pleasant-looking fellow, about three years older than ourselves.
‘Look,’ he went on cheerfully. ‘Get a sheet of instructions from Sister Virtue and see how you get on examining a few patients. I’ve got a lumbar puncture and a couple of aspirations to do, but I’ll give you a hand when I can.’
He disappeared again. The small glow of self-importance over our promotion was dimmed. Glancing nervously at one another we went through the doors into the ward.
The houseman had already disappeared behind some screens round a bed at the far end. One or two nurses were busy attending to the patients. The four of us stood by the door for ten minutes. No one took the slightest notice.
From a small door on one side of the ward the Sister appeared. She immediately bore down on our quartet.
‘Get out!’ she hissed savagely.
I had never seen a sister close to before. This unexpected proximity had the effect of being in a rowing-boat under the bows of the Queen Mary .
Sister Virtue was a fine body of a woman. She was about six feet tall, her figure was as burly as a policeman’s, and she advanced on her adversaries with two belligerent breasts. Even her broad bottom as she passed looked as formidable as the stern of a battleship. Her dress was speckless blue and her apron as crisp as a piece of paper. She had a face like the side of a quarry and wore a fine grey moustache.
My immediate impulse was to turn and run screaming down the stairs. Indeed, all of us jumped back anxiously, as if afraid she might bite. But we stood our ground.
‘We’re the new clerks,’ I mumbled in a dry voice.
She looked at us as if we were four unpleasant objects some patient had just brought up.
‘I won’t have any nonsense here,’ she said abruptly. ‘None at all.’
We nodded our heads briskly, indicating that nonsense of any sort was not contemplated.
‘You’re not to come in the ward after twelve o’clock, in the afternoons, or after six in the evening. Understand?’
Her eyes cauterized each of us in turn.
‘And you’re not to interfere with the nurses.’
Grimsdyke raised an eyebrow.
‘Don’t be cheeky!’ she snapped.
She turned quickly to her desk and came back with some foolscap sheets of typewritten notes.
‘Take these,’ she commanded.
We selected a sheet each. They were headed ‘Instructions on Case-Taking for Students.’
‘You may look at patients number five, eight, twelve, and twenty,’ Sister Virtue went on sternly. ‘You will replace the bedclothes neatly. You will always ask the staff nurse for a chaperon before examining any female patient below the head and neck. Kindly remember that I do not like students in my ward at all, but we are forced to put up with you.’
Her welcome finished, she spun round and sailed off to give a probationer hell for not dusting the window-ledges the correct way.
We silently crept through the doors and leant against the wall of the corridor outside to read the instruction papers. Grimsdyke was the only one to speak.
‘I wonder if she goes to lunch on a broomstick?’ he said.
I turned my thoughts to the typewritten paper. ‘A careful history must be taken before the patient is examined,’ I read. There followed a list of things to ask. It started off easily enough – ‘Name. Address. Age. Marital state. Occupation. For how long? Does he like it?’ It continued with a detailed interrogation on the efficiency with which the patient performed every noticeable physiological function from coughing to coitus.
I turned the page over. The other side was headed ‘Examination.’ I read halfway down, but I was burning to try my luck on a real patient. I stuffed the paper in my pocket, like a child tossing aside the instructions for working a new complicated toy. I carefully put my nose inside the door and was relieved to find Sister had returned to her lair. I thought she was probably digesting someone.
Timidly I walked down the rows of beds to patient number
‘Look,’ he went on cheerfully. ‘Get a sheet of instructions from Sister Virtue and see how you get on examining a few patients. I’ve got a lumbar puncture and a couple of aspirations to do, but I’ll give you a hand when I can.’
He disappeared again. The small glow of self-importance over our promotion was dimmed. Glancing nervously at one another we went through the doors into the ward.
The houseman had already disappeared behind some screens round a bed at the far end. One or two nurses were busy attending to the patients. The four of us stood by the door for ten minutes. No one took the slightest notice.
From a small door on one side of the ward the Sister appeared. She immediately bore down on our quartet.
‘Get out!’ she hissed savagely.
I had never seen a sister close to before. This unexpected proximity had the effect of being in a rowing-boat under the bows of the Queen Mary .
Sister Virtue was a fine body of a woman. She was about six feet tall, her figure was as burly as a policeman’s, and she advanced on her adversaries with two belligerent breasts. Even her broad bottom as she passed looked as formidable as the stern of a battleship. Her dress was speckless blue and her apron as crisp as a piece of paper. She had a face like the side of a quarry and wore a fine grey moustache.
My immediate impulse was to turn and run screaming down the stairs. Indeed, all of us jumped back anxiously, as if afraid she might bite. But we stood our ground.
‘We’re the new clerks,’ I mumbled in a dry voice.
She looked at us as if we were four unpleasant objects some patient had just brought up.
‘I won’t have any nonsense here,’ she said abruptly. ‘None at all.’
We nodded our heads briskly, indicating that nonsense of any sort was not contemplated.
‘You’re not to come in the ward after twelve o’clock, in the afternoons, or after six in the evening. Understand?’
Her eyes cauterized each of us in turn.
‘And you’re not to interfere with the nurses.’
Grimsdyke raised an eyebrow.
‘Don’t be cheeky!’ she snapped.
She turned quickly to her desk and came back with some foolscap sheets of typewritten notes.
‘Take these,’ she commanded.
We selected a sheet each. They were headed ‘Instructions on Case-Taking for Students.’
‘You may look at patients number five, eight, twelve, and twenty,’ Sister Virtue went on sternly. ‘You will replace the bedclothes neatly. You will always ask the staff nurse for a chaperon before examining any female patient below the head and neck. Kindly remember that I do not like students in my ward at all, but we are forced to put up with you.’
Her welcome finished, she spun round and sailed off to give a probationer hell for not dusting the window-ledges the correct way.
We silently crept through the doors and leant against the wall of the corridor outside to read the instruction papers. Grimsdyke was the only one to speak.
‘I wonder if she goes to lunch on a broomstick?’ he said.
I turned my thoughts to the typewritten paper. ‘A careful history must be taken before the patient is examined,’ I read. There followed a list of things to ask. It started off easily enough – ‘Name. Address. Age. Marital state. Occupation. For how long? Does he like it?’ It continued with a detailed interrogation on the efficiency with which the patient performed every noticeable physiological function from coughing to coitus.
I turned the page over. The other side was headed ‘Examination.’ I read halfway down, but I was burning to try my luck on a real patient. I stuffed the paper in my pocket, like a child tossing aside the instructions for working a new complicated toy. I carefully put my nose inside the door and was relieved to find Sister had returned to her lair. I thought she was probably digesting someone.
Timidly I walked down the rows of beds to patient number
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