Nurse In The Outback

‘That’s Dampland Hospital,’ said Barney. ‘It’s built near the airport, so they can ship off any really bad cases to Perth, if need be. I’ll take you straight to Sister Hetherington in theatres—she’s expecting you. She’ll probably take you to your digs.’

‘Thanks, Barney,’ said Kate, as they drove up towards the main entrance of the hospital.

It was a strange building for a hospital, certainly to the English-trained Kate’s eyes—used to the tall, imposing walls of St. Jude’s, which had been built in the last century. Australian architecture was entirely practical, to withstand extremes of climate, that much she knew.

The building was on three floors only, lack of available space not being a problem in the vast open reaches of the Gibson Desert. It was raised very slightly from the ground—a necessary step to discourage the various spiders and insects. Finally, the ward section of the hospital was surrounded by a veranda, whose purpose was not just to provide welcome shade from the fierce sun, but to enable patients to sit outside in the evenings, while convalescing.

Kate collected her suitcase from the back of the ute and, thanking Barney again, walked through the swing doors into the main reception area, which felt positively chilly compared with the temperature outside. Oh, the marvels of science! thought Kate, uttering a fervent thanks to whoever had invented air-conditioning. She made her way to the reception desk and asked the young nursing auxiliary to please let Sister Hetherington know that Staff Nurse Carpenter had arrived.

The girl picked up an internal phone and relayed the message. ‘Take a seat,’ she said to Kate. ‘Sister Hetherington’ll be right with you.’

Kate wandered slowly around the room, which was filled with huge exotic greenery. She stopped in front of a painting—a brilliant landscape in vibrant colours, which seemed perfectly to capture the raw excitement of the Australian bush. She gazed at it, so enraptured that she did not hear the sound of footsteps behind her.

‘Pro Hart,’ said an amused voice.

Kate spun round and found herself looking at an attractive, grinning man she’d never seen before with fair hair and a slightly dishevelled appearance.

‘I’m sorry?’ she stammered.

‘Pro Hart - it’s the name of the artist,’ he explained.

‘I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve never heard of him, or is it a her?’ asked Kate ruefully.

‘Then you can’t possibly be an Aussie!’ laughed the young man. He wore a white coat with a stethoscope just protruding from one pocket, which marked him out as a doctor, as opposed to one of the many other white coat wearers in a hospital. He held out his hand to her. ‘Hi, I’m Craig Anderson,’ he said. ‘The hardest working physician this side of the Hammersley Ranges! And to whom do I have the pleasure of talking?’

‘Nurse Carpenter, I presume?’ interrupted another voice before Kate had a chance to reply.

A young woman, not much older than Kate, stood before her. She was smiling politely, but her brown eyes glittered in a less than friendly fashion. She was wearing a simple white nursing frock, and not one hair was visible beneath a neat matching cap. A name-badge identified her as ‘Sister T. Hetherington.’

‘Please don’t let us keep you, Dr. Anderson,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get to know Nurse Carpenter properly,’ She laid some emphasis on the last word and Craig Anderson looked slightly disconcerted.

‘Sure, Sister. Look, I must be getting along.’ At that moment his bleep shrilled loudly, and the look of relief on his face was almost comic as he hurried away to answer it.

Kate grinned broadly at the trim Sister, but she met no answering smile. Instead, the long-lashed brown eyes met hers disaprovingly.

‘Nurse Carpenter,’ the Sister began, ‘I badly need another nurse in my theatres and, for that reason, I’m very glad to have you on board. But I feel I must point out that we have very busy lists and expect hard work from our nurses. I do hope you understand that. In Australian hospitals, we rarely have time on duty to stand around chatting up the doctors.’

Not the most auspicious of beginnings, thought Kate, though the smile didn’t leave her face. After all, she was going to have to work with Sister Hetherington, and work very closely too. It was important that they didn’t fall out on her very first day.

‘I understand perfectly Sister,’ she replied. ‘I’ve never been afraid of hard work. In fact, where I trained it was expected. That was at St. Jude’s in London,’ she added.

‘So I believe,’ said Sister Hetherington coolly. ‘Well I’m glad we understand each other, Nurse.’

‘And as for standing around, chatting up the doctors, Sister. I came here solely to work and to see the Australian bush, and that is just what I intend to do. Dr. Anderson came up and introduced himself to me.’ Kate smiled disarmingly at the Australian girl, who she guessed was probably only a couple of years older than herself.

‘Very well,’ the other replied crisply. ‘And now if you’d like to follow me, I can spare you ten minutes to show you around the theatre suites. After that I’ll get one of the auxiliaries to show you to your room.’ She began walking towards the lift situated in the centre of the reception area.

The silence as they rode up to the second floor which comprised the theatre suite was deafening, Kate decided. She felt that any attempts at light conversation would definitely not be encouraged.

The other girl kept her eyes firmly fixed on the numbers flashing above their heads until a loud ping, followed by the doors sliding open, heralded their arrival.

We’re here,’ she announced, somewhat unnecessarily.

Immediately Kate became aware of that unique rarified atmosphere which is peculiar to all operating theatres. It was a combination of bright lights and the sharp, clean smell of chlorhexidine which was used to clean down every available surface.

Never had the saying ‘all the world’s a stage’, been more apposite than here, with the players garbed in their emerald theatre greens—a uniform which guaranteed a certain anonymity. Each person was moving swiftly and purposefully towards his or her task, the result being one huge team, each member being vital to its smooth running.

Kate looked closely at the comparatively young woman who was responsible for the unity of this team. The working conditions would reflect her ability and personality to a large extent. Ultimately, the Sister was responsible for the maintenance of adequate staffing levels. She would match scrub nurses with surgeons who worked well together, wherever possible. She must ensure that there were always enough packs—sterilised sets of instruments for each different operation. A Theatre Sister was like the conductor of a large orchestra, and, while she appreciated the skills needed, Kate loved nothing better than the unity and the job satisfaction which she found when assisting a brilliant surgeon.

There were two operating theatres in all. The gynaecological theatres were completely separate and in another part of the hospital. Each theatre had its own anaesthetic room and scrub room attached. In the middle of both theatres was the recovery room, where patients were brought post-operatively until they came round from the anaesthetic drugs and gases.

In addition to these rooms there was a sluice, a vast storeroom where all the sterile packs were kept; two changing rooms; a rest room and a small office whose door was marked ‘Sister-in-Charge.’

Sister Hetherington led the way into her office with Kate following just behind. A man dressed in green cotton trousers and matching short-sleeved top was sitting in a chair at the desk, his long legs stretched out in front of him, talking excitedly into the phone.

He hadn’t noticed them at the door, and Kate was astonished to see a lively animated expression transforming the face of Grant Kershaw. Then she realised that another transformation had taken place and that the brown eyes of Sister Hetherington had softened, and her lips had parted in a welcoming smile.

He put the receiver down and looked up at her.

‘Dacron grafts, Tessa. I’ve just ordered a dozen. Wonderful invention—a break through in vascular surgery.’ He shook his head, as if in amazement.

‘Oh Grant!’ cried Theresa Hetherington in mock horror. ‘You musn’t try and do my job as well as your own!’ She laughed up at him coyly, then remembered Kate, who had remained politely at the door, fascinated by the scene before her. ‘I’d like you to meet our new theatre nurse. I’ve just had to practically drag her away from the clutches of young Dr. Anderson! Staff Nurse Carpenter, this is Dr. Kershaw—our Surgeon-in Charge.’

It was as though someone had pulled a shutter down in front of those grey eyes, thought Kate as he stared at her. All the passion and animation had been wiped clean from his face, which now looked blank and cold.

‘Miss Carpenter,’ he said. ‘You and I seem to be meeting with monotonous regularity.’

Tessa Hetherington was looking closely from one to the other.

‘Am I to assume that you two are already friends?’ Her voice sounded high and forced. It seemed to Kate that she was carrying a very large torch for the moody Dr. Kershaw.

‘Hardly friends, Sister,’ replied Kate evenly. ‘I’ve met Dr. Kershaw briefly on two occasions in Perth. Ours has been the most fleeting of acquaintanceships!’

‘You certainly don’t waste much time, Nurse!’ she said brightly, and turned to him conspiratorially. ‘As I said, I found Nurse Carpenter in deep conservation with Dr Anderson, and she’d only been in the building for five minutes!’

‘Really?’ The surgeon’s arch query carried a wealth of disapproval. ‘I must say I don’t envy your job one bit, Tessa. Trying to keep the nurses’ minds on their work and out of the doctors’ hair must be an uphill battle.’ He stood up suddenly and his tall angular frame seemed to fill the room.

Again, Kate found his arrogance and rudeness unpardonable, but she bit back a sharp comment. After all, it would hardly do for a new and very junior staff nurse to answer back the chief surgeon in front of Sister on her first day! It would probably infuriate him more than if she remained immune to his barbed remarks. With this in mind, she smiled innocently up at him.

As he made to leave, Theresa Hetherington stopped him with a hand on his arm. ‘Afternoon tea later, Grant?’ she asked.

‘Sure.’

The two women watched him go in silence. Then Tessa Hetherington looked Kate full in the eye.

‘Dr. Kershaw like me to scrub for him wherever possible. I’m afraid that you’ll be mainly working on fairly minor ops, with the houseman. After all, we don’t want you to be out of your depth, do we?’ she enquired sweetly. ‘And now, Nurse, if you’ve no more questions, I’ll get someone to show you to your room.’

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_c8a88e18-d122-51cb-afdd-f5429f782c6c)