Medical Tales

The year was 1969 and I was keen to train as a nurse. My two children, a boy and a girl, were now of an age and growing up, allowing me time and energy to plan a career. I was living in Perth at the time and an advert in the local paper just fell in my lap. The timing was perfect. The Council were looking for volunteers to train for something called the National Hospital Service Reserve (NHSR).   If any calamity befell the citizens of Perth, say for instance a train crash, the volunteers would be on hand to help. Firstly, we had to obtain First Aid and Home Nursing Certificates. A minibus was laid on for us travelling from Perth to the Bridge of Earn Hospital every Tuesday evening for a few weeks to train and gain these certificates. There were ten of us on the bus and I was in my element. I very much enjoyed the training; I was on my way to my new career. We worked in pairs doing bandaging and first aid. Another bonus for life. Miss Johnston, Matron of the Bridge of Earn Hos...

 I started my nurse training at Park Hospital, Davyhulme in August 1985. It was not quite the days of Matron, aprons, starched hats and silver belt buckles - although the latter two were holding out in some quarters. It was still very hierarchical but informality was beginning to replace the rigid structure of old. It was into this mixture of styles that I undertook my first steps on the wards. Nursing had always been a very hierarchical profession; Ward Sister ruling her fiefdom with a rod of iron. As a student I was in the Training School for a period of six weeks before venturing onto the wards. One’s first day on the wards was always a scary time ; the rumours of strict discipline, exacting standards and hard work filled us with dread. The first shift always started the same way. I would be looking out for another student to show me around the ward and after ten minutes of rushed introductions it was time for the meeting with the ward sister in her office. I remember stand...