Trevor Morrison, a patient of Ward One
‘Tell those book people that this book saved my life,’ a comment made by a residing patient on Ward One (oncology) at Wellington Hospital. No, the book did not save her from a speeding bullet, act as a parachute, or contain an alchemist’s secret; it simply saved her from soul-sapping boredom during her hospital stay. Those ‘book people’ she referred to, I am happy to say, are the New Zealand Book Council.
Occasionally the Book Council acquire books that do not need to be sent on to schools, reviewers, or participants in an event and although the staff members would dearly like to build their own little libraries, we believe it is better to gift the books to people who may appreciate them. Therefore, as soon as a reasonable stack accumulates, we send them off to Ward One.
This project started during a conversation with a nurse, who mentioned that a patient had complained bitterly that the only reading material available in the lounge were some out dated Readers Digest magazines. The nurse went on to say that a better selection of books would also benefit visiting family members and friends of patients. Those support people who take their family member/friend to the ward and wait; during the examination, they wait; during a consol, they wait; through treatment; they wait and they wait and think and worry – so there’s no better way to distract them than by reading books such as the New Zealand children’s book, Doggy Doo on my Shoe.
When visiting the ward, I have also seen the large assemblies of Māori and Pacific Island friends and whanau gathered there. While it is an awesome sight to see so much love and support being given to cancer patients, I also see the younger children who have been there for hours, ready to climb the walls with boredom. I would like to say that my mission is to locate more books written in Māori or in the Pacific languages, but I don’t choose what comes into the office. However, that’s not to say that I’ve given up on the idea, and I’m open to donations (hint hint).
I got a better insight as to how books on the ward were regarded when I trooped up there one day and had a brief chat with Health Care Assistant, Annie Pahina (aka the lovable ginga/mother hen/matron/Chief in Command). Everyone knows ‘Annie’ and don’t just take my word for it, you only have to read Sue Garden-Bachop’s book, Who Will Tuck Me In? to see Annie featured as the nurse with the meal tray. It’s not a bad likeness either – as Trevor Morrison (pictured) would agree. Garden-Bachop’s book was written as a tool to prompt discussions amongst families, especially those with young children. Garden-Bachop said, ‘it’s hard to know if children really understand what’s going on, I mean, how do you break into that conversation with them?’ Who Will Tuck Me In? is a not-for-profit product funded by the Cancer Foundation and can be purchased by emailing cancerbooks4@yahoo.co.nz
Because patients and their supporters don’t usually stay long enough to get through a novel, children’s books and young adults’ literature are ideal for the ward. Annie and other staff members gave a few more reasons that I hadn’t considered. For one, patients can sometimes have what is loosely referred to as ‘Chemo-brain’. This is when an intense treatment of chemotherapy or radiation leaves a patient feeling lethargic, so reading material has to be simple, easy to understand, but still entertaining. Secondly, treatment can leave a patient’s vision temporarily impaired, so large print is easier to follow. Finally, children’s and young adults’ books are easy to read aloud.
The last reason particularly resonated with me when I was told about an occasion, late one night, when a nurse on her rounds noticed a father reading aloud to his grown-up daughter in Ward One. The father, who was reading a book from the Kiwibites series, explained that he hadn’t read to her since she was a little girl and never imagined that he would be reading to her as an adult. He added, ‘it doesn’t matter what I read. I think she just likes the sound of my voice; it seems to calm her.’ This story reminded me that sometimes, being read to is just as precious as the act of reading.
Most of us have had the misfortune of experiencing cancer, first-hand, or know someone who has. Cancer has knocked on my whanau’s door too many times for my liking, so I can understand the value of books on the ward. Books offer a form of escapism. Escapism from the reality of medication, treatments and a sterile environment; and just for a while – you simply escape.
‘Tell those book people that this book saved my life,’ a comment made by a residing patient on Ward One (oncology) at Wellington Hospital. No, the book did not save her from a speeding bullet, act as a parachute, or contain an alchemist’s secret; it simply saved her from soul-sapping boredom during her hospital stay. Those ‘book people’ she referred to, I am happy to say, are the New Zealand Book Council.
Occasionally the Book Council acquire books that do not need to be sent on to schools, reviewers, or participants in an event and although the staff members would dearly like to build their own little libraries, we believe it is better to gift the books to people who may appreciate them. Therefore, as soon as a reasonable stack accumulates, we send them off to Ward One.
This project started during a conversation with a nurse, who mentioned that a patient had complained bitterly that the only reading material available in the lounge were some out dated Readers Digest magazines. The nurse went on to say that a better selection of books would also benefit visiting family members and friends of patients. Those support people who take their family member/friend to the ward and wait; during the examination, they wait; during a consol, they wait; through treatment; they wait and they wait and think and worry – so there’s no better way to distract them than by reading books such as the New Zealand children’s book, Doggy Doo on my Shoe.
When visiting the ward, I have also seen the large assemblies of Māori and Pacific Island friends and whanau gathered there. While it is an awesome sight to see so much love and support being given to cancer patients, I also see the younger children who have been there for hours, ready to climb the walls with boredom. I would like to say that my mission is to locate more books written in Māori or in the Pacific languages, but I don’t choose what comes into the office. However, that’s not to say that I’ve given up on the idea, and I’m open to donations (hint hint).
I got a better insight as to how books on the ward were regarded when I trooped up there one day and had a brief chat with Health Care Assistant, Annie Pahina (aka the lovable ginga/mother hen/matron/Chief in Command). Everyone knows ‘Annie’ and don’t just take my word for it, you only have to read Sue Garden-Bachop’s book, Who Will Tuck Me In? to see Annie featured as the nurse with the meal tray. It’s not a bad likeness either – as Trevor Morrison (pictured) would agree. Garden-Bachop’s book was written as a tool to prompt discussions amongst families, especially those with young children. Garden-Bachop said, ‘it’s hard to know if children really understand what’s going on, I mean, how do you break into that conversation with them?’ Who Will Tuck Me In? is a not-for-profit product funded by the Cancer Foundation and can be purchased by emailing cancerbooks4@yahoo.co.nz
Because patients and their supporters don’t usually stay long enough to get through a novel, children’s books and young adults’ literature are ideal for the ward. Annie and other staff members gave a few more reasons that I hadn’t considered. For one, patients can sometimes have what is loosely referred to as ‘Chemo-brain’. This is when an intense treatment of chemotherapy or radiation leaves a patient feeling lethargic, so reading material has to be simple, easy to understand, but still entertaining. Secondly, treatment can leave a patient’s vision temporarily impaired, so large print is easier to follow. Finally, children’s and young adults’ books are easy to read aloud.
The last reason particularly resonated with me when I was told about an occasion, late one night, when a nurse on her rounds noticed a father reading aloud to his grown-up daughter in Ward One. The father, who was reading a book from the Kiwibites series, explained that he hadn’t read to her since she was a little girl and never imagined that he would be reading to her as an adult. He added, ‘it doesn’t matter what I read. I think she just likes the sound of my voice; it seems to calm her.’ This story reminded me that sometimes, being read to is just as precious as the act of reading.
Most of us have had the misfortune of experiencing cancer, first-hand, or know someone who has. Cancer has knocked on my whanau’s door too many times for my liking, so I can understand the value of books on the ward. Books offer a form of escapism. Escapism from the reality of medication, treatments and a sterile environment; and just for a while – you simply escape.
by Charlie Holland, Events and Touring Manager for the New Zealand Book Council
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