I came across a reference to the old Children’s Hospital at Forest House recently and it brought quite a few childhood memories rushing back. I managed somehow to get myself knocked down (well up in the air actually) by a beefy Ford Consul when I was a kid and ended up a guest in said institution. When I eventually landed it was with two broken legs, one in three places, and concussion plus a few sundry cuts and bruises for good measure. I recall being upside down in the air and seeing my shoe flying up the street. I also remember then doggedly trying to drag myself to my feet using a bus stop to hold on to and looking down to see my leg bend in the wrong place. They carted me off to ‘The Children’s’ in an ambulance where I remained for a week. With physiotherapy (learning to walk again basically) my young association with that hospital lasted a year though.
I was terrified of the place but they looked after me very well (I’ve gone on to run a few marathons as an adult so they did very well indeed I guess!) but I was scared stiff of the building and the unknown in there as I thought they were going to take my legs away for good. I remember the above so well, being taken for physiotherapy there by my mum so many times.
The kindest, kindest man, a jolly West Indian doctor, looked after me and made me smile – even though he was tasked with re-breaking my legs twice in operations as they had knitted crookedly. On another failed occasion they sawed the long plaster casts half through at the shins and banged wooden pegs in the gaps to straighten my legs. Looking back it was like something out of a Hammer horror movie. I wish I could thank that kindly doctor today though.
THE TEARS OF A CLOWN 
I work at old Nottingham children’s hospital for three years in early seventies lots of happy memories 1972 / 1975
Forgot to say my surname was Jones and I worked in the high dependency unit .
Thank you for your comments, Margery, they’re appreciated. It’s good that you enjoyed your time at the hospital. For the time I was in there during the 1960s and attending as an outpatient I was treated only with great kindness.
Stuart
I have a memory of being a patient at the Nottingham Children’s Hospital. It occurred at the time my mother was working in the Medical Records Department at the Children’s Hospital. It was one winters day back in the mid-1960’s and I was sledging where I live on Woodthorpe Park, when I collided into a tree and broke my right leg.
To cut a long storey short. It was whilst laying on a trolley waiting for my leg to be plastered in one of the side rooms adjacent to the Out Patients Department. Knowing my mother was with me, who worked in the Records Department, there would be an occasional knock on the door and a nurses head would poke through and rather apologetically say: ‘Mrs. Swift, we’ve got a patient coming in and we can’t find the notes, you wouldn’t mind going to have a look for us would – please?’ My mother, of course dutifully went off to find them. As I remember this happened quite a few times as every now and then the same thing would happen and the same poor nurses head poked sheepishly through the door asking the same question, and out went my mother to look for the notes. It didn’t bother me, even at the age of 7, as I felt it was part and parcel of working in a hospital!
As I still live facing on to Woodthorpe Park, that sapling I collided into is now a fully grown tree!
A lovely story, Paul. I never came a cropper sledging on Woodthorpe Park myself though it was a close run thing at times!
Please could anyone that worked at the Nottingham children’s hospital in the 1960s,because I was trying to find out if anyone had photos,I was looking for my brother,he was four and a half years old,and he had to go to a convalescent home in Ilkeston,but we can’t remember the name of it,and I can’t find an nformation about it. Please anyone that could help.
Just came across this. I was in the Children’s hospital for along time in the early 60’s having a kidney removed. Quite a rare event in the day. My nurse was Gwen Streets ( or Street ), please forgive the memory lapse. Whilst I hated the pain I was in at at the time, I cannot fault the care and attention I was given. I never sussed why they were so strict on visiting times back then, but knew everyone was terrified of matron – it really was a “carry ob movie” in real life at times 🙂
I can only echo your thoughts about the kindess of the staff, Alan. I was frightened stiff as a kid in there after a bad accident but I remember in particular one Afro-Carribean doctor who was looking after me being fantastic and giving me confidence that everything was going to be okay.
I was admitted to this hospital with TB as a 5 yr old. I was there for the best part of a year. recall being in the ward with the huge tall windows. I was looking out of that window and saw my mam carrying our baby Sandra (Muff) and street aunt Mable. They waved to me and l frantically waved back but as they disappeared below me, l was chased back into bed by the nurses. I sat up watching the door feverishly waiting for my visitors to come through it. The door opened and a nurse came in carrying a doll my mam had bought me. I raced to the window and sobbed as l watched them walk away. …….l was gutted.
What a very sad story Joy. I can’t imagine how you must have felt. Those places could be quite scary and foreboding for a child. Such a long time to be in there too.
I can remember going for an operation in my younger days there. and also remember the comfortable beds then and proper blanket since then I must have been 6 or 7 years old
They were days that left many of us with memories, Adrian. Not necessarily pleasant ones either.
I started nursing there in 1948 and spent 3 really happy years training. I absolutely loved nursing children, they brought such joy most of the time although of course there were sad times too. Especially when I see the conditions of those days being completely cured today. If anyone out there remembers me it would be wonderful to hear from them. I was “nurse white” then. I left in 1951. Elsie.woodhall@icloud.com. Now 91 !
Wonderful! Thank you for your service Elsie in looking after those youngsters. Much respect to you.
I had my tonsils and adenoids removed at this hospital,it must have been about 1957, I remember the smell of dissenfectant,and the tiled walls.I think the surgeon was dr Marshall.When they tried to put the mask over my mouth to give me gas I tried to fight it and was held down.I don’t recall anyone visiting me.In the bed next to mine was a girl named Sylvia Dean,I often wonder about her.Unfortunately after two weeksI was taken back to this hospital as I was bleeding from my throat,I will never forget the injection I was given it looked massive,I assume it was to stop bleeding,so I was back in for two weeks and was only allowed to eat porridge.
heather shirley
Thankyou Geoff but I don’t remember that name!