Read Online It Won't Hurt a Bit by Jane Yeadon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jane Yeadon
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slumped over her desk whilst we craned forward to get a better view. This was some lecture.
Miss Jones was unperturbed. ‘Dear, dear, I shudder for the profession if this is what’s likely to happen. So what do you think we should do, girl behind the body please?’
I got up slowly, adjusted Sheila’s scarf, fiddled tentatively with her neck buttons and hopped on one leg by way of diversion.
With a sigh of exasperation, the tutor strode over and laid the patient on the floor with a gentle ease.
‘You put an unconscious patient like so, and her legs like so. We call it the Sims’ position. If she’s put like this, she won’t choke. Just take a note of that will you? I hadn’t expected to use the term so soon but you’ll meet it often enough when you’re in the wards. And remember that the patient’s dignity must be maintained as much as possible. I don’t suppose this patient really wants to be like this.’ The hand movements were quick, sure and practised. Sheila’s suspenders were hardly affected and the ‘A Present From Inverurie’ emblazoned on her knickers surely a figment of the imagination. She looked so comfortable we quite envied her, especially as it was hard not to join in Rosie’s fit of nervous giggles. Laughing might be a health hazard.
Maisie had been despatched for a drink of water or a breath of fresh air, whichever got rid of her quickest, and when she returned still ashen-faced but spectacles glinting with renewed health, she was in time for Sheila’s recovery.
‘Ah gott an affa fright. Naebody expects skeletons tae cam poppin oot like that. Weel, nay in Inverurie ony road.’ She got up slowly, shaking her head as if to check the contents, hair remaining in concrete. ‘Fit next?’
‘Ok? Right!’
Treating Sheila’s faint as mere detail, Miss Jones surged on. She held up a plastic model of something you might order from the butcher. ‘Everybody listening? Let’s move on shall we? We’ll be finding out about the liver and the heart of course. I know you’ll find them quite fascinating.’ Her teeth, reminiscent of the Home’s yellowing piano keys, flashed as she delved into a drawer, its contents rattling like dice. Then she lifted out a heart, which opened like a joke apple. ‘Marvellous realism here, Nurses, I thoroughly recommend you use it when studying.’ She smoothed over the plastic as if it needed a polish.
‘I might eat it,’ said brave Jo.
To our surprise, Miss Jones laughed, lightening the classroom atmosphere a little. Still, the coffee break came as a relief.
We gathered in an adjoining room to discuss survival prospects.
‘I wouldn’t put it past that wifie to do open heart surgery just for a laugh,’ said Rosie, looking around nervously.
‘Yes, Sheila, you were lucky to come round when you did. You might have woken up with a plastic one,’ Hazel laughed.
Isobel shrugged elegantly. ‘Well, we can’t say it’s been a dull morning. I haven’t felt so alert since putting the kitchen on fire in the nursing home where I used to work.’
‘How did you manage that?’ Fire raising had not occurred to us as a way of entertainment.
‘I found a quickie way to do a poultice by grilling it, but I wouldn’t recommend it. It can set off the fire alarm and ruins the taste of toast.’
One of the girls chuckled and patted her pocket. ‘Talking of fire, I’m dying for a fag. Anyone coming out for a breath of fresh air?’
‘For goodness sake! We haven’t time!’ Rosie tapped on her watch. ‘We don’t want to get on the wrong side of Miss Jones.’
‘Yeah – I’ll come,’ Maisie said. ‘I think my head’ll burst if I don’t and don’t worry, Rosie, we’ll be back for the next execution.’
‘On your own head be it.’
Morag pursed her lips looking like a conscientious secretary. ‘Well I’m going back. I’ve already missed half of the stuff she was saying. She’s going so fast I’m worried I can’t keep up with my notes. If I
Miss Jones was unperturbed. ‘Dear, dear, I shudder for the profession if this is what’s likely to happen. So what do you think we should do, girl behind the body please?’
I got up slowly, adjusted Sheila’s scarf, fiddled tentatively with her neck buttons and hopped on one leg by way of diversion.
With a sigh of exasperation, the tutor strode over and laid the patient on the floor with a gentle ease.
‘You put an unconscious patient like so, and her legs like so. We call it the Sims’ position. If she’s put like this, she won’t choke. Just take a note of that will you? I hadn’t expected to use the term so soon but you’ll meet it often enough when you’re in the wards. And remember that the patient’s dignity must be maintained as much as possible. I don’t suppose this patient really wants to be like this.’ The hand movements were quick, sure and practised. Sheila’s suspenders were hardly affected and the ‘A Present From Inverurie’ emblazoned on her knickers surely a figment of the imagination. She looked so comfortable we quite envied her, especially as it was hard not to join in Rosie’s fit of nervous giggles. Laughing might be a health hazard.
Maisie had been despatched for a drink of water or a breath of fresh air, whichever got rid of her quickest, and when she returned still ashen-faced but spectacles glinting with renewed health, she was in time for Sheila’s recovery.
‘Ah gott an affa fright. Naebody expects skeletons tae cam poppin oot like that. Weel, nay in Inverurie ony road.’ She got up slowly, shaking her head as if to check the contents, hair remaining in concrete. ‘Fit next?’
‘Ok? Right!’
Treating Sheila’s faint as mere detail, Miss Jones surged on. She held up a plastic model of something you might order from the butcher. ‘Everybody listening? Let’s move on shall we? We’ll be finding out about the liver and the heart of course. I know you’ll find them quite fascinating.’ Her teeth, reminiscent of the Home’s yellowing piano keys, flashed as she delved into a drawer, its contents rattling like dice. Then she lifted out a heart, which opened like a joke apple. ‘Marvellous realism here, Nurses, I thoroughly recommend you use it when studying.’ She smoothed over the plastic as if it needed a polish.
‘I might eat it,’ said brave Jo.
To our surprise, Miss Jones laughed, lightening the classroom atmosphere a little. Still, the coffee break came as a relief.
We gathered in an adjoining room to discuss survival prospects.
‘I wouldn’t put it past that wifie to do open heart surgery just for a laugh,’ said Rosie, looking around nervously.
‘Yes, Sheila, you were lucky to come round when you did. You might have woken up with a plastic one,’ Hazel laughed.
Isobel shrugged elegantly. ‘Well, we can’t say it’s been a dull morning. I haven’t felt so alert since putting the kitchen on fire in the nursing home where I used to work.’
‘How did you manage that?’ Fire raising had not occurred to us as a way of entertainment.
‘I found a quickie way to do a poultice by grilling it, but I wouldn’t recommend it. It can set off the fire alarm and ruins the taste of toast.’
One of the girls chuckled and patted her pocket. ‘Talking of fire, I’m dying for a fag. Anyone coming out for a breath of fresh air?’
‘For goodness sake! We haven’t time!’ Rosie tapped on her watch. ‘We don’t want to get on the wrong side of Miss Jones.’
‘Yeah – I’ll come,’ Maisie said. ‘I think my head’ll burst if I don’t and don’t worry, Rosie, we’ll be back for the next execution.’
‘On your own head be it.’
Morag pursed her lips looking like a conscientious secretary. ‘Well I’m going back. I’ve already missed half of the stuff she was saying. She’s going so fast I’m worried I can’t keep up with my notes. If I
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