium, and how patients enjoy the open air treatment on a bleak day. A visit was recently arranged.
His Excellency was received by the medical superintendent (Dr Henderson) and the matron (Miss Harkness), and Dr Norris (Chairman of the Board of Public Health), and was shown over every department and informed as to the history and achievement of the home. The chief fact is that the sanatorium has already saved between 400 and 500 lives. Invalids to this number have been admitted, treated and discharged since the home was established, in 1905, by the Premier (Mr Bent) and the Minister of Health (Mr Cameron), and nearly all of them are still earning their livelihood. In the ordinary course most of them would by now have been either dead or dying, and, in accordance with the well established history of this “white plague,” they would have infected and probably brought at least half as many upon the diseased, list. Cured, they have become missionaries of the right living, and this, Sir Reginald learnt, is to be bracketed with relief as the main object in view. The founders of the Greenvale hygeia, equally with its managers, the members of the Board of Health, contemplate that every person as he leaves aball carry with him a knowledge of the plain truths that would (in practice) enormously reduce, if not abolish, the scourge, and a habit of cleanliness, exercise, diet, and personal conduct must yield proselytes.
The success of the regimen was quite obvious to the visitors. Three years ago, when Sir Reginald Talbot saw the place in its infancy, there were only between 30 and 35 beds; in November, 1906, the accommodation was increased to 70; recently, by the direction of the Premier, two additional frame structures, to receive eight patients, have been put up.
The men and the women on the day of the vice-regal visit lived in strict accordance with the routine that is to secure their conversion from decrepit victims of tubercle into profitable citizens. At 7 o’clock they had a first draught of milk, hot or cold according to preferences; then a short, sharp shower-bath – a cold shower bath. At 8 breakfast—porridge and toast, toast and milk, or other easily-digested nourishing food; and the wiser and most obedient among them carefully and slowly masticated even the porridge. Then for at least half an hour rest, followed by medical attention, the taking of temperatures, the destruction of sputum at an incenerator. Exercises and tasks as ordered occupied nine-tenths until close on midday; the men were to dig, how, weed, and assist generally in the grounds, or to walk slowly uphill in a zig-zag course, or clean lamps and knives, mop the wards and bathrooms; the women (in loose garments—corsets are prohibited) were engaged in bed-making, dish-washing, the cleaning of silver and glass. An hour’s work preceded dinner. The visitors arrived at the time the second meal is being enjoyed – soup, fish, meats, and appetising variety – with milk – always milk – on demand. (The milk bill is over £500 a year.) Rest was again enjoined; then the doctor’s examination, light work or exercise till half-past 4; the thermometer and the pulse records were made, succeeded by sixty minutes laying down, reading unexciting, cheerful books; tea; another rest, another visit by the physician, another examination of temperature and heart-beats; a milk supper at eight, and to bed at 9 o’clock. Ten hours’ sleep is enjoyed – and usually enjoyed – all this either under the sky or in rooms free on all or all but one side to the breezes of the day or night.
Lady Talbot had opportunities for noting that the women are cheerful, and hopeful. In conversation they expressed their surprise that “draughts” cure and do not kill; their delight at quick growth and strength – many consumptives who have (in stuffy homes, where every breath of fresh air is treated as an enemy) convinced themselves that any exertion would be deadly, find in a fortnight, under the kind but imperative ruling of the medical staff.
One or two, during the intervals for rest, were seen reading “The Consumptive’s Bible,” a pamphlet in which Dr Norris has provided the Twenty Commandments that would (if universally obeyed) prevent the spread of the most fatal of all scourges. “Do not kiss,” ,’shave,” “use wraps or even hot-water bottles to maintain warmth rather than sit huddled over a fire” are typical of the rules.
The visitors were very interested in the system, which has already justified itself so thoroughly, and during the tour of the shelters provided against rain, the cubicle that ensures free currents even of the coldest air, and the administrative block (just being enlarged to meet the extra demands on the kitchen), congratulated Dr Norris, Dr Henderson, and Miss Harkness on the good work which the good work which the Broadmeadows Sanatorium is accomplishing. Especially noticeable was the intelligence with which the sufferers had grasped the central truths – that the making of new blood ensures the defeat of the microbe of tubercle, and that the best repayment a patient can make for his own recovery is “to assist in preventing the spread of the disease to others.”
Sources: Tungamah and Lake Rowan Express and St. James Gazette; Thu 11 Jun 1908 (Page 3)
https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/270185551
& The Argus (Melbourne, Vic); Tue 9 June 1908 (Page 5)
https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/10660263
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