Lethbridge: A coal company funds nursing

Sir Alexander Galt founded the NorthWest Coal and Navigation Company in 1882. His interesting partners were W.H. Smith (yes, the book people) and William Lethbridge, after whom, of course, the town was named. The Galt Mines formed the foundation of Lethbridge, which in its beginnings had been called Coaltown and it was in conjunction with these mines that the hospital was built in 1891.

The original building was a gracious two-storey affair with an upstairs balcony and a downstairs verandah. Dr. Frank Mewburn was its Superintendent and it boasted four nurses and three other employees, to look after a planned six patients--which quickly rose to fifteen. The top floor of the hospital was used for staff accommodation which was an advantage (or disadvantage, depending on your point of view) for any emergencies arising in the hospital.

The financing for the running of the hospital was quite interesting for the time. Twenty-five cents per month came from railway and coal company employee deductions, the government grant was twenty-nine cents per day for each free patient, the town of Lethbridge contributed four hundred dollars a year, and some more affluent patients paid their own way.

A new hospital was built in 1907 with equal backing from the Galt family and the city of Lethbridge. It was a red brick structure and, accommodating sixty-five patients and a nurses' residence, was built at the same time. Leah Poelman's book , White Caps and Red Roses tells a funny story of having the Prime Minister, Sir Wilfred Laurier, come to open the new hospital and being kept waiting on the front step while somebody went looking for the door key.

The Galt Hospital Training School had rules and regulations that were as strict here as in any other school. The students did get a small stipend for the incredible number of hours they put in--eight dollars a month as juniors, ten dollars in their second year, and twelve in their third. The list of clothing they had to supply to begin their training is amazing. According to Poelman, they needed two plain dresses, eight large white aprons, a supply of plain underwear (including two coloured underskirts--washable), two large laundry bags, a pair of "common-sense" boots, a thimble, scissors, watch and a table napkin ring.

Whatever their upbringing before they arrived at the school--probably fairly sheltered for many--they quickly learned to bathe miners, clean up gruesome operating theatres, and attend autopsies, often very early in their training--probably a good method of weaning out the weak of stomach.

Maternity patients went to a special maternity home run by a mid-wife. Nurses in training spent a month there on day duty and another month there on night duty as part of their training.

There was a high dropout rate in the early days of the school. In the 1913 class, of the fifteen who originally enrolled, only three completed the training. The 1914 class managed three out of eleven who began and, a few years later, only one of nine graduated. For many girls at the time it was something to do while they waited to get married, but for others the long twelve-hour working days, followed by the training lectures were probably just too much.
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