In the early fifties, children were expected not to 'make a fuss'. I fell in the playground when I was seven, and my leg snapped. I was skeletally thin and tiny. I remember the headmistress scooping me up in her arms and getting very cross because I was weeping. The pain was excruciating.
An ambulance was called and my mother appeared, to accompany me to hospital. I waited what seemed like an age in a wheelchair (perhaps two hours) before they wheeled me off to X ray, where they manhandled my poor leg mercilessly to get a good picture.
The attitude of all the folk around me was to exhort me to maintain a 'stiff upper lip'. No pain relief was given, and honestly, I can still remember the agony all these years later.
Luckily I had a general anaesthetic for the bone to be set!