George is home.

. Now some of what I may write here will amaze some, offend others and make some others still look at me anew. Who would have thought that I would take on a medical specialist, a ward doctor, a ward senior nurse and come away knowing that I would never allow my husband of 42 years to be placed within their incompetent hands again? And this was at Darwin Private hospital.
I have to confess that my language was pro-fain, it modelled the language of sociology and bureaucracy and it was delivered by a very angry me. Told in spectacular style that silos of knowledge only benefit those with access to those silos, and if they had been in education they would have been left behind 10 years ago. I am not proud of my performance and recognised that I used language as shock treatment, but would not back up as the Specialist doctor said he was now angry with me and my reply was that it was a two way street. I then went onto outline the issues, using their words to show what was not happening and the lack of processes, procedures, that they were lacking in checks and balances and accountability that three people would be writing reports on this and I could dial their numbers or he could listen to them now.
Let me explain, I arrived at the hospital at 3.23pm Tuesday to find George drugged out of his mind through the relaxant drugs while he has for his radiation treatment. It took three nurses that I called to for help to move him from the toilet to the bed again, one session they allowed him to bang his head into the door way on the left side again. This side peripheral vision is the one that has been lost since his operation. I spoke to the Ward doctor about having the medicine reduced to the lowest dose possible, and we agreed that it was advisable to keep George in hospital a little longer to ascertain if the lower dosage was correct. I left some three hours later feeling no reassurance in my heart that all would be well with him. Thea who has been here the Friday before and had seen firsthand that the dosage had knocked him out, had talked to the staff at both centres but nothing had been done.
In the past ten days since starting radiation and chemo he has fallen twice and has stitches in his left eyebrow and left upper arm, trying o get out of bed to the toilet and being let slip off the toilet by a night nurse who stood at the door while he attempted to position himself on toilet seat. This despite a notice in the room that two people must be involved in movement of him at all times.
Wednesday morning I woke at my usual 6am and was in tears almost instantly, I knew that I had to see him again and talk to the D.V.A. sponsored program people about their work with him once he came home. Cancelled my classes and took a precious day off work, one of only three left to me.
Meeting time rolled around and no D.V.A program people so I set out on the phone journey to find who to talk to and finally found out that the visit was cancelled as George was to stay in hospital. Of course no one thought to tell Goy or myself. Tried ringing the hospital and could find no one willing to tell me where the discharge nurse was or how I could get her a message.
Drove to the hospital.
Entering George's room I found his breakfast meal with only one piece of plain toast eaten, a mug full of milo granules!!!!! Undissolved tablets lay in the bottom of a cup and all breakfast food still there at 1pm. This from a man who starts the day with 9 tablets and proceeds to take more all day culminating in those for chemotherapy. The catering manager was dragged up by the senior nurse to explain the milo and I was amazed she could do it. The story was that George had asked for milo granules so he could have milo drinks throughout the day, despite having milo drinks for the past month delivered to him 4 times a day by the food workers. George who walks with a quad stick with assistance from others, would walk to the end of the ward, fill up a plastic glass with hot water, drag his left leg carrying the water back to his room and make a milo drink of water and milo. And that was without drugs in his system. I threw my hands in the air, turned around and walked back into his room. George who has  family with him from day one till Monday when Thea went home and who always had one of us with him for at least 4 – 6 hours a day.
I lost my temper in spectacular style, then Kieran arrived from work, George reappeared from radiation drugged out of his mind because the Ward nurse had not given him the lower dose or told the cancer clinic, so they had given him the highest dose available and again he had no body functions, a lump of clay would have had more animation and responses. The Ward nurse and two other nurses tried to 'walk' George from bed to toilet to chair for his long overdue lunch, the entire time saying lift your left leg George and tapping it while holding him upright in a back of the shorts crutch destroyer hold. I was glad that he had a male nappy on, otherwise he could have received damage to the scrotum, why was he now in a male nappy, because as they said he is becoming incontinent. No he is not; he was just drugged out of his mind.
Nick rang, Kieran talked through what had not be done and done, I cried over the phone to Nick and we arranged to take George home Thursday. Thursday afternoon arrived; we packed him up, picked up the armada of pills from the chemist, paid for a basket of flowers thanking the staff to be delivered the next day. Not an apology but a thank you for some good nursing and came home.
Friday the D.V.A nurse arrived, the taxi came to pick him up and deliver him back from radiation therapy, I rang Goy at end of teaching to learn that the doctor at radiation had asked George had he taken his tablet and of course George who has no short term memory function left said no and I arrived back to a drugged out husband. We had given him the tablet before I left for work and Goy for shopping. When he recovered somewhat he said it was like being enclosed in a large green cloud with red edges. Of course coming down off two doses lasted till half midnight when I gave him a half sleeping tablet and he settled into sleep

Back in the Northern Territory.

In a literary sense; after all I am a Lit/Eng teacher, this past week should be called ‘the hounds of hell nipping at our feet while we bravely laugh in their faces’.

Friday 25^th October Nick and I along with George left Adelaide for Darwin at 8.40am; well we attempted to do so and finally succeeded. I dropped Nick off at The Memorial Hospital and drove to Adelaide airport, booked in our bags, picked up seat tickets etc. and waited for a wheel chair assisted taxi, a son and husband. None turned up with my loved ones; I paced the airport car park in 9 C weather with wind chill factor way below my comfort zone. I wore jeans, walking shoes, a cotton long sleeved shirt and light weight jerkin – I was going to Darwin heat 35C no breeze humidity 100%!!!!!. A missed phone call from the hospital alerted me to catastrophe, to be told they had left already, more pacing inside and out, it kept me warm, another missed call – stupid phone sound were on mute – what idiot did that, highest call sound phone in jeans pocket. Phone call from Nick – taxi did not come Dad back in hospital stay there hospital trying to get us on next flight at 12.30pm. Drank a very large hot chocolate and ate some gluten free thingy and waited after getting baggage off earlier flight and cancelling tickets explaining the problems. Wait, all travel done through Department of veterans Affairs in Brisbane QLD, they are on normal summer time, SA is on daylight savings time, NT on Central Australian time and we had to wait till officers were opened, all a difference of 90 minutes to QLD and 30 mins to the NT.

Pacing now with a luggage trolley loaded with 3 peoples bags in my left hand, a wheel chair loaded with my computer bag and handbag in  y left and now pacing at 11.30 at the taxi rank, just ready to morph into a monster and start ripping heads off taxi drivers. The men arrive, dad in his wool jumper, beany and jeans, yes warm, me now covered up in my purple hoody that I extricated from one of our bags son Nick took one look and laughed out loud. Got to new airline counter to be told we did not have wheel chair access, Nick lost the plot, counter man took pity on us and we were given up front second row seats with wheel chair access. Quite impressive performance when Nick gets frustrated in public. Toileting and lunch 10 minutes to go to our early boarding and they tell me Dad has had a fall to the floor that morning. I sat stunned then segued into an interrogator of M16 standard. In retrospect I should have cancelled the flight and returned to the hospital but I didn’t and we boarded and performed contortions to get us into the second row seats, one unable to move without aid from 2 people, but with some kind airline people we made it. I then had Nick tell me everything that had happened in sequence as I prepared a report in my head to DVA and the hospital.

Darwin, heat, humidity, taxi, family and hospital, home; I logged in George’s fall and asked for a doctor who came and examined him, got Panadol and helped him settle in, he looked dreadful and I think my heart was about to stop from fear. I still cannot write about it within crying. Back in early Saturday morning to find he had woken in the night screaming in pain from leg cramps and had to be held in a shower and then sedated to help him relax. More doctor talk from all of us, the two sons stayed guard all day and I took over that night. Sunday I took first visit and met the physiotherapist who I had taught at Katherine High School years ago, made me feel very old, and spoke very firmly to staff about reading his medical reports before asking him to get out of his wheel chair which he cannot currently do. I used a tone of voice I learned in the Army and it worked, with a semi smile but with tone. Family came, tablets worked, church members came and we all laughed a lot recounting silly things such as the Monty Python team act George put on after we woke from his operation. All feeling better, exhausted but calmer, me only crying on occasions when no one is around or talking on the phone to sympathetic DVA staff members

Monday what rolled out and the subsequent 4 days was something that Patton’s 5^th Armoured Corp could have emulated. Physio, medical help for pneumonia that we didn’t know he had, support from DVA and other organisations, visits to chemo and radiation, daughter Thea and granddaughters Holly (10) and Tahlia (8) flew in on Thursday. A car crash on Friday after a storm as another car slide into the back of my car, the washing machine finally dying and me steaming into a shop to buy a new one, Goy (daughter in law) and I ripped apart the boxing and installed it and love using it. Family all talking at once, phone calls from others joining the debate(s); just seeing George respond to physio and now able to move with the aid of a walker to bath and toilet and care for himself as he wants to do-  Heaven !!!

George home – by the end of the month all going well with a 12 week intensive support system in place, chemo and radiation treatment for 6 of those weeks.

Today is Sunday and after church I make a load of hot scones, with jam and cream and we all troop into the hospital to eat them with father. Activities that are part of our memories of 43 years, comfort, safety and lots of laughter, in other words -Family history.