PLYMOUTH |
The Encyclopaedia of Plymouth History |
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9 - GOING TO THE DOCTORS Doctor Julius Blewitt Stauffer, known as John, was born in Cornwall on February 1st 1893. He ran away to sea at the age of 16 and sailed to Australia, where he obtained his Master's Certificate before turning to medicine. He married Miss Lorna Dunn at Charlestown, St Austell, at the end of 1927 and they moved to Devonport to set up as General Practitioners. By 1932 he had taken over from Doctor G K Pearson, whose surgery was at 75 Station Road, between Cotehele and Maristow Avenues. He moved the surgery to number 65 and remained there until his retirement in 1961. It should be added at this point that the National Health Service did not start until July 1st 1948, as a consequence of which Mother had to pay two shillings for me, I understand. Visiting the Doctors before the days of Health Centres, computers and appointments was an endurance test and taught children patience and how to cope with intense boredom. Firstly there were surgery hours. The front door of the surgery was opened about an hour before these started so the waiting room was usually full by the time you arrived because everybody tried to get in first. Upon approaching the surgery, therefore, one would immediately take note of whether the Doctor's car was already parked outside. It was an unwritten rule not to park outside the surgery: it was called 'respect' for the Doctor. If his car was there, all was well, but if not, then it could mean a very long wait. He may have been making house calls or got called out on an emergency. He would arrive when he was ready -- you just had to wait. Entering the house, the first thing you noticed was how sparten it looked. In those days most houses were painted in what can best be described as Great Western Railway chocolate and cream: chocolate below the dado rail and cream above. On the right, opposite the door to what would be the front room, was a dark oak table with a bell and a set of numbered brass tags. You rang the bell so that Mrs Gladys Carver-Trotter, who looked after the house and was the nearest thing to a receptionist that existed in those days, knew you were there and then took the next number from the pile of brass tags. Mum usually had a chat with 'Glad' until we were interrupted by either the next patient or the Doctor and then we would enter the front room, which acted as the waiting room. It was packed, as often as not. In Doctor Stauffer's day there was a huge carved cupboard up against the inside wall and an equally huge carved table in the centre of the room. This meant that there was very little room for chairs, which were ranged around the remaining three walls. As a result there were usually people standing and others, if it was really busy, stood out in the corridor. I have known patients to be stood outside on the pavement. What with the coughs and sneezes, it was hardly the most healthy place to wait and it was commonly thought that if you did not have a germ when you went in you certainly would have one by the time you got out. The first words you heard, over the coughing, was whether the Doctor had arrived or not. If he was not there the room would descend in to silence, broken only by someone reaching for another magazine off the table. Children would shuffle but I do not remember tantrums or crying. It just was not done. Parents did take things for children to do. You just sat - silently - and sat and sat. If, like me, you were interested in the number 19 bus you could look out the window to see it pass, first down to the terminus at Warleigh Avenue, and then back again on its way in to town. If you wanted to catch it, bad luck. But then you never planned anything else for the same day as a visit to the Doctors. Mother's with young babies all went to see Doctor before anybody else. There were no time rules, no ten minutes per patient. And the patients made sure they got a proper listening so there was no hurrying. If consultations took 15 minutes each, then only four patients were seen in an hour. The waiting room could hold, I suppose, about twelve people. A three-hour wait was not unknown. It usually paid to get there just before the doors were closed but that did;t mean you would be out any quicker. When each patient had finished, they ran the bell outside the room for the next person. Sometimes the outgoing person would knock on the door and shout "Next". Sometimes they were so exhausted they would forget to call the next patient and there would be a long pause before the Doctor or Gladys came to call the next person. Doctor Stauffer's consulting room was in what would have been the dining room, right next to the front room. I think the oak cupboard was there so as to prevent those in the waiting room from hearing what was being said between Doctor and patient. When Doctor Morris arrived on the scene he chose the kitchen as his consulting room, which was actually a lot brighter. When you eventually got out, maybe three hours later (I am not joking!), you took your prescription next door to Mr T B Harvey, the chemist. And the waiting started all over again while he made it up. Pills didn't come in blister-packed packets. Doctor Arthur Oliver Nixon Morris took over the practice in 1961. He was a local man, born at Devonport on February 21st 1926. He married Miss Rachel Carina Swann at Taunton in 1955. Consultations immediately speeded up and it was more likely that there were fewer people already in the waiting room when you arrived and you were normally out within one hour instead of three. Doctor Stauffer died on Monday May 20th 1974 at the age of 81. After a service at Stoke Damerel Parish Church, his body was taken to Charlestown, near St Austell, in Cornwall, to be interred. Doctor Lorna Stauffer died in June 1989. Doctor Morris died peacefully at his home, surrounded by his family, on July 9th 2005. The funeral was at Stoke Dameral Parish Church. Mrs Gladys Emily Carver-Trotter died at St Luke's Hospice on June 28th 2007.
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