The Serial: A Rowan Tree In My Garden Day 44

Ralph half turned his head and our eyes met: my heart leapt. He smiled that same disarming smile I had learned to love

Miss Christie entered the ward. “Nurse , stop!” she said. “That is not how you carry a screen.” Whereupon this petite neat figure took the screen from me and showed me how it should be done properly. This was a useful lesson as there was a lot of screen carrying in those days. There were none fitted round beds as there are now.

She had a stock of remarks that she made to most nurses sooner or later. Once when I was in a hurry and running, she stopped me and said: “Nurse is there a fire or a haemorrhage?” “No, Miss Christie.” “Well why are you running? Nurses never run except in an emergency.”

Sometimes we were stopped just for her to say: “Ships that pass in the night, nurse, ships that pass in the night.” We were left to our own interpretation of these few words.

There were many amusing stories that went the rounds about Miss Christie. One, that I remember well, happened when she was on a visit to a ward I was working in at the time. Nonplussed The night before, a young man had been admitted with severe injuries which required an operation. He had been in a brawl and had killed another man with a knife. Miss Christie was interested in this young murderer.

“Would it be safe for me to see him?” she asked the senior nurse on duty. “Quite safe,” the nurse replied. “He is still under anaesthetic.”

Gingerly Miss Christie approached his bed. On her moment of arrival the young man opened bleary, bloodshot eyes. Nonplussed by the situation she didn’t quite know what to say but looked down at him and remarked: “You were a naughty boy last night.” This story made its way round the hospital and was awarded the understatement of the year.

Eventually, after seven months, I got a move to Ward18 at the top of the Caird Building. It was a children’s ward and very efficiently run by Sister Crichton. What I didn’t know, then, was that a lot of these sisters had been in the army and learned army discipline.

I got on better with Sister Crichton, however, although she was very strict and had certain idiosyncrasies that had to be pandered to. I felt she was rather obsessed about the weight of babies and older children.

The most heinous crime in her book, that a nurse could commit, was to have forgotten to weigh a child or not to have noticed nits or head lice in a new admission. I fell into both of these traps at least once. It seemed like the end of the world.

There were all sorts of other idiosyncrasies belonging to this sister. There was a pretty little girl in the ward who had been there for most of her young life. She was a ‘coeliac,’ a child with digestive problems, who was fed almost solely on black, overripe bananas.

Sister Crichton loved this little girl, dressed her up in pretty dresses she had bought for her and sometimes took her to parties. She was very spoilt and it was indeed risky for a nurse to reprimand her in any way when she was naughty. Only sister was allowed to do that. Omission She also had a budgie of whom she was very fond. Its cage hung from a stand in the centre of the ward. It was the night nurse’s duty to put a cover over it each evening to let it have a proper sleep.

No one was allowed to remove the cover, other than sister herself, when she did her first round with the night nurse in the morning.

One busy night the nurse in charge had forgotten to cover the budgie and didn’t notice the omission until just before sister came on duty whereupon she swiftly rectified the matter.

As always, sister removed the cover and politely said good morning to the budgie, adding a few friendly words, when a little girl from a nearby bed piped up: “Why are you taking the cloth off the budgie’s cage when nurse has just put it on?”

It was while working in Ward 18 that I came to realise that I loved looking after children, especially babies. Mostly, the children were well behaved and often amazingly patient with their illnesses.

After visiting hour there was always a howling match when the noise was deafening but it soon calmed down when the children realised tears were not going to bring their parents back.

A few children, however, never settled and for the duration of their stay were unhappy without their parents.

Sometimes we had quite a number of babies in the ward and there were not always enough nurses to feed them all, therefore it was the ward’s policy to place the bottle in such a way in the cot that the baby could feed itself. However, there were a few babies that had to be fed by a nurse.

One morning, late in May, with the sun streaming through the high ward windows I was sitting bottle feeding a baby who had difficulty sucking. I was totally absorbed in this occupation and took no notice of the bevy of doctors and students that had entered the ward.

The baby stopped sucking and I placed the bottle on the locker. It was then that I took a cursory look in the direction of the doctors and students. My heart stopped beating for a moment.

Among them stood one taller than the others and with fair, wavy, unmistakable hair, Ralph. Speechless I had always hoped to see him in the hospital one day but never had until that moment. I started to feed the baby again and wondered if he would notice me. The group approached the cot I was sitting beside.

Ralph half turned his head, our eyes met: my heart leapt. He smiled that same disarming smile I had learned to love.

The doctors looked at the chart hanging at the bottom of the cot and discussed briefly the baby’s condition.

Just as they were about to move on Ralph managed to sidle over to me and say in a low voice: “Feeding a baby suits you. You were meant to have a lot of children.” I smiled up at him speechless. I didn’t need to reply. Ralph went on quickly speaking in a low voice: “I’ve nearly finished my training and will be off to London shortly, must see you before I go. When’s your next evening off?”

“Friday,” I replied. “See you at Green’s picture house at seven o’clock. OK?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied and with that he rejoined his fellow students, all soon to become qualified doctors. (More tomorrow.)