You want me to stick it where....?

So here I am, at Royal Naval Hospital Haslar in Gosport, its February 1974. I've learnt how to row a whaler, how to march, shoot, tie knots and a host of other nautical stuff - not forgeting, the importance of spitting on shoes! Now it's time for my part 2 training - the medical stuff!

I will revisit Haslar on a few occasions. My first tale concerns my first visit to a ward and my first 'procedure'.

Around two to three weeks into part 2 it's time to meet a real patient. Theory is great, of course, but it takes on a whole new perspective when applied it to a living, breathing subject.

I now have proudly displayed on my arm, a red cross, signifying I am a member of the medical branch of the Royal Navy. It's OK to wear it at Haslar because it is obvious that I am a lowly trainee. In fact, I revel in the 'rank' of Junior Medical Assistant 2 (JMA2) - can't get any lower than this in the pecking order.

Anyway, back to the task in hand. What fascinating thing will I be doing this morning? This thought runs through my eager mind as I enter one of the general surgery wards. Here, my tutor lets me know that I will be performing a high-colonic lavage (popular in some parts of the community, today) on a poor, unsuspecting patient.

Trust me, this is not the procedure to start your medical career with! I will spare you all the gory details - suffice to say it involved shoving a tube up the patient's rear end, pouring many pints of warm water down the tube and, cleaning the lower intestine as well as possible. This is in preparation for surgery.

So, a smelly, thoroughly unpleasant hour later - I leave the surgical ward having, well and truly, been introduced to the reality of my job. Welcome to my world!