Miss Nightingale's Nurses

by Kate Eastham

  Ada stared longingly after her mentor as she walked away and then looked back at her charge in the bed. So far so good: he seemed to be drifting back to sleep. But then his eyes popped open and he gazed at her. He had such a wild look in his eyes, scanning her face, searching for someone, still muttering to himself. She forced herself to look at him steadily and then he started to murmur, ‘Nurse, nurse, nurse.’

  Ada glanced around, hoping to see one. And then she realized that the patient was looking at her; she was the nurse. Oh my God, she thought to herself, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that it’s my first day and I’m completely useless.

  Looking around again, desperately trying to find something that might help, her eyes fell on the spouted cup. Yes, she thought, that’s it, I’ll try the drink.

  ‘Do you want some water?’ she asked gently.

  The man just repeated what she had said: ‘Do you want some water?’ then, ‘Does she want a drink, does she?’ He wasn’t making much sense but Ada picked up the cup anyway. He took it readily at first but then pushed it away, slopping water on the bed. She tried to hold his hand but he was plucking at the bed cover one minute and then at the mattress the next. So long as he keeps those hands away from the bandage, thought Ada, trying to stay calm.

  Hearing a strangled moan from the bed behind, Ada twisted round on her chair. The soldier lying there was restless and had started to throw off his blanket. She carefully placed it back over him before turning back to Mr Jackson, but to her alarm she found him trying to swing his legs sideways and get up from the bed. Instinctively Ada swung him back to lie down. She knew, any fool would know, that his legs would never hold him and he would fall. He cursed at her but didn’t have the strength to fight.

  Ada looked up with relief to see Rose and Sister Roberts coming down the ward towards her. She was so happy to see them she almost got up and hugged them.

  ‘Are you all right?’ said Rose.

  ‘Yes, all fine,’ replied Ada through gritted teeth as the old soldier tried again to get up from his bed and she wrestled him back down.

  She looked up to see Rose smiling at her. ‘You’re doing a good job,’ she said. Ada didn’t think so but she managed the grimace of a smile in return.

  ‘I see what you mean, Nurse Blackwood,’ said Sister Roberts. ‘There is a definite change in his condition. Beyond a dose of laudanum to settle him there isn’t much else that we can do.’

  ‘Shall I try to do the dressing and re-bandage?’ asked Rose.

  ‘No, I would leave it,’ said Sister. ‘The bandage is firm; we wouldn’t be doing him any favours. Come with me and we’ll get him some laudanum and see if he settles.’

  ‘Will you be all right?’ said Rose to Ada.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ada, not really believing herself for one moment but seeing no alternative other than to run screaming out of the ward.

  ‘I’ll be back directly,’ said Rose.

  As soon as Rose had gone Ada’s patient seemed to rouse up again and this time started pulling at his bandage. She moved instinctively to gently but firmly pull his hand down to the bed and then hold it still. This seemed to give the man some ease, just the simple human contact of holding his hand, and Ada felt a swell of satisfaction that she might be doing the right thing, but then he started muttering again and twisting his head from side to side.

  As long as that bandage stays put, she thought.

  Then the patient behind her gave another groan and when she looked round he was throwing his blanket off again, clearly agitated. She moved to pick up the blanket but as she leant over the stench from his bed made her gag and then she couldn’t stop herself from gasping at the sight of the crudely fashioned stump of an above-knee amputation that had worked loose from its bandage. It was stitched up tight with black thread, bright red and swollen, looking like it might burst open. The poor man couldn’t keep it down on the bed; it seemed to have a life of its own. She quickly threw the corner of the blanket over him, knowing full well that it wouldn’t stay there for long.

  Turning back to Mr Jackson she was relieved to see Rose coming back at quite a pace with a small bottle in her hand.

  ‘I’ll have a look at him in the next bed in a minute,’ said Rose and then Ada watched as she deftly took a dropper out of the small bottle and counted some drops of laudanum into the man’s mouth. He seemed to like the taste.

  Rose moved to the next bed and set to work reapplying the bandage. She explained that the ‘above-knees’ required the stump to be weighted down: ‘Like this,’ she said, showing Ada the thick band of cloth and the two small sandbags that were applied to keep the remains of the leg on the bed. Ada still felt uncomfortable looking at it, but when Rose explained that the soldier no longer had the sheer weight of his leg to hold it down, it made sense and interested Ada. This place still felt like some circle of Hell but maybe there were practical things that could be done to ease the suffering of the poor souls trapped here.

  Turning her attention back to Mr Jackson, Ada saw that he was still picking at the blanket but was perhaps a little more settled and drowsy.

  ‘Are you all right to sit for a bit longer?’ said Rose. ‘Just until he’s sleeping.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Ada, beginning to feel a bit more confident but still hoping that the man in the next bed didn’t start up again.

  ‘When he’s properly settled come over and help me, will you?’

  Ada nodded and turned back to her charge, praying that he wouldn’t try to get out of bed again. She was relieved to see that he was becoming more drowsy all the time. Maybe she could leave him soon. Feeling guilty, she again offered him some water and was glad that this time he took a few sips without any bother. Then slowly his eyes began to close and he seemed to be drifting off, gently murmuring to himself. When she could see that he was settling she started to relax, but she certainly wasn’t going to leave him yet, not until he was properly asleep. She didn’t want him to try and get up again and fall. That would be terrible.

  She stood up and started to straighten the sheet over the patient and then pulled his pillow into what she thought was a more comfortable position, very carefully indeed so that she didn’t wake him up again. But she could see that he was starting to slip into a very sleepy state.

  ‘He seems to be settling now. That’s good,’ said a man’s deep voice with a decidedly Scottish accent.

  Ada looked up to see the concerned face of the patient in the opposite bed. The man was huge, with a startling beard streaked with red. She had been so preoccupied with her charge and the man in the bed behind her that she hadn’t taken much notice of anyone else. The man was so tall that he didn’t fit into the bed properly, and although Ada could see that he was quite skinny, as were all the soldiers that she’d seen out here, his shoulders and chest seemed to measure the full width of the bed.

  ‘He’s had a really bad night,’ said the man, looking at his neighbour with such tenderness that Ada was almost moved to tears. ‘I had to keep calling for the orderly on and off all night. He was shouting and seemed to be in a lot of pain and then he kept trying to get out of bed. I was so worried that he’d fall and hurt himself. Poor Stan, things don’t seem to be going all that well for him, do they?’

  Ada was quite taken aback and she didn’t know what to say at first. Then she thought it best just to tell him the truth.

  ‘I don’t really know,’ she said. ‘It’s my first day and I don’t know much about anything yet.’

  ‘Ah, right, I thought you must be new – not that it really shows all that much,’ he said, seeing the anxious look on her face. ‘But first days anywhere are hard work, aren’t they? You just look a bit tense, that’s all. I mean I knew that I hadn’t seen you before so I thought that you must be new.’

  ‘I’ve only been in the Crimea a few days,’ said Ada.

  ‘Lucky you,’ said the man with a grim smile. ‘Me and my lot have been here since the start, since last year.’

 
‘I heard about all those battles, were you …?’

  ‘Yes, every single one of them. But anyway, what’s your name and where are you from?’

  ‘I’m … Nurse Houston,’ she said, remembering just in time that Sister Roberts had told her not to use first names with patients.

  ‘Welcome to the ward, Nurse Houston,’ said the man. ‘I’m Duncan Brodie – you can call me Duncan – 42nd Royal Highlanders, and that there is Stanley Jackson, 47th Lancashire Regiment.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you … both,’ said Ada, looking back down to her charge, who was now sleeping soundly. ‘I think he’s settled now,’ she said, standing up from the chair.

  ‘Don’t you worry,’ said Duncan. ‘I’ll give you nurses a shout if I see him stirring. I can’t go anywhere; once I’m awake that’s me, just sitting here for the rest of the day.’

  ‘That must be hard,’ said Ada, walking over to the side of his bed.

  ‘Well, it’s better than ending up like poor old Stan there and some might think that I’d be glad of this, getting out of the way of those shells, but the thing is, and a young lass like you might not be able to understand, I want to be out there. I want to be with the men. We’ve come through so many battles … I just wish we could finish this war side by side.’

  Ada felt her heart swell. She didn’t fully understand what he was saying, of course not, but the passion that she saw in the man’s eyes as he spoke, she could feel that all right; it would rouse a fire in anyone’s belly. She had to swallow really hard to stop tears welling up in her eyes, but in that moment she had started to understand something about all the men in this ward – they were bound together for life.

  Ada gave a nod and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. Life here was raw. It was raw and it was real and already her heart was beginning to beat a little faster.

  Looking down the bed she saw that the sheet lay flat where Duncan’s right lower leg should have been. He saw her looking and gave her a smile.

  ‘Oh, it’s the leg … well, it isn’t there any more. It was the leg, but Dr Lampeter kindly removed it for me, so it is no more.’

  ‘I see,’ said Ada, her mind flashing back to the horror of the amputation that she’d witnessed at the dock.

  He must have seen the look on her face. ‘I know, it’s a brutal procedure, and the British army don’t use chloroform, not like the French, but I did get about half a bottle of whisky first so that took the edge off a bit. Put it this way: it had to be done; it was the leg or me in the end. And now I’ve got through and things seem to be just about healed, well, I’m on the best side of it. It’s strange, though, I can still feel that leg even though it isn’t there. I can still feel it and the blasted thing is still giving me jip!’

  ‘How strange,’ said Ada, fascinated.

  ‘Doc says that’s what they call phantom pain and it might get better or it might not. Anyway, I’m still here and that’s all that matters. The wife will have a bit of a shock when I turn up on one leg. I’ve written to her but the letters take so long I might be back before she gets it. Aye, but she’s a strong Highland lass, so she’ll be all right with it.’

  Ada could have stood there and listened to Duncan Brodie all day. He had a rich voice with a wonderful accent and she had never met anyone who was so easy to talk to. But she knew that she might be needed elsewhere.

  ‘I’d better go and find Nurse Blackwood,’ she said, starting to move away from the bed, but then her eye caught a tall, feathery hat with a magnificent red plume on the floor by his bed. She had never seen anything like it.

  ‘That there is a feather bonnet,’ he said, ‘my pride and joy. That and the red jacket are all I have left of my regimental uniform – the rest was ripped and torn off but I still have the bonnet and I’ll be taking it back to Scotland with me.’

  ‘It is magnificent,’ said Ada, reaching down to feel the soft, feathery plume. She could see a badge and a tartan headband that the bonnet was resting on. ‘What a sight it must be to see a regiment of men like you, all in your red coats and these hats. It must be glorious.’

  ‘We wear kilts as well in the regiment. Do you know what a kilt is?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ada. ‘I come from Liverpool and we see people from all over the world in the city.’

  ‘Even Scotland?’ said the man, starting to laugh.

  ‘Even Scotland,’ she said, smiling back at him. Then, seeing Rose looking anxiously down the ward for her, Ada knew it was time to get going. ‘Well, Mr Brodie, it’s been nice to meet you but I need to go and help Nurse Blackwood now.’

  ‘Aye, nice to meet you too, lass,’ said the man. ‘And don’t you fret, I’ll give a shout if I’m worried about Stan.’

  Rose was back at Arnold’s bed.

  ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Ada asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Rose straight away. ‘Are the two men down the ward settled?’

  ‘Yes they are, and the patient in the opposite bed said he would shout out if anything more was needed.’

  Rose nodded. ‘Well then, would you like to give Arnold a drink?’

  ‘Just show me what to do,’ said Ada.

  Rose demonstrated how to use the spouted cup, making sure the tea wasn’t too hot, and not to give too much at once, and then she went down the ward to tend to another patient.

  Ada’s hand shook slightly as she had a first go, worried that she might choke the poor sod. It was hard to be so close to someone so badly injured and with such a look of pain in his eyes. She was terrified of doing anything that might make him feel worse, but she knew that this was the only way she would learn.

  It took her a while to find a technique that worked, and at first she found that quite a bit of the liquid leaked back out of his mouth and on to the sheet. His swallowing didn’t seem to be right either and she stood up in alarm when the boy started choking.

  Rose came back up the ward to help, explaining that this happened sometimes and showing her what to do. Ada asked Rose what had happened to his arms and was told that he had been shot, but not too badly, and in a few weeks they would be able to remove his bindings and get his arms moving again. Rose made sure that she looked at and spoke to Arnold, including him in this conversation, and Ada followed her lead and did the same. Too many of the staff seemed to assume that because he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t understand, and treated him as if he was an imbecile.

  While they stood by the bed, a figure came up behind them, and Ada turned and gasped when she saw the doctor from the harbour staring straight at her.

  Rose shot a glance of concern in her direction. ‘Dr Lampeter,’ she said, ‘this is our new nurse.’

  ‘We’ve met,’ said Lampeter, not even looking at Ada and waiting for Rose to give him a report on Arnold’s condition. Ada continued to give Arnold sips of tea. She could tell that he was listening to every detail of Rose’s conversation with the doctor. It seemed that they were very pleased with the wound and in a few weeks’ time they would be able to take the bindings off his arms. Ada was impressed by Rose’s knowledge and compassion, and how she continued to make eye contact with Arnold. She was fascinated by the way Rose spoke and how her eyes shone with enthusiasm for the work.

  As Rose was winding up her report, Sister Roberts appeared. She glanced over to Ada and quietly said, ‘Are you all right, Nurse Houston?’

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ replied Ada, turning back to her patient to give him a few more sips of tea. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lampeter steal a glance at her before he went off down the ward with Sister Roberts and Rose.

  Ada saw them examining a patient further down the ward, and suddenly they were all activity. Rose moved swiftly back to Ada. ‘You stay here. We are going to do an emergency amputation. Gas gangrene has set in and the leg needs to be removed as soon as possible.’

  Ada nodded, shocked at the speed they were needing to act. Rose went back down the ward with a tray of implements – including, to Ada’s horror, a saw – and the ord
erlies were there by the bed in no time at all, holding the man down.

  The patients on the ward seemed to know what was coming. Ada sensed that they were almost holding their breath. They all winced together as they heard the strangled cry of the man before he blacked out and then, after the procedure was over, the ward was silent apart from one poor soul retching into a bucket.

  Before Ada could make a move to see if she could help the patient who was vomiting, she was distracted by the appearance of another man at the bottom of Arnold’s bed. He had a mildly amused expression and a very kind face.

  ‘You must be the new nurse,’ he said, reaching over to shake her hand. ‘I’m Dr Mason. I believe you are already acquainted with my colleague, Dr Lampeter.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ada, ‘I am. Thank you,’ thinking how pleasant a manner the man had and how good of him to take the time to introduce himself.

  Dr Mason gave her a smile and a small bow before he proceeded down the ward to join Lampeter and see what he could do to help. From what she could see the procedure seemed to be more or less over and she was pleased to see Rose making her way back up the ward a little while later.

  ‘First days are very strange,’ said Rose. ‘I was a terrible mess on mine at the hospital in Scutari. Anyway, I think that you’re doing very well so far. If you’re done here you can tag along with me and we’ll see what else needs doing.’

  As the two nurses walked side by side down the ward the doctors passed by on their way up. Ada saw Mason smile across at them, but Lampeter never looked up, staring fiercely at the ground as he walked by. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle; she knew that their paths would cross again and again on the ward and she would need to find some way of managing her feelings of antipathy towards the man. Especially since, even on this her first day, she was starting to feel determined to make a really good go of this work at the hospital. She did not want an arrogant doctor like him to interfere with what could be the start of a new life for her.

  Ada followed Rose like a shadow for the rest of that day. In the late afternoon they checked on the poor man who had undergone the emergency amputation that morning. Even Ada could see that there was a deterioration in his condition. His face was mottled and red, his lips looked blue, his breathing was slow and laboured and his eyes were wide, staring at the ceiling as he lay flat on his back.