THE OPERATION
On larger East Anglian farms in the early 1950s before mechanical bulk handling had been introduced there was still a considerable labour requirement. On Suffolk farms of around 400 acres it would not be unusual for a dozen or more agricultural workers to sit down together for their mid-morning break. Over flasks of tea and packed sandwiches a wide variety of subjects might come up in conversation. The NHS had become established and now issues that had once been neglected for fear of medical bills were being treated. It so happened that operations became the topic this particular morning.
Old Fred who had fought in the trenches during the First World War described having shrapnel removed from his thigh and thought he could still feel one piece left there. Old Jimmy Billings, a bachelor approaching retirement, who had always lived on his own, listened in silence. Jimmy had always enjoyed rude good health and had seldom been near a doctor, but now his GP had referred him to the local hospital for an operation and he was beginning to feel a trifle nervous about it. These were the days well before pre-op visits and procedural information packs being sent out.
Conversation ran on and Billy Brown, always known for getting words mixed up, stated that some people had to have an anemone in their bums before they could be operated on. Will Smith corrected him “No Billy, you mean an enema.” Will had recently had colon surgery and launched into a long and very graphic description of the procedure which sounded like a torture devised by a nation that had not signed the Geneva Convention to poor old Jimmy.
Talk switched to the necessity for pubic shaving and still mixing words up Billy Brown said his wife had that done when she had a hysterical rectum. Someone else said imagine yourself being shaved by some young nurse. Jimmy did and further panic set in. What if a nurse’s touch triggered his libido – how embarrassing that would be. He resolved he would try and avoid these things at all costs.
Old Toby Thompson had told Jimmy that when he was taken into hospital the first thing they did was put him in a bath and then scrub him vigorously from head to toe and because he had no pyjamas they put him in a gown that was open at the rear.
The remote village still like a few others in Suffolk at that time had not yet been connected to any mains services. Jimmy, who still slept in his long johns and a. long sleeve vest at nights, had been out and bought a pair of pyjamas which he had packed in a small attache case with a few essentials. The night before the operation he brought in the old tin bath, boiled kettles of water, and by the flickering light of an oil lamp soaked and scrubbed himself well.
Then standing up in the bath in the dim light he reached for his shaving brush and soap and lathered himself well round the South Polar region. He then opened his old cut-throat razor and from here on things became more difficult. Jimmy had developed a more than ample middle age spread and to shave that region was difficult when he could not look down and see it. Never the less by the flickering lamplight with the aid of a mirror balanced on a chair he set about the task. He came dangerously close to performing a self- circumcision and when the job was completed had to put a large piece of Elastoplast – well I’ll leave you to guess where.
Jimmy had foregone his tea, had no supper and before going to bed took a triple dose of Epsom salts which resulted in him having to get up three times in the night and go down the garden path to the privy. Despite a loudly rumbling tummy he went without breakfast and with his attache case walked to the bus stop.
Arriving at the hospital he followed the signs to the surgical ward where he accosted the first nurse he met and informed her that he was Jimmy Billings and he did not need a shave or an enema. A little taken aback the nurse told Jimmy they had no empty beds on the ward that morning and they were not expecting a new patient. “I think we better go and see Sister” the nurse suggested.
In the ward sister’s office before anything else was said Jimmy insisted on explaining how he had prepared for his operation and no shaving or enemas would be necessary. Sister quickly looked through the case folder’s on her desk ensuring there was no Jimmy Billings file and said “We must go and see Matron.”
A sombre looking Matron looked up from her coffee and said “I hope this intrusion is important.” Whilst the sister explained Jimmy Billings unexpected arrival Jimmy kept interrupting stating he did not require a shave or an enema. After looking down a long list on her desk Matron firmly silenced Jimmy, dismissed the Sister and said “Follow me Mr Billings.”
Jimmy, clutching his case, trotted along behind Matron out of the main hospital building across a car park to a smaller building on the other side. Reaching the office of the Outpatient Sister she announced to her “This is Mr James Billings he’s here today to have a small cyst removed from his outer ear under local anaesthetic. I expect he’ll soon be done and on his bus home in time for tea.” Turning to leave Matron reached the door and her sombre expression changed and she looked back at the sister with a wink and an impish grin and said “Oh! And do make sure all your nurses are aware that he does not need a shave or an enema.”
about the author
Guy Pratt is a retired octogenarian second hand bookseller who enjoys gardening, long walks with his dog and travel. He gravitated into the book trade after earlier years in farming, the army Intelligence Corps and the civil service. Did you enjoy the story? Would you like to shout us a coffee? Half of what you pay goes to the author the other half goes to expenses e.g. Maintaining the web site and setting up The Best of Café Lit book each year.
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