Maria
Confessions of a School Nurse is part of the bestselling ‘Confessions’ series.
The stories described in this book are based on my experiences working as a school nurse in boarding schools over the past ten years. To protect confidentiality, some parts are fictionalised and all places and names are changed, but nonetheless they remain an honest reflection of the variety and crazy goings-on witnessed during a decade’s worth of school nursing – surprising as that might come to seem!
Marcus made sure no one was sitting near the door before closing it.
‘It’s really personal,’ he whispered to me over his shoulder.
‘It has to be a guy,’ he’d insisted when he arrived at the bustling nurses’ office. Most requests of this nature are girls asking to see a female nurse; though this was only my first week in the role, Marcus was the first student to ask to see a man, so my mind went into overdrive imagining the ways in which I could impart my knowledge in a reassuring, helpful manner to a young man in obvious need.
As Marcus turned from the door to face me, his hands delved into the front of his pants. He wasn’t in uniform; he wore loose track pants instead. I got the feeling than an inspection of that area was on the horizon. He refused a seat, so I asked him what the problem was.
‘You won’t tell anyone?’ he answered.
‘Of course I won’t tell anyone, just explain what’s wrong.’
‘They’re sore. My nuts are sore. And the left one seems bigger.’
Ah!
I could either take a look at Marcus now, or wait for him to be seen at the local doctor’s office. I chose the latter. There was no need for the poor lad to be exposing himself more than necessary. It’s not that Dr Fritz wouldn’t have trusted my judgment, but there’s more to feeling someone’s nuts than the average guy thinks. Is there a lump? Does it move freely? Is it attached to the testicle? Is the spermatic cord twisted? It would be up to Dr Fritz to decide what to do – whether it would require an urgent scan today or was something that could wait – so he would need to examine the lad properly. And besides, this environment wasn’t ideal for an intimate examination; the south wall of my office was made of glass, a window that looked out upon the mountains and a large terrace … a window with no curtain.
But Marcus was too quick for me.
‘You have to see them,’ he declared, whipping his pants down. Looking up, he gave a short scream.
No students were on the terrace, but Mrs Driscoll, the headmaster’s wife, was there with what looked like a prospective family … admiring the view.
Despite the incident, the prospective girl did enroll. Rumour has it she insisted.
Now don’t worry, I’ll get back to Marcus’s nuts in a minute, but before I do, let me tell you how I came to be here on this snowy mountain.
Why did I become a school nurse?
At the age of 32, I was a skilled professional with more than ten years’ experience working in England and New Zealand. I was a highly trained emergency specialist, who had worked in some of the biggest hospitals and busiest departments in the world, and the money wasn’t too bad. Why would I leave all of that? At that time, school nursing didn’t even seem like real nursing to me.
But, I needed a healthier lifestyle. Thirty pounds an hour sounds great at first, but the irregular night shifts – one on, one off, two on then one off – it ruins you. That’s what temp or agency nursing is about in London; you take the work when you can, even if that means spending your weekends with a bunch of drunks, dealing with abuse and violence, as well as the two-hour commute to and from the hospital. I’d chosen that life, but it’s not doable long term, and besides, there was a much bigger factor at play. My partner and I were expecting our first child, and I wanted a safe, healthy environment in which to raise my family.
My choice seemed simple, go back to my homeland, New Zealand, and get my old job back, or find work somewhere in Europe that had regular hours, no drunks, no night shifts, no underground and clean air. I didn’t feel that going back to New Zealand to work in a regular ward or a small emergency department was right for me, especially as my partner had never even been to my hometown, and we both wanted to stay close to her family for our first child.
So when I saw an advert for a nurse to work at a boarding school in the Alps, I thought all my wishes had come true. It not only seemed to fit all my requirements, they also even offered me
