NBC Transmitter (Jan-Nov 1942)

lANUARY. 1942 7 FIRST AID With the threat of air raid keeping the largest city in the world on the alert, the third tallest and the most important building in New York City, the RCA Building, quietly is preparing for the possibility of becoming a gigantic target, One of these preparations is the silent appearance of new equipment and increased supplies in NBC’s First Aid Room. The division NBC people appreciate the most is preparing itself for the emergency that may come. Busy “Ma” Phelps and her staff are set to enlist the aid, first of Engineering, all of whom necessarily know first aid, and second, all NBC employes who have been trained by the Red Cross. These two groups form the “reserves.” First Aid gives an average of 30,000 treatments a year. 2,483 cases average a winter month. Once Miss Boudreau took care of 1 10 people before 5 o’clock. Not only does First Aid tend the needs of NBC personnel but artists, studio audience guests and tour visitors have received treatment for a thousand and one things. Fainting, bruises and hysteria are the leading guest ailments. In winter, personnel suffers mostly from the common cold. I n summer, it’s sunburn and lots of it. The other major offenders treated are laryngitis, headaches, neuroses and good old over-indulgence. On checking through her charts recently. Miss Phelps, supervisor in charge of First Aid, discovered that only one person, out of the 1 ,500 total personnel of NBC, New York, had not been in to First Aid during the year. Miss Mable Phelps, as people outside the company know her, has been with NBC since 1934. She is a tiny, genial bundle of pink and white energy. Her cup cake nurse’s cap signifies that she graduated from Long Island College Hospital in Brooklyn. After a number of years of industrial nursing. Miss Phelps came to NBC and was promptly dubbed “Mom” by the crew. From the engineers, who consider her a special favorite, to the page boys, whom The American Red Cross Blood Bank has filled the records in the past twenty-seven months with countless stories on the availability of blood plasma enabling medical services to save lives. Based on the recent scientific discovery, blood may be treated and preserved. Volunteer donors are asked to give a pint of their blood. This is typed and prepared into blood plasma, sealed and transported for use. All persons donating blood receive an engraved gold heart in recognition of their humane gesture. The National Broadcasting Company has a division of the Blood Bank under the supervision of Patricia Olmstead in Television. Should you care to participate in this fine cause, send your name in to Miss Olmstead, Room 410, for an appointment form. she scolds and to whom she gives free cooking lessons, she’s “Ma” Phelps. When one of the control room boys wanders in with a sheepish grin and the sniffles, “Ma” Phelps, who can cut the tallest one down to her size, fixes him with a stern eye and demands, as she prepares some nose drops, “How much sleep did you get last week? When did you last eat a good meal? Where’s your heavy overcoat?” And the big six footer will take it and love it because, first, he knows she’s right and second, he knows she’s honestly concerned about his state of health. Ten times out of ten he wears his heavy overcoat. Miss Phelps is quite a celebrity in industrial nursing circles. Past president of the Industrial Nurses’ Club, she is now on the Advisory Board. “R.N.,” the journal for registered nurses, interviewed Mable Phelps when it wanted to know about nursing in a large corporation, for Miss Phelps, today, has 22 years of industrial nursing to her credit. Last April, “Ma” Phelps read a paper on the subject to the Greater New York Safety Council. A misguided male member of the audience saw fit to remark that no one nurse could possibly train or be equipped to do all the things Miss Phelps’ lecture called for. “Ma” Phelps said quietly, “I’ve done them all, young man!” And the whippersnapper sat down. Miss Phelps’ two assistants are blonde Mathilda Heydorn and brunette Eva Boudreau. Miss Heydorn or “Matty,” came to NBC in 1936 after private duty as a graduate of St. john’s Hospital in Brooklyn. “Boudy,” or Miss Boudreau, is a graduate of St, john’s Hospital in Long Island City. She came to NBC in 1932, having been the assistant to one of the most eminent surgeons practicing. “Matty” Heydorn has a pilot’s license and the ban on private flying is a real hardship. She can talk anyone’s language and rates a page boy or a vice president by the size of his stomach ache. Miss Boudreau has possibly the best smile in Radio City and caused more long faces around NBC when it got out that “Boudy” was married and had two fine boys growing up. Dr. John Curtis is the NBC physician, on the staff of the Presbyterian Hospital. “Doc” Curtis is all business and is always on call for any emergency. In addition to his daily visit for an hour’s consultation, a complete list of “Standing Orders,” issued by Dr. Curtis, is followed in all instances by the nurses during his absence. Patients are referred to their own doctors whenever possible for First Aid is exactly that. It is not a clinic. Every employe has a chart with name and address kept in a confidential file. First Aid is theoretically a courtesy of the company. Actually it is one of the essentials. First, it is a personal protection in case of accident. Second, this division is part of NBC because success begins with health.