Local Health

 

Roger Harris

3/13-15 Wybalena Crescent

Toormina,

NSW 2452

Phone: 0405 055 088

Email: rogerch@tpg.com.a

29^th July, 2024

Complaint

I called in at the Hospital Reception to collect the apparently official complaint form. However that was clearly already post marked for “Under the Carpet,” right alongside my yet to be complied with, Freedom of Information Request. So here is my complaint in Roger Harris Format.

Complaint Against Coffs

 

 Harbour Base Hospital.

To Everyone it Does Concern:

On the 27^th June 2024, I had an accident in Minorie Drive Toormina. Suffering amongst other injuries a compound fracture of my right arm. I was taken by Ambulance to Coffs Harbor Hospital. Police File Number: E 81989665

The Ambulance crew were fantastic. All the medical staff in Emergency were also fantastic. I was heavily sedated, but still aware of the exemplary care and professionalism. Time constraints meant I was not operated on until the following day. I feel blessed that the surgeon was Dr Aleks Jovanovic. Whilst still in a cast, the surgery, and repair appear to be first class. I was placed in the ward, top floor.

Friday night was painful, but the nursing staff were attentive, competent, and caring. So far, first class care. Saturday was restful. I was aware that I was hallucinating, but able to recognise what I was experiencing was not real.

Around midnight Saturday I was informed I was to be moved to another ward. I have had experience of this previously, and resisted. Against better judgement, I agreed to be moved to another room within the same ward.

This was with the patient from HELL! Intent on telling world of his ailments and how he knew best. Alarmingly this conversation, loud conversation, was taking place between himself and 2 nursing staff. Not trying to quell or quiet him, but joining in with the “My experience is worse than yours”. Contest.

It’s 2 o’clock in the morning! The 2 nurses were as loud as he was. No consideration for others. It’s 2 o’clock in the morning. It just went on and on. The was no medical basis for the discussion. Absolutely zero consideration for others. Ultimately I took my pillow and went to sleep in a small room with couch. I was informed by a nurse I could not sleep there. I therefore left the ward in search of somewhere I could get some sleep. Remember I’m still hallucinating and sedated.

The only place I could find was the bench on the ground floor outside the glass fronted office. I was peacefully there until a security guard, polite and understanding, told me he could not allow me to sleep there. He took me back upstairs and allowed me to sleep in the lounge room adjacent to Intensive Care. He also went back into my ward to inform the nurses of where I was. Some time later, early hours of Sunday morning, a nurse came to tell me the patient from Hell had finally fallen asleep. I did return and got at least some sleep.

Sunday morning a doctor from Dr Jovanovic’s team came around, cut the cast off to inspect the surgery. Professed himself happy, and I could be discharged. Clearly the prospect of getting out of that hellhole was appealing. But. Having cut the cast off, (Sunday Morning) It is announced that there is no one in the entire hospital who can re-cast the arm. The nurse did her best to reattach and wrap the original cast. At about the same time I am informed that if I want to arrange home help I will have to stay in the hospital until Monday.

I never did get to the bottom of that, it’s late morning by now, I have had little sleep. Still on pain killing medication, having difficulty in understanding how I’m being discharged, without the cast done properly, or how to get any home help. And still no discharge papers. At this point I’d had it, I was either going to get the hell out of the hospital, or end up in the mental care unit. To the nurse that then approached me to sign a waver that I was discharging myself against medical advice, remembering I had already been discharged. I will apologise for using the F word, but she would have been well aware my humour by this time.

Now we come to my return to Emergency Department on the following Tuesday.

Brought about by the sheer pain my arm flopping around in an ill-fitting cast. Here I would like to praise Jomy Kutiakose, polite, caring, professional. She organised an xray, redressed the incisions, and made a new fitting cast. As well as arranging home care. She kept me informed throughout, and was a delight to have care for me.

Your hospital is a disaster area. It operates like a series of re-enactments of Custer’s Last Stand. One hundred and ninety-four Million Dollars. Fewer beds, short of staff, and longer waiting lists. Heads need to roll.

The last 3 occasions I have been in your hospital there have been attempts to move me. If I were paranoid I could believe it’s deliberate, as payback for earlier complaints. But I’m not paranoid, I just believe your hospital administration, and that of the entire Mid North Coast Local Health District is dysfunctional.

Saddest of all, the standard of nursing which I have always praised in the past has been brought down to the level of the administration.

As I lay on the footpath in Minorie Drive, knowing the ambulance would be taking me to Coffs Harbour, I pondered, “What will go wrong this time?”

Roger Harris

Roger Harris

Not forgetting my yet to be complied with, Freedom of Information Request.

The Cordless Conspiracy

 

Remember that great advance in technology, and home DIY?

That’s right, the cordless drill. No more extension leads. No more scratching your head because you wanted to do something to a power outlet, but couldn’t use a power drill because you had to cut the power. Now all you had to do was remember to put the new cordless one on charge the night before you wanted to use it.

Not perhaps a giant leap for mankind, but a major step forward for the dedicated do it yourselfer. For at least nine months,, before the battery went flat. Now there were two types. The built in battery, or the removable battery. It didn’t really matter. Because even if you could get a replacement battery it was likely to cost at least 90% of a whole new drill!

Solution, buy a new drill. This one promises to be better anyway. Or that’s what it said on the box. OK, you might get a whole twelve months out of this one! It was on my third, I decided to fight back. I was going to build my own battery pack. Roger’s revolution.

With the advent of the internet it wasn’t difficult to track down the rechargeable battery cells required. Size, voltage, amperage. Then the stainless steel tags to solder them all together in series. A slight hiccup, I had to buy a proper soldering station, rather than the toy one I already had. Cost however was not part of the equation. This was war.

All soldered together. With a bit of fettling with a rotary file I even manage to get them to fit into the original pack. A winner. Not quite, the original charger almost burnt itself out, with little effect on charging the new monstrous battery pack. Nothing for it, but to make up some adapter cables so I could use the car battery charger. That’ll do it.

And it did. I had finally achieved the objective. A new battery pack for the old drill!

The only draw back was having the strength to hold onto it. I’d turned a domestic drill into a lethal weapon. You had to spread your feet and brace yourself for fear of it snapping your wrists.

Soon a job came up. I had trouble with the turbo on the Esprit. Turbos run hot, very hot. And you kinda know before starting, every stud fastening it, is going to break. I was lucky, only seven of the eight broke. Leaving seven studs to drill out. All from lying underneath the car. Of course the drill jammed. I was unable to hang onto it. So it spun round and hit me in the head. Sending me off to the optometrist to get my glasses repaired.

I did however complete the job. Thankful for having a drill powerful enough to Complete it. The war against the feeble flat drill battery was finally won. The victory was however, fleeting. It was so powerful it distorted the whole drill casing, to the point the gears failed to mesh and it destroyed itself. Sending me off to buy another new drill.

MICROSOFT

 

A helicopter was flying around above Seattle yesterday when an
electrical malfunction disabled all of the aircraft's electronic
navigation and communication equipment. Due to the clouds and haze
the pilot could not determine his position or course to steer to the
airport. The pilot saw a tall building, flew toward it, circled, drew
a handwritten sign and held it in the helicopter's window. The sign
said "WHERE AM I ?" in large letters.

People in the tall building quickly responded to the aircraft, drew a
large sign and held it in a building window. Their sign said, "YOU
ARE IN A HELICOPTER." The pilot smiled, waved, looked at his map and
determine the course to steer to SEATAC (Seattle/Tacoma) airport and
landed safely.

After they were on the ground, the co-pilot asked the pilot how the
"YOU ARE IN A HELICOPTER" sign helped determine their position. The
pilot responded, "I knew that had to be the MICROSOFT building
because they gave me a technically correct but completely useless
answer."

The Waste Wasted Land. T's arris

 

 

 

 

Ever read T S Eliot's The Waste Land? Course you have, it's mandatory reading, for all would be literary students. Have you ever understood it ? I've long maintained the theory that it is thus called, because Eliot was wasted when he wrote it. There's an entire website devoted to trying to understand the Wasteland, it was written in 1922, that's that’s almost 100 years. For god's sake give it up. There are two types of people in this world, one's like me who have no idea what Eliot was on about, and those who lie about it. I have it on good authority that Eliot later became a script writer for Abbott and Costello, and penned the line from Who's on First, “I don't even know what I’m talking about”. If you find someone who claims to understand the Wastland, find out what they're on. I want some.

I had a book of poetry when I was a kid, there was one that went, “I wandered lonely as a cloud”, what was he on? Lonely as a cloud,,, news flash Mr Wordsworth, that's up to a 20,000 foot drop, it's going to hurt even if it was into “a host of golden daffodils”, daffodils my arse, I reckon they wuz poppies myself.

We do know that it was a different cloud to the one Mick Jagger was on, or he would have been told to “Get Off” now Mick could probably have stayed up there with what he was on, and just to prove it Keith Richards is still up there. Sadly Keith actually passed away in the seventies, but was, and remains so “Stoned” that he hasn't realised it yet.

What about Shakespeare, a literary terrorist if ever there was one. Best line he ever came up with “Let's kill all the lawyers” (we should have taken him up on that one). Do they stick him in jail for inciting violence, do they hell, no they make some kinda literary god out of him. So now he can continue to terrorise school kids and students for hundreds of years to come, and still continues to this day! Much Ado About Nothing? Spare me the bleedin' obvious.

Kabul ?

 

The first of the evacuees were running up the ramp when I heard the hiss of the Katyushas, followed a second later by an explosion as the first of the rockets detonated on a far runway.

It was clear to the evacuees that this would be the last plane out of the airport. What was left of the armed forces was evacuating itself with whatever aircraft was serviceable. I was running as fast as I could, my lungs in a knot. When I set foot onto the ramp, I paused to let Linh and Duc pass by. When they did not appear. I turned and saw they were no longer behind me. A mass of tormented humanity faded into the dusty distance. Even though I was escaping, I shared the torment.

No that’s not an account of Kabul in 2021. It’s Saigon in 1975. We’ve learned a lot in 46 years!

Get Vaccinated

 

Get Vaccinated! Well that’s what they tell us. Get vaccinated.

I’m a responsible and hopefully informed citizen So I used the Health Service on-line booking form. Way back in May, could have been even earlier.

Now, I have cardiovascular disease. I have had a vascular bypass. And am on medication for life, to prevent blood clots. Naturally, with the blood clotting issues with the AstraZeneca, I mention this on the form. With about 2 weeks to go, before the first appointment, I get a phone call. I doubt the guy had accessed any of my medical notes, from the questions he was asking. But, I’m not entitled to the Phizer. So he canceled my appointment.

At the time, there didn’t appear to be a great urgency, so I sat back and waited to discuss it with my GP. Then it all starts up again. So inevitably, you put your personal reservations to the back and decide to go ahead with whichever vaccine. It’s not just you, but those around you.

Back into the Health Service on-line booking form. Low and behold. I’m locked out. All my details are there, but I can’t access any of it. Make a phone call. The first time I was on hold for 40 minutes before a gave up. The second time, it actually warned the wait was over an hour! Back to the Health Service on-line booking form. Still locked out.

I’ve now made an appointment with my local GP. I made for just after I see the Cardiologist and the vascular surgeon. I’ve neither consider the AstraZeneca an issue, I’ll go ahead.

So here’s the bottom line. Get vaccinated! We don’t have enough vaccine, but get vaccinated anyway! Oh by the way.

What age group are you?

What state do you live in?

Do you live in a regional area?

Are you eligible?

So get Vaccinated!

Hanging

 

Hanging? What does it mean? In the wild west it was the hangman’s noose.

Or it could be to hang up your coat. Or to hang a picture. Hanging plants. The list goes on. But.

In Urban Slang however, it means: to wait or stay near a place, not doing very much.

Which is the very essence of this picture. The common seagull. Nothing exotic here. They’re universal. Any port, any beach, anywhere close to water. Try enjoying some fish and chips. In 30 seconds flat, you’ve got a reenactment of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. Port Talbot, South Wales, to Coffs Harbour New South Wales. They’re insects with feathers.

But take a look at this guy. He defines the urban slag of “Hanging”. He’s just grey and white, against a sky blue backdrop. Yet it’s magical. He is literally hanging in the sky. The wings are still. Not flapping. He is relying solely on the wind speed alone to keep him aloft. The elevation changes a little with the wind gusts, but he could almost be asleep. There is no motion. Just stillness in the air.

Majestic, relaxed, laid back. Just waiting for a chip. “So laid back, he’s almost comatose.” No mortgage, no social security. All he needs is your chip.

Supermarkets

 Supermarkets

A convenience?

The only place I can get the cordial I like (no sugar) and I mean no sugar, is Coles.

The only place I can get the toilet cleaner I like is Woolworth's. And now they’ve stopped stocking it, so I no reason to go back. (Still looking)

The only place I can get the stir fry sauce I like is IGA.

The only place I can get the bread I like is Aldi. Oh and Aldi’s fresh food is actually fresh.

Come on guys. Every time you send me to a competitor, you risk me not coming back. I hate shopping at the best of times. Gi me a break!

Lewis Hamilton

 Lewis Hamilton

There are nineteen other Formula 1 drivers, asking themselves. “just how the hell do I beat Lewis Hamilton.” None of them have yet found the answer. He now holds the record of 93 wins. But that’s not what makes him great. It’s what he does when it doesn’t all go his way. Jensen Button, himself a World Champion, and Lewis’s team mate at Mclaren. Said when Lewis left to join Mercedes and partner Nico Rosberg. “Nico had better watch out, Lewis can get speed out of a bad car.”

Take the British Grand Prix a few years back. Lewis as expected takes pole position in qualifying. But no one expected the time. It was a scintillating new record. No one was going to beat it, he knew it and was getting out of the car. Suddenly his time disappeared of the screens. Disallowed for exceeding track limits. Hamilton gets back in the car. By this time has can just about make it to the start finish line before qualifying ends. I remember thinking, I hope he can at least still get pole. With only one single opportunity, he produced the identical lap. Taking pole. Mere mortals like us cannot do that, it’s just not possible. Unless you’re Lewis Hamilton.

Monaco. Poor qualifying, a circuit it is next to impossible to pass on. The race starts wet, Hamilton is about sixth, going nowhere. The track starts to dry, everyone heads for the pits to change from wet to intermediate tyres. Except Hamilton who now has a long lead, but the wrong tyres. Somehow he alone managed to keep life in his his tyres. When the track dried further he went straight onto slicks. Having now only stopped once. Whilst everyone else had stopped twice. He won the race easily.

Imola, recently. Again not on pole. Messed the start and runs third. A narrow track with few passing opportunities. The leaders stop for fresh tyres. Hamilton, no longer held up starts putting in blistering laps. He tries to open up enough of a lead to be able to, in turn stop for tyres and still come out in the lead. Remember he is still on his original tyres. He starts to do it. But back-markers loom, these will take time to pass. The team ask him. Can you get another 10 laps out of those tyres. This will enable him to pass the back-markers and continue to stretch his lead to give him time for the stop.

Fate lends a hand. A safety car is called, slowing the field. Hamilton dives for the pits. Emerges with new tyres and a healthy lead. Lucky? Yes, but winners often make their own luck. They place themselves in a position to take advantage of any luck that comes their way. If he hadn’t eeked out those extra laps from his original tyres he would have finished third.

That’s why he is now entering the realm of the truly greats. Even when it’s not going his way, he still finds a way to win.

An Unhealthy Bureaucracy

To the uninitiated. This is a “Patient Care Board.” There is one adjacent to every hospital bed in NSW. In 2017-2018, there were 61,647 hospital beds in Australia. How many of those are in NSW is hard to tell. After lengthy research I found a very concise report: 

https://www1.health.nsw.gov.au/pds/ActivePDSDocuments/PD2012_054.pdf

It’s a 20 page report, called: Bed Numbers Data Collection. It tells you what constitutes a hospital bed. How the report was compiled. Everything. Except how many hospital beds there are in NSW!

Which brings me back to our “Patient Care Board.” In all my too numerous trips to hospital, in the last few years. I have never seen one write on. Let’s do some maths. A figure plucked from the air, let's put a price of $5 each and one-third of the beds for NSW. That is $100,000. Then we need to mount each one. $100,000 + for something that has never been written on.

This is what I love about bureaucracy, why did someone not ask the nurses why they didn’t write on the whiteboard that already existed?

In the meantime we cannot get competent surgeons. Hospitals cleaned or maintained.

Internet Service Provider ?

 

Or:

I nternet

S ervice

P eril

What can possibly go wrong, right? Wrong.

Once you get past the inept political posturing. Fibre to Node. Wireless. Fibre to the premises. And what now you’re trying to work from home, and your kids are home too. Trying to study online. And what! Now you expect it work!

You crazy!

Well that's infrastructure taken care of. (laughed out loud)

Now lets get down to ISPs. These are the service providers who bring it all to your door. They rent band width off NBN Co, and bill the customer, you. It’s simple isn’t it. Laughed out load again. The first thing to remember, in all this. “We give higher speed, blah, blah. It’s all coming through the same network, it’s all the same cable. It belongs to NBN Co, not your ISP.

Now, I decided I need a bigger data allowance, unlimited. My current ISP won’t come to the party on cost. So I make the decision to change. “Oh that will cost you $150.00 in termination fee!” I’ve been with them more than a year. Long story short I contact the Telecommunications Ombudsman. Late Friday afternoon. I get an almost instant response. He contacts my ISP. All of a sudden there is no contract. I can terminate any time I like, 24 hours notice, no termination fee. Sorted in under an hour. What tells me the Ombudsman had heard that one before!

So now I’ free to find the ISP of my choice. Not hard, a known name, good price, unlimited data. But no. This guy wants me to formally, in writing, wave my rights to the Customer Service Guarantee! Under consumer law. It is actually hard to imagine how this would ever impact a retired pensioner. But! How about the arrogance of a company who thinks it should not be bound by the consumer laws of the country in which it operates. No thank you, keep looking.

Here’s another one. Good price. I highly recommend you do some research on any of these ISPs before signing up. “Never got connected, can’t get my money back.” Stay away from that one. I recommend using.    https://www.productreview.com.au

There’s some sad stuff out there. And there in lies the problem. ISPs have way too much power. There’s too much money in providing communication these days. We’ve moved on since 1872, Australia’s first telegraph line. It’s a different world. No one with wires and crimpers is coming out to change your line over. Some innocuous, faceless clerk at a keyboard will hit a few keys, and your bill will pass from one ISP to another. And then another arsehole can wreak havoc with your credit card, screw up your email address, and keep you awake at night. Wondering if in the morning you might have a connection, your phone will be live once more. Will you be able to watch the next Grand Prix. Keep up with the news.

ISPs are a bunch of lying thieving rat bags who have way too much influence over government and unwarranted access to your money. Trust no one!