Yes Thank God for a Nurse. AEJNE Volume 5 - No.1 August, 1999. Jean Harper I am an Enrolled Nurse who is currently studying for the Endorsed Enrolled Nurse Medication Module at Moreton Institute of TAFE One of the assignments we completed covered the principles and ethics that nurses encounter daily and in completing this assignment my thoughts turned to the National Enrolled Nurses conference in 1998. At this conference a nurse called Lyn, told of her personal experience, to which I dedicate this poem. I believe her actions epitomise the nurse, our principles and ethics, which I believe, are an integral part of us. To the enrolled nurse who shared her horrific experience at The Port Arthur massacre to You LYN. I now dedicate this poem from your account of that dreadful day, to "you" and I for one Salute your worth.   Yes Thank God for a Nurse. We quietly sat in our seats one day last year, we had then no idea, Of the horror we would hear. The place was historic, Port Arthur, Tasmania. Lots of people were there. Beautiful pine trees, and blue skies, a beautiful place. Although history shows, this was not so. No! All of a sudden, that's changed into fear. As the shots rang out and people were slain, One lonely nurse, and as she looked around in vain, Was help coming, who knew what to do? And as the shots faded, and people no longer were running. Realisation struck home, she would have to do as she had been trained, what could she do, and where to start.   Legs trembling, frightened, and yet, as tears streamed down she only knew, that as a person surely there must be something I can do. Her nursing training then took over as with eyes filled with tears, and leges finally moving. She looked for a way to reach the fallen, How could she best attempt to get to first the bus, as she could see by looking over, someone lay bleeding at the rear. The shots had faded in the distance, but as she crawled towards the bus, again those shots were near. Head bent low as she tried to look around, there were more, and more, people on the ground. By the time she had reached the bus, and sadly looked at one lady bleeding profusely, smiled at her and spoke to calm her, as she tried to stop the blood from flowing. The man who was her husband quietly lay quite close to her, but he was okay. As he looked into her beautiful eyes, he just asked no questions, but crawled towards his partner's side. She gently gestured to this trembling man and said to him, just hold her hand. Even knowing then no earthly hand could erase the evil of this monster. No bandage, no help, so she ripped her petticoat herself, to try and stop the bleeding. Still weeping , crawling, seeking and as she then moved on. By now the horror was sinking in, and as she moved along, realising so many more were needing, her help, her presence just by being there, she calmed them all in her gently way, and trying to stop the bleeding from so many wounded with come what may.   As she crawled along, still terrified, oh, and it seemed so long. Then at last people were bringing tea towels from the Café to help her stop the bleeding. At last this nightmare was nearly over, help had arrived, and even a doctor. As she quietly spoke, we all leaned forward as best to hear, I swear that people were sobbing in the rear. To a nurse who had never been involved in a casualty scene, let alone looked after a gunshot wound. To her credit she did her best, as she quietly explained the rest. When the doctor finally came with all the crew, the rescuers and all the rest, he quickly asked as she took him around, did she know how many lay bleeding on the ground? So she pointed out the urgent cases. Only then did he inquire for the exit site of the gunshot wounds, for the ones they could save, it was then she realised that this she had missed, so back she went and checked each patient. So horrified was she, because she only knew she had, stopped the blood that she could see, not checked for such! I strained to hear, as she quietly spoke, nails biting into my hand, and praying she would not see, that little girl running under the trees. The whole horror of Port Arthur came into view as she continued to share, her awful experience, and her bravery there. To nurses' one and all, thank God we are there, and continue to practise beneficence. I finally come to the end of my verse, and I say loudly, " Thank God for Nurses".   Jean Harper Enrolled Nurse