Avril Jordan has worked at practically every Dundee hospital over the past half-century. As she approaches retirement, she discusses her nursing career with The Courier. I’ve been considering it, and here’s the thing with nurses.

We are not handmaidens. And we are not angels. We’re not dogbodies, and we’re not here to pick up the pieces for doctors. We are skilled and professional.

Mind you, when I started 49-and-a-half years ago, I had all of the silliness that comes with being young. My first nursing experience was as a volunteer ‘Daffodil Girl’ at Liff Hospital.

When we were in our early teens, my friend and I had the opportunity to go there through our school, St John’s in Dundee. We turned up in our yellow pinnies, not knowing what we were doing. And it was a little daunting because the people were very mentally ill. But I remember thinking, “This is fine.” That was it for me.

‘Shave what?’

Back then, things were very different. Girls were steered towards specific vocations. You basically typed and then went into secretarial work or industries. That did not appeal to me.

Nursing piqued my attention, so my friend and I enrolled in pre-nursing classes at Dundee College of Commerce, located on Constitution Road.

It was amazing there, like an extension of school but preparing you for adulthood. We practiced fencing, cooking, and, of course, anatomy and physiology.

I went on to become an enrolled nurse, then a staff nurse after completing a conversion course, and finally a charge nurse after receiving my nursing degree.

My first NHS work was as an auxiliary nurse at Royal Victoria Hospital in Dundee, where I waited for my training to begin. It was in Ward 2, with the young chronically ill. Sister MacDougall, my supercharged nurse, or sister as we called her at the time, was excellent.

You need guidance at the start of your career. In that ward, a nurse requested me to shave someone. I assumed she meant for surgery, but she corrected me: ‘No, sweetheart, his face!’

Pink paper hats and uniform rebellions

Then I was transferred to Ward 1 at DRI, where I was assigned to a tough sister named Sister Young. You didn’t say no to her. It was all quite official back then, with everyone called as ‘nurse’.

As an auxiliary, you wore a pink paper hat, and as you advanced, you received a brown stripe. It was rather organised, similar to the army; many of the nurses had most likely served in the army.

I recall being hauled up because I didn’t know I needed to stand up when a nurse officer entered! You were hauled up for a variety of reasons, including the clothing code.

You could not wear jewellery unless it was your wedding band. And you had to wear tights with your dress, which I think is a little out of place in the summer.

I’m a touch old-fashioned in that I believe in following a dress code and setting clear boundaries. However, the modern uniform, which includes tunics and trousers, is far more practical.

How can you clamber around in a tiny skirt? You have to remember that back then, we didn’t have nearly as much equipment for relocating patients.

You did not have a hoist; you were the hoist! So you can see how I ended up with three hip surgeries and a dickie back! It’s an extremely physical job.

‘You have to really want it’

That’s fine when you’re young and supple. It does get more harder as you get older. If you have children, you will also need to balance that. You have the right to a life outside of work, but it takes up a significant portion of your time.

You must truly desire to do it. You must be resilient both physically and emotionally. Sometimes all you need is to cry. You try not to do it in front of the patients, but it’s difficult, especially when you become attached.

When I returned to RVH, I worked in the stroke rehabilitation unit. It might be catastrophic at times. Not only for the patients, but for their relatives. It’s no picnic, getting people back to their maximum capability.

Sometimes it is not possible. But we try. You take any gains you can get, whether it’s someone walking, talking, or even eating on their own again. That is big.

Throughout my career, I’ve worked in a variety of specialities at Dundee hospitals, including limb fitting, ENT, surgery, photobiology, dermatology, casualty, and trauma.

Trauma was interesting because you never know what will happen, so you have to be prepared for everything. But you must also defend yourself, because failing to do so will be detrimental to everyone.

‘You don’t mess’ with Dundonian patients

It would be easy to have rough edges, but it is critical to be kind and understand how patients feel, because they are at their most vulnerable, and you are providing a lot of intimate care. Patients taught me a lot. I’ve met quite a few characters. Dundonians are full of energy and enthusiasm, and you don’t mess with them.

There is nothing worse than having another nurse as a patient! But as an NHS nurse, you meet a wide range of people since everyone has the right to be cared for and it is free at the point of use.

‘We shouldn’t privatise the NHS’

I know the NHS has problems; it certainly does. Running such a large institution also requires a significant financial investment. But I never want the NHS to be privatised. I do not think we want to lose it.

Having said that, I believe nurses deserve more pay. It is encouraging that more males are entering the nursing profession, as this will presumably raise pay. We don’t do it for the money; we are government servants.

Still, I’m delighted neither of my children wanted to be nurses. I wouldn’t have stood in their way, but it’s not easy; I’ve missed numerous family Christmases.

‘Would I do it all over again?’

Now that I’m retired, I plan to make the most of it. I want to go, and my kid and I are discussing Japan. People ask me if I would chose nursing again now that I have done working.

I thought about it, and my response is no – because I’ve already done it. I’ve given it my life. If I could live another life, I would attempt something new.

The words were written by Rebecca Baird.

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