Across the Mersey - Annie Groves [109]
He was only semiconscious when she gave him his morphine injection, his flesh burning hot to the touch and his temperature up over 103.
Another bottle round, the last one before lights out. Sister didn’t look up from her dimly lit desk where she was writing up reports as Grace went past on her way to the sluice room, to do the necessary urine tests. By the time she came out again all the patients were asleep and several were snoring.
She had to take Harry’s temperature again. When she went in he was rambling feverishly and still only semiconscious. His temperature was now nearly 104.
As though somehow he had sensed her presence suddenly, he opened his eyes and cried out quite clearly, in a boy’s voice, ‘Mam, Mam. Please make the pain go away. I can’t bear it, Mam, it hurts so much,’ before lapsing back into unconsciousness.
Tears stung Grace’s eyes. Hurriedly she wiped them away and went in search of Staff Nurse Reid, who was down at the end of the ward.
‘It’s Harry, Staff,’ said Grace. ‘His temperature’s up at 104.’ She hesitated and then added, ‘He thought I was his mother.’
Staff Nurse Reid, who had been writing up a chart whilst she listened, suddenly stopped writing and looked at her.
‘What did he say?’ she asked.
‘He said, “Mam, Mam. Please make the pain go away.”’
Staff had the chart replaced and was on her way towards Sister.
‘Campion, go down to the desk and ask one of the porters to send up the chaplain. Tell them we need him quickly.’ When Grace’s eyes rounded, she explained quietly, ‘Most patients, but especially the men, call out for their mothers when they are near the end. Quickly now, but remember, no running.’
The porter was sympathetic and understanding. ‘Yer first death, is it, love? Well, never mind, you’ll get used to it. You get back to yer ward. I’ll tell the chaplain and make sure he gets there.’
It was all over so quickly Grace could hardly take it in. She had only been back on the ward a matter of seconds when the chaplain arrived and was ushered into Harry’s room by Sister.
Staff had instructed Grace to refill all the water glasses even though most of them didn’t need it, and Grace suspected she was just trying to keep her occupied and her mind off what was happening in the side ward.
She hadn’t even reached the end of the ward when the chaplain emerged, accompanied by Sister.
‘Gone has he, then, young Harry?’
Grace nearly dropped the water jug. She hadn’t even realised the patient who had just addressed her was awake, never mind aware of what was happening.
‘You should be asleep, Mr Whitehead,’ she told him, imitating Staff’s firm voice. ‘And if Sister catches you talking we’ll both be for it.’
‘Poor lad, but I reckon he’ll be better off where he’s gone now. Had a bad time, he has, and we all reckoned he wasn’t going to pull through.’
‘When you’ve finished filling those glasses, Campion, Sister wants a word with you.’
Grace nodded, dutifully going over to the table.
‘Staff is going to lay out the patient’s body now, Campion,’ Sister told her. ‘You will assist her with this.’ Grace felt sick. And afraid. She had never seen a dead body, never mind touched one, but Staff was waiting for her and she knew she couldn’t disgrace herself by giving way to her feelings.
‘You’ve already been taught how important it is to respect a patient’s dignity, Nurse. Well, that respect is just as important now.’
As she spoke Staff was carefully folding back part of the sheet, preparatory to washing Harry’s body, taking the same care not to expose more of him than needed to be exposed as she would have done were he still alive.
The smell from his flesh was appalling, especially once they had removed the bandages, but Staff worked as calmly as though it wasn’t there. Grace’s hands trembled as she helped her to re-bandage his poor stumps with their blackened flesh, but for the most part, Staff Nurse Reid simply