“I’m afraid it happens quite frequently, Nurse Gilbert. I can assure you, you will learn a great deal, and it is always good experience to spend time on Casualty.”

“They’ll eat her for breakfast,” muttered Sister Evangelina under her breath.

Deliberately ignoring the grumpy nun, Barbara Gilbert took a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders. It couldn’t be so bad, she told herself. Nurses like to help people, right? Cheerfully she smiled and rose from the table.

“Well, I’d best get on my bike if I’m to get a bright start, then. Wish me luck!”

 

Three days later, the young nurse knew she needed more than luck to survive the rest of the week. Casualty was not only frenetic and intense, it seemed to be staffed by nurses so fierce they made Nurse Crane look like a tabby cat.

“Gilbert,” ordered Matron. “The bandages are not stocked properly. I certainly hope you don’t think I’ve decided to arbitrarily create rules for you to flout them. Bandages must be stored precisely in this manner for a very good reason. Restack them and be back here in ten minutes.”

Barbara nodded, trying to hide the tears she wanted to shed. Half way through the week and she wanted to cry every day. The strict rules, demanding situations and sometimes unreasonable medical personnel did little for her self esteem. Closing the storage room door behind her, she let a few tears flow as she methodically stacked bandage upon bandage.

“Come on, Barbara,” she told herself. “You can do this. It’s really not so much different from home. All those children running about. You must simply keep your head clear and don’t let anyone rattle you. You can do this. Besides, after this, you’ll never be afraid of Nurse Crane again!”

The bandages done, she slipped back down to the admittance desk. A crowd of people filled the room, and she could hear matron shout,

“Form a queue! I cannot help you if you do not manage yourselves properly!” Catching sight of Barbara, Matron handed her a clipboard. “You. Take names, reason for being here. And clear out anyone who should not be here in the first place!”

Nervously, Barbara marched over to the group filling the room. Her attention focussed, she noticed that the large group of men that filled the room were wearing rugby uniforms. Several were covered in mud, and all were shouting loudly.

“They’re just large boys, Barbara,” she assured herself. Remembering the tip her mother told her when handling boys, she searched the room for the leader of the group. “Excuse me,” she interrupted as politely as she could, “I’m hoping you can help me.”

The rugby player turned to her and she was alarmed by his size. Well over six feet, and clearly more than fifteen stone, he towered over her. “Me friend’s hurt, Nurse. He needs to see a doctor, fast-like.”

“Yes. That’s what I’m here for,” she told him. Pretend you know what you’re doing Barbara, her inner voice whispered. “If you could help me to get the room under control, then I can help your friend.” She smiled, hoping the expression made it to her eyes.

Understanding crossed the big man’s face. “Right.” He turned to his mates and bellowed, “Bob, Mack, you stay. Everyone else, out!”

Within in moments, the room was cleared. Barbara turned to the Rugby leader and said, “Well done! You must be the captain!”

The big man blushed. “Yes, Nurse. You need a firm ‘and wif blokes like these! What can we do to help me friend Bob, here. It looks like he may’ve broken ‘is leg.”

Peering closely, Barbara confirmed his suspicion. “Don’t you worry, Bob. We’ll have you in to see the doctor quick as a wink.”

She glanced up quickly and shyly met the eye of the captain. “Thank you very much for your help-”

“Albert, Albert Smalls. We’ll just stay here wif Bob, if you don’t mind.”

Barbara nodded. “Of course. He’s lucky to have friends like you to help.”

 

For the rest of her shift, Barbara kept the interaction with the rugby player in her mind. If she could handle a large group of rugby players in line, then surely the rest of the week wouldn’t be so bad? She simply had to find the original solution to any problem Matron presented.

Unfortunately, originality did not impress the medical staff, and for the rest of the day, Barbara shuttled patients to and fro, collected samples and put on a brave face as her self-esteem dwindled. Nearing the end of her shift, matron assigned her to the desk to file the charts that had overflowed all day.

“I’ll be back in quarter of an hour, Mr. Swift requires my advice on a matter of surgical organization. If any unusual situations arise, do nothing. Wait for more trained personnel to arrive.”

Watching the gruff old nurse walk away, Barbara sighed heavily. “I’m not a child. I am a trained nurse. It would be nice to be treated like an adult sometimes.”

Files sorted themselves quickly, and soon she had little to do. The madness of the early afternoon had dwindled down and the only people waiting to see a doctor were a man with a sprained wrist and a lady with a rather shallow cut to her chin. “I suppose it bled rather a lot,” Barbara muttered.

Her attention was captured by a drop of water from above. When it was followed by another, and then another, Barabara began to search for its source. Walking around the room, she peered at the ceiling. A memory of a burst pipe in her father’s vicarage popped in her mind, and she suddenly realized what was about to happen.

Trying to keep calm, she called, “Excuse me, please follow me. Quickly.”

The two remaining patients looked at each other, shrugged and made to follow. Guiding them up the stairs to the desk beyond the waiting area, she reached for the telephone.

“Excuse me, Nurse,” cried Matron, “just what do you think you’re doing?”

“The number for the janitor’s office, please?” she asked as calmly as she could.

“Put that phone down right this minute. You’ll be reprimanded for this!”
“The caretaker’s office? It’s an emergency!”
“What emergency?”

Suddenly, the ceiling in the waiting room cracked open and water gushed down.

Stunned, the staff stared at the gallons of water filling the room.

“The number, please?” Barbara demanded.

Finally understanding, Matron called out the number and the connection was made.

Five interminable minute later, the water was shut down. The medical staff turned their attention to the patients, and tried to restore some order to the care.

 

Barbara stood at the top of the stairs looking down at the caretaker. The waiting area was flooded, nearly two feet deep in water.

“This’ll take forever to clean up,” poor Mr. Unger said.

Thinking for a moment, Barbara said, “Mr. Unger, get every bucket and pail you have down here. We’re going to empty this place out quick as a wink!”

The caretaker was doubtful. “I suppose I’ll need’em anyway.” He lumbered down the hall to the storage cupboard.

This is my chance, Barbara thought. Time to put my plan into action.
“Albert?” she called. “Albert Smalls?” The curtain at one bed in the far corner opened, and out came the rugby captain.

“Yes, Nurse?”

Barbara shook her head confidently. “Mr. Smalls, we need your help. Are your rugby friends still outside?”

“Should be. I told them to wait so we could carry Bob to the pub.”

“Yes. Well, before you go to your celebration, could I perhaps ask you to give me another hand? We seem to have a bit of a flood in our waiting area. I was hoping you and your teammates could form a sort of Bucket Brigade and help return our waiting room to its normal above-water condition.”

Her expectant face, plus her cheerful confidence shone through.

“”Course, Nurse. We can have this place back in shape quick as a wink.” The large man waded through to the door and called to his team. With nearly a dozen buckets, and nearly as many rugby players, the room was back to it’s antediluvian state.

“Well done, Mr. Smalls,” Charlotte applauded. “We are ever so grateful. Poor Mr. Unger would have been here all night trying to put this place to rights.”

“No problem, Nurse. “ ‘appy to help.” The large man grew shy again. “I was wondering, maybe you’d like to join us, you know celebrate? We won our game, Bob’s got his cast, you’ve got a dry waiting area. “How ‘bout it?”

Barbara considered, her mouth pursing to the side. “Oh, alright!” she answered. Leaning in conspiratorially, she continued, “As long as there’s no Advocat. I may have shown Matron what’s for, but I better not get ahead of myself!”