Tuesday, 26 November, 2013

In William Boyd’s Solo, the latest iteration of the James Bond saga, 007 gets into a spot of bother in Africa, which leads to a spell in an intensive care unit at a sanatorium on a British Army base to the south of Edinburgh. There, he is attended to by Nurse Sheila McRae and such is the quality of her care that Bond begins to meditate on the heroic nature of her profession:

“She helped Bond on with his dressing gown after he’d dried himself and Bond reflected on the curious, intimate non-intimacy that existed between nurse and patient. You could be standing there, naked, as your bedpan was emptied or a catheter was inserted in your penis, chatting to the nurse about her package holiday in Tenerife as if you were passing time at a bus stop waiting for your bus to arrive. They had seen everything, these nurses, Bond realised. Words like prudish, embarrassed, shocked, disgusted or ashamed simply weren’t in their vocabulary. Perhaps that was why people — why men — found them so attractive.”

That James Bond. Along with being such an effective killer, he’s so wise when it comes to matters of the human heart. Nurses are, indeed, astonishing people and they deserve far more recognition and reward from society than they currently get.

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