Story
The summer light faded from Sandra Peckover’s cramped first-floor dormitory window. Drawing the curtains, she noticed the film of dust on the ledge. The initial zeal for a spotless room had waned, replaced by the mounting pressure of exams every eight weeks. So far, she’d navigated them successfully, a basic understanding of care plans forming, while surgery held no allure; her interests lay firmly in medicine.
Mrs. Papandraous remained a constant presence, diligently drilling clinical placement skills into the students from day one. Slowly, Sandra felt a professional persona emerging, but the impending leap from a single stripe to two, the transition to second year, loomed large. A sense of seniority had begun to settle as two new cohorts of student nurses had started after her, lending her a new-found confidence.
Returning to the school campus to consolidate the year’s learning and prepare for exams before the annual break was a welcome opportunity to reconnect with colleagues from other placements. Sandra had cultivated a close circle of friends, predominantly Irish, but one stood out alongside Eve, Claudia. Claudia’s strong Jamaican accent meant that without careful attention to her rapid, often fragmented speech, entire sentences could be missed. A larger-than-life personality, she physically filled any space she entered. Her warm hugs and booming laughter echoed through the hospital corridors, making her instantly endearing. Claudia was a couple of sets ahead of Sandra, who admired her confidence.
Claudia burst into the canteen, squeezing between Eve and Sandra, her tray laden with chips, beans, and coffee threatening to spill. ‘Hi honey, how you doing today?’ She asked, a smear of tomato sauce on her lower lip. ‘Not so bad, you know, just struggling with my IV calculations,’ Sandra replied quietly. Maths had always been a weak point, a vulnerability now exposed in this module. ‘Don’t worry, gal, just use ya calculator and you’ll be fine!’ Claudia declared confidently. ‘If ya don’t know the answer, put something down, never leave a blank spot, and if it’s multiple choice, go for C, that’s ya best bet,’ she advised, wolfing down her remaining chips.
Sandra wasn’t entirely convinced by this strategy but let it go. Eve, in stark contrast to Claudia, was a petite and often underestimated beauty with a mischievous outlook. She had already set her sights on working with children and babies, considering midwifery immediately after her training, a path Sandra felt she would excel in.
‘So, what are we going to do this weekend, girls?’ Claudia boomed. ‘Well, we could go into London on Saturday night,’ Eve suggested. ‘Did someone say London?’ a voice chirped from behind. It was Noleen and two others from their set. ‘That would be perfect,’ Mary added, joining them. ‘I didn’t want to say anything, but I’m engaged and we’re getting married early next year, so let’s go down to Soho and make a hen night out of it’, she announced calmly as she sat down.
‘Hold on a moment, engagement and marriage? Where did that come from?’ Eve exclaimed, mirroring the surprise on everyone’s faces. Mary was the kind of nurse who wore her crucifix under her uniform and attended mass regularly. There had never been even a hint of a boyfriend, let alone wedding plans.
They all pledged their support for Mary as they headed back to the clinical room, Claudia returning to the paediatric ward. In the clinical room, Mrs. Papandraous had set up an IV stand with various drains and tubes displayed on a table. ‘Sandra!’ she called without looking up. ‘Could you get me a blue and green venflon and some IV antibiotics from the cupboard?’ she continued, still focused on her task.
Sandra sighed inwardly as she walked towards the cupboard. Why was it always her? As she entered the area, a sudden drop in temperature took her breath away. Gathering the requested items, she stepped back out to find herself facing a group of about thirty unfamiliar faces. They sat squarely at old-fashioned school desks with plastic chairs, and all the students were Afro-Caribbean except for one Caucasian girl with long blonde hair in the back row.
‘Miss Peckover,’ a student in the front row named Princess began, her Barbadian accent pronounced, ‘Why do we need to know ‘bout disaster preparedness? We is nurses, ain’t we?’ The words flowed easily from Sandra as she tried to process her surroundings. ‘The last major hurricane to hit Barbados was in 1955, with winds of 120 mph. We could be due for one any time now, and as nurses, you need to know how to respond for your families and for the nation.’ Princess slumped back in her chair, arms crossed.
After the class, Princess approached Sandra with a smirk. ‘I see what you mean, Miss Peckover. Thanks,’ she said before hurrying off with her classmates. She seemed like a kind person, perhaps not the most academically gifted but eager to learn and likely to become a good nurse.
While Sandra was tidying the classroom, Leroy, the mental health tutor, poked his head around the door. ‘Are you ready for one of your British cuppas?’ he smiled. A tall, balding man with a dazzlingly white smile, he was beloved by his students. ‘I want to hear about your lecture at that big conference you gave at Vanderbilt University; man, I never get the chance to do such things,’ he murmured, his grin widening.
A cup of barely lukewarm, weak tea awaited Sandra in the overwhelmingly orange canteen. The seats and tables were orange, and the canteen staff wore orange uniforms with a hint of yellow in their hats. That was it. Sandra leaned in to hear Leroy over the rising lunchtime chatter. ‘Well, I couldn’t believe I’d been seconded to talk about disaster management in the Caribbean in the first place,’ Sandra began. ‘They wanted me to explain how nurses could assist with hurricanes and disasters in Southern States of America and were really interested in how we implement this module as standard. The university facilities were amazing – rotating whiteboards, classroom segmentation, and my lecture was even doodled by a professional scribe!’ Her excitement was evident.
Fancy that, Sandra thought, Southern States of America using my limited knowledge of the Caribbean to develop a regional nursing plan – amazing!
‘Wow,’ said Leroy, ‘we can’t even get a box of chalk here sometimes. You are so lucky.’ The two walked back towards the classrooms. Next for Sandra was a class of healthcare assistants learning anatomy and physiology, a subject she thoroughly enjoyed. As she re-entered the equipment cupboard, the temperature had dropped again, and she found herself looking at drip stands, expired IV bags, and outdated medications. What was happening to her? She couldn’t understand it. Was she daydreaming, or was it something else? Either way, she was determined to uncover the cause of these strange out-of-body experiences.
Tune in for more adventures of Nurse Peckover ‘Disconnection‘ Coming in the next ISSUE!
