I arrived here on Monday. Felt pretty crappy due to the kennel cough and general weakness. I knew the day would be as assessment day by the doctors and the physios so was prepared for a few tests, lots of questions etc. I lost count of the number of doctors who slunk around my bed taking blood, and pouring over my charts. By the next day, I felt exhausted and had more bruises than I knew what to do with.
Tim had to go to Melbourne on bizz, left Monday till Wednesday. I felt rather alone because of the doctors’ being so intent on finding something else wrong with me.
The last straw was Tuesday night. The nurse manager came to say there was a particular test they wanted done as they thought my heart had done something strange. She told how she had a row with a doctor from ED who was supposed to do the test but abused her instead, saying he was too busy. The test was taken and it didn’t hurt too much. About an hour later, a huge hulk from Zimbabwe arrived saying he would take blood for this test. I told him it had been done already. He grabbed my hand roughly which hurt because of his gloves, and shoved a needle into the back of my hand near the thumb. By God it hurt! I told him to take it out but he pushed on the needle even more. By this time I was crying in agony. Finally he was done and a nurse had arrived to make sure I was ok. He didn’t seem to know what to do with the blood so the nurse did it for him. He was so rude, and I told him never to come back in my room again.He came to my door yesterday but TJ my protective Afrikaans nurse was here in no time, to see him off. TJ did the same to Tim last night as he had not seen him before. It’s nice to know there are people watching out for me.
Yesterday was more peaceful as the doctors stayed away from me. The paramedics took me to St Stephen’s Private Hospital for scans….results yet to come. The heat outside and the sunshine was wonderful to feel after freezing in the air cond of this room. It’s ridiculously cold.
Last night the doctors insisted I have oxygen. I slept well, but this morning my nose was sore and bleeding so I took it out. Executive decisions I have been making lately.
All these terrible stories and accusations against Rolf Harris really have my head reeling. The brother of my first husband was a neighbour of Rolf’s parents in Bassendean. We visited one day because the BIL wanted ex to help do something for old Mr Harris. Mrs Harris was a sweet little lady who made an elaborate tea for us… best china, scones that melted in your mouth, and Fanta for the kids. While chatting in her cosy kitchen which looked out to the Swan River, there was a commotion at their front door. Rolf and his brother had arrived along with Rolf’s daughter who was probably about 15 at the time. She was very aloof and ignored everyone. Not once did I feel my daughter was in any danger, nor my son. He was polite and pleasant to us all. I don’t doubt the charges, I just find them to be mind blowing!
As I remember him. Perhaps he was still a decent man till later?
Until next blog, take care, be kind and keep smiling.