Down Jasper Lane (Amherst Island Trilogy)

*****

“You will be the twenty-second class to graduate from Kingston General Hospital Nurses’ Training School. This is both an opportunity and a privilege, and I hope you all will take your obligations seriously.”

Ellen instinctively straightened in her seat, as, with five other nursing students, she listened to the Nursing Superintendent, Miss Cothill, address them in the Watkins lecture hall at Kingston General Hospital.

“You will have many obligations here. Tomorrow your daily schedules will be given to you. As you probably know, they comprise of morning classes and afternoons of service and duty. You will have night shifts on the ward on a weekly basis and you will also do private service in patient’s homes, as need requires.” Miss Cothill paused again. She was a tall, spare woman with dark hair scraped back in a bun, but Ellen thought her eyes were kind.

They seemed to soften as she gazed at each nurse sitting in front of her. “Nursing is a strenuous and rewarding profession, ladies. You will constantly be required to work long, hard hours and give a hundred percent of yourself, a hundred percent of the time. There are no guarantees and no promises, except that if you do as I say, giving of yourself selflessly and with total commitment, the rewards will be great. There is no profession, in my opinion, comparable with that of the healer’s. Hone your abilities and use them well.”

She cleared her throat, and then began to recite the many rules required to be kept by nursing staff. Ellen knew that a generation ago, nurses had been seen, at best, as little more than domestic help, and at worst, as slatterns. She felt proud of the reputa

tion nurses had in this modern age and she hoped only to add to it in the next two years.

“Awaken at six,” Miss Cothill began crisply. “Classes begin at seven. Uniforms must be pressed and clean. Ankles, wrists, and necks must never be exposed or seen. Caps must be positioned firmly on one’s head. Hair must be knotted in a simple bun, no fancy styles allowed. Untidy appearance will result in immediate dismissal. A nurse must walk in a quiet, ladylike way, but always be brisk and efficient. When entering any corridor or hall, a nurse must stop and wait until a superior passes her, if one is walking behind her. When asked a question, a nurse must respond with the utmost courtesy. Impolite behavior will result in immediate dismissal. A nurse must always consider her patient first. She must never question a doctor’s judgment, or do anything in association with a patient without consulting that patient’s doctor. Failure to consult a physician in regard to a patient’s health or behavior will result in immediate dismissal. A nurse must be in her dormitory room, in bed with the lights extinguished, by ten o’clock unless she is on duty. Failure to meet this curfew will result in immediate dismissal. A nurse can only have male visitors on her afternoons off, and only for a period of one hour, only in the sitting room. Failure to comply with any of the aforementioned rules will result in immediate dismissal.”

Ellen’s face paled with each mention of ‘immediate dismissal’. She wouldn’t even make it through the first week—not even the first day!

“A little frightening, isn’t it?” The young nurse sitting next to Ellen whispered. Ellen looked over at the girl and smiled tremulously before quickly turning back to Miss Cothill.

“I’m Amity Carwell,” the same young nurse said, introducing herself to Ellen as they filed out of the lecture hall for lunch back in the separate dining room in the Nurses’ Home.

“Ellen Copley.”

“I do find this overwhelming,” Amity sighed. “If you want to know the truth, I don’t even want to be a nurse.”

“Why?” Ellen exclaimed, finding it hard to believe that anyone would go through such a rigorous program if she wasn’t really committed. Even as this thought occurred to her, another uncomfortable one followed on its heels, that she wasn’t sure how committed she was.

“Family,” Amity replied. “No one wants to marry me, and I don’t want to stay at home and turn into a drudge. I had to do something, and I’d rather it was something helpful and trained. I could’ve been a teacher, I suppose, but I can’t see myself droning on to a bunch of children. What about you?”

“What about me?” Ellen asked.

“Why are you here?”

Something about Amity’s frank face, her brown eyes bright and inquisitive, made Ellen reply honestly, “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Do you like nursing?”

“I think I do,” Ellen said cautiously. “I nursed my mam when I was younger, and I’ve been working for the island doctor for the last few years.”

“Island doctor? Where are you from?”

A glowing description of Amherst Island occupied the rest of their walk towards the dining room, and Ellen tried not to think about the seed of doubt so carelessly sown.

Why was she training to be a nurse? The rigors of life at Kingston General Hospital seemed far removed from her mother’s sickroom or Dr. Bandler’s country practice.

Ellen tried to imagine her future, serving in a hospital like this one, or perhaps, as some nurses had dreamily imagined, as a missionary in far-off Asia or Africa. She shivered at the thought, knowing instinctively she was not one for that kind of adventure. Besides, her prayers to God had never been more than a few words, and she wasn’t entirely sure He heard them anyway.

Yet if she wasn’t for adventure, what was she for? What did she want to do with her life? What dreams did she still nurture? Ellen didn’t have an answer. Well, she thought with weary pragmatism, she had two years before she had to make a decision.

It was silent that evening as the six junior nurses trooped up to their rooms, exhausted and a little discouraged. They had all been in classes since seven that morning, and the day had seemed twice as long as a normal one. Ellen was relieved to sit on her bed, plaiting her hair as the cool night air blew over her. Her roommate, a studious young woman named Harriet McIlvain, was already in her bed, her blankets drawn right up to her chin, her head averted. Ellen didn’t know whether she should talk to her or not; besides a terse hello, Harriet hadn’t had much to say to her so far.

A shadow fell over Ellen’s bed, obscuring the lamplight from the bedside table. Turning, Ellen saw Amity Carwell standing in the doorway looking thoroughly miserable and with a commiserating smile she indicated the edge of the bed.

“It was a rather long day, wasn’t it?”

“Endless,” Amity confessed, perching on the end of Ellen’s bed. “And I’m homesick,” she confessed in a whisper. “I didn’t think I would be. I thought I would be glad to leave. And I never expected our dormitory to look so nice—it’s grander than home by far. And yet...”

Ellen nodded sympathetically. The Nurses’ Home, with its cozy parlor, little library sponsored by the Kingston Nursing School Alumnae Association, and the comfortable rooms housing two nurses each, was lovely. She’d heard that the hospital had had such an elegant dormitory built to entice more middle class women into becoming nurses. It seemed to have worked.