My most abiding memory of Peta, among many happy ones and despite her well recognised nursing skills as our matron, is of her misdiagnosing my appendicitis at the Choir School in 1958.
Having pedalled many laps on my bicycle round The Oaks one evening near the end of my last spring term, I can remember experiencing a nagging pain somewhere near my right groin.
When it was still there the next day I went to tell Peta, whereupon she proceeded to examine me.
After spending a little while feeling around my nether region she said something like: “Well Blake, I can assure you of one thing. It isn’t appendicitis.”
The discomfort gradually eased and I went on holiday, looking forward to bowling in the first eleven cricket team in my final term at the school (joining fiery fast bowler Pettit at the other end).
Sadly, on the day before the end of the hols, as I was boarding a bus I was suddenly doubled up in excruciating pain in the same part of my body and rushed off to hospital.
As you can guess, after some brief tests my grumbling appendix was whipped out and the pain never returned!
However, much to my regret and (I suspect) because of my recent operation, I was never called on to bowl more than a couple of overs in each match that summer.
On a more positive note it was Peta who, when I was confined to the sickroom with mumps, introduced me to the Chronicles of Narnia for which I shall always be grateful.
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