Our Country Nurse: Can East End Nurse Sarah find a new life caring for babies in the country?. Sarah Beeson
where’s the nurse’s belongings? What have you been doing, you old fool?’ scolded Flo.
‘Come quick, Nurse. Village Hall. The bride – she’s not well,’ puffed Clem.
I’d barely been there half an hour and was already summoned to my first medical emergency. Was this what life as a village health visitor was going to be like? I thought it would be dull compared with hospital life. How wrong I was and how glad I was to be given the wrong first impression of Totley.
Clem led me at a gallop across the street to the Village Hall. The groom and his mates had already opened a huge barrel of scrumpy and were freely pouring it into tankards from the makeshift bar. Young girls danced around their handbags in the small square of dance floor. The speakers pumped out KC and the Sunshine Band’s ‘Get Down Tonight’. It wasn’t even five o’clock but the tranquil scene of a quiet country wedding had been transformed into a rowdy gathering of half-cut young locals. At this stage in the proceedings the youthful wedding guests were still divided into male and female, while the older crowd looked on from the sidelines – safe from speculation and free to observe in a straight row of chairs against the walls of the hall. They sat either still, their knees together sipping sherry in between tuts and the sucking in of teeth, or attempted to lounge on the uncomfortable-looking red plastic chairs while watching the heady scene wistfully, wishing they could join in with the youngsters.
Flo was hot on our heels. When we reached the back of the hall Clem stopped abruptly at the side door.
‘We’ll take it from here, Clem,’ Flo instructed, stepping forward and relieving him of duty.
As soon as he was given a reprieve Clem scurried off back to his garden and Bessie his beloved pig. I wished I could go with him.
‘What is the medical emergency?’ I asked Flo under my breath.
‘I would have thought that was obvious. She’s having a baby.’
‘Who?’
‘The bride.’
‘Have you called the midwife?’
‘Yes, but she’s in Malling, it’ll take her at least half an hour to get here.’
Oh help, I thought. I’m not a midwife, I’m a health visitor and only just. Every baby I’ve delivered was during my obstetrics training in a hospital! I took a deep breath – I needed to take charge of the situation. This was nothing I couldn’t handle. Pull yourself together, Sarah, I scolded myself. How far on can the girl be? First babies take hours and she’s probably in first-stage labour or maybe even a false alarm brought on by the excitement of the wedding. Don’t let your nerves get the better of you.
‘Right, I’ll take it from here,’ I told Flo. ‘Well done for calling the midwife but can you call an ambulance too. We don’t want any surprises, do we?’
‘Just as you say, Nurse. Give me a whistle if you need anything. I’ve got the keys to the clinic. I can pop in and get whatever you want until the midwife or the ambulance get here.’
‘Some surgical rubber gloves and towels would be good for a start. Do you know what a foetal stethoscope is?’
‘I certainly do,’ Flo replied a little curtly.
‘Excellent, well one of those too if you would,’ I said with a broad smile. Flo was pacified.
‘Righto, Nurse,’ she replied, hurrying back to the clinic, glad to be of use and in the thick of it.
When I opened the door to the small cramped side room I did not find what I had been expecting; I’d imagined a slightly pink-faced bride pacing around with early labour pains. No, instead I found a frightened young woman with her dress half off, squatting between two red plastic chairs, using the seats as arm supports. An even younger bridesmaid still in her fresh buttercup gown looked pale-faced as she watched from behind the panting newlywed, whose previously neat bridal hair-do was now a tangled mess around her hot red face, her make-up smudged around her overly bright eyes.
‘Hello. I’m Sarah Hill, the new health visitor,’ I explained quickly and calmly, closing the door behind me.
‘Thank God, you’ve come, Nurse. Susie Smith, I mean Bunyard. Mrs Susan Bunyard,’ said the bride, panting.
‘The midwife is on her way, Mrs Bunyard. But if you could put up with me until she gets here, I think we’ll be able to manage between us.’ She smiled briefly and then closed her eyes in preparation for the next contraction. ‘When did you first start to experience labour pains?’ I asked.
Susan Bunyard tried to answer me but she couldn’t catch her breath. I turned my gaze towards the nervous-looking bridesmaid and smiled. The poor child couldn’t have been more than 13, and she looked terrified. ‘I’m Lisa. Susie’s sister,’ she squeaked.
‘Right, Lisa. Could you go and find me a jug of water, some glasses and ice if you can,’ I told her.
The girl nodded and ran out of the room, glad to be away. Flo popped her head round the door and gave me the requested equipment then tactfully retreated.
Now it was just us, I repeated my question to the expectant mother. ‘When did you start to experience labour pains, Mrs Bunyard?’
‘My waters broke before I put my dress on to go to church to get wed,’ she said, panting, followed by a howl as she experienced a deep long contraction. I held her hand and waited for the wave of pain to be over.
‘Do you mind if I take a look and see how the baby is doing?’ I asked.
‘Help yourself, Nurse,’ she said breathlessly.
I gathered up some cushions for her to rest on the floor to give her tired arms and legs a break. Her head flopped down as she tucked herself up into a ball. I pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and scooted round to examine her.
‘How many hours ago did your waters break?’
‘It’s only been three hours. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want any delay, any excuse to postpone it. His lot would love that! I didn’t want this baby born out of wedlock,’ she whimpered. I could hear her breath shuddering out of her as she waited for the next contraction to come, and she didn’t get to rest for long because a minute later she was gritting her teeth again.
‘You’re quite far on,’ I said gently.
‘I know, I know,’ wailed the poor girl.
Lisa returned with the jugs of water and ice, and then scuttled off again.
‘Do you think you could drink a little water?’ I asked. She nodded and I held the glass as she took shallow sips.
‘How many weeks along are you?’ I asked.
‘Not long enough. New Year’s Eve it was. I met Aly hop picking last autumn and we got along. I knew he’d taken a shine to me. Made me promise to come to the New Year’s Eve party they were having at the Brewery and, well, here we are.’
I smiled and counted in my head. ‘You’re 36 weeks?’ I estimated. She nodded.
I hope the ambulance gets a wriggle on, I thought. Early baby coming this fast, they’d definitely need to go to Maidstone Hospital to be checked out. Steady now, Sarah, I told myself. Don’t alarm her. All the possible scenarios of what could be happening were playing through my head and some of them were not good.
‘The baby’s almost here, isn’t it?’ she cried.
‘Not long now,’ I said softly as I held her hand.
‘Oh, I can feel another contraction coming, it’s a big one.’ She gripped my arms as she raised herself to squat again between the two chairs and I mirrored her, doing my best to keep her safe and supported.
‘Whatever happens, don’t let them take the baby away, please,’ she begged.
Then to my everlasting relief, the midwife appeared just in the