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Blog 90 Alan’s story A nurse’s tale from days gone by

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  Alan was a four year old boy who had been on the children’s ward for several weeks.           His strength was slowly slipping away.    On his ‘good’ days, he would play with the other children, enjoying the toys and teddy bears that they invariably had – but he had not.     On his ‘bad’ days he was confined to his bed grateful to anyone who would keep him company.        There were plenty of ‘bad’ days - for Alan had leukaemia.     On visiting days , only three times a week in those days, the nurses made up for his missing family. His parents lived far away and were too upset to visit; no one sent him toys. It was 1953 and we were about to have a coronation.  A gleaming, golden coach, made by one of the nurses’ dad stood at the ward entrance. Red white and blue flags and streamers festooned the ward as the excitement grew.   We knew what the queen looked like; the papers were full of her pictures, we saw her on newsreel at the cinema but we were going to see her for real.   A gene
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Post 89 Unfit for human consumption

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 ‘Telephone for you, Mr Lambert.’ I groaned; why, oh why, do people have to ring in the middle of my Monday clinic interrupting me when I’m busy with a patient. ‘Is it urgent?’ I ask of the nurse who had brought the message. Apparently it was so I apologised to the ‘dishabille’ patient. The caller was new to me, Dr Crispan Brown.       He introduced himself as an occupational health doctor who acted as advisor to various local manufacturers, including the giant Best British Baking Company who had a large factory only a mile from the hospital.       Their bread, biscuits and cakes are a household name throughout the country. ‘We have a rather urgent problem at the factory,’ Dr Brown explained after apologising for the intrusion.     ‘There’s been an unfortunate accident this morning,      I need your advice as to whether a certain batch of loaves are fit to be sold.’ ‘What precisely is the problem,’ I asked. ‘I rather not say any more on the phone; it’s rather sensitive.  
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Post 88 Marriage Proposals Sixties style

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 Only rarely these days will a young man be sufficiently old fashioned  to  ask a girl's father for permission to take her hand in marriage.  It is understandable that fathers wish to interrogate those wishing to marry their daughters, not least to make certain they are financially secure.    The experience of a father of four daughters demonstrates this well. When a friend commented how much better off he must be now that all his daughters were married, he remarked    ‘Yes,   it’s great to have my daughters off my hands. My problem now is keeping four son-in-laws on their feet.’ One young man complained of his inability to save enough money to contemplate marriage. ‘ It’s not the cost of the car,’  he explained,  ‘it’s the cost of all the accessories.’   ‘Yes,’  his father replied,  ‘especially those with short skirts and blond hair.’ In these modern times, it is rare for a young man to formally ask a father for his daughter’s hand in marriage but in the 50s and 60s this was a
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