Read Online Elephant Man by Christine Sparks - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christine Sparks
Ads: Link
the far end of the corridor, about to climb a staircase. On the wall by the stair a notice pointed upward, stating “Isolation Ward.”
The new cart, piled high with fresh full trays, was ready for her now, and she wheeled it out and down the corridor to Women’s Surgical. With any luck Mrs. Mothershead should have gone.
Her luck was out. The Head Matron was still in the ward, but down the far end, absorbed in a conversation with a patient. Nora edged the cart in slowly and steadied it while other nurses came forward to lift trays off and begin gliding swiftly down the ward to serve breakfast. Many of the patients looked as though the sight of the grey sludge made them want to gag. Nora wondered if it was cooked on the assumption that sick people didn’t know what they were eating. Just how sick did you have to be not to notice this stuff?
She remembered the strange hooded figure in the corridor. What sort of illness made someone want to cover himself completely? A skin disease perhaps that covered him with ugly patches? That would fit in with the patient being taken to the Isolation Ward.
She wished she knew more about skin diseases. Infact she wished she knew more about everything. Nurses, it seemed to her, weren’t taught anything much except how to be medical maids of all work. Half of it was scrubbing and cleaning and cooking as you did at home. It wasn’t really interesting work like doctors did. Now if only …
“Nora!”
She came out of her reverie to find Mrs. Mothershead’s stern face confronting her. “Nora, mind your duties. If you don’t concentrate, you’ll only make more work for the rest of us. Now get about your business.” She frowned. “And
do
get your collar straight, dear.”
The last word was not an endearment, but it took some of the brusque edge off the words. Nora fumbled hastily with her collar.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Mothershead.”
“Do get on with it, Nora.”
She walked on without waiting to see the results. Nora finished her repair work and picked up a tray to begin serving. When next she looked the Matron had gone. She wondered when she’d get her breakfast.
It took Treves nearly twenty minutes to get the Elephant Man to the top floor of the hospital because of the lengthy stops at the start and finish of each staircase and the slow dragging progress down the corridors. At first he was aware of the odd stares from people they passed, but absorbed in his patient, he soon became oblivious to them. He did not even notice when the door of Mr. Carr-Gomm’s office opened, and the Chairman of the Administrative Committee looked out for an explanation of the strange noises in the corridor. After a moment Carr-Gomm returned to his office and closed the door.
The Isolation Ward was a small attic under the roof, well away from the rest of the hospital and containing only one bed. High up on one wall was a small window, tightly barred. All too often contagion meant typhoid, and typhoid meant delirium. Not too manyyears ago a typhoid patient had hurled himself from an upper window to his death.
Apart from the one bed the room was furnished with two hard chairs and a table. Treves dumped his bag on this and used both arms to help the man lower himself slowly to the bed. He loosened the cloak and pulled it away, letting it fall round the man on the bed. The hat and mask he tossed onto a peg on the wall. The Elephant Man neither helped nor protested. He seemed ten times weaker than when they had left Turners Road. The journey had exhausted him and his breathing was more agonized than ever.
Treves went to his bag and took from it two bottles, one of dark fluid, one of light. He took out a glass and in it mixed a small quantity of each fluid. Then he looked critically at what he had mixed. It was what might roughly be described as a “pick-me-up,” of little medical value but useful in the short term.
He pressed it gently on the Elephant Man, who spluttered and gagged but finally
The new cart, piled high with fresh full trays, was ready for her now, and she wheeled it out and down the corridor to Women’s Surgical. With any luck Mrs. Mothershead should have gone.
Her luck was out. The Head Matron was still in the ward, but down the far end, absorbed in a conversation with a patient. Nora edged the cart in slowly and steadied it while other nurses came forward to lift trays off and begin gliding swiftly down the ward to serve breakfast. Many of the patients looked as though the sight of the grey sludge made them want to gag. Nora wondered if it was cooked on the assumption that sick people didn’t know what they were eating. Just how sick did you have to be not to notice this stuff?
She remembered the strange hooded figure in the corridor. What sort of illness made someone want to cover himself completely? A skin disease perhaps that covered him with ugly patches? That would fit in with the patient being taken to the Isolation Ward.
She wished she knew more about skin diseases. Infact she wished she knew more about everything. Nurses, it seemed to her, weren’t taught anything much except how to be medical maids of all work. Half of it was scrubbing and cleaning and cooking as you did at home. It wasn’t really interesting work like doctors did. Now if only …
“Nora!”
She came out of her reverie to find Mrs. Mothershead’s stern face confronting her. “Nora, mind your duties. If you don’t concentrate, you’ll only make more work for the rest of us. Now get about your business.” She frowned. “And
do
get your collar straight, dear.”
The last word was not an endearment, but it took some of the brusque edge off the words. Nora fumbled hastily with her collar.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Mothershead.”
“Do get on with it, Nora.”
She walked on without waiting to see the results. Nora finished her repair work and picked up a tray to begin serving. When next she looked the Matron had gone. She wondered when she’d get her breakfast.
It took Treves nearly twenty minutes to get the Elephant Man to the top floor of the hospital because of the lengthy stops at the start and finish of each staircase and the slow dragging progress down the corridors. At first he was aware of the odd stares from people they passed, but absorbed in his patient, he soon became oblivious to them. He did not even notice when the door of Mr. Carr-Gomm’s office opened, and the Chairman of the Administrative Committee looked out for an explanation of the strange noises in the corridor. After a moment Carr-Gomm returned to his office and closed the door.
The Isolation Ward was a small attic under the roof, well away from the rest of the hospital and containing only one bed. High up on one wall was a small window, tightly barred. All too often contagion meant typhoid, and typhoid meant delirium. Not too manyyears ago a typhoid patient had hurled himself from an upper window to his death.
Apart from the one bed the room was furnished with two hard chairs and a table. Treves dumped his bag on this and used both arms to help the man lower himself slowly to the bed. He loosened the cloak and pulled it away, letting it fall round the man on the bed. The hat and mask he tossed onto a peg on the wall. The Elephant Man neither helped nor protested. He seemed ten times weaker than when they had left Turners Road. The journey had exhausted him and his breathing was more agonized than ever.
Treves went to his bag and took from it two bottles, one of dark fluid, one of light. He took out a glass and in it mixed a small quantity of each fluid. Then he looked critically at what he had mixed. It was what might roughly be described as a “pick-me-up,” of little medical value but useful in the short term.
He pressed it gently on the Elephant Man, who spluttered and gagged but finally
Similar Books
