In the 80s, I was the only male nurse in the whole of the NHS – life was one fun-filled, never-ending Strawberry Switchblade video. Mistletoe had never been so exciting. And even if the nurses were all getting married or going to jail, you could always invite the consultant paediatricians, who had little black books like you wouldn’t believe. They’d immediately have the party brimming with Alexis Colby-style mums doing dirty laughs and producing bottles of really expensive chardonnay.

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