When I started my degree, I had every intention of going back to nursing, once I’d absorbed this stuff called psychology that would make it possible to handle problems sparked by inexplicable aversions to red underwear. I applied for the Diploma in Advanced Nursing which pre-dated the degree and for which a Sister’s post was required. Kings offered me that post, should I get on the course. I also applied for PhD places, encouraged by a seismic shift in the third year when I suddenly ‘got it’  and a post graduate life seemed possible. Chelsea college offered me one of its first Doctoral places … Continue reading After the bedpan years