Tuesday, 29 November 2016

Are we all maternity cases?

Recently I have visited the Darwin Private Hospital on more than a few occasions. And I had a little stay there too.

There's a huge variety of facilities within the hospital such as consulting suites for specialists, the NT Cardiac centre, the reproductive medicine unit, a paediatric unit, a palliative care unit, etc. etc. The wards have lovely names - Corella, Jabiru, and Jacana. All birds.

When I needed to have some routine surgery recently I was accommodated in Jabiru Ward. When my husband visited he told me that he saw there were quite a lot of men in that ward.

I found it absolutely humiliating that I was in a hospital ward clearly labelled as a maternity ward when I definitely was not a maternity patient.

I wondered how those male patients felt. Did they tell their workmates where they were? What sort of jokes were told later? Would you like your brother, husband, father, uncle or grandfather to be placed in a maternity ward?

I've spoken to other women who had a similar experience and they also said that they were so extremely embarrassed to be placed in a maternity ward that they could not bear for their friends to know where they were.

I was so annoyed that I spoke to the general manager of the hospital, emphasising that there are non-maternity patients in Jabiru ward and that all patients should be treated with respect. I asked her how her father or mother might feel if they were in a maternity ward. She did not care. She said that nothing would change and she wanted patients to be treated this way. How on earth do people with such attitudes get jobs?

Why can't all hospital patients be treated with dignity and respect?

Monday, 28 November 2016

Upson Downs

I have definitely been living at Upson Downs for the past few months.
Doctors, hospitals, business changes, and more - you name it, we did it. So many highs and lows.

My husband had some sun cancers removed. One on his forehead turned out to be a nodular basal cell carcinoma. Nobody dies from these but they continue to grow bigger, deeper, wider and are extremely difficult to cut out. Other methods do not work - I know from personal experience. Things are tricky on the forehead, so the surgeon had three attempts. Good surgeon. Good pathologist.
You know the drill. Doctor phones. Visit. "Good morning. I did not get it all; so here is the time for the next attempt. Any questions?" Continue until the conversation changes. Hoping the next pathology report will be excellent.

I thought you might find this photo as amusing as we did. This is not a beanie, it's a bandage. After each surgery, the bandage was bigger. My younger sister suggested a red cap might be the finishing touch. Ha!

Two days later My Hero flew to Melbourne to attend a conference about his favourite topic and also have a holiday with our son Rhys. A well-earned break for everyone. Art galleries. Museums. Bookshops. Restaurants. Markets. Talking, talking, talking.

Must go to the airport to collect my hero. Might make a special dinner too. The sky might be cloudy but the sun is shining in my heart today.