Carry on Nurse Page #4

- What?

- Stupid Nurse Dawson didn't get the details.

- Shall I telephone, Sister?

I'm quite capable of making a telephone call

for myself, thank you, Staff Nurse.

Please get Mr Jackson's bed ready

for the admission.

Yes, Sister.

Been starving yourself, Mr Gray?

Couldn't eat. Such pain...last night.

Good. That means we don't have to starve you

and I can operate that much sooner.

Nurse. I'll operate tonight.

Yes, Mr Stephens.

- What's all this in aid of, nurse?

- Massage. To prevent bed sores.

Oh, yeah?

Getting to the bottom of the trouble, eh?

That's right.

Ooh!

Ah. Lovely.

(Giggles)

Whoa!

- Anything wrong?

- Oh, no, no, no. Very nice, thank you.

Whoo!

Phew!

(Chattering)

Janey... Supposing I couldn't ever fight again?

Just suppose.

Deep down, would you really be pleased?

Well, I... I don't like you fighting.

Sometimes I can hardly bear to look.

But you're happy when you're pushing

someone's face into the middle of next week.

And I like to see you happy.

So you get that hand better

and come out fighting.

I'm glad I married you, Jane.

I've got a surprise for you.

- Pickled red cabbage?

- It's not red, it's ginger.

- My manager!

- I'll send him along.

What a pity I'm not allowed to bring the children.

- Yes, it's allowed in the private wards.

- Oh, well, we couldn't afford that.

- Hush.

- What?

Oh, nothing.

Rhoda, dear, do try to say pardon, not what.

Sorry, Henry. Do you like this?

What? I mean, pardon?

- Oh, yes. Oh, very nice. Yes.

- For when you come home.

I bought it with our divvy from the Co-op.

Rhoda, please!

- What's the matter, dear?

- Oh, never mind.

Any other news?

Ooh!

We've had a letter from the building society.

Rhoda!

- Ginge!

- Bernie!

Norm as well! (Chuckles)

Come on in.

Well, how are you, Bernie boy?

You look great. Just great, son. Great.

Well, give him the flowers, then.

You'll choke 'em gripping 'em like that.

Ta. Ta, Norm, my old sparring partner.

- How are you, mate?

- Yeah, fine.

Yeah, he's fine.

No-one will ever know how I suffered when

you busted your hand like that, Bernie boy.

'Ey, Ginger, why haven't you come in here

to see me before now?

Well, as it happens,

I have got a reason for coming to see you.

That is, a reason over and above my natural,

warm and human concern

as a manager for one of my boys.

I am a showman.

But I have an unpleasant duty to perform.

I have come here to give you a thick ear.

I won, didn't I? This was an accident, you know,

but I beat him.

- Too true, you won. Too flippin' fast, you won.

- But I had him beat.

What do you expect me to do?

Dance the cha-cha for five rounds?

You're being flippant,

but I'm glad to see you've got the right idea.

- I don't understand.

- You don't understand.

I'm a showman. That's what you've got to be.

You've reached the stage now

where you're right in the public eye.

What you need is a gimmick.

- Gimmick?

- Gimmick.

Belt up! Yeah, a gimmick.

Something the public associates with you alone.

You remember Frisco Freddie.

You remember Frisco.

- Frisco, yeah.

- Yeah, that's right.

He was a boxer who used to ride punches

all the time.

Exactly. He used to ride 'em. Ride 'em.

The crowd loved it.

Yeah, well, look, I could do that.

'Ere, Norm.

You used to train with Frisco, didn't you?

- You used to train with Frisco, didn't you?

- That's right.

Well, come on, then! Let's show Bern

how you used to spar with Frisco.

'Ere. I tell you, it was marv...

He was just like a ballet dancer.

And he used to punch...

Hold that. Right, easy now.

Punch, ride. Punch, ride.

Punch, ride. Punch, ride.

He used to ride the lot, he did.

Until he was ready, and then...bosh!

Knocked 'em cold, it did!

- Nurse!

- Nurse.

Just a minute, Mr York.

- Hello. What's that?

- For your bowels. Sit down, please.

- Have you um...given one of these before?

- Oh, good gracious! Hundreds.

Get it down, now.

Other end, nurse.

Never mind. With a face like mine,

it's a mistake anyone might make.

Persecution! That's what it is, persecution!

- I shall write to the Minister for Health.

- Never mind, you'll live through it.

It's a miracle you do!

You all ought to strike!

One day, that's all it would take.

One day, and the nursing profession

would advance a hundred years.

Why don't you organise a march

to Downing Street?

And Sister Anna will carry the banner.

Oh! The whole fat-headed farce

makes me puke!

There. That's you settled.

Settled? Huh!

I feel about as settled as an active volcano.

(Quirky orchestral music)

(Trombone music)

(Drum roll)

(Triangle pings)

Please don't lie on top of the bed clothes.

Matron's rule.

- Oh, sorry.

- In bed or out, but never on.

- Do please try and remember.

- OK, OK.

- Everything all right, Mr Bishop?

- Fine thanks, Matron.

- My hand's getting better. Sort of knitting.

- Excellent. Keep up the good work.

Everything all right, Mr Reckitt?

Medically, yes, Matron. Otherwise, no.

This is my first day out of bed.

I have to move about, I am told,

yet rest when tired.

As I have stitches in my stomach,

all movement is painful.

Oh, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about that,

Mr Reckitt.

I realise that, Matron.

I wonder, though,

if you could satisfy my curiosity on one point.

I will try. What is the point, Mr Reckitt?

Why must I endure the extra pain

of getting into and out of bed

when I can rest just as effectively

lying on top of the bedclothes?

I don't like to see men lying about.

It makes the ward look untidy.

I see. It isn't a medical rule.

I don't see what that has to do with it.

I'll explain, Matron.

If a doctor asks me to hang by one arm

from the ceiling,

wearing an aqualung, with my birthday tattooed

on my left buttock in shorthand, I'll do it.

He aims to cure me.

Your rule has nothing to do with my cure.

Therefore, it has no meaning in here.

- Mr Reckitt...

- Excuse me.

I wish to rest.

Sorry, Matron. I thought your round was over.

I'm so sorry...

Sister, this ward is the slackest in the hospital.

And the untidiest.

- Oh, but Matron...

- See that all the beds are remade at once.

- All the beds?

- I think you heard what I said, Sister.

Good morning.

Staff Nurse, this ward's a disgrace!

You have no control over the nurses.

- But, Sister!

- It's time we had a little discipline!

- Remake all the beds.

- The beds?

Beds, beds, beds! Are you deaf? B-E-D-S!

Go and do it at once! Now!

- Yes, Sister.

(Door slams)

Nurse Axwell! Nurse Axwell!

- Yes, Staff?

- Come here.

- Get new bedclothes for the whole ward.

- Today?

Not tomorrow, not Christmas, but today.

T-O-D-A-Y! Today!

Nurse Dawson!

- Nurse Dawson!

- Yes?

- Yes what?

- Yes, nurse.

- Get you!

- Oh, you're so rude, you student nurses!

- Come and help me get fresh linen.

- But this isn't the day for...

One more word out of you and I'll report you!

Now come along!

Yes, nurse.

- Ooh!

- Oh, you clumsy great oaf!

- Well, look who's talking!

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