War Nurse by Sue Reid

Author:Sue Reid
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic
Published: 2012-01-07T16:00:00+00:00

Monday 15 January

Jean was right. When I went on duty last night the patients smiled at me and for once they all did exactly as I asked. In a quiet moment, one of them beckoned me over. “This is for you, Nurse,” he whispered, holding out some chocolate. I think it was the first time any of my patients had called me nurse. I nearly did burst into tears then.

Monday 5 February

I was transferred to the Surgical ward today. Jean and I are both pleased about this – we’re working together again.

My first proper job was to “special” a patient, who’d had his appendix removed and was recovering in a side room.

“His temperature’s a little high,” Sister told me. “I’d like you to do the ‘obs’ every half an hour.”

“Yes, Sister,” I said, and leaned over my patient to pop a thermometer into his mouth. And his temperature was high. Sister had told me that he’d had his operation two days ago.

The next “obs” I had to do was check my patient’s pulse and breathing.

Later, the surgeon popped round to see our patient. Sister unrolled the bandage from his tummy and the surgeon bent over the wound to examine it. It wasn’t red, hot or swollen – the tell-tale signs of infection. He checked his patient’s pulse. It wasn’t too fast. No clots in the lung to worry about either, then.

After the surgeon had gone, the door to the side room opened again. It was Jean with a cup of tea for me. Was I pleased to see it – and her.

“I’m not sure you deserve this,” she said, pretending to be annoyed. “I wish I’d been able to spend my morning sitting in a chair.”

By lunch time my patient’s temperature had started to come down and he smiled at me for the first time. Sister came in and told me to reduce his obs to two-hourly. She looked awfully pleased. That moment when a patient starts to get better – there’s nothing like it.

In the afternoon I had to keep an eye on a patient who’d been sick. After they come round from surgery patients are often sick. Luckily I was to hand when I saw him struggle to sit up. He looked at me. I knew that look.

“Oh, miss, I feel awfully dizzy,” he murmured. I thrust a bowl under his mouth just in time, and then I propped him up and Sister told me to give him a little warm water and bicarbonate of soda to sip. Even with that the poor boy was sick again. Three times I had to clean up after him.

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