The Nurse Novel

by Alice Brennan

  “When I started to help him move over to the clean side of the bed,” Miss Carruthers said through tense lips, “he asked me to—to kiss him! When I refused, indignantly, he said the nurse yesterday had sat on the bed and hugged and kissed him!” She shuddered.

  Janet stood swamped with shame. Why hadn’t it occurred to her the boy would tell—making it sound as if she’d been the aggressor! She felt the blood burning in her cheeks and knew they must be flaming red. Glancing at Miss Andrews, she saw the woman’s handsome face set tight with outrage.

  “So you don’t even deny it!” she barked. “I’m surprised at you, Miss Raleigh! I never felt that you were cut out for a nursing career, but I thought at least you had common decency. I didn’t think you were the sort of girl to indulge in liberties with a male patient. If I report this to the superintendent it could mean your immediate dismissal!”

  “Go ahead!” Janet choked. “I didn’t do it the way he made it sound! I was only trying to help him move over, and he… But you don’t want an explanation! You’re probably glad for a chance to…”

  She couldn’t hold back the tears. They flooded to her eyes, to her throat, choking off the angry words she wanted to fling at the head nurse. Helpless against the heavy sobbing that shook her, she turned and fled, passing the elevator to dash wildly down the stairs, along the basement corridor that led to the lower street door.

  As she passed the door to Pathology, she crashed headlong into someone just coming out, the jolt momentarily knocking the breath from her.

  Firm hands steadied her, and after a taut moment of clutching the lapels of a starched white jacket and pressing her burning face against a warm, hard chest, she caught her breath and managed to regain a measure of her control.

  “It can’t be that bad,” a low, vibrant voice said above her. She jerked her head up in new dismay and found herself looking into the dark compassionate eyes of Dr. Sterling.

  “Oh…” she whimpered, flinging herself away from him to complete her wild dash down the basement corridor, out the door into bright sunshine, across the street to the sanctuary of her own room in the nurses’ home.

  Of all people to bump into just then, she thought as she sobbed on the bed. The new doctor seemed destined to witness every moment of shame in her brief career.

  Chapter 6

  David stood watching the little redhead’s sobbing flight down the hall, his arms still pulsing with the warmth of holding her close.

  As she disappeared beyond the basement door, he found that Dr. Ross, the pathologist, was beside him.

  “Do you know that nurse’s name?” David asked.

  “No, but she certainly seems upset about something.”

  “I’ll bet that sourpuss on Second Annex bawled her out again.”

  “Andrews?” Dr. Ross cocked an eyebrow quizzically. He was a neat gray shadow of a man whose initial shyness with David had given way to enthusiasm as they discussed the findings in Arnold Crane’s tests.

  David told him now about Miss Andrews’ caustic remarks to the little nurse in Arnold Crane’s room the day before.

  “The bed was in Fowler position, and must have been the devil to make up. From the look on the girl’s face when Andrews asked why she hadn’t rolled it down flat, I presume she’d thought Fowler position was mandatory. It had been, of course, when he was draining after the appendectomy. There was no such necessity by the time the second laparotomy was done, but the girl may not have been informed. She probably hasn’t been in training long. This morning when Burns asked for Hoffman’s, she didn’t know what he meant, and Andrews took the opportunity to bawl her out again in front of doctors and patients. Burns felt bad about it afterwards—said he should have realized she was green and not given orders in abbreviated terminology. It’s a bad habit doctors fall into sometimes when they’re working with nurses who are used to them.”

  “I know.” Dr. Ross leaned against the door jamb, his mouth grown tight. “And I can just see Daisy Andrews making a thing of it, especially if she disliked the girl already. I don’t know who the little redhead is, but if she got off on the wrong foot with Andrews, I feel sorry for her.”

  “I do too, but I suppose there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  “Maybe there is. Let’s go talk to Mildred Burns. Not just for the sake of the redhead, but it’s time something was started that will put Daisy Andrews in her place. I’ve heard her compared to an army sergeant—but she’s more vicious than any top sergeant I ever heard lambast his company.”

  “Well,” David said thoughtfully, “nurses have to learn to follow orders meticulously. But they don’t have to be trained with a bullwhip.”

  “That’s my idea exactly, so let’s go talk to Mildred. If it was something Andrews said that sent the girl flying out of here in hysterics, there’re likely to be repercussions. Andrews will give her version of it—I’ve an idea the girl skipped out before she was off duty. Maybe we can lend a little authenticity to her side of the story. Besides, I’d like to see if Mildred’s aware of all that Andrews is up to.”

  “And I’d like to see Mildred,” David agreed as they started up the stairs. He’d been in Las Lomas a week and hadn’t yet looked up his old friend, mostly because it was awkward as long as he was living with Graham and Coralee. He’d meant to call her as soon as he moved to his own place, but this gave him an excuse to renew his acquaintance sooner.

  The door of the superintendent’s office was open, so they went into the anteroom where a couple of girls sat typing. Mildred’s private office was beyond, her door closed, but after speaking into the intercom, one of the typists told the men to go on in.

  Mildred glanced up pleasantly. Seated at her desk, she scarcely looked a day older than when he had last seen her. There was very little gray in her hair, and her serene, broad-templed face was unlined. She smiled at Dr. Ross, who preceded David.

  “Hello, Milt,” she said, breaking his name off abruptly as her glance went on to David, her eyes lighting with recognition.

  “Well, David Sterling!” she said softly, lifting her hands to his. “I heard you were here and wondered when I’d get to see you.”

  “I’m inviting you to dinner just as soon as I move to my own house. Some day this week.”

  “I accept!” Her face beamed with friendliness; then the expression softened. “I understand why you didn’t look me up sooner, David. You’re living at Graham’s now, aren’t you?”

  “So you two know each other!” Dr. Ross said shyly. “I was just about to introduce you!”

  Mildred laughed. “I could almost say I knew David in diapers—but I guess he was in kindergarten when his grandfather was our friend in need. And you were in high school, weren’t you, David, when he helped us with our move out west?”

  “I was in pre-med. We’ll have a lot of fun reminiscing when you come to dinner. But right now, Dr. Ross and I would like to talk to you about a little redheaded nurse on Second Annex. She just dashed to the nurses’ home in tears, and we think Miss Andrews may have been too hard on her. Of course it’s really none of our business, but we thought… ”

  “I’m glad you came.” Her face had lengthened and she spoke gravely. “You’re speaking of Janet Raleigh, aren’t you?”

  “If I heard her name, I don’t remember. But she’s cute looking, snub nose and freckles, and a nice figure…” He delineated her curves with his hands, and Mildred smiled.

  “That’s Janet. Anyway, she’s the only redhead on Second Annex at present, and I’m afraid I may have made a mistake giving her that assignment so soon. Susan Crenshaw called her the best student in her class, the most brilliant academically, at least. And the most poised and self-confident and dedicated. I suppose that’s why I chose her for Second Annex—that’s the toughest assignment the new student nurses have to face, and I thought it would be easier for her than for some of the other g
irls.”

  “Why should there have to be such a tough assignment for any of the girls?” Dr. Ross inquired mildly. “They’re here to be taught nursing, not to be whipped into slaves.”

  Mildred grinned up at him. “Oh, come now, Milt—you’ve never heard of Daisy whipping a girl!”

  “It seems to me,” David said, “that to a sensitive girl a tongue-lashing can hurt as much as a cat-o’nine-tails.”

  Mildred sobered. “I know—and it’s always upsetting when I feel that a girl who might have made a good nurse is goaded into quitting. However, they do have to learn to take orders, and to accept criticism.” She smiled at David. “Suppose you were performing a delicate operation, so intent on your work that you spoke sharply to your scrub nurse when she handed you the wrong instrument—and she was so sensitive she dissolved in tears. By the time Daisy Andrews is through toughening a girl’s skin, that could never happen.”

  “Perhaps not,” David said stiffly. “I’m not saying there shouldn’t be stern discipline, and strict adherence even to minor regulations; but what about this tendency of Miss Andrews’ to pick on a student if she happens to take a special dislike for purely personal reasons?”

  Mildred’s eyes clouded. “That’s too bad, of course. And I’m afraid it may be the case with Janet. They come from entirely different economic levels. Janet’s parents are so wealthy there’s no necessity for her to earn a living. She entered training from purely idealistic motives. Her interest was first aroused when her baby sister spent several months here with rheumatic fever and a prolonged aftermath. Janet watched the nurses care for her sister, and was entranced with the idea of a career devoted to alleviating suffering. In fact, I’m sure she’ll be a splendid nurse.”

  “If she can hurdle Andrews,” Dr. Ross said gently.

  “I think she can,” Mildred countered firmly. “A girl from a family such as hers, with a cultured background, wealth, social position, should have the necessary self-confidence to hold her own in any skirmish.”

  “You wouldn’t think so if you’d had her crash into your arms, crying so hard she couldn’t see where she was going,” David protested.

  “Oh, she’ll probably cry it out and make her peace with Daisy. As I started to say, their coming from such different backgrounds may be part of the trouble. Daisy came up the hard way. She and one sister were the only members of their family who made the grade. Her sister, as you know, Milt, married Kurt Miller, who owns a chain of local stores and is chairman of our Board of Directors. Daisy graduated from a small nursing school where, at the time, not even a high school diploma was required for entrance—let alone the two years of college credit we demand. Daisy studied hard, and has continued to study ever since graduation. She’s a competent, conscientious nurse, probably as close to being infallible in her work as a human being can be. She has no use for girls who enter training with a lot of romantic notions and little practical talent—she thinks the more quickly they’re weeded out, the better. And she may have figured Janet for such a girl because of her background.”

  “And she may be just enough of a snob,” Dr. Ross interrupted mildly, “to resent the wealth and prestige she’s been denied herself, to be taking it out on the girl.”

  Mildred sighed. “I hope you’re not right on that score. I’m glad you came to me on Janet’s behalf—I’ll have a talk with both of them as soon as an opportunity is presented. But don’t expect me to tell Daisy how she should run her ward. She’s extremely strict, and not always tactful, but there isn’t a more dedicated or capable nurse, and the students might as well learn to take her criticism. After all, they’re bound to make mistakes as they learn. We all do, don’t we?”

  She glanced up at David and he wondered if the thoughtfulness in her dark eyes signaled a special message to him as she went on, “Actually, it’s by having our mistakes pointed out, corrected, and evaluated, that we make progress in life. The more sharply our mistakes are brought home to us, the better we learn our lesson, developing character in the process.”

  She wasn’t speaking of Janet now, David knew as the blood pounded to his temples. “You’re referring to—Graham must have told you about the case where I—”

  “Oh no, David!” Her voice sharpened with obvious alarm as she saw that he was taking her remarks personally. “Graham hasn’t told me anything. I haven’t seen him for—not to speak to personally, that is, for ages. I was simply speaking from my own experience.”

  She broke off as a buzzer on her desk rang demandingly. Flicking a switch brought the secretary’s voice, sounding a little shaky now. “Miss Andrews is waiting to see you, Mrs. Burns. It’s urgent, she says, and she hasn’t time to wait long.”

  Mildred reversed the switch and said, “All right, Alice. Tell her to come right in.” She smiled wryly at David and the pathologist. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’d better let Daisy blow off steam before she explodes.”

  As the men filed out, Miss Andrews brushed past them without a glance.

  “I want a replacement for Janet Raleigh—stat!” They heard her say in tones of ill concealed fury. “I was short-handed already, and Miss Raleigh has gone off duty without permission three hours before her relief is due! If you ask me, that girl was never cut out to be a nurse. She won’t make the grade in a hundred years!”

  Chapter 7

  Janet sat up and blew her nose. “I’m just not meant to be a nurse,” she told her flushed, weepy-eyed reflection in the mirror. “I can’t do anything right!” She knew that was an exaggeration—but she felt like exaggerating. In fact, she felt like quitting! Why should she take all that guff from an old biddy like Andrews just to follow a quixotic desire to be a nurse!

  It had been pleasant and gratifying to work as a teenage volunteer and be welcomed with squeals of delight by the children out at the county hospital. The harried nurses had welcomed her too, showing appreciation for the countless tasks she could take off their hands, relieving them for more technical duties. And the old people, whom she’d pampered with little services the nurses had no time for, had called her an angel, their blind or bleary eyes lighting up at her arrival. She had thought then that being a nurse was the most glorious work in the world.

  It had been almost as fine working four hours a day as an uncapped probationer. No one expected too much of her. The senior nurses were indulgent, the patients appreciative. And the classes were unmitigated pleasure, especially the academic subjects such as biology, physiology, anatomy, pathology, nutrition.

  Maybe she should be studying to be a doctor, she thought wryly, for she could learn all that stuff so easily, receiving top grades with no special effort. But when it came to the practical and mechanical phase of doctoring, she reflected, she might find it just as confusing as the duties of a capped ward nurse.

  And just as humiliating, she added, her cheeks flaming all over again.

  Never in her life had anyone spoken to her contemptuously the way Miss Andrews did.

  I don’t have to take it, she decided as she got up to wash her face and comb her hair. She stripped off her uniform and donned a simple street dress; kicked off the flat-heeled white oxfords and stepped into high-heeled slippers that matched the blue of her dress. Then she started resolutely for the superintendent’s office.

  When she entered the outer office the secretary looked up from her typing and paused, her smile a little too bright as she said, “Oh, Miss Raleigh, Mrs. Burns is expecting you. Go right in.”

  So old Dizzy Andrews had been here already, she reflected as she opened the door of the inner office—or maybe was here now. She sighed with relief when she saw that Mrs. Burns was alone.

  “Hello, Janet,” she said, looking stern and sorry. “I’m glad you came in before I had to send for you. It’s a serious breach of regulations, you know, to leave the floor without permission before it’s time to go off duty.”

  “I’m leavin
g for good, Mrs. Burns. I’m giving up the idea of becoming a nurse. It just isn’t my field, I guess. I can’t do anything right.”

  “I suppose Miss Andrews gave you that idea?”

  “She certainly did—and she probably said the same thing to you!”

  “That’s true. And you propose to prove she’s right?”

  Janet felt herself flushing. “I just don’t propose to let her go on treating me like a—like a mental incompetent! The trouble is, when she treats me like that, and breathes her contempt down my neck all the time, I begin to act like the fool she takes me for! I can’t even do the things I know how to do! I suppose she’s been telling you all my faults!”

  “Her chief grievance was that you had deserted your post, and left her in the lurch when she was already short-handed. She had a right to be furious about that, Janet. The only other criticism she voiced in particular was over your tendency to be impudent—you don’t behave with the modesty becoming a student nurse. You have a lot to learn, you know.”

  “I’m willing to learn, but I won’t be a bootlicker! I won’t grovel! I won’t toady to an old—”

  “You’re not expected to grovel, Janet. Sit down and let’s talk this out.” She indicated a chair beside her desk, and Janet sat down stiffly, clenching tight fingers in her lap.

  “There’s one thing you must understand, Janet,” Mrs. Burns said, the kindness in her eyes tempering the stern set of her lips. “A certain amount of protocol is as necessary in hospital work as in—well, say, the army. As a graduate nurse you would be taking the doctors’ orders, following them automatically and implicitly. In training for that as a student, you take orders from nurses who have learned more than you have, and you treat them as your superiors professionally, whether you can feel they’re your superiors personally or not. You understand what I mean?”

  “Yes, I think so.” Janet moistened her lips, but they still felt dry. “You mean that even if Miss Andrews were a boor who ate with her knife, I should be obsequious because she knows more about nursing than I do.”