Timesuck with Dan Cummins - Short Suck 65: The Lady With the Lamp: Florence Nightingale’s War on Death

Episode Date: September 11, 2026

Florence Nightingale didn’t just become the world’s most famous nurse - she helped revolutionize modern medicine, battling horrific hospital conditions, deadly disease, entrenched sexism, and staggering institutional incompetence along the way. From the blood-soaked hospitals of the Crimean War to her groundbreaking work in sanitation and statistics, discover how the legendary “Lady with the Lamp” waged a lifelong war on preventable death.For Merch and everything else Bad Magic related, head to: https://www.badmagicproductions.com Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Welcome to another edition of Time Sucks Short Sucks. I'm Dan Cummins, and today I'll be sharing the story of the world's most famous Florence in my estimation. Sorry Florence Welch from Florence and Machine. I love your work, but I think it's another Brit. Florence Nightingale. At least she is the world's most famous person ever named Florence, who was named after the world's most famous place named Florence, Florence Italy. A woman who once wrote, nursing is an art.

And if it is to be made in art, It requires an exclusive devotion, as hard a preparation as any painters or sculptors work. Florence Nightingale is widely considered to be the founder of modern nursing, known as the Lady with the Lamp. This British nurse and social reformer helped drastically improve sanitation and quality of care in hospitals during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Florence Nightingale's life and career shifted the Victorian upper class's view on nurses. Nursing was long considered an unskilled job.

suitable for lower class women only, but after Florence made a national name for herself, nursing was regarded as an honorable job for a young woman of any class. And Florence Nightingale certainly lived an honorable life. Words and ideas can change the world. I hated her, but I wanted to love my mother. I have a dream. I'll plead not guilty right now. Your only chance is to leave with us. Florence Nightingale was born after hanging out. out for around nine months, creepily close to this one woman's vagina. On May 12th, 1820, 1920, 1820, that's just a hundred years difference. 1820 in Florence, Italy.

Her parents, Francis and William Short Nightingale, Frankenbill were on an extended honeymoon and named their daughter after her birthplace. Her parents went by Fannie and William, not Frankenbill, but I think of them as Frank and Bill, but history refuses to take my lead in this matter. Florence had one sister named Larry. I think of her as Larry. She thought of herself as Parthenopy, born on April 19th, 1819. Parthenopy, the name of an ancient Greek settlement that sat where part of the Italian city of Naples now does.

Parthenopy also the name of a siren in Greek mythology who cast herself into the sea and drowned when her songs failed to entice the legendary Greek king, Odysseus, the protagonist and hero of Homer's epic poem. The Odyssey. Or the dude, you know, Matt Damon, plays in Christopher Nolan's interpretation of The Odyssey. Pissed, I still haven't seen that movie, by the way. I've heard it's fucking awesome. Both girls named after where they were born. And I think Florence got the better end of that deal. Parthenope, a super cool backstory to that name.

Now, it's a cool name when you get used to it. I'm sure it's a fucking awesome name in Greece. But they were a British family, and I'm guessing she got pretty sick of having to explain how the fuck she ended up with the name of Parthenopy. Florence grew up in a privileged, wealthy Victorian family that traveled extensively, moved in very elite social circles. Young Florence was described as awkward in social situations. She disliked being the center of attention

and trait that would stick with her for the entirety of her life. Florence thought her mother was overly controlling and they would get into arguments frequently, but also felt the urge to please her mother. She was like most of us, I think, when it comes to relationships with our parents, conflicted. William Nightingale inherited two estates from his great uncle, one called Lee Hurst in Darbyshire County and one called Embley Park in Hampshire County. The 19-acre Lee Hurst estate was actually recently listed, is up for sale in 2024, and way less than I expected. Just under $5 million U.S.

$4.8. I honestly expected it to be listed for so, so much more than that. I guess the family spent most of their time at the much larger than 4,000-acre Embley Park estate. it's now the 130 acre site after you know parcels were sold off here and there over the years site of the 700 plus student 200 or so staff emily school for kids age 2 through 18 nothing like sending your 2 year old to an expensive private school uh 4,000 acres that's fucking wild not sure how large the mansion was they lived in at the time but i know it had wings described as a mansion with wings when your house has fucking wings you live in a massive opulent home guessing that estate would be worth in its original form of 4,000 acres far north of $100 million today.

So I say all this to say that the nightingales were not exactly slumming it. Between both estates and Gallivant and around Europe, Florence received a solid classical education, studying literature, history, philosophy, math, French, German, Italian, Greek, my God, and Latin. All of it. She studied fucking all of it, everything in the world. All taught to her and her sister by private tutors. She preferred to read the works of philosophers and discuss politics with her father Instead of learning how to manage a home Which was what was expected of a girl

During the Victorian era She also excelled in math and science Despite her mother's approval Over her even studying these male-dominated topics God damn it It wasn't right She could have exploded her fragile little lady brain Or maybe imploded it

I can't remember what's supposed to happen When Lady Brains try to tackle too much math and science They either, I think they either explode, like outwardly like bombs, or maybe fold inwards, like a deep sea submersible. Anyway, she had an affinity for classifying and recording data. She kept very detailed lists, tables of information such as flower specimens and her seashell and coin collections, a lot of data and all that. Clearly, little floraida, ice-collar floraida, had a very, very active mind. When she and her sister went on a tour of Europe, she kept a diary where she recorded population statistics. and a number of hospitals, or the number of hospitals,

and the number of charitable institutions in each of the city she visited. I mean, she was clearly on the spectrum, right? Socially awkward, brain like a computer. I think she was wildly autistic. I think she would have been labeled with Asperger's back when I was in college, a term no longer in use, but, you know, for somebody on the spectrum who was just like incredibly high on the IQ scale. On February 7, 1837, 16-year-old Florence was walking through a garden

when she felt she heard the voice of God. Didn't expect that. Okay. She felt that God instructed her to lessen human suffering. And she would feel this urge this call a few more times. She came to decision that nursing would be the best way to fulfill her divine purpose.

Florence started practicing nursing shortly after this by caring for sick relatives and tenants on the estate grounds. Mom, not happy with that, since that was not what a highborn woman was supposed to do. When Florence told her parents about her dream of nursing they were far lessened pleased. They actually initially forbade her to become a nurse. I forbade it.

Thanks to nursing truly not being seen as a suitable career for a young lady of upward social status. Nursing was considered, according to a BBC source, quote, lowly, immodest work done by poor women. What do you think you're doing, Florence? Helping someone when they're sick? Showing empathy and humility? Caring for someone when they need it most? Not on my watch. Stop acting like some kind.

piece of trash, you'll drag your sister, pathenity down with you. Girls from wealthy families were not supposed to have careers at all at this time, actually. It really rubbed Jesus' dog and the Almighty Father the wrong way. They were expected to marry a man of equal or higher social standing

and sit around and be pretty and demure and know a lot about manners and very little about anything else and have the man's babies, but not really raise them because that was the work for lowly nannies and governesses and tutors and fucking scum. Such a ridiculous species, just preposterous. In 1842, when Florence was getting dangerously old to still be alone at the age of 21,

when her vagina was almost retired. Florence began courting a young man named Richard Moncton Milnes, old Dick M&M, old cock candy. I'm pretty proud of that one. An upper-class philanthropist and poet. Florence knew her mother would approve of cock candy in the match. They courted for seven years, some sources say nine. but then she rejected cock candy In 1849, the now 29-year-old Florence declined

a final proposal of marriage from Mr. Cock Candy while she thought he was a good intellectual match she felt that her quote moral, active nature requires satisfaction and that would not find it and that it would not find it, excuse me, in this life. Dude, how pissed was he? Nine years, Florence? Seriously, nine years. You couldn't have chased me off like after one year, maybe?

He actually would remain a big supporter, fan of Florence, and would marry. somebody else two years later after she spurned him and they'd have three kids so you know worked out all right for cock candy Florence also rejected a proposal from her cousin and tutor Henry Nicholson probably for the best if you have a teacher I just think in life in general if you have a teacher that wants to marry you and that teacher is also your cousin that is at least two red flags that you should not marry him and that's their substantial red flags she also turned down a suitor named marmaduke wyville I mean, another good call.

Why would anyone say yes to Marmaduke? Finally, she turned down Sir Henry Vernie's marriage proposal. Then she gave him Parthenopy as a consolation prize of sorts. I mean, she didn't literally give him her sister a peepee. I call her peepee sometimes,

but she did introduce him to her and the two then would marry. Nice. What a fun psychological edge she now had over her sister. What a fun button to push if she ever wanted to really enrage or devastate her. How are things with Henry Peepe?

you still enjoying feasting on my table scraps? My leftovers? The dick I didn't want to dittle. That sounds like Florence, right? I highly doubt she said anything even remotely like that, ever. But I do very much enjoy pretending that Florence Nightgill was privately that vicious. While upsetting her parents by continually turning down one qualified suitor after another and not giving her any, or them, you know, any fucking grandkids,

and being really just a willful brat. Florence also continued to defy her parents' career wishes. And she would visit hospitals in Paris, Rome, and London. London. It's incredible they didn't kill her. The restraint her parents' exercise was legendary. In 1850, when she was 30, Florence's father finally gave her permission to travel to Germany and officially study there and trained to be a nurse. And that is wild. That as a 30-year-old, due to the customs of the time, she still had to be like, but please, Daddy, I really want to be a nurse, daddy. Pretty please, Daddy. I'll be such a good girl if you let me be a nurse in July

that year. Florence enrolled as a student at the institution of Protestant deaconess at Kaiser Wirth, part of the city of Dusseldorf, after a brief trip back home to England, I mean, probably not super brief since they didn't have planes or cars back then, just trains and probably slow-ins at that. Florence returned to the school in Germany in July of 1851, and she learned basic nursing skills, patient observation, and hospital organization. Florence's sister pathenope would struggle greatly in her sister's absence. What the fuck did hand-me-down Dick Henry due to her. And she experienced a nervous breakdown in 1852. Florence, she really was such a good person, would immediately come home to take care of her. Florence then traveled to London in 1853,

got her first proper nursing job at the institution for sick, gentle women in distressed circumstances. And I didn't make up that title. Holy shit. I wish we still had places named in that style today. Where do you work? Oh, me? At the institution for sick gentlewomen in distressed circumstances. I used to work at the establishment for healthy maidens who found themselves in delightful situations, but honestly, there wasn't much to be done. It's quite boring. The very specifically named institution for sick gentlewoman in distressed circumstances, Jesus Christ, was a hospital for governesses in middle sex. Governance was an educated middle class woman hired to live with an affluent family and teach their children at home. And I guess that was where they went when they fell ill. A little odd to me that

they had an entire hospital for that very specific job. Florence is. employer was so impressed with her that she was promoted superintendent in August of 1853. While there, Florence managed the hospital during an outbreak of cholera, which was worsened by unsanitary conditions at the hospital. Read so much poop. She decided that the staff must dedicate themselves to improving hygiene practices. Read, less poop. And succeeded in significantly decreasing the hospital's death rate. Not sure how many governesses in distress circumstances were saved, but, you know, I'm guessing quite a few of them.

while Florence made great strides in helping her patients, her own health suffered, and Florence became sick. And now she was distressed, just like her mother warned. You help sick poor people long enough, Florence, and pretty sure you're going to be sick to, and then the next thing you know, you've also caught the poor. Great. After that, it's only a matter of time until you're ugly. Florence would bounce back,

enough to become a British national hero during the Crimean War where she nursed sick soldiers back to health and greatly improved conditions at military hospitals. And before diving into this war and Florence's role in it, it is time for today's first and two mid-show sponsor breaks. If you don't want to hear these ads, please sign up to be a spacer on Patreon. Get the kettle of all guide free.

Get these episodes early and more. Thanks for listening to those ads. Sorry about that weird accent to start of the ad break. Now let's learn about the Crimean War. The Crimean War began in October of 1853, war named after a guy named Crimean, no, named after the Crimean Peninsula on the Black Sea. Guessing you've heard of this place

with all the news about Russia and Ukraine this past several years I hope Ukraine takes it back someday soon. Hope Russia fucking false. Hope Russia is fucking obliterated. Not to people, just the government. Back in the mid-19th century, Europe was also having problems with Russia in the same area. Fucking Russia. Always problems with them. Always problems for the West.

Britain, France, the kingdom of Sardinia, and the Ottoman Empire. Modern-day Turkey all partnered up to fight against the Russian forces of Tsar Nicholas I, who was attempting to expand his influence in the Middle East and the Eastern Mediterranean. The British and the French got involved because Russia was a threat to their trade routes in this part of the world. The real spark that started this war was religious tension between Catholics and Orthodox people over access to Jerusalem and other holy sites controlled by the Ottoman Empire, something that also certainly was not new. Same shit that goes on today. People being butchered in the Middle East,

thanks essentially to various nations insisting that the God whose existence they can never fully prove but worship is more real and better as are his people than somebody else's proposed God and people. Reductionary take admittedly but true that this is the

real never-ending world war in a sense. After several Orthodox monks were killed in Bethlehem, Zard Nicholas sent an emissary to the Turkish Sultan and demanded equal access to religious sites and the Sultan and that the Sultan recognize him as the protector of the Orthodox Christians

in the Ottoman Empire and the Sultan was like, how about you suck my balls instead? Maybe that. How about instead of everything that you just said? You just get down on your knees and you suck my balls, little baby boy.

He didn't say that exactly, but he did refuse to comply. And Nicholas was pissed. He decided he would then occupy Moldavia and Wailashia, Moldavia, and Wailasha, there we go, which were controlled by Turkey. The western half of Moldavia,

now part of Romania, eastern side, belonged to the Republic of Moldova. This part of the world, they love to fucking throw the names around every couple decades. Northern, southeastern parts or territories of Ukraine. Wallachia is just fucked. It's just fucking gone.

If you have a name like Walshia, you don't get to stay around as a country very long. It's part of Romania now. In October of 1853, Turkey declared war on Russia and launched a counterattack. Turkey had some victories in the beginning, but soon it was clear that the Russians were winning the war. Just a month into the fighting, the Russians had defeated the Turkish Navy at the port of Sinop in the Black Sea. Roughly 2,000 sailors and officers were killed when their wooden ships were set on fire.

And the slaughter inflamed the West's already negative opinion of Russia, even though, to my knowledge, zero sick, gentle women in distress circumstances were lost. The British, who were trading partners with Turkey, were also concerned about their access to India, getting cut off. How the fuck would they be able to keep exploiting India if the Russians took over and then oppressed the Turks and others? the French were also vying for revenge after Russia had defeated Napoleon I, who was a super nice guy who never caused problems for literally anyone as long as he didn't make fun of his height. In late March of 1854, both Britain and France waged war against Russia. They thought it would be an easy win with their large navies and armies. In mid-September of 1854, the Allied forces sent 30,000 French, 26,000 British, 4,500 Turkish soldiers to the Crimean Peninsula. the armies planned to march south and capture the heavily fortified port city of Sevastopol,

which was the main naval base of Russia's Black Sea Fleet. A few days later, the Allies engaged with the Russians at the Battle of Alma, which only lasted three hours and forced the Russians to reroute. Over 5,700 Russians were killed while British and the French, they lost 962 men. The Allies moved to Sevastopol for what they thought would be a three-month siege, but the fighting would last almost a year. the next battles marked by failures and lost a life on both sides. In the winter of 1854, going into 1855,

the British Army's tents were destroyed by a storm on the Crimean Peninsula. The fucking big-ass storm. Ships carried medical supplies, food, and clothing sank. The storm sucked. Soldiers living in trenches. You know, suffered freezing conditions. Many would die from cholera. But then, in January of 1855,

the Kingdom of Sardinia! Let us not forget the Sardinians. They entered the war. It was a huge shot of adrenaline for the forces fighting Russia. Just kidding. They did enter the war. It was not a big adrenaline shot, though. Almost no Sardinian soldiers would ever see battle.

Almost all the roughly 2,000 who died just, they died of disease. Not in battle. In the summer of 1855, sorry, Sardinia. The Russians launched two unsuccessful assaults and one failed bombardment. There we go. In early September, the French overwhelmed them in hand-to-hand battle and raised their flag over a key fortified. in Sevastopol's defenses.

Days later, the Russians burned their ships in Sevastopol and withdrew. Backing up a bit, by 1854, there were about 18,000 soldiers in military hospitals, not counting the Russians or governesses, but there were no female nurses at any of these hospitals because women in healthcare at the time had poor reputations,

which is pretty absurd. They were the only people who really were nurses. However, after the Battle of Alma, the people of Britain were outraged, By the neglect of injured soldiers and filthy hospitals, they've been reading about in the papers, hearing about, you know, when people came home or sent, you know, fucking letters,

military hospitals were severely understaffed. Patients were suffering greatly in extremely unsanitary conditions. So, in late 1854, Florence received a letter from Britain's Secretary of War, Sidney Herbert, asking her to organize a corps of nurses to send to the Crimean Peninsula. At the same time that Sidney Herbert wrote to Florence,

she wrote a letter to his wife, remember she, her family, you know, high up elite social circles, including a lot of big time politicians. This was a friend of hers and asked for permission to lead a private expedition over there. Florence would recruit 34 nurses for this expedition from different religious orders. Plenty of nurses at the time were non-religious, but a lot of religious nursing sisterhoods, both Protestant and Catholic did exist. The women left on October 21st, 1854, arrived in Crimea, November 5th. The Barak Hospital, Berwick, excuse. me hospital located in Scutari, now called Uskudar, which is across the Bosporus Strait from Istanbul.

The Bosporus Strait divided Europe and Asia. Still does, actually. It's still holding that duty. It hasn't passed the buck. It hasn't passed the baton. Istanbul, actually on both sides of the southern end of the strait, pretty interesting geographic location. Conditions at the Scutari Hospital, horrific. The place was absolutely riddled with bad boys and bad.

bad girls who simply refused to go pee-pee or poop in the potty, mostly bad boys. For real, though, the hospital floor reportedly covered by an inch or so of feces. I am no scatologist, but that seems like an awful lot of poop for one hospital. Patients frequently were left in their own shit on stretchers and hallways, or sometimes on the floor in their own shit, always on their own shit, often in other people's shit. A hospital also infested with rats and bugs. Basic supplies like bandages and soap were scarce. Clean water, scarce and ration. More soldiers would death. die there from infectious diseases like typhoid and cholera or from infections, you know,

than they would from actual battlefield injuries. Despite the intense squalor, Florence and her cadre of nurses did not receive a warm welcome when they came to help from the medical officers there. Oh, it's fine, ladies. We don't need your help. Everything is hunky-dory, really, actually, all things considered. We just haven't had time to clean up recently. That's all.

we've just been busy, but we were going to get to that. We were about to clean up all the poo, right when you showed up. And, you know, once we got the poo cleaned up, we figured the rats and the bugs would leave. We'd burn the bodies, you know, they're stuck in the poo. All the people dying. And, you know, everything would be like fucking peaches. Everything would be peach marmalade. Only a few nurses were given access to the collar awards.

Initially, Florence bit her lip a lot. She wanted to gain the confidence of the Army surgeons by waiting for official military orders for assistance instead of, you know, pushing her agenda and trying to do what she knew was right, just right out of the gate. She would get her opportunity to do much more five days later. It wouldn't have to wait long.

The hospital was then inundated, overwhelmed by injured soldiers from the battle of Balaclava and the Battle of Increment. And yes, Balaclava, like the thing that you wear over your face while you're out in the snow while you're out to skiing or whatever on a snowmobile.

It was originally worn by soldiers in the Crimean War. British soldiers widely would wear these knitted face and head coverings that they basically had to fucking improvise during the Crimean War. Official military provisions for warm clothing would fail to arrive on time. They were getting frostbitt,

you know, just brutal cold. Families and volunteers at home were hand-knitting these woolen headgear devices to send to the front lines, which would give the garment its name of Balaclava. Florence described what resulted in a big influx of freshly

wounded soldiers arriving in an already crowded and filthy hospital as transforming the place into the, quote, kingdom of hell. So that's quite a description. Florence's first goal was to get enough supplies to treat all the sick and injured soldiers. That's probably your second goal. Probably the first goal was to get rid of all the shit. There was probably still all over the place.

She purchased equipment with money given to her by the London Times newspaper, which is pretty awesome, enlisted as many soldiers' wives as she could who were nearby to help with laundry. She was able to get hold of hundreds of scrub brushes, and she put the patients in the best health to work with them, had them scrubbed the entire hospital. She spent all her waking hours caring for sick patients, collapsing at the end of each day in exhaustion. She established standards of care most of us would probably think of as beyond obvious today, like regular bathing, you know, like people shouldn't just be laying in their own filth. Clean clothes. They shouldn't have poop all over them.

Clean wound dressings. She created services that improved the quality of a patient's time in the hospital, including a so-called invalid's kitchen, where the staff would cook food for patients, including patients with special dietary requirements. and not all of this made her beloved to those above her. Some of the men who ran the hospital thought that Florence was, quote, unladylike and a nuisance. But she continued pushing for outrageous shit like healthy food, cleanliness, adequate medicine, necessary medical supplies. Ha, how unladylike to try to make shit better. If anything it needed to be made better, obviously the menfolk would have already made that shit better. Anybody who has ever met a man knows that we are an extraordinary.

extremely clean and tidy gender. We're a thoughtful and nurturing bunch overall. She also helped soldiers write letters, and she provided education opportunities with a classroom and a library. That fucking uppity meddlesome tramp. In the evenings, working long into the night, she made her rounds while carrying a lamp,

which is how she got her nickname of The Lady with the Lamp, pretty on the nose. Also was called the Angel of Crimea. And I'm guessing a few guys probably called her lamp tramp or pesky lamp tramp. some guys may have also referred to her as Aunt Flo, if they wanted to be extra childish, but also kind of funny. The following excerpt from report upon the state of the hospitals of the British Army in the Crimea and Scutari

describes Florence and the nurses' duties in 1855. Quote, besides the above hospital attendance slash helpers, we have to notice the staff of nurses under the superintendents looked after by of Miss Nightingale. The lady arrived at Scutari on the 4th November, accompanied by 38 nurses. These are employed to attend to such cases as the medical officers in charge and the staff surgeons of their divisions.

Concur, agree, need to be nursed, and considering cases requiring such attendance. They are employed chiefly, according to Ms. Nightingale's evidence among the wounded, the operation cases, and the severe medical cases. Their duties consist in surgical cases, those who had operations, in washing and preparing for the morning visits

of the medical officer, such wounds as they are directed by that officer to treat in this way, to attend upon him in dressing the wounds, and to receive and take to Miss Nightingale his directions as to diet, drink, and medical comforts. In surgical cases, a corridor and two wards are generally assigned, looked after, to four nurses. In medical cases, their duties consist in dressing bad sores,

seeing that the food of the patients is properly cooked and properly administered, and that cleanliness both of the wards and of the person is attended to. We have reason to believe that the services of these hospital attendance, these nurses, have been extremely valuable. Well, all right. Clearly, Florence and the nurses, under her supervision, left one hell of an impression on whoever wrote that report. Although Florence and her team got the hospital a lot cleaner shortly after her arrival, the death rate would get worse before it would get better. Four thousand men would die there during her first winter. But then by the spring of 1855,

the government had sent out, partially due to her urging, a sanitary commission to investigate at the hospital. And the commission discovered that, what do you know it? Right beneath the hospital, raw sewage was mixing with drinking water. So that's cool. So everybody had been drinking, you know, a little bit of shit. Maybe a lot of, a lot of bit.

The hospital was flushed out. The water situation was cleaned up and fixed, and the ventilation system was improved, and then the death rate did start to go down. Combined with Florence's new practices and standards of care, various sources state that she was able to reduce the hospital's death rate over the 20 months she was there,

from 60% all the way down to 2.2%. Perhaps later investigation in the 20th century would reveal that the mortality rate at the Barrick Hospital was higher than originally reported and the government concealed the real mortality rate. But it is still thought that the practices she introduced insisting on clean water, bathing the sick, pushing for better food that included fruit

so they didn't die from nutritional deficiencies from stuff like scurvy, like drastically reduced the loss of life. And many back in England soon heard, heard about what she was doing, about all their sons being saved, the people outraged over the state of the treatment of their wounded sons. Now they adored her. The first image of the Lady with the Lamp was published by the Illustrated London News on February 24, 1855.

One excerpt from the Times published on February 8, 1855, reveals the nation's view of Florence. She is a ministering angel without any exaggeration in these hospitals. and as her slender form glides quietly along each corridor, every poor fellow's face softens with gratitude at the sight of her. When all the medical officers have retired for the night, and silence and darkness have settled down upon these miles of prostrate sick and may be observed alone with a little lamp in her hand, making her solitary rounds.

In May of 1855, Florence began excursions into the Crimea, but she became sick with bruselosis, this infectious bacterial disease we don't really have much anymore in most parts of the world often caused by drinking contaminated milk or other dairy products sadly even though she would live for a long

long time after this she would never fully recover from what was then called the Crimean fever the Crimean War would continue into the early 1856 finally when the Austrians threatened to join the Allies Russia agreed to stop fighting on March 30th 1856

all parties would sign the Treaty of Paris Russia would be would return all seas territory, and the Black Sea was demilitarized. Tensions between Russia and Turkey would last for decades, but the war that claimed the lives of roughly half a million soldiers, most of whom, I should add, would die of various infections and diseases and hospitals rather than on battlefields was over. Florence left Scutari in the summer of 1856 and arrived back in England on August 7th of that year.

And I will share her post-war life when I want to, because you don't get to tell me what to do, you're not the boss of me. I'm probably going to do it right after today's second and two Mitchill sponsor breaks. Thanks for listening to those sponsors. Now let's reconnect with Florence after she returned home to England. She returned to the Lee Hurst Estate to see her family. I hope her mom was proud of her.

I hope her mom was finally fucking proud of her. If not, you know what? If not, I hope that judgy bitch got her tits kicked off by a mule. I do. Sources don't mention that that happened. So I doubt it happened. I am pretty sure that somebody would have mentioned at least once if she would have had her, you know, her tits,

mule kicked off her chest. I think that's pretty newsworthy. Florence had become a national hero. Poems were written in her honor. Her image was printed on bags, mats, and various souvenirs, right? Incredible. She's a huge celebrity now. Her sister, Parthenope, became her business manager and refused to consent to the release of most of her photos.

So only two portraits of Florence were ever published with the family's permission, which means that many portraits of Florence are old bootlakes and not accurate. They were, you know, printed for souvenirs this time. especially ones where she had 36 you know triple D boobs and was dressed in one of those sexy nurse lingerie costumes from Fredericks of Hollywood or Adam and Eve. Sorry, but those are not accurate portrayals,

not accurate representations of Florence Nightingale, you horny, sleaze bag, misogynistic dirtbag, fucking scum. Florence, never went to rest on her laurels. Now began the next phase of a work. She wrote an 830-page report analyzing her experience and proposing reforms for military hospitals titled Notes on Matters

affecting the Health Efficiency and Hospital Administration of the British Army. Guessing there was at least one chapter that recommended not having at least like an inch or so a ship covering the hospital floor that was then also covered

with bugs and rats. At the very least, I bet that was alluded to. In October of 1856, Queen Victoria herself presented Florence with an engraved brooch that became known as the Nightingale Jewel

and also granted her a 250,000 pound reward. My gosh. for some reason she did not buy a third massive family estate with that money but she could have for her mom still wasn't impressed after that i hope a mule fucking stomped on her tits after kicking him off her chest and then shit on him i hope a mule kicked off her tits stomped on her tits and i hope a second mule working with the first forced her to watch her tits get shit on i know that was a lot that was quite a bit but i i feel strongly that her mom just should have been proud of her

also 250,000 pounds in 1859. It's very hard to translate that into today's, you know, money accurately in terms of spending power. But it would equate, according to various online calculators, to at least over 40 million pounds or over 54 million dollars today. So that was a good chunk of change. With the Queen's support, Florence also helped create a royal commission into the health of the Army in 1857, not even 40 years old yet. She's only 37. The commission employed leading statisticians to analyze mortality data. that same year, Florence presented evidence before a sanitary commission.

The statisticians found that 16,000 out of 18,000 deaths during the Crimean War were caused by preventable diseases, not by battle. That is terrible. You had more reason to be afraid of going to a hospital in that war than you did have confronting the enemy on the battlefield. Florence transformed this data into a visual diagram called the Nightingale-Rose diagram that showed how the sanitary commissions work in 1855 helped decrease fatalities. by approximately 99% one year. Not sure if that was accurate. That feels very high, but that's what they presented.

Florence called her diagram's, uh, cox combs. And those were an early form of pie charts. By the way, they were not, uh, tiny combs that guys could use to brush

whatever little hairs they had grown on their cocks, okay? Uh, her diagram was widely, I don't even mean to say that. Okay, God, I have to really work on not saying that.

Uh, her diagram was widely republished because it was easy to understand. Florence knew that if she, uh, to make significant changes. She would have to present data to the leaders of the British government in a way for those fucking wig-wearing dipsets to understand. She didn't say

in those words. I feel like that's kind of what she meant. Preparing her presentations, she would work up to 20 hours a day sometimes, writing letters, obtaining data, publishing anonymously. She knew that few people would read statistical tables. So she and her team focused on designing diagrams that were interesting to look at.

You know, easy to read. Maybe he had fun colors. Florence's diagram contrasted army mortality with civilian mortality. One of her diagrams also demonstrated that peacetime soldiers living in army barracks would die at higher rates than civilian men of the same age. Months after the first publication, Parliament debated the issue of overcrowding in military barracks. Parliament moved to reform sanitary conditions of the Army and forced subcommissions, so many wigs, focus on sanitary construction, health codes, a military med school, and military statistics. The Army also launched

a data collection operation that showed these reforms were successful. successful. And this is so incredible. How many lives did she save with all this? Millions and millions and millions. I mean, tens of millions, possibly hundreds of millions going forward. When you consider that other countries would adopt these methods that she first came up with, you know, and went all around the world and then continued on and was built on, you know, for decades and decades and decades. One person doing a job that her mother was furious for a time that she pursued led to all this. A job she had to beg her, her daddy. for permission to pursue at the age of 30, a job considered to be unladylike. Thank fucking God she didn't listen to all these comparatively ignorant people, and she stayed true to her calling, right? What a good life lesson she embodied here doing this. These reforms made off of her suggestions and presentations

were then codified in the British Public Health Act of 1875, which established legal requirements for sewers, clean running water, and regulated building codes. Florence then became the first female member of the Royal Statistical Society, was also named an honorary member of the American Statistical Association as her recommendations made their way across the pond and started to save, you know, countless American lives as well.

Over the course of her lifetime, Florence would write over 200 books, pamphlets, and articles. Did all that, despite being born wealthy and encouraged for years to not work ever. She could have easily lived a life of leisure. That's what her mom wanted her to do. Could have married some other wealthy dude, increased a family fortune, You know, just supervised governesses and a house staff who would raise her kids, cook the family meals, keep their lavish estates sparkling clean. And instead, she chose to go into a war zone, literal war zone, and work in a hospital

covered in actual shit. Chose to work up to 20 hours a day, saving other people's lives after she came home, chronically ill for the rest of her life after all that. Florence even wrote a novel titled Cassandra about the lives of upper class women who were both privileged and oppressed. Cited often in like feminist essays. She wrote the first draft when she was just 22 years old. She edited the text several times but never wanted to publish it.

The book's a reflection of her struggles with depression, her mental health as a young woman. It was not published first until long after her death, not until 1928, initially as an appendix to Ray Strake's book The Cause, a Short History of the Women's Movement in Great Britain. Florence's most famous publication is her 1859 book Notes on Nursing,

what it is and what it is not. In her writing, Florence emphasized the importance of a trusting, empathetic relationship between nurse and patient. The following quotes come from some of her writings. Speaking on confidentiality, she wrote, And remember every nurse should be one who is dependent upon, in other words,

capable of being a confidential nurse. She does not know how soon she may find herself placed in such a situation. She must be no gossip. No vain talker. She should never answer questions about her sick except to those who have a right to ask them. Right? Incredible. Just the ethics there?

On building trust, she wrote, If you go without his knowing it and he finds out, he will never feel secure again that the things which depend upon you will be done when you are away. And in nine cases out of ten, he will be right. Regarding observation, she wrote, the most important practical lesson that can be given to nurses is to teach them to observe,

how to observe, what symptoms, indicate improvement, what the reverse, which are of importance, which are of none, which are the evidence of neglect, and what kind of neglect? If you cannot get into the habit of observation one way or another, you had better give up the being a nurse. In dwelling upon the vital importance of sound observation, it must never be lost sight of what observation is for. It is not for the sake of piling up miscellaneous information or curious facts, but for the sake of saving life and increasing health and comfort. On mothers, she wrote,

if one's mother refuses to feel pride and love over a daughter's incredible accomplishments, history, historical accomplishments that even the queen herself recognizes, may the good lord send a cantankerous, high bucking mule to her domicile and kick the tits right off her chest, then stomp on them, then defecate upon them as well,

of fate she has certainly earned through her shrewish, stubbornly hateful, heartless ways. She might not have written that last one. I can't. In 1859, Florence also published notes on hospitals, which provided instructions on how to run civilian hospitals. Oh, and she used that huge chunk of prize money that she'd gotten from the Queen, right,

worth over 40 million pounds in today's money, to further nursing education. In 1860, she established St. Thomas's Hospital and the Nightingale Training School for Nurses. She then established a school for the education of midwives at the King's College Hospital in 1862. Young women from all across England wanted to be like her.

A fair amount of upper class women enrolled in her training school. I could create a whole new class of, you know, of, you know, just like a new type of woman entering nursing and just would raise the pay for nursing. She just completely fucking changed how nursing was looked at. While all this was going on, Florence also dealing with,

as I mentioned, serious recurring health issues, that damn bruselosis, untreated brucellosis. They didn't know how. how to treat that bacterial infection back then, can affect you for life, flaring back over and over throughout your life, presenting a lot of symptoms, kind of like fibromyalgia or chronic fatigue syndrome, waves of fever, night sweats, extreme tiredness, right? That fatigue can cause long-term arthritis, swelling in the spine, inflammation, where the spine meets the pelvis, it can permanently harm your heart valves, enlarge your liver, enlarge your spleen, damage your nervous system, real nasty shit.

Back in the days before antibiotics and pasteurization, eat. eating the wrong chunk of cheese, drinking the wrong glass of milk, just fuck you up for life. Be so thankful for modern medicine and shit like pasteurization. Or be a fucking dipshit. By the age of 38, Florence was bedridden off and on at home, would remain so for the rest of her life. She continued working from her bed at her home in Mayfair,

even interviewed politicians and other important visitors from bed when she was ill. During the American Civil War in the early 1860s, American experts would consult Florence on how to manage field hospitals. she was all too happy to help save, you know, anybody she could. She helped everybody. One of her biggest passions was helping people who couldn't afford health care, which I do. That is gross. That part's gross.

I mean, people who can't afford health care, aren't we just, are we supposed to just let him die? I thought we're supposed to let him die. I thought we're supposed to let him fall into a paralyzing amount of debt. I thought that was the right thing to do. That's what the bald eagle told me when he fucking screeched America in my ear. In 1870, Florence sent nurses into workhouses, institutions that provided employment and housing to those who could not afford it.

Workhouses that were notoriously dirty and overcrowded. Florence also worked with officials in British occupied India to improve sanitation, famine relief, help people get access to clean drinking water. Florence acted as an authority on public sanitation issues in India for both military and civilians, even though she was never able to travel there herself due to her own, you know, chronic health problems. And how ironic, by the way, that she was doing so fucking much to help the health of others, while suffering so much ill health herself.

I mean, if anybody deserved to have a life of good health, would it not be Florence Nightingale? It doesn't seem like she ever laid around drowning itself pity, though. Beginning in the 1870s, Florence regularly corresponded with British and Indian leaders about cholera prevention, water supply, sewage disposal, a lot of poop talk. Like a lot. All of that was basically poop talk.

In 1874, Florence wrote a pamphlet titled Poop. Why I hate it? No, she might have. Might not have published it. She wrote a pamphlet titled, Life or Death in India, with an appendix on life or death by irrigation. So a little bit about poop at the end there. The pamphlet reported the progress of sanitary measures, poop, and asked the government to continue to aid local government leaders with public health efforts, largely poop-related. One of her main correspondence partners was Dr. Poop.

I don't know what's wrong with you today. It was Dr. Thomas Gillum Hewitt, the sanitary commissioner and health officer of Bombay. She gave him advice and discussed legislation. and bureaucratic concerns relating to his work. She also commented on his reports and pamphlets and promoted his work in England. Florence wanted Gillum and other leaders to reach out to local women

to help spread sanitary education. Try not to talk about poop anymore. One letter reads, My dear sir, you're aware of Lady Dufferin's scheme for reaching the native female population of India in order to teach the most ordinary facts relating to the health, to the women themselves, and to the young girls in schools.

You have kindly offered to give your invaluable help in this important matter, which must be begun quite from the beginning. The special points of information required as a very first step would be, as I think we agreed, one, how to organize a female sanitary mission. Two, what books or sanitary primers to put into the hands of the so-called missioners? Three, if a sanitary primer for Native women is a requisite, who should write it? And what is of equal consequence? Who shall read it?

Four, to find out a Native gentleman who could write a practical sanitary primer and submit before the publication to the Sannie Commissioner, who, if he approves all of it, would send it on to government with the request that it might be translated and printed in the vernaculars. Five, to inquire from your native friends, medical men, whether they know of any woman who would go into the native houses with these tracks. The advice you would give on these points would be simply priceless. Success to the endeavor to get the women of India on our side. And success to all of your noble endeavors in the great cause of sanitary progress in Indian. which have wrought such great results as to be almost a revolution

to the right way. Pray, believe me, ever your faithfully, Florence, poop hater, Nightingale. February 2nd, 1880, Florence's mom, Francis Fanny Nightingale, dies at the age of 81. And do you want to guess, do you want to guess how she died?

What? No. No, she, what? She died of dementia. Why the fuck when you say she bled out after a mule kicked her tits off and then stomped on them and then shit on her tits. That's disrespectful. Shame on you. By 1888, Florence, now 68 years old,

still working her ass off. I'm so upset about what you said earlier. It was still dissatisfied with the progress of the sanitary commissions in India. In one instance, she wrote, a curious and terrible book might be made of how we have tried to benefit the natives

and sunk them deeper than they were before. And a letter dated October 19th, 1888, she wrote, without this, without the engaging, the people themselves on our side, without convincing them of what is their own interest, we may pass what sanitary acts we please, but they remain a dead letter. We may have the most exact knowledge of what is wanted,

but we cannot carry it out. Man, she just so consistently was fighting for what was right in the right way. So it just had such a great combination of incredible moral compass, amazing work ethic, and just like vast intelligence. Florence lived in the first decade of the 20th century, continuing to work whenever she could, whenever her health allowed.

In 1907, when Florence was 87, King Edward bestowed upon her the Order of Merit, given to those who have rendered exceptional service to the crown or the advancement of the arts, literature, or science. She was the first woman to ever receive such an award. As of this recording, only 11 women have ever been admitted to the order, which started in 1902. Membership is restricted to a maximum of 24 living recipients

from the Commonwealth realms at any one given time. Can't find an exact count online, but it seems like around 200 men have received this in total. On her 90th birthday in 1910, May 12th, King George sent Florence a congratulatory message. In early August of that year, Florence became sick, which was, of course, not uncommon. She seemingly recovered for a few days then, but her condition worse on August 12th, and she died unexpectedly at 2 p.m. on August 13th at her home in London, one of her homes. Do you want to guess exactly how she died?

Dude, don't fucking say it! Don't say shit about a mule! That joke died with her mom. mom. Now she passed away peacefully in her sleep, actually. Right before she went to bed, she was like, you can accomplish so much if you don't have kids, they can ruin your life. She didn't say that, but she did accomplish a lot without them. True to her reserve nature, Florence had requested to have a small funeral, even though the entire country wanted to honor her. England's offer of a burial in Westminster Abbey, one of the nation's highest honors, was declined by her relatives, and she is

buried in the churchyard of St. Margaret's Church in East Wellow, Hampshire near Embley Park, with a memorial with just her initials and date of birth and death. Every May 12th, International Nurses Day in honor of Florence Nightingale. And now one last thing. Since she never married, there have, of course, been questions about her sexuality.

Did she ever have any lovers? It is not thought that she did. Some have speculated that she may have been queer, may have been romantically interested in women, and that's why she never married. But there's actually no evidence to support that. Not that it fucking matters, but you know, I don't think that doesn't seem to be why she didn't marry.

It seemed like she was just married to her work. Some people are married to their work. She did once right, I have lived and slept in the same beds with English countesses and Prussian farm women. No woman has excited passions amongst women more than I have. However, people talk about passion a lot differently back then compared to now. Yeah, most scholars seem to think that she was, you know, very, very asexual. That, you know, like I said, her true passion was her work.

And I mostly bring that up because I think it's funny that she's funny that she was. she was, in my opinion, I mean, she seemed very, very asexual. And I think it's so fucking funny that despite her being so asexual, her name got attached to this thing called Florence Nightingale Syndrome, if you've ever heard of that, or the Florence Nightingale effect. It is when a caregiver, such as a nurse or a doctor, just like a, you know, like a pop culture term, when they develop romantic or emotional feelings for a patient. Why would it be named after her?

Did she ever do that? Was there ever a rumor that she ever did that? No, not even one time. Literally zero evidence that she showed any romantic affection towards any patient ever. So why is her name attached to that? Nobody really knows. Other than she's considered to be the founder of modern nursing, right? So she's just a big name with the nursing.

She's the most famous nurse. And as the most famous nurse, her name just got attached to this sexualization of nurses. How much would that fucking annoy her if she came back today? Right? This incredibly asexual, career-driven, unemotional nurse, dedicated to science, the study of caregiving, being the namesake of the phenomenon of basically, you know, a nurse lusting after a patient. You know, she'd probably be like, goddammit guys! All I fucking did with dedicate myself to keeping people.

Mostly dudes, I should add, alive. Thanks all my work at the military hospitals. And what things do I get? Oh, I become synonymous with some horn dog fantasy involving a lusty lady with a Marilyn Monroe figure and a push-up bra and some fishnet stockings and high heels and very huge. little else asking to check your temperature by having you stick your meat thermometer in my hoo-ha. Oh, ha ha ha ha ha. I hope a meal kicks your nuts off right off your fucking lap and then stomps on him and shits on him. Quote, Florence Nightingale.

And that's it for this edition of Time Suck Short Sucks. Maybe I shouldn't record episodes when I'm loopy. Or maybe I should. Maybe I should always record episodes so I'm feeling a little goofy. If you enjoyed this story, good for you. And check out. I am in the fucking. most ridiculous mood. I don't even know what. Check out the rest of the bad magic catalog.

If you want to, it's your life. Be for your episodes at Time Suck every Monday at noon Pacific time. New episode to the now long running paranormal podcast, scared to death, Tuesdays at midnight, with two episodes of nightmare fuel, fictional horror. I'm working on, continue to work on, thrown into the mix each month. Thank you to Olivia Lee for her initial research and to Logan Keith, polishing up the sound of today's episode. Please go to bad magic productions.com for all your bad magic needs. And have yourself a great weekend in an honor of Florence Nightingale. Easy with your poop, right? Just only in the toilet, not on the floor. Do it for her. And Magic Productions.