Yesterday morning, Michael was slow to rise and feeling no better. We pondered what to do. We were still tired from our previous trip to Perth and the failure to secure a private hospital bed. But Michael was sweaty and congested and miserable. I rang the specialist's rooms.
Scott's advice was direct. Come to Joondalup Health Campus and enter through Emergency. This gave us our best chance to get Michael into a hospital bed and start him on IV antibiotics. We left within an hour. Vanessa had arrived the previous day and would be able to hold the fort for a few days at least.
We arrived at Joondalup Health Campus at two-thirty. Emergency was almost empty. There was one patient being triaged ahead of us. We were ushered quickly inside the double doors. Michael was wired for sound, bloods taken, a chest X-ray organised, a canula inserted and the first dose of IV antibiotics administered. Just over three hours later, we had been transferred to H4, tha acute medical ward in the private hospital. Scott came into to see Michael, answer our questions and give us a plan for the next few days.
At the same time, I was in constant contact with Alex, who had been also been instructed to come to Emergency, due to abnormal blood tests and an unusual ECG. He arrived by taxi at seven and I joined him at the Triage counter. Emergency was packed, but as Alex's symptoms included chest pain, he was moved straight into a bay inside the department. The staff were efficient and thorough, but time dragged on. Sometime around ten thirty, I was asked whether Alex would be a public or private patient. As the general consensus was that he would go the the Coronary Care Unit, I opted for him to be a public patient. He was still in Emergency when I returned to H4 and crawled onto my recliner rocker bed, next to Michael. I had turned my phone off, so the night staff brought me their phone to answer another question from the Emergency doctor. At this point, I was told he was going to the Cardiology ward as a public patient.
Early this morning, I located the cardiology ward and found Alex. He was in a four bed room with three other very elderly gentlemen. He was very anxious and very tired. The nursing staff were Herculean. There was no news from the Cardiology Team. Alex had further blood tests after breakfast. He was scheduled to have a cardiac ultrasound at eleven, but the waiting time blew out and he didn't return until after lunch.
The afternoon was spent waiting for reports, his blood test results, his ultrasound, for the cardiology team. I was darting backwards and forwards between one end of the hospital and the other. We didn't have a diagnosis, a time frame or a plan. A heart attack was suspected, then inflammation of his heart caused by a virus. His aspirin was increased twelve fold, a painful anti cogulent injection was given and new medication added to his regime. And we still knew nothing.
The staff were doing their best. I had no complaints at all with their efforts. But the public hospital system of operation seemed to be in a near stationary state of chaos, nothing like the streamlined treatment we had received from Michael's specialist, his team and the staff of H4.
In the middle of all this, Scott came in again to review Michael, gave us a tentative discharge date of Sunday, introduced his registrar who would be in tomorrow and assured us he would see us on Sunday before we all made the final decision of Michael's release from hospital.
I made enquiries about transferring Alex to the private hospital. There were no beds available so he had to stay where he was. Fortunately, I discovered his ward had earplugs, so he would hopefully have more sleep for his second night as an inpatient.
Then, after six o'clock this evening, I finally met the public cardiology team. Alex had been a patient in the hospital for twenty-three hours. They had finally decided that that Alex's original blood results were not as dramatic as first thought, that his cardiac ultrasound was fine for his perculiar cardiac anatomy and that the supposed inflammation was a mild left over from his previous cold. They were obviously hard working, compassionate and approachable. Alex was free to go. Except, by this time, I was beyond an hour's driving in Friday night traffic, in order to take Alex home. He would be discharged first thing in the morning.
As I recount this saga, I am propped up in my recliner rocker, waiting to watch a favourite programme on the televsion. Michael is perched up on his bed next to me. My feet have almost stopped throbbing, my weariness has reduced to a reasonable level and at least we know what was the matter with Alex. Probably nothing.
So tomorrow, I shall deliver Alex to his home and leave him in peace, with bruises, needle pricks and new pyjamas. He will have a good night's sleep and be none the worse for wear by Sunday morning. Oh, the resilience of the young to recover from any adversity.
And I am so grateful for our private health insurance. Every day, every admission.
The starting point for both Michael and Alex
and private versus public - my subjective view!
Is it time for another letter to our Health Minister?
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