The Long Way Home - Chapter 4 - Gladstone Day 2

Its a medical day, today but first a foray out to get a replacement leg for the van. Lister Automotive is the referred supplier and I am on their doorstep early. They have a huge array of caravan parts, not the exact one I need but they are very helpful in ensuring the one I purchase will be fit for purpose. Bruce my cousin will come over later and help me fit the device.

Within half an hour I am back at the van.

Robyn has an appointment to get a referral for a test she needs to have. I need to replenish prescriptions, look at my injured elbow (damaged propelling the throw net at creek prawns in Mackay) and order a blood test to sort out why my ankles wont return to normal size even with ice and elevation.

Its a far cry from my first experiences with the medical profession. As a child I was susceptible to asthma type croup and ended up in hospital with in a team tent on a number of occasions. Twenty miles from hospital on a farm with a “party line” (Pudman Creek 6H) as the telephone communication with the outside world, the chances of an ambulance not only making it to the farm but then transferring with critical effectiveness were nonexistent.

Many was the time, mum, a registered nurse, would simply “pack, wrap and run” (a strategy I have employed in some other emergencies), like the time I fell between the truck and the shelves of the machinery shed opening the back of my head as I struck the exposed axle of the rear wheels, or the time I pulled a young horse on top of myself breaking my pelvis and arm, when I woke to the shooting pain of the car bouncing down the road towards town. I had to get her to slow down as a pain mitigation strategy.

My father evidently had four heart attacks prior to his 40th birthday – he lived to 83. None of these episodes saw an ambulance head to My Buffalo, rather a frantic car load of people turn up at Yass Hospital much like it was I am told when we were all born. I have memories of the last one, coming while we had visitors and he had gone to bed earlier only to erupt into the dining room where we were playing cards roaring about the noise we were making and mum packing him into the car nadd heading into town.

Yass Hospital gives me no “good” memories. I had my last encounter with my paternal grandfather in that place. Large wards of beds, whether it was the children’s ward (where I was known to occupy from time to time)  or the men’s ward, strewn down either side of a large corridor like dormitory. We walked up to the bed of my grandfather, he propped his head on the top of the table adjacent and simply looked. There were no curtains, no privacy and no talking.

He died not long after that visit.

The only time an ambulance came to Mt Buffalo in my memory was when we injured a Venturer Scout. The Troop on a camping expedition to the farm were back at the house waiting for their bus to take them home. A game of soccer broke out on the foreground in front of the house which I had used as a football field for games of imaginary rugby league. It had goal posts constructed of horse jump fence posts enhanced with wattle trucks for extra height  but what it didn’t have was level ground. 

Add to that the competitive, rambunctious nature of the Venturers, where a stray leg might impede the breaking loose of a competitor and soon enough you have a player sprawled on the ground, in pain with a dislocated shoulder and in need of medical attention. Because the bus was yet to arrive to return them home the ambulance was summoned, but in the meantime we transferred the injured player from the ground to the wire frame of a shearer’s bed, at which time, with the field cleared, the game continued.

During the visit they had camped at the base of Mt Buffalo. They had investigated the area and with our help sought out rabbits (upin which they had dined), foxes and kangaroos. The leader was one of our neighbours from across the hills and it has always intrigued me, why they sought out Mt Buffalo as opposed to camping on his property. Perhaps the ruggedness of the hill line of which Mt Buffalo was a part gave greater mystique than the much flatter land of his holding.

In later life I too would become a Scout Leader and bring city kids to this place to camp, but not in tents, we used the shearers quarters on Brooklands to house the Cub Scouts.

The ambulance arrived at the same time as the bus and apparently in no great hurry given the state of the road. They simply transferred him to the van and left.

For us today, the outlook is less grim. Robyn gets her referral and I spend some time with Dr Dane Anderson, discussing my issues. He refers me for 2 ultrasounds, one on my elbow to ensure no structural damage, just tennis elbow, and one on my heart seeking a cause for my swollen ankles, and a blood test and now we get a taste of Queensland/Australian medical services.

Calling the Radiology Practice, as with many businesses I am immediately put into a holding sequence suggesting my call is important to them and the next available technician will be with me shortly and reverts to a marketing spiel. The spiel is broken every 15 or so seconds with the message “my call is important to them and the next available technician will be with me shortly”. A regular but monotonous cycle.

In about 15 minutes the phone drops out of that cycle and begins to ring. Excellent I am about to be dealt with – no – it keeps ringing and ringing. Eventually it is answered and we start the process of booking in.

Now the fun starts. The first available appointment for the elbow ultrasound is in a week. That is OK we are going to have to stay here in Gladstone for about a fortnight waiting for Robyn’s expected results, so I take the booking. The second though, which is a echocardiogram – a heart test – is not available until the end of the month – WHAT!!! Just as well I am not in need of urgent testing. We will not be anywhere near Gladstone at the end of the month preparing for what lies ahead in the middle of February in Brisbane. I decline the appointment. I am not in any pain so it can wait.

It all begs the question – where are the services. Are government agencies utilising funds correctly in the areas of greatest concern, or is my anger an unfounded tirade at things making my life less than optimum. The squeaky wheel always gets the most attention and one wonders if the bleeding hearts, bleating loudest have diverted resources away from core requirements or management misjudged ever increasing demand.

One also wonders how the grey nomads in general, deal with this type of issue. Do they simply “keep going” as we are prepared/required to do, potentially falling off the perch in a cliff jumping event at some later date. Certainly we have extended our stay in Gladstone for Robyn’s results but what about those on holidays with time frames?

My anger settles and we plan what things we can do in the extended visit. Certainly a fishing expedition with the cousins is definitely on the table now given we will be here across a couple of weekend periods. On our last visit we also collected many brochures suggesting things to do in the area. We may see if we can deal with them all. In the meantime there are lots of “work” things to do, lots of blogs to write and upload, not to mention photographs as well.

Cousin Bruce arrives to help with the van repairs. Replacing one of the legs is easily done then its the mudflaps. The present and now damaged attachment of them seems flimsy but strong enough until the episode with the bollard. Replacing with like for like does not seem adequate. Several trips to Bunnngs and we have the right solution. Only time will tell if the upgrades will pass “the test”.

With the two weeks we will now be “living” in Gladstone, planning is required as to what we want to achieve whilst we are here. With all the cousins working it allows for much time to complete administrative tasks without the need to consider them until the afternoons, evenings or weekends. Locked to this address we also do not have to overly consider what to do to keep ourselves interested and Robyn will need convalescent time once the procedure is done.

Its a perfect time to concentrate on all the tax work and complete it so the times ahead are not having extra pressure of deadlines outside the family.