Allergic Reactions, Wavy Walls, Dreams Coming Out Of His Mouth And The Great Escape!

We are relaxing, post dinner, in the noisiest room on Karri Ward. We are right next to the doorway in and out of the ward, meaning every bed, every trolley and every body clatters past our door, at all hours of the day and night. The food has, mostly, been quite acceptable, about from the stone cold stale toast and a hot drink beaker delivered with lukewarm water and a teabag on the side. The airconditioning continues to be too cold over my bed  and non-existent over Michael's bed. Oh, and the toilet seat still has a mind of its own, hurtling past unsuspecting willies mid stream.

The first evening and the following morning post operatively were most promising for Michael's swift recovery. We were visited by physio Barney, who commenced Michael's exercise programme. Just after lunch, Vanessa surprised us with coming in to see Michael. After a delightful half hour, she kissed us both and took off in her golden buzz box.

Whilst Vanessa had been with us, Michael began to show some signs of confusion. He had also developed a rash on his arms, tummy and groin. Later he ran a bit of a temperature and when his catheter was removed, complained of stinging wee. His blood pressure remained stubbornly low and his oxygen saturation levels were also not ideal. Plus, he was nauseated and very drowsy. As the afternoon wore on into evening, he became very anxious. He wasn't sure where he was and struggled to express coherent thoughts. 

An allergy to a medication seemed the most likely culprit for the rash. The anaesthetic appeared to have caused his erratic thought processes. Too much, too long? And the removal of the catheter or a low grade urinary tract infection could have explained the stinging sensation. He was also retaining urine in his bladder - another concern.

Anti nausea medication, a long shower, an anti-histamine, oxygen and a neutralising potion for his wee all helped him recover somewhat by dinner. Barney the physio returned and gently exercised Michael's hip whilst he drifted in and out of sleep.

He began to perk up after dinner but we retired early. I raised the bars on Michael's bed to keep him safe during the night. Towards morning, he became agitated once more, believing there was a rope running down the edge of his bed. We navigated our way to the bathroom for him to have a widdle. The bladder scan afterwards showed he still had half a litre of urine in his bladder. 

Twenty minutes later, another trip to the loo emptied Michael's bladder almost to normal. A relief. We then slept until breakfast arrived on our trays. We talked about the previous evening and night. Michael described his confusion as "dreams coming out of my mouth". He had also observed the room walls waving and thought we were either at home, with the dogs, in a motel or at another hospital!

Before I left to pick up his hired high back chair and toilet seat, he had improved mightily. Vanessa came in once more to be with him whilst I was out. Picking up the goods was painless and quick and then I was off to Shenton Park for a meeting with Alinea (Alex's workplace) to discuss the summary of Alex's testing. The session with Thinley went very well indeed with progress in his tailored support at work and proposed using their occupational therapist Danita for additional needs. I dropped Alex off in the city near his gym and returned to the Mount Hospital.

The afternoon was still glorious. Michael was longing for some fresh air, so I commandeered a wheelchair and took him outside into the warm sun. We walked up Mounts Bay Road to Jacob's Ladder (the 224 step stairway to Kings Park), admiring the enormous fig tree at its base. We practised some 4WD wheelchair antics on our way back, with me bellowing "It's Not Unusual" at the top of my voice. Even though we were only outside for about fifteen minutes, we were both cheered mightily by escaping the confines of the hospital.

Michael's confusion is still present, but lessening. We have talked a lot about where he is and what has happened to him over the last three days. I just need to get him out of the Big Smoke tomorrow. I know that once he is back in familiar surroundings, he will be so much happier and content.  As for me, I need to water the garden and walk the dogs, before I tackle all the housework that should be done!

I also know that after three nights in hospital, we will be heading to the pub for dinner.

Stay tuned for October's exciting adventures. Tally ho!

The Mount Hospital

Mister Ben Kimberley - Michael's surgeon...

How Michael feels about being in hospital...

This general anaesthetic seemed to have caused issues

The new hip has been the least of our problems!

His catheter was also a bit problematic...

So this was one result...

Along with some fairly vivid hallucinations...

Sadly without the presence of Mister Carrot...

However, our walk to Jacob's Ladder was wonderful...

And we always have this as a treat tomorrow night!

  

Welcome Back To Groundhog Day at the Mount...And Telstra.

The day finally arrived. Yesterday, Michael and I travelled from Heavenly Beverley to the Big Smoke for the first of his two hip replacements.  His right hip had become his nemesis over the last few months. Pain had been his constant companion, causing him frustration and misery.

In spite of his limitations, we enjoyed a marvellous two nights with Callum, Bronwyn and Miss Immy. They stayed at the Beverley Caravan Park Cabin 4 , (named Morbinning after a local area) allowing Immy to have her own room for naps and night time.  They spent all Immy's waking hours with us, delighting us with her blossoming personality. Her language has shot up in all directions, making a speech therapy assessment that will finally occur in November (14 months after her referral) probably obsolete.

Callum helped Michael with erecting our new gazebo in our main courtyard, providing much needed shade during the fast approaching summer heat. The lads also visited a nearby farm and loaded a pile of (what a surprise!) rusty metal onto the Trusty Trailer, before returning home and dissecting the items into useful and actual junk. As we left, they were headed for a few nights camping in Toodyay and we turned Lily towards Perth.

Arriving at the Mount at 11 o'clock, as requested, we then sat in the reception lounge... and waited and waited.  Only two staff were handling enquiries, completing admissions, answering the phone and delivering patients to wards. The concierge was no more. Plus, I received the usual blank stare when I reminded them I was boarding with Michael in a shared room. Fortunately, the ward staff were expecting both of us, which was a welcome first.

However, by the time we were finally ushered upstairs to Karri Ward, Michael's surgery was fast approaching. His nurse was rushed off her feet preparing him for theatre. She was still recording his myriad drugs when the orderly came to collect him for pre-op. I shaved him whilst she wrote! I can only conclude that poor communication within the hospital led to this entirely avoidable mayhem.

His Pre-op stay was surprisingly brief and very efficient with cheerful and professional staff. For once, the area was not freezing cold. I kissed Michael as he was wheeled off into theatre. Then I returned to Karri ward to unpack and peruse any positive changes.

Alas, there were none. There was still no blanket warming unit on the ward, no microwave in the patients' pantry and I assume the loo seats have not been fixed so they will continue to drop unless held up. We will find out when Michael's catheter is removed and he attempts to piddle one handed. The shared rooms continue to have one ancient airconditioning duct over only one bed, which means one occupant receives plenty of the centrally controlled air and the other occupant has no air whatsoever...

The rooms are still in need of renovation and the bathroom was not as clean as I would have expected. The bed linen and towels need replacing. The water pressure in the bathroom shower was dismal. The warmed cotton blankets. only available in theatre,  are tatty and holed. The second bed in the room (my bed) was initially high enough for me to almost need a step to climb onto it. I discovered the bed could not be lowered. Two nurses and a technician failed to diagnose the problem, but the technician did lower my bed with a bit of persuasion. As a result, the bed  is now at the same height as my knees and is stuck in that position. 

All this luxury for $1900 a day. 

Just to add to the fun. I chose to visit the Telstra Shop via taxi whilst Michael was in surgery. All that outing gave me was more headaches. Apparently, the Telstra app on my phone is what I should be using to access all Telstra services, rather than through the laptop. Which is great if one has good coverage. I could not access a payment summary in the centre of Perth on my Samsung Blue Tick phone as the signal dropped out. The $1 charge we had received was to set up a new direct debit. And I discovered we have two accounts with Telstra, because they failed to close one when we set up Michael's iPhone earlier this year. Oh, and nobody hasn't any idea where the $126.09 credits we have been "paid" are going. We certainly aren't receiving them! Apparently I need to contact the Bank (!) to work out where the Telstra credits are going. I strongly suspect cyberspace.

The good news is that surgery was successful and thorough care meant he is back in bed 286 at 4.15pm.  The food was more than reasonable and by 9 o'clock, Michael was off to Cloud Cuckoo Land.

So far, the nursing staff have been really fantastic. That has been the highpoint thus far. I hope the rest of our stay continues in this way. On Friday afternoon, I have a meeting scheduled with Alex's workplace to discuss future targeted support for him in the wake of his neuropsychological assessment. Hopefully, come Saturday we will be able to turn Lily eastwards towards home. 

Stay tuned for further adventures!

PS I have just confirmed that the toilet seat still falls down on its own accord!

Vincent Street beautification - the Friday afternoon before "Spring Back to Beverley" the next day!

Head honcho Anthony rallying the troops!

Full speed ahead...

Our family play area and skatepark at night...

Miss Imogen Ivy with Daddy...

Climbing...

Observing...

Down the slide!

Driving...

Checking with Daddy

In the "Teddies Room"

Where have they all gone?

Back from theatre...

X rated hip incision!

Breakfast!

Four And A Half Hours From Telstra!

Who remembers the excruciatingly syrupy song about a weak-willed tosser shafting his love who was home in Tulsa (24 hours drive away) when he met some floozy at a highway stop?  I hope Karma gave him what he deserved!

I was thinking about this useless geezer when I was contemplating ringing Telstra on Tuesday. I had been planning on catching up the endless washing pile and enjoying a spot of gardening. However a "no reply" cryptic email from Telstra at precisely 10.16 that morning had changed my plans, hopefully temporarily.

Apparently our monthly direct debit had failed. I immediately checked the bank accounts, suddenly smitten with dread about the state of our finances. To my puzzlement, there were funds a-plenty, so why the auto payment had been unsuccessful was a mystery. Added to this curious tale was a credit payment that appeared to be unattached to any of our Telstra products.

My next step was to check into "My Telstra". I confidently typed in my username and password, which generated the response that one or the other of these was incorrect. I knew the username was right, so I had a few more stabs at my password. No luck.

So, I sent a request for a link from Telstra to reset my password. No link was forthcoming... on five separate occasions. By now, I was becoming rather frustrated. Then, I decided to ring my anointed Telstra troubleshooter to complain about my current circumstances. Unfortunately, he was on leave until 28 September. As Telstra had stated that non payment of our direct debit would involve nasty consequences, panic began to creep into my fevered brain.

I rang the complaints line. Becoming flustered at the automated choices, I asked to be directed to Technical Assistance due to the repeated link failures to my email. Some bloke that I couldn't understand ended up blaming Gmail on my problems, retreating rapidly from offering any assistance and painting the finger at Google. I knew I was receiving emails from every other Tom, Dick and Harry in the known universe and that somehow the fault had to be at Telstra's end. In desperation, I asked to be put through to Billing to try and solve my other problems.

I was put through to Raydon ("It's like Braydon without the B"), a charming Australian born Cambodian lad, who spoke excellent Australian. He tried to send a link to my email without any success. He couldn't understand why the auto payment had failed, had no clue about the credit and was astounded when Telstra took $1 out of my designated account whilst I was actually talking to him. As I could hear the frazzled confusion rising in his voice, I suggested Raydon ring me back when he'd sorted these issues. 

At 2.45pm, I hung up, mentally exhausted. Raydon has not rung me back. I still can't access "My Telstra". I still can't get a link through Gmail to reset my password. Telstra has still debited our account for $1. However, in a truly extraordinary move, they have credited our account $126.09 and stated we have nothing else to pay this month even though the original debit was supposed to be $156.

I honestly can't be stuffed chasing this disaster for a few days. We have the "Spring Back to Beverley" festival this weekend and Callum, Bron and Immy are arriving on Monday for two nights with us. Wednesday is Michael's hip replacement surgery day and on Friday, I am meeting with Alex's workplace co-ordinators to discuss the implications of his neuropsychological test results. Plus, I want to meet with Shannon, Alex's NDIS Support Coordinator and make an appointment to see Mark Flynn and gain Alex's full report if possible. 

Do I sound like I have enough on my plate? You bet your sweet bippy I do!

The usual state of affairs in my world...

How Tuesday progressed...

How I reacted...

What I tried...

What Telstra offered...

What I have on my plate...

My response to their lack of assistance.

Homeward Bound

We left the Bunya Mountains and headed south east in Toowoomba's direction. As far as I could remember, I had never been to the "Garden City" in spite of living on and off in Queensland for over ten years. Here was our chance to explore the Darling Downs en route to Brisbane.

Toowoomba is high - nearly 700 metres above sea level in a basin on the side of an extinct volcano. The surroundings enjoy the benefits of all that volcanic soil, along with a temperate climate. Actually, the morning we left Toowoomba was a tad cooler than temperate. We were encased in cloud until we descended from the mountain onto the fertile farming locales away from the mountains.

Toowoomba is a city, with traffic lights and traffic snarls. Although I have often cursed Google Maps due to my Luddite tendencies, I was grateful for the technology as we navigated our way into bigger and bigger population centres.

Our Airbnb in Newtown was on a busy road, causing quite a few heart-in-mouth moments as we attempted to reverse Romeo into gaps in the traffic. I spent our first afternoon navigating my way to a nearby laundromat, in order to lessen the amount of dirty clothes we would otherwise add to our luggage. I had not been in a laundromat since Adam was a boy and the experience was different from entering the laundromats of old. Gone was the dark and dingy interiors with the ever present odour de sweaty body associated with earlier times.

We ate at a local Thai restaurant the first evening and had Indian delivered the second. The Thai restaurant had been recommended by our host. Unfortunately the premises was cold and drafty and my duck curry was disappointing (the Julia Creek pub provided the best duck curry I have ever tasted!). The Indian takeaway was reasonable but we have since been asked to pay again...Scam? Not sure. Will wait and see.

What was absolutely fabulous were the Makers Markets at the Mill Precinct, followed by a wonderful afternoon at the Spotted Cow pub. As we approached the end of our journey, we wanted to rush less and chill more.

I bought a bath bomb from 13 year old market veteran Lexie, earrings from Kobo Magnolia (Mai), Hunny. T Design (Hanneke), Thea and Chief (Hannah), windchimes by Artistic Creations (Debra), whilst Michael was wooed by a marvellous Indian head and shoulder massage by Aroma Magick (Jenny). After some very satisfactory retail and body therapy, we adjourned to the Spotted Cow pub for a late lunch which turned into an exceedingly lazy afternoon.

The Spotted Cow has held a liquor license since 1892. Beautifully refurbished, we lingered longer than originally intended. My prawn and chorizo linguini was beautiful and Michael declared his burger was scrumptious. We gravitated between watching the Rugby League (much to our surprise) and the AFL on different tellies. We had no desire to move on. I think that's an issue as we age - we prefer not to be in a hurry anymore.

We returned to our digs to repack as best as possible. Sporting two jammed suitcases and two stuffed carry-on bags along with a few additional shopping bags (!), we needed another suitcase. After an action packed drive to our hotel at Brisbane Airport (low bridges on back roads eventually defeated us and forced us onto the hair-raising motorway), we returned Romeo with an affectionate farewell, before adjourning to a huge nearby warehouse called DFO on a hunt for another bag. I survived the labyrinth, finding Strandbags and purchasing another suitcase, before having our cheerful taxi driver Sunil drop us back at the hotel. 

After an early dinner, I embarked on repacking all the bags. Again. We fell into bed, only to be rudely awakened at 5 o'clock (!) in order to get to the airport on time.

Flying home was exceeding trying. This marathon over fourteen hours involved lugging enormous bags in and out of airports, taking belts and shoes off, paying for excess baggage, losing my debit card (which turned up later at the bottom of a bag), having to collect and re-check in our bags at Sydney airport and walking for kilometres around Brisbane, Sydney and Perth airports...The only upshot was the three glasses of wine I consumed after leaving Sydney, which resulted in a lovely afternoon snooze. This action gave me the energy to drive home when Michael's stamina had fallen.

All was forgotten as we welcomed two dogs, one cat, a mad bird and one exhausted housesitter. Paula had performed above and beyond the call of duty. The day before we came home, she had discovered our beloved black cat Suey deceased in our wardrobe. She was understandably distraught and followed our wishes to place Suey's body in the freezer at the Gallery. She was an absolute Godsend and we will be forever grateful we had such a wonderfully loving person to look after our domain whilst we were away.

As for me, I am never, ever flying again.

Going down from the Bunyas...

At the Oakey Bakery -

Afternoon delight in Toowoomba!

Makers' Markets stall holders - Lexie...

Mai...

Henneke...

Debra...

And Hannah...

At the Spotted Cow - 

Passing the Toowoomba Heritage Precinct...

Another hair raising drive -

Back on the Flatlands!

Seems about right.