My recent post about nurses deserves a big brother. The experience at RPA lasted around 48 hours and gave me a taste of what a ward nurse's life is like. I came home at the weekend after 7 days in Strathfield Private Hospital and wanted to provide a further insight into a nurse's life - from a patient's point of view.
OK, so details first. I was in for a partial nephrectomy. They cut you open (in my case, the incision is around 18" long) and remove the tumor from your kidney. They have to cut through 7 layers of muscle and all of those layers are stitched back together and have to heal. My operation was a complete success and, in fact, left me with more of my kidney (80%) than everyone hoped for.
Now, enter the nurses, as the recovery begins. This ward was made up of either urology patients like me or osteo patients (knee replacements, etc), so the recovery period, it seems, falls to fairly standard patterns and procedures. It begins the day after the operation, when they try to get you out of bed. This is for very good reasons, as congestion settles on your lungs very quickly and is an ideal breeding ground for infections. Just how easy it is to get one of these, I'll explain later.
Well Day #2 didn't go as planned and I couldn't get off the bed. Excruciating pain and I wanted to hit the next person who tried to get me up, but they came back and tried again in the afternoon - because it is SO important. It's important for fighting the congestion, but it's also important for other reasons. My second night was really uncomfortable, due to some friction grazes from the mattress and general muscle aches from too long in bed.
Here's a tip for all you blokes reading this - the sooner you get up, the sooner the catheter comes out, ok?
Well day #3 saw be raise myself off the bed relatively easily, albeit painfully. Still needed a sponge bath in bed, but sat up in a chair and walked a little. Physio now becomes the most important person in my life, nagging me (necessarily) to get breathing deeply and to cough up phlegm. Ouch! (I'm writing this a full week later and coughing is still very painful). Day #3 also saw a temperature spike, because the bugs were loving my chestfull of muck that I hadn't been able to cough up yet.
From day #4, the nurses really come into their own. Now it's their job to get me up each day etc. The Ward Manager. Sister Hong is the sort of person every team needs as a leader. She led by example - "Do as I do" and is clearly respected by both her staff and the doctors. The catheter comes out (yay!) and is followed by my first shower, where I'm being treated with dignity and respect. By the end of the day I was using the toilet on my own.
I also had dressings changed and bandage-blisters tended too. Was the person gently removing the messy bandages and carefully tending to the painful open sores really the same person who was determined to drag me up off the bed on Sunday, despite my cries of "NO!!!"??
Another temperature spike on Day #5 brought on a stern lecture about the need to breath, walk and cough. Mixed with all of this Jekyll & Hyde personality came a person only a little younger than my self who would stop by for a chat briefly and we'd share stories of what it's like to manage Gen Y. A typical day for Sister Hong was 12 hours and, even on an unusually quiet Thursday, staff were set to work checking stores etc. It reminded my of a printing manager, taking advantage of some downtime to fit in some much needed maintenance.
The Ground Floor West team followed this example and went about their work in the most efficient and caring manner. I'm reminded of mothers with big families who can somehow keep an eye on 4 or 5 kids at the same time. They also cheerfully allowed my in-laws and Johnny's extended family to have a virtual picnic in the corridor when they came to visit me en mass. (They brought food, as always - I'm still nil by mouth at this stage. When I got out of bed the day after their visit, there are 2 cans of coke and 4 oranges beside my bed, in case I needed a snack during the night)
And so to my final day. I'm not allowed to leave until Sister has checked my dressings and given me her personal instructions about follow up care etc. Paperwork is brought down my another nurse and all is set to go. I'm waiting for my lift in the lounge outside reception, even though I was told I could stay in my room if I wanted to. As I said my final goodbye to Sister Hong and her team, I could sense a degree of distance already forming. I was going and there were sick people who needed her attention. I was a bit like a tradesman's finished work - no time to sit back and be satisfied, there's another urgent job to get on with.
And then, just when you think that chapter is closed completely, Sister Hong wanders over when she sees me pacing around the reception corridor (sitting for too long is a no-no, remember?). "You OK buddy? Need anything?".
No Sister, I'm fine thanks :). And it's thanks you and your team. Dr Sved did a great job on my operation ans the staff physio gave me some great self-help tools, but it's the nurses who made me well again.
Nurses definitely get counted amoungst Stuff that's good in the World' :)
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Thursday, July 05, 2012
A wonderful life - and then some!
This post is written right in the middle of NAIDOC Week. For anyone not reading this in Australia, here's an explanation:
NAIDOC Week celebrations are held across Australia each July to celebrate the history, culture and achievements of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. NAIDOC is celebrated not only in Indigenous communities, but by Australians from all walks of life. The week is a great opportunity to participate in a range of activities and to support your local Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander community.
NAIDOC originally stood for ‘National Aborigines and Islanders Day Observance Committee’. This committee was once responsible for organising national activities during NAIDOC Week and its acronym has since become the name of the week itself.
There are a couple of reasons why this week of events is a bit special for me. Firstly, the Aboriginal Tent Embassy was established on the lawn outside what is now Australia's old Parliament House on my birthday in 1972 - January 27. It started off a year of political awakening for me, as a 13 y o student, that culminated in the election of the Whitlam labor Government in November - and we all know how that ended a few years later!
The second and by now the most important reason that I like all that is associated with NAIDOC Week is the depth of local activities across local communities. The list just from NSW alone has just over 70 events and activities across the state, most of them outside of the Sydney CBD and in suburban or regional communities and local government areas.
Some of the events are held outside of the week itself for a variety of reasons. Homebush Bay High School held their event early because NAIDOC Week itself falls during the school holidays, while at Blacktown; they have the Western Sydney NAIDOC Dinner dance on July 13.
There’s also a series of awards presented during the week and I was particularly taken by the story of the 2011 Lifetime Achievement Award recipient, Ned Cheedy. Ned Cheedy died in April this year, aged 105.
(I’m aware at this point that there may be some cultural sensitivity associated with writing or talking about aboriginal people who have passed on. I mean no offence and hope that I can be forgiven if I am breaking any cultural taboos here.)
I remember a conversation once with my ‘adopted’ grandpa, Pop Bresnahan. He was born early in the 20th century and told me that, in his lifetime, man had conquered the power of flight and, by the time he was retiring from work, was sending men into outer space and had landed on the moon. Even in my own lifetime, we’ve seen the invention and introduction of cassette tapes to CD’s to MP3 players, mobile telephones that first looked like brick blocks and are now miniature and can have video and a myriad of other applications, Kodak instamatic cameras to multi megapixel digital cameras on mobile phones, etc. etc. etc.
But, imagine what Ned Cheedy saw in his 105 year lifetime! He spent pretty much all of his life in Western Australia, mainly in the Pilbara region. As an adult, he worked tirelessly to rehabilitate people addicted to alcohol, having seen first-hand the devastating effect it had on people’s lives and on families and communities.
He traveled extensively in his region, educating students/children, archaeologists, anthropologists, environmentalists and biologists and helping them to gain a better understanding of the land that he called home. Importantly he was a vital link across generations. Family members who were elders when Ned was a child would have witnessed first-hand the early settlement of Australia and their parents would remember times before white people came to the country. His experiences and his ability to share them with others are a strong testimony to the value of older people in our communities.
I’m a little over half of Ned’s final age and I can’t imagine what the next 50 years will be like, if I could ever live so long. What’s GOOD about this story is that Ned was listened to, respected and recognised for his life, his experiences, his work and his contributions to society, even though I’m sure each one of those lives he helped would have seemed like a relatively small achievement to him.
Next time I’m asked: “Who, from history, would you invite to a dinner party at your place?” Ned will be on the list, along with my g. g. grandfather (the first of my ancestors to migrate to Australia from England) a few others.
Feel like commenting on this post? Tell me who you’d invite to your place.
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