Easing Emergency

This is a terrific innovation, aimed at reducing pressure on our hospital emergency departments, and our emergency ambulances. 

Unfortunately some people try to abuse our ambulance and hospital emergency departments by wanting emergency transport to a hospital emergency department for quite trivial matters. Yes, they are triaged over the phone, but some know phrases that will trigger an emergency response.

They clog up emergency departments. If emergency departments are overwhelmed, ambulance staff must look after patients until they can be admitted to emergency. This leads to an ambulance shortage. Clearly those who have say a heart attack or stroke, are straight in with the best care modern medicine can provide. 

That was my experience when I had heart issues, and twice I was taken by ambulance to The Alfred Hospital emergency with atrial fibrillation, that is my heart was racing at over 200 bpm and would not stop. Doctors stopped my heart on both occasions and restarted it. After the second time, a chemist picked up a conflict with one medication I was taking, and my heart medication. Minor surgery called ablation and refinement of my drugs, and I've been fine for about four years. I am checked annually by my cardiologist. While he works in the public system, as his private patient, I think the cost is worth while. He is now an Associate Professor, and still quite young. 

I've drifted off topic. 

So we have a new addition to our medical system called Medicare Urgent Care Clinics, where many health issues can quickly be treated. I think this is a terrific initiative. Let's face it. Nurses can do much of what doctors can do and the clinics do have doctors too. 

I planned to write this post a little time ago, but there is an urgency now. Kosov was bitten by a dog as he crossed a road today, as I write this Thursday evening. Kosov punched the dog's head, and it retreated. The owner said, 'Sorry'. While Pitt Bull Terriers are banned here, it was a similar dog. I hate the owners of such dogs more than I dislike the dogs. 

Phyllis and I have nagged him that he needs a tetanus shot after the dog bite. He has never had a tetanus shot before, so this is a good opportunity. The dog bite did pierce his skin.

So Friday morning we will be at the aforesaid clinic at 9am, one hour after it opens. I'll let Kosov explain to the clinic but if there is any kind of issue, I will be there for him. I will do the talking. There are no restrictions of who can visit the clinic. If you are in need, you are eligible. It is the same for our public hospitals. No questions are asked for emergency care. Ongoing care might be a problem for those without an Australian Medicare card, but really if you are in need, our system will care for you as if you are local citizen. 

I experienced a walk in clinic in England and while the wait was quite long, I received the best of care. Ray's family receive very good health care in England too.  But apparently according to blogger Rachel, I am quite unqualified to comment on the English medical care system, so take no notice of me. (Yeah, I was hurt, and I don't understand why)

This won't be published until after the clinic visit.

The next day, Friday. 

Well, as usual I knew exactly knew where I was going to the clinic, but no. It had already moved, into within the Alfred Hospital. Staff directed us to Emergency. I said to staff, it is not an emergency, but that was where we had to go. A brief explanation to more staff, and we were told to take a seat. A chap soon arrived with the logo Heliport Ground Staff on the back of his jacket. I suppose if there isn't an incoming chopper, he can do escort duties. 

We were taken through a labyrinth of old hospital corridors to the clinic, which was actually at the front of the hospital, looking out to the ambulance parking. There were five people there waiting. Kosov was given a consent form to sign and a medical questionnaire was sent to his phone to fill in. Once Kosov had filled everything in on his phone and signed the form, we returned to the desk to hand in the paperwork. By this time it was after 10am. I said to staff that Kosov had a job interview at 12 and it would take him an hour to get there, a slight exaggeration, and so staff checked with the doctor for urgency of care, but of course he wasn't urgent. I'm glad I asked.

Staff said come back later in the day. You will still be in the system. I returned home as I was meeting neighbour HH for brunch at 11, and they set off to catch the Punt Road bus to change to a bus to Doncaster. 

As I am attempting to complete this post at 7pm, they are at the clinic, and have been sent to pharmacy to buy the serum. 

I really expected there would be a doctor and nurse on duty. The nurse would have quickly given Kosov the jab and all over in half an hour, but no. Like the normal emergency department, you just wait.

At least they have learnt of a back entrance to the clinic where you don't have to be escorted. 

Now, I really wish I had sent him to my medical practice and I would have paid, although he does have some kind of overseas student appropriate health insurance, but I don't know what that covers.     

Why wasn't I told!

I know a little about a lot. That suits my shallow mind and persona. I lack commitment to anything and I've never acquired great knowledge about anything specific.  What is this nonsense word Phyllis and Kosov are saying. Something like seeing a keyring that cost $20 and has a cappy burrow hanging off it? There is a big language problem, on my part because I did not know the name of the world's largest rodent, the capybara.

Now I do know about the capybara, as Phyllis showed me some YouTube clips, and I found my own clips, and how cool are capybaras. This photo gives you an idea of their size.

I am sure most of you know about capybaras and wonder what this blog post is about. Well, I simply didn't know about them. 

They adore being in water.

The Brazilian natives seem like they might make a good house pet, albeit a bit of a weighty one.

It seems most Australian zoos have capybaras.

A quick explainer.

 

And this appeared on the bench yesterday. It's squishy.

Rich ****ers don't give two hoots

I recently read about a Melbourne Irish pub closing to be redeveloped, as a new Irish pub. A snip from a news report about the closing pub, "showcasing traditional music, poetry, dance and food and sponsoring a Gaelic football team". I don't get why the successful pub has to close, with the leaser kicked out and it being reinvented. Well, I do know. It is about money. 

I am reminded of the visit to my doctor last Friday, with my hopes of him being able to ensure I didn't expire from sepsis in mind. I had a spare ten minutes and went into Prahran Market to buy some notepads from the shop where we have bought notepads for over 25 years. 

I thought about my return home and Phyllis asking why I bought such cheap and dull notepaper, so I lashed out an extra 50 cents and bought bright white notepaper pads. I had forgotten Phyllis had put some brightly coloured notepads in my stationary drawer. He reminded me after I proudly displayed my new bright white notepads, seeking his non forthcoming approval. Oh well.

I was reminded of our city hairdresser closing, when the building owner increased her rent to an impossible amount, and she tearfully told Ray she was closing. A new hairdressing shop opened there and lasted a few months, perhaps a six month lease. 

The aforementioned stationery and paper shop in Prahran market has been operated by the same Australian Asian couple for 39 years, as she told me. The market has decided to not renew their lease. Just like that, their business has been taken away, with no goodwill to sell. It will become a food place, she told me. Gosh, I felt sad for her, and sad for our wider society that business avarice dominates our society. Of course Prahran Market has to be a profitable enterprise, beholden to the local council who owns the site and the building. Perhaps City of Stonnington could be a bit more interventionist to ensure the market is not just about food. 

Signed,

an ageing man who is becoming increasingly grumpy about what happens in our society. 

Wake me up Maggie

The UK, Europe and Australia have magpies. I don't know about the rest of the world. 

However the Australian magpie is very different to the northern hemisphere magpies. The northern hemisphere magpie is a member of the corvid family, that's crows. The Aussie magpie is a member of the artamidae family. 

Here is the Eurasian magpie, from Birds of the World.

And the Australian magpie.

I can see why early white folk in Australia would have called our bird a magpie, but they really are quite different to the Euro magpie. 

Wherever you are in the country, and often enough in the city, as dawn breaks you will hear the call of magpies, a delightful warbling sound as they greet each other at the dawn of day. 

This clip is by Peter Virag.

They can become quite tame by feeding them, although it is illegal to feed native birds and animals. It is not a law that's enforced. However, come the time of year in the spring when the magpies have babies, look out. The male will swoop any animal that he perceives as a threat, and you are an animal. This is not a vague frighten you away swoop. He will make contact with your scalp or face, and you will bleed, with the worst case, eye damage. 

Here is a photo of a cyclist wearing magpie protection. 

To summarise, we love our Australian magpies, in spite of the brief period of the year when the males will swoop, and there is no connection to the European magpie. 

I should have stayed home x 2

Yesterday, which was Sunday as I type on Monday, Kosov had a job interview in the suburb of Tullamarine. It would take about one and a half hours to get there by public transport, with a bit of a walk too. I did not think this would be sustainable, should he have gotten the casual job. However, he needs a job, and it would be experience for him.

As I had nothing planned for the final day of cars screaming around a race track, I offered to drive him, and Phyllis came along.

It was raining as I drove along the freeway, but we found the place in Sharps Road easily enough, which was actually within a service station. 

It was a waste of time. The interviewer had changed the job to full time, which students can't work, and possible 5am starts and 1pm finishes. I didn't say anything but it was a total waste of my time, petrol and toll road costs. We decided to visit the Airport West shopping centre for some food. 

At the food court they went one way and I went the other, and I bought some very ordinary pork thingies with some rice, found a table and ate it on my own. I kept scanning the area for them but they weren't there. They had gone off to a shop, apparently. I tried to call them but within the shopping centre, the signal was poor. Phyllis called and said they would join me in five minutes which they did and they hadn't even bought food. They bought some extremely spicy chicken and I was annoyed that I would have to sit there while they ate. I wanted to go home. They asked if I wanted to stay or should they take the food home. Of course I said, take it home. Once home, one bite of chicken had my eyes watering. I've just remembered the name, Nene Chicken Shop. 

It is hard to be annoyed with them. Once in the car and ready to drive home, Phyllis told me to close my eyes, and I did while he unwrapped something. OMG, I love it. You may remember I have metal geckos on my bedroom wall.

 

Monday always annoys me as it is the day my food is delivered at the inconvenient time between noon and 1when I am normally out at that time. I work around it and I needed milk, soda water, and soft drink for visitors, the weight which would add up to six kilos, plus whatever else I needed, so I took the car. I drove to Port Melbourne, but the normal road was closed, so I had to divert and it took so much longer, but I had the spare time. 

I bought some of what I wanted, but where was the potato salad and coleslaw. I couldn't find it, so I gave up. As I was checking out what I bought, some scrag was kicking off. She wanted half a dozen eggs but there weren't any half dozen boxes. She was insisting staff cut a box in half for her, which they can't do. She was going on and on and really harassing the staff. I took what I bought to the car and returned through the supermarket walkway. The woman was still going off, demanding one staff member's name. I stopped and said the woman, Do you know how absurd your behaviour is? 

I hate it when innocent staff have to deal with people like her. I took her photo, and she said, don't you fucking well do that. Well, I did, and I was in a seriously bad mood by then. I broke my rule about not attacking people who you think are less powerful than you, provoked by her dreadful and ongoing attack against staff over half a dozen eggs. 

There is normally a guard on duty at the supermarket, but maybe they were on a lunch break. I went outside and called police, and they said they would attend. 

After I finished my call, an entitled and privileged jerk pulled up in his Mercedes and stopped in a bus stop where buses are reasonably frequent and busy. He parked there for maybe seven minutes. I knew he wouldn't be long, and I melodramatically had my phone pointed at his car as he came out and roared off towards the city from Bay Street. I reported him using Snap, Send, Solve, and shortly after, the matter was solved. He won't be prosecuted by me just sending a photo, but he may be noted.

I normally like visiting Bay Street, Port Melbourne. It is a friendly area, where shop keepers remember you, and you have some good interactions with them. People are very accepting of difference, and with some public housing nearby, tolerant of those with mental health issues. It just wasn't the right day to be there. 

A better day tomorrow, I hope.   

Monday Mural

I enlarged this photo to study it. It clearly became apparent to me that I could understand nothing.  That is an old and now scrapped Melbourne train exiting a tunnel, with the then The Met symbol above it. It appears the train has reached its terminus, with a buffer on the rail in front of the train. There is a Little Chief with Big Horn type American native person. 

Sunday Selections

This week's photos are generally from June last year. River and others join in Sunday Selections.

It is interesting to see Asian lasses dress up like this. I am an old man and I no longer know about young people's things. Four lasses out to parade themselves along Chapel Street, except the lass on the right is not a lass. 

This is a wonderful building, now apartments. It was also the site of the tragic Russell Street bombing, with Australia's first death of a  policewoman while on duty.

 

Just down the street is this quite attractive modern apartment building. I am astonished that it was built and it not being a high rise tower.

These went to the charity shop, or in our lingo, the op shop.

A card for Ray for a significant birthday from the Brother Friends, maybe his 60th or even 70th. All the glitter and words were added by them. 

Jay was a client of Ray's when Ray was a volunteer driver. He uses a wheelchair and is very openly gay, with rainbow flags on his chair, and other trinkets. I see him at times and Ray used to always say hello to him. Emboldened, I introduced myself to him, telling him that Ray was my partner and that he was no longer. Jay was shocked, and said, I often wondered if Ray was gay. Jay wasn't very observant as I was always with Ray when they chatted, but I was never introduced. 

Miniature Lego has made an appearance at the Highrise. I picked up the spider the wrong way to wipe down the bench top, and two legs fell off. It's been repaired. I suggested that they should not bother, as it still had six, four more than us, and we manage with two, and some with one or none. 

 

The train keeps getting longer as more carriages are added. I told Phyllis it needs a power car to run the roof top air conditioning units. The last one seems to have two pantographs, to connect it to electric overhead wires.