Nurse Jess (4 page)

“
I can see that now,
”
nodded Jessa feelingly,
“
and I can see too, why forty babies need a non-stop staff of twenty
-
three.
”

It was dinner break before she realized it. Margaret came out of her corner of the ward as she did, her cheeks flushed like pink carnations. Knowing her own ability to flush even without a hot roo
m
Jess had no doubt that she herself must look like a boiled beetroot. But oh,
oh,
it had been fun.

They ate at the window again. The dew was gone, the spider webs, blown away in a wind that had sprung up. Jessa chewed beef and potatoes and greens and never even thought about the cold chicken and iced avocado and buttered yams that Mother, desperate to keep her there on the island, would have ordered Benjamin to serve at noon Tinder the bauhinia tree.

Back again up the stairs and Jessa and Margaret close together now, being shown how to feed by drops.

From there into a small cubicle where three extra tiny ones were being attended continually and fed through tubes.

During the afternoon Sister Valerie called Jessa to watch a special case, a boy with paralysis of the lungs affecting his breathing.

“
Professor Gink made an artificial opening to his throat which allowed him to breathe, but which mucus could easily block. You must keep constant watch, ready in an instant to clear the opening. Will you do that, please?
”

Jessa nodded,
“
Yes, Sister Valerie,
”
realizing she had almost answered,
“
Yes, Professor Gink.
”

She looked down on the little boy and decided to call him the Ace. He had sharp eyes and quick hands, and she was sure that one day he would break the sound barrier, though of course when he grew up that probably would be about as involved as catching a bus.

She thought of that Gink baby, the youngest of Daddy
-
long-legs
’
s large quiver-full. She found she remembered him quite clearly, even though most prems, she had discovered, were pathetically alike in the sweet immaturity. She recalled with a stab of love in her heart his small, rather lost face. Rather like an absent-minded professor, she smiled
—
then realized that she had committed a libel, or was it a slander?—in naming the obscure Gink prem, son of that obscure Daddy-long-legs father, after
the
Professor Gink.

Oh, well, Junior could be the perfesser then, she grinned.

Matron Martha came in soon afterwards. It was remarkable how she seemed to
“
arrive
”
by neither
“
opening
”
nor
“
entering,
”
just as she had lectured. It was really an achievement for that large important bosom and straight ramrod back. Jessa was very impressed.

She was more impressed still when Matron Martha took up a baby and cuddled him to her. Yes, Margaret had been right, she saw, there was only comfort there.

The comfort was strictly for her prems, though. She turned and looked coldly on Jessamine.

“
Couldn
’
t you see this baby needed mothering, Nurse
Jess? Nurses who care for premature babies must understand that such children are fully-dependent creatures. Their wits must be sharpened to all that a baby might need. They cannot ask. This child has an emotional side as well as a physical. Remember that in the future, and you can let Nurse watch the special case now, it
’
s time for your tea.
”

“
That late?
”

Matron Martha was grudgingly pleased at this unmistakable evidence of Jessa
’
s absorption in her work. In her usual
“
tinder with you
”
one moment,
“
rescued
”
the next, she replied,
“
Yes, time goes, doesn
’
t it? Go and have your break, then come back and feed babies Brent, Carter and Jones, and after those I believe your day will be done.

“
And don
’
t forget, Nurse Jess, in the second hall tonight, Professor Gink.
”

Professor Gink... Uniform of pink... Jessa found herself walking to the absurd time of it, then telling herself not to be silly, that it was evening, not a.m., that she should not permit rhyming at this hour. She drank two cups of tea and ate three buns.

Brent, Carter and Jones were all bottle types, and presented no feeding difficulties. She stopped right on time and went down with Margaret for tea.

“
Do we change for the lecture?
”

Margaret said,
“
I asked Matron Martha that and she said only if we wanted to. I
’
m not going to. Once I get out of this uniform it will be to get into bed.
”

Jessa nodded feelingly.
“
I
’
m done, too. I expect we
’
re both slack. Three weeks away from a ward is disastrous to the energy.
”

“
Especially three weeks
’
lotus-eating,
”
suggested Margaret slyly.

“
No, not lotus, only pawpaw and pineapple and buttered yams. However, this stew isn
’
t bad, is it?
”
Jessa ate heartily, as though two cups of tea and three buns were many hours away instead of only two.

The lecture was at seven. Even those who presumably might have been going out for the evening made it clear that this was one thing they would not miss.

Margaret and Jessa followed the little crowd of sisters and nurses to the second hall. Because they were new and
did not want to intrude they chose seats at the back.

Matron Martha was there already, and a pretty, youngish woman whom Margaret whispered was Doctor Elizabeth.
“
I met her when you were at tea; she came up to see Baby Birdwell, he wouldn
’
t suck.
”

Professor Gink had not arrived. Jessa shut her eyes and tried to imagine what the professor would look like. Slim? Or matured? Made-up or left shiny? Hat on or beautifully salon-ed hair? Flat heels or very high and French? It was no use, she simply could not visualize the woman.

All she kept picturing was
her
Gink, Daddy-long-legs Gink—and, of course, the youngest of his large quiver-full, the Perfesser as she had named him, the little boy with the small lost face.

“
Up,
”
whispered Margaret urgently, and Jessa obeyed mechanically. How often had she
“
upped
”
at lectures at G.S.!

And then she was staring. She was staring so hard that Margaret had to nudge her down again.

“
It
’
s—it
’
s a man,
”
she said.

Margaret said,
“
Ssh,
”
then nodded.
“
I rather expected it,
”
she whispered under cover of picking up something from the floor.
“
Didn
’
t you?
”

“
No, no, I didn
’
t. I though this hospital was female to the core.
”

“
Perhaps he
is
the core,
”
decided Margaret shrewdly.
“
By the importance surrounding him I could quite believe that.
”

—Yes, but he hadn
’
t been so important doubled up peeking through a glass panel... losing his balance and sprawling over the floor... dropping his owl spectacles and groping for them... peering at her through touselled hair, thought Jessa.

And what importance had
she
allotted him? A friendly pat on the arm that had sent him toppling over, a query as to which baby was his, advice—oh, my goodness!
—
advice to attend some clinic.

He, the great Professor Gink!

CHAPTER I
V

“
HEALTHY babies are happy babies,
”
the Professor was reciting.
“
Actually they require little from us, but what they do require they
must
have, or trouble begins.
”

—Trouble, groaned Jessa inwardly, and tried to shrink further into her seat.

“
While lecturing in London,
”
said the Professor,
“
I
—”

Margaret began taking notes. Jessa, glancing round, saw that everybody was taking notes. She put down her head and pretended she was taking notes so as not to appear conspicuous. Now and then she stole a glance at Professor Gink.

“
As I said in the United States of America,
”
the Professor was continuing,
“
with these babies we must count everything in miniature; food, time, age, weight, length, strength.
”

Strength, scribbled Margaret. Jessa thought feebly to herself that she had never felt so weak.

The Professor was not a polished speaker. He stammered, he fumbled, he fidgeted, he ran his fingers through his rough shaggy hair so that it stood up like prickles, he dropped his notes and in retrieving them he dropped his glasses. There was something odd about those glasses. Jessa could see it even from here. There was a piece of cotton hanging from one wing as though the wing had been clumsily mended. If it had been mended it must have been broken.

Broken where and when? Jessa thought
...
And by whom...?

Professor Gink was speaking of the emotional side.
“
Parents
”
—was he looking meaningly in her direction and reminding her that she once had made a parent of
him?
—
“
should be encouraged to visit their child a short while of every day, but to supplement this nurses should learn to act as temporary mothers, to cuddle and play and speak with the babies as they pass their cribs.

“
I myself,
”
continued the Professor,
“
have been visiting regularly one of our own Belinda
’
s small inmates, a foundling boy, as I expect you all know by now.

“
Fortunately, since the first forty-eight hours in any infant
’
s life are the crucial hours, a premature foundling is seldom encountered. It would be a sad prospect indeed if this was not rare.
”

The Professor mislaid his notes a second time, and Doctor Elizabeth rescued them for him from her lap.

“
I
’
m afraid I
’
m very clumsy,
”
he apologized.
“
Yesterday I broke the wing of my spectacles
... though I do believe that was not entirely my fault
”
—were his eyes roving again?—
“
I was bumped.
”

Matron Martha said,
“
Tch, tch.
”

The lecture went on. It was not so much a lecture as a confidential talk. Despite the occasional stutter, the showering papers, the retrieving of them and the consequent touselled hair and crooked spectacles, the scholar drove home his points. Margaret scribbled two pages full; all the audience, save Jessa, did the same.

He sat down at last and ran his fingers through the shaggy hair, probably in the vain hope of tidying it. It made it stand up more like prickles than before.

“
May we ask questions?
”
Matron Martha enquired.

He assured them he was only waiting, and two sisters rose immediately and asked them. Doctor Elizabeth had something to query... then Margaret got up.

It was a good sensible topic, and Jessamine would have swelled with pride for her friend and for Great Southern
—
if only she hadn
’
t been sitting right beside Meg. She sank down, making herself as small, as insignificant and as unobtrusive as she could.

Matron Martha obviously was pleased with Margaret. Hers was the final choosing of the trainees, so it was gratifying to have her selection vindicated like this.

She glanced hopefully towards Jessa, but Jessa only sat smaller still.

“
That was a topical question,
”
approved Professor Gink
when Margaret had finished.
“
My viewpoint, Nurse?
”

He looked enquiring.

“
Nurse Margaret.
”

“
—Nurse Margaret, would be this...
”

At last all questions were over. Doctor Elizabeth thanked the Professor. Matron Martha led the party on the small dais down the hall to her private sitting-room to take tea. The rest of the hall rose.

To her horror Jessa saw that she was nearest to the aisle and that in a few moments Professor Gink would be passing her by. She would have slipped behind Margaret only that it might have attracted attention, and besides, there wasn
’
t time, he was almost here.

Matron Martha made the procession an informal one.

“
—As you see, Professor, we still have Sister Valerie in our midst.

“
—Do you remember, Professor, when Nurse Anthea took over that emergency with you with the Carlyon baby? Well, she finishes here next month.

“
—Oh, well, we lose one, but we gain another. Two others, indeed. These two young women graduated from the Great Southern Hospital. You have just encountered Nurse Margaret. This is Nurse Jess.
”

“
Nurse Jess,
”
repeated Professor Gink.

Whether he was looking at her or not, Jessa did not know.

All
she
was looking at was where her eye levelled, and that was his third top button—at least buttonhole. The button was missing, she saw. She noted that he wore a bow tie, but that instead of reposing neatly east and west it perched crookedly north and south. Poor man, she thought spontaneously, he needs someone always to check him up, give him a brush and a dust.

She heard the steps pass her by and then the rest of the hall begin to disperse.

“
Cocoa and bed,
”
said Margaret. Her eyes were shining.

When they had got their cups and taken them to the seat by the window—you could not see the grass or the shrubs now, only a dark sky garlanded with stars—she sighed,
“
Oh, isn
’
t he marvellous, Jess!
”

“
Who?
”

Margaret took a gulp of the cocoa and sighed again.
“
Professor Gink.
”

Jessa tried to change the subject.
“
Your topic tonight was Very apt, Margaret. I wish I could think of things like that.
”

“
A man like Professor Gink makes you
want
to ask intelligent things. By the way
”
—Meg
’
s eyes were now questioningly on Jessa—
“
did you find any likeness in him to your waylaying parent? The one with the same name, Jessa?
”
Jessa said feelingly,
“
A great deal of likeness,
”
and tried to change the subject again by suggesting bed.

But Margaret hadn
’
t finished either the subject or her supper.

“
Professor Gink,
”
she said slowly, probingly,
“
told us that
he
had been doing some ward visiting
—”

She paused, then,
“
Jessa, he couldn
’
t have been—he
wouldn
’
t have been
—”

“
Yes, he was,
”
said Jess forlornly. She added unhappily in a miserable rush,
“
And I clapped him on the arm and knocked him over and that made his glasses break. I—I even did worse than that.
”

“
Worse?
”
By the scandalized note in her voice Margaret plainly doubted that possibility.

“
I advised him to attend a clinic,
”
confessed Jessa wretchedly.

“
A clinic! Professor Gink! Whatever for?
”

Jessa took up her cup to return it to the servery.

“
He was
Mr.
Gink to me, remember, and when he told me he
’
d had lots and lots of children, all premmie, I—I thought they were his.
”

“
Oh, you didn
’
t, you couldn
’
t!
”

Jessa said desolately,
“
I did, I could.
”
She paused.
“
And that
’
s why I told him he ought to have advice.
”

They climbed the stairs together and by mutual consent for a second time they dropped the subject of the Professor.

“
First day over,
”
sighed Margaret.
“
I can remember my first day at Great Southern. Goodnight, Jessamine, sleep tight.
”

And that
’
s what she
would
sleep, thought Jessa ruefully, tight as a ball and anticipating the worst, lying stiff and tense.

But the minute she stretched out on the bed weariness overtook her. She was asleep in five minutes and did not wake till the six-thirty bell.

Margaret chose blue that day, Jessa yellow. They took their breakfast to the table they now considered theirs. When they went upstairs it was to find there had been a
delay in the preparing of the bottles.
“
Lend a hand,
”
said Sister Helen briskly, and they began measuring mixtures, labelling them and storing them in the sterilized containers. This time Jessa knew it was no use looking for a Gink.

Sister Helen was an affable soul, so during the mixing Jessa asked her how the foundling baby would be labelled.

“
He
’
s not in this ward, Nurse Jess, he
’
s in Six, and so far he
’
s simply been marked Master X.
”

“
I
call him the Perfesser.
”

Sister Helen smiled.
“
Apt, too, he has a faraway expression, but for that reason he also could be a poet—or even an absentminded plumber.

“
That
’
s the lot, I think, go across to Nurse Anthea, she has some pumping for you to do.
”

A breathing tube was being cleared for a girl baby.
“
Temporary paralysis of the vocal cords,
”
explained Nurse Anthea busily.
“
She
’
s too little for a lung, so we pump the oxygen by hand.
”

Jessa was shown how and told that she would be relieved in forty minutes. In that time Margaret took over, and Jessa went and gave a few oil and lanolin baths.

She got the Bouncer again and he cried once more over the mouth and ears and nose cleansing.

“
Bounce him back,
”
advised a passing nurse.
“
He
’
s nothing but a big bully.
”

After morning break she found herself in one of the special small cubicles.
“
It
’
s time you met Eric,
”
said the sister-in-charge.
“
We call him that because he is fed only little by little. Intravenously. Come and see how it
’
s done.
”
By the side of Eric was an isolet with a boy who had weighed only two and half pounds at birth.
“
This is Russell to us, although I believe he is to be called Brian.
”