Don’T Be Shy, Nurse!

Kaye Caradoc‏

נוב׳ 2013 · AuthorHouse

מידע על הספר הדיגיטלי הזה

Nurses today have very different lives and training from those who embarked upon this career 40 years ago. This is this is an account of the three years training of a nurse set in a London hospital in the 1960s. It is the story of one initially naive student nurse and her colleagues, as they progress from their first days as the junior girls, to the day when they eventually hold the letters of professional competence in their hands. In order to arrive at this senior status, they experience many highs and lows, from the day of their arrival onto their first wards, where they are faced with the often, terrifying domination of the ward sisters; we then walk with them through the partings of the ways and the reunions, as they are split up and seconded to other branches of the hospital. Throughout the three years, we get to know of not just the hard work and discipline, but also of their friendships, laughter, and tears. Nurses in training today, will be surprised at the sometimes dreadfully outdated and old -fashioned lives which these 1960s nurses, seem to live, but they will no doubt be charmed and fascinated too, by this really lovely story which is not so much about medical procedures and practices but is as much about the lives of those young girls who chose to leave home and live their lives in this way.

על המחבר

As I pulled up my car, a little wide of the curb, due to the recent fall of snow, I glanced into the wing mirror. I had spotted a well-dressed man trying to pick his way along through the slushy mess, lying on the side of the road. He was looking ever more familiar as he drew even closer. I blinked and stared harder into the mirror, before turning to get a better view and dropped down the window, before, very slowly realizing, that it was David. ‘It’s been a long time,’ he said, stopping and smiling in surprise. ‘How is my daughter these days?’ Back at home as I took off my damp district nurse coat and hat, I glanced up at my bookshelf and there sat Anthony; just as he always did. ‘I don’t need any advice from you Anthony,’ I said. ‘even though you are old and wise, and still indeed, a very, very handsome bear, with your suit now a bit ragged around the edges. It was knitted especially for you by that lady on my first ward. Do you remember how insistent she was about knitting a big yellow T into the jumper? A bit faded now isn’t it and a bit grubby too... I know – tomorrow I’ll give it a wash.’ I made myself a cup of tea, sat on the sofa and put my feet up, as – – yawning I drifted off.