Nursing Lives, our current touring production, was inspired by a news item which reported on some wonderful finds during the refurbishment of the old Worcester Royal Infirmary, which included postcards, dance invitations and love letters dating back to the 1940s. Equally important were the stories and memories of the nurses we met during the making of the show, who told us what it was like to train and work as a nurse in earlier times. Others who trained as nurses have also sent us their stories, and in this guest blog from Sue Roberts she remembers her time as a trainee nurse, and the importance then, as now, of cleanliness in the battle with infection.

In a previous life, before changing careers completely, I became what was called a cadet nurse; this was a two year pre-training programme for young 16 year olds who wanted to train as a State Registered Nurse, the entry age being18 years. The cadet programme was quite harsh by today’s standards, thus weeded out a few, but others put their roots down and grew into fully fledged SRN nurses.

The cadets worked on the wards, in the kitchens, went to college for a day a week and were a pretty lowly bunch of young NHS workers.  We had a uniform of sorts though no caps; our days were filled with basic tasks but cleaning featured at the forefront: we washed beds, bedside tables, mattresses, tidied the linen cupboards, prepared vegetables in the kitchens and were bossed about by the ward sister of whom we were very afraid. But cleaning was the big thing! If you came from a home where cleaning and domesticity was sacrosanct (learned from your mother and grandmother) then you were well equipped.

No one had to teach me how to clean; it was in my DNA. I don't say I liked it but I was exceptionally good at it. And I understood why it was important. Cleaning mattresses after patients had been discharged, or had died, wiping down bedside cupboards and every possible piece of furniture presenting itself on those huge wards was second nature and always done well; occasionally we got to help with sterilising surgical instruments, needles and syringes, standing over the steaming autoclaves; we also emptied bed pans, urine receptacles and cleaned them (of course!) in the sluice room. Learning to make beds to a perfect standard was pure pleasure, by comparison, and certain advancement after the cleaning; also, assisting student nurses or staff nurses, was an unexpected elevation which could turn your head! But not for long. A bucket of strong cleaning fluid and a cloth could soon put you back where you belonged in the nursing hierarchy!

If you carried onto becoming a student nurse, don't think this cleaning ethos or some the lowly tasks ended; it didn't. The first 3 months in pre-school training was both academic but also where you learned important practical procedures, and cleaning still featured, oh yes! And early days when the young student nurse was let on the wards, in the first light, would involve the cleaning of bedside tables, the over-bed tables, the emptying of spittoons and a whole range of immaculate practices which never left us. My daughter tells me that when I visited her in the maternity unit, after giving birth to her second baby, I cleaned her room. It is very likely!

But many retired nurses reading this will remember the cleaning ethos and practice, and know that it was not a bad one. There were ward cleaners, of course, but nurses knew at their very core the importance of keeping wards spotless in the relentless business of beating infection and keeping bugs at bay. I make no further comment, over and above telling my story, and as a reminder to us of Florence Nightingale’s understanding that the most effective way for men to survive the brutalities of terrible injury, and crudeness of surgery during the Crimean War, was cleanliness. Get those hands washed girls!

Sue Roberts