It occurs when she goes off duty; that is to say, it lies between 8.45,
when she finishes her supper, and 10 o'clock, when she finishes
undressing.
That is why one Sister said to me, "If I hadn't taken up nursing I
should have gone in for culture."
I don't laugh at that.... To have an intimate life one must have a
little time.
Who am I that I can step in from outside to criticize? The hospital is
not my life. I am expectant....
But for them here and now is the business of life.
As the weeks go by I recognize the difficulty of keeping the life of the
Sisters and the V.A.D.'s out of the circle of my thoughts. Their
vigorous and symmetrical vision of the ward attacks me; their attitude
towards the patients, which began by offending me, ends by overtaking
me.
On the whole the Sisters loathe relations. They look into the ward and
see the mothers and sisters and wives camped round the beds, and go back
into the bunk feeling that the ward doesn't belong to them.
The eldest Sister said to me yesterday: "Shut the door, nurse; there's
Captain Fellows's father. I don't want him fussing round."
On that we discussed relations, and it seemed to me that it was
inevitable that a Sister should be the only buffer between them and
their pressing anxieties.
"No, a relation is the last straw.... You don't understand!" she said.