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wouldn’t even let the ‘washer women nurses’ in the hospital. But Dr. Schmidt saw that in the big cities some schools were even giving girls formal training on how to help a doctor in the hospital. Still, many of the nurses were from very poor families because higher class families felt it wasn’t proper for a refined lady to do that kind of work.
    Dr. Schmidt disagreed. He said in the future nurses would be important.
    The nurses wore white uniforms which were called ‘fever proof’, protecting the nurses from catching any fevers from their patients. The uniforms were also suppose to be a public display of their feminine virtue—being able to treat patients while maintaining a respectable appearance.
    The uniforms were a long sleeved dress with a starched collar, ruffled sleeves, covered by a matching starched apron with shoulder straps. Their white frilly hats were tied underneath their chins.
    Occasionally, a doctor would put on a white coat or large apron if he thought an operation was going to splatter blood and get him dirty. Most of the time the surgeons would just take off their jacket and roll up their sleeves. If the room was cold, sometimes the doctors even kept their topcoats on.
    However, some doctors were also starting to wear white coats because scientists wore them. Scientists and doctors didn’t always get along. Scientists were trying to debunk the tried and true medical treatments, like blood letting. Thus, to appear more up-to-date scientifically, doctors began wearing white coats, too.
    If scientists and doctors didn’t always agree, there was no argument that the doctor was the most powerful person in the hospital. Nobody would even think of questioning his opinion or authority. Dr. Schmidt was even important in the town. His opinion was sought by a variety of people on many topics. Bridget felt privileged to be working for such a man.

CHAPTER 9

BOXER
    B RIDGET sat straight up in bed. She felt chills knowing somebody was watching her. Quickly she pulled a blanket around her nightgown covered body and stood up. The drapes to her window were drawn. Nobody could see in. Quietly, she opened the bedroom door and peaked out into the hall. Nobody was there.
    It must have been a nightmare, Bridget surmised, and got back into bed. Unable to shake the feeling that somebody had been looking at her, she was unable to fall back to sleep.
    “You look tired, dear. Didn’t you sleep well?” Mrs. Schmidt placed a big plate of ham, potatoes and eggs on the table.
    “I must have had a nightmare. I woke up thinking somebody was staring at me.”
    “What?” Mrs. Schmidt was so shocked at the thought that she stopped filling the individual plates with her flavorful cooking.
    “I didn’t hear anything. I didn’t see anybody. It was just a powerful feeling that somebody was watching me.”
    “We’ve never had any prowlers,” reassured Mrs. Schmidt as she set a filled plate in front of Bridget and offered her some toast.
    “I know. It must have been a bad dream,” said Bridget trying to convince herself.
    “You’d better hurry and eat because Dr. Schmidt is already at the hospital seeing patients. He’ll be at the office with a lot of notes for you to type up.”
    “You’re right,” agreed Bridget who was having a difficult time trying to banish her fears. She would concentrate on typing up Dr. Schmidt’s notes. The hospital was finding it a big help to have readable, typed words to follow, rather than the handwriting of a doctor who scribbled.
    It was an easy two block walk to Dr. Schmidt’s office, but this morning’s walk was different. Bridget had an ominous feeling. Even the maple trees looked eerie. Bridget couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. A couple of times she suddenly turned around, but nobody was there. Bridget had never been accused of having a vivid imagination and, as far as she was concerned, she didn’t need to acquire one now.
    The door to Dr. Schmidt’s