Not for Me to Judge

By Tom Smith

This is story of the life of our wonderful life as a counting couple and 69 married years, spoiled only by the NHS including rape of my wife by a female nurse, but included threats and total lack of real nursing. Withholding medication and equipment. Thousands of pounds wasted on her just because they would not listen or respect the elderly. confined to a hospital bed when she could have been allowed to sleep in a normal bed and walk to and from the toilet .Complaints got nowhere. Documents enclosed prove this.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Dec 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665595322

Tom Smith

​Tom Smith is een van die leraars by Fontainebleau Gemeenskapskerk. Hy studeer aanvanklik by RAU en behaal sy meesters- en doktorsgraad aan die Universiteit van Pretoria. Hy is getroud met Lollie en hulle het twee kinders. Tom het al drie boeke uitgegee en hou van studeer. Hy bly in Randburg, Johannesburg. 

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© 2022 Tom Smith. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/02/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-9533-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-9532-2 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Preface

Chapter 1

Toddlers to leaving school

Chapter 2

From nineteen forty-four

Chapter 3

This is a life-changing time for me

Chapter 4

Wedding bells

Chapter 5

We become a family

Chapter 6

Complete change to self-employment

Chapter 7

Retired but keep busy

Chapter 8

2013 – 2019

Written in 2018

last day.

Preface

I have only the truth to tell. I hope that it will help other elderly patients avoid what my dear wife had to go through with regard to the National Health Service. Just because I dare make genuine complaints. Or GP’s not doing their job properly. Originally written for my family, but I feel the public have a right to know how cruel some staff can be to go so far as LIES, THREATS AND RAPE.

I acknowledge that the rotten apples are very few. But they should be acknowledged by The NHS and removed. The A&E and specialist wards are brilliant, it is the general medical wards that need discipline.

Anyone after a few days can do TPR and blood pressure, give out meals and also clean a person after going BO. In my nursing days we used hemp to wipe their bottoms, but they were ALWAYS properly cleaned and washed. It is Nursing as in staying to see the patient is fed, bathed. In my time EVERY patient was bathed once a week, not so now even though a shower with a chair instead of a high bath.

Chapter 1

Toddlers to leaving school

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I was born on the sixth of April, nineteen thirty. My mother wanted a girl as she already had six boys. I was born in the ‘Workhouse’, and my brother told me it was horrible whilst the whole family were there.

My future wife ANABEL was born on the twenty-third of September nineteen thirty, the younger of two sisters.

During my infancy, I had scarlet fever and was in the fever hospital. Diphtheria. I slept in my parent’s bed, only two bedrooms and four boys to a bed for my brothers. I imagined giant rats running around, and pictures of Fox and hounds appeared to be moving, with hounds chasing the fox. Diphtheria, because of the river running past our cottage in street. It acted as the town sewer. As children, we played in the river when it was just steam, but when heavy rains came, it rose several feet to the road level and then raced across the road. I also suffered from rickets, due to a very poor diet. Where the norm was to break the leg bone and put the leg in irons attached to a boot. My father would not allow that, so I had to try and walk like Charlie Chaplin. But if I tried to run, my right foot would cross in front of my left foot and trip me up. Other children never laughed or taunted me. During my infant school years, I attended a clinic where they checked on me by walking barefoot on a carpet regularly.

Annabel had problems of her own such as wearing her sister’s cast-off shoes, which deformed her feet as ... was of a smaller stature anyway.

She had to have a gland in her neck drained; it could not be removed. No tablets were available then, so she had the problem of having to make an effort to ‘get up and go’. She was not so happy at school because of her feet problems and not into sport or PE but was good at grammar and liked knitting. Me and my brothers would also have boils and pincsels, (spelling). Pincsels had a core that had to be enticed by having a piece of bread in muslin after being dipped in boiling water and wrung out. Put onto the pincsel. There was also ringworm, a skin complaint.

I enjoyed infant school as much as I can remember. Guy said I started at age three because we were a very large and very poor family. Using a slate board and chalk to write with. We used to lay on our desks at dinner time and, with a feather pulled from the pillow, try to keep it floating in the air by blowing. I also painted a screen that acted as a shop to learn money and sums, by buying or selling and giving change, the girls used it as a house to learn about cleaning. Also, it was used at Christmas when we were told to hold a fishing line over the screen and tell them your name and find a present on the line when withdrawn. At some time when there was a sports day, my brothers spent several days teaching me to walk in a sack for the sack race. They were making sure my toes were right in each corner of the sack, and of course, I won a box of lead soldiers. When I looked for my dad to show him what I had won, I found him fighting outside of the beer tent, so I crept away ashamed and went home. When very young, Mum was washing my face when dad came in drunk and started telling Mum she was not washing me the correct way, then the next thing she was kneeling with my dad standing over her with his hands around her neck.

I also remember more than once dragging him in after he collapsed at the front door. I remember having a large black bag in front of my face and being told to breathe in; this was when having my teeth checked. One or two years later, I was sitting in a chair on the teachers’ desk with a gas lamp above me, and I was slapped on my face as the dentist said. `Open your mouth wider". I passed with flying colours when tested for my sums by the head lady of the girl’s school we were part of. Being asked to recite a full table then numbers at random such as six times seven. Tables then went up to twelve times twelve. My time in the Boys’ school from age seven till fourteen was not so happy. Because I was unable to be any good at sport or sing, I was ‘not’ in the headmaster’s good books. He wanted to show off his school at sport; as choir master, he wanted boys who could sing well. Also, an older brother brought the blackboard down on his head after the head went to hit him over the head for what he thought he was talking about during an exam. It was the other boy talking and Dick. saw the head and ducked, so the other lad got the hiding. He, my brother, jumped up and ran out of the school, bringing the blackboard down on the headmaster’s head. It was two weeks of negotiating with a promise of no punishment before returning to school. We had hymns and prayers morning, noon and night. On Ash Wednesday, we all attended a church service in the morning; we all took flowers, as many as we could get our hands-on. During the service, we would parade up to the chancel, girls on the left and boys on the right, and hand over our flowers. They were packed into crates after the service and taken to London and given to children’s hospitals.

The first year I was chosen to take part in a school concert. The proceeds paid for Christmas presents for all the schools I was dressed as a little Negro and sat on a milking stool, and when the older boys came to their last song, I would get up and dance with them. All went well until the public nights, and then I was given a slice of Melon to eat to start with; I had never had Melon before and what to do with the rind? I looked into the wings, and someone indicated to throw it away, which I did, out into the audience; the audience was laughing so much that I did the same the following night. These shows raised money so that we could choose a present for Christmas; I chose a scrapbook. A son of the Bakery took my photograph using the flash held out, which stunned me. Usually on the stage the favourite boys would be picked for the lead parts even though they didn’t know the words and many like myself did. Also, to show how much work I did on the allotments. I had to help as son as I was able. To save money to as my Mum put. Avoid going in the workhouse. One day at school they did a health check, this meant weighing with my shoes and socks off. My feet were covered in dust from weeding on the allotment and Guy was called to see how dirty my feet were. As always, we worked late so a meal and soon to bed without washing.

Before the war with my dad on the dole, my brothers would go rabbiting at night. We had ferrets, and after netting all the holes, including the ‘bolt holes’, if they caught any rabbits, that was dinner for the next day. I always had the head. Not much meat for a large family. The head consisted of the tongue, cheeks, and brains, yes brains.. Another way to catch a rabbit was by wire. This was by way of making a loop the size of one’s knee; this was placed to catch the rabbit if it hopped over a jump. There were always jumps along their run. The snare is held in place by one stick and another anchored in the ground to hold the rabbit once caught. It must have been hard for Mum, having six/seven boys and a husband to feed. The kins after drying were sold.

Annabel like myself, went to Sunday school, which, if you had enough stamps, entitled you to a day out with the Sunday school Annabel said they went to Sand Banks at Poole we went to Weymouth and Mum would sit with us on the beach till dinner time, then take us by way of the ferry boat, this was manned by an old salt who rowed us across the harbour, then we climbed up to the Nothe Fort where we ate our sandwiches and had lemonade to drink. There were swings and roundabouts as in a playground, so mum did not have to pay for us as one had to on the beach. At teatime, we would walk back into town and meet everyone else at a restaurant where tea