I've been sitting here trying to think what to say. I've got nothing.
Showing posts with label Things to remember.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Things to remember.. Show all posts
Tuesday, 10 February 2009
Stay and defend or leave early.
I've been sitting here trying to think what to say. I've got nothing.
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
Thursday, 4 December 2008
www.AnimalsAustralia.org
I picked up this pamphlet after signing a petition at my local gym. It says,
"A decision by the Australian government to end live export will save millions of animals from suffering and importantly, will send a clear message to the Middle East that animal welfare matters."
Friday, 28 December 2007
Thursday, 6 December 2007
Keep on fighting - till the end.
I've been dithering for the past few days about whether to post anything about World AIDS Day, 1st December. I seem to have posted a lot of reminiscences. Any more might be tedious for my reader. (G'day, Mavis). Nevertheless, what are blogs for, if not for whatever comes to mind.
The statistics say there have been about 26 000 HIV infections diagnosed in Oz to the end of 2006, just over 10 000 cases of AIDS and around 6000 deaths. The number of diagnoses of AIDS peaked in 1994. Since then, the incidence of AIDS has declined and the duration of survival after an AIDS defining illness has increased from a mean of 13 months to over 30 months.
For a lot of the time, in the years 1992 to 1995, my regular and after-hours roster at a Brisbane teaching hospital included work in the infectious diseases ward as a resident then registrar. So, even though AIDS had no immediate impact in my personal life, it was there day to day, as part of the work.
I remember there was a vague but constant worry about where it would all end up. Ten years on from the start of the pandemic there were good diagnostic tests and clean blood bank supplies. Public education was in full swing. Even so, what would happen if HIV spread to the general community?
It may be a false perception but it seemed to me the disease effected itself in a cyclical fashion with small cohorts of men being diagnosed with AIDS about the same time, being admitted about the same time as they deteriorated and dying about the same time. Then it would start all over.
My bosses were working incredibly hard to keep up with the HIV research. They had journals and journals of the stuff to read every week. Their efforts to get funding for involvement in the international drug trials and particular medications for individual patients were unbelievable.
Mostly though, I remember sensing the tragedy of it and at the same time, seeing the strength of the human spirit brought to bare. It seemed a particular cruelty that these previously fit, handsome (even beautiful you could say) men became so thin and gaunt.
There was a young man whose partner was in his last hours. The man came up to me at the nurses' station where I was sitting writing something. He said he had to go home and could I check that we had his phone number and call him when it was over. I asked him if there was anything I could do or anyone I could call to organise something so he could stay. He said he wanted to stay but he felt it would be distressing for his partner's parents, who were about to arrive, if he did stay.
What courage it must have taken to say goodbye and leave that bedside. I'll never forget him walking out of the ward with his partner's jacket over his arm.
Anyway, that's just my little bit.
The statistics say there have been about 26 000 HIV infections diagnosed in Oz to the end of 2006, just over 10 000 cases of AIDS and around 6000 deaths. The number of diagnoses of AIDS peaked in 1994. Since then, the incidence of AIDS has declined and the duration of survival after an AIDS defining illness has increased from a mean of 13 months to over 30 months.
For a lot of the time, in the years 1992 to 1995, my regular and after-hours roster at a Brisbane teaching hospital included work in the infectious diseases ward as a resident then registrar. So, even though AIDS had no immediate impact in my personal life, it was there day to day, as part of the work.
I remember there was a vague but constant worry about where it would all end up. Ten years on from the start of the pandemic there were good diagnostic tests and clean blood bank supplies. Public education was in full swing. Even so, what would happen if HIV spread to the general community?
It may be a false perception but it seemed to me the disease effected itself in a cyclical fashion with small cohorts of men being diagnosed with AIDS about the same time, being admitted about the same time as they deteriorated and dying about the same time. Then it would start all over.
My bosses were working incredibly hard to keep up with the HIV research. They had journals and journals of the stuff to read every week. Their efforts to get funding for involvement in the international drug trials and particular medications for individual patients were unbelievable.
Mostly though, I remember sensing the tragedy of it and at the same time, seeing the strength of the human spirit brought to bare. It seemed a particular cruelty that these previously fit, handsome (even beautiful you could say) men became so thin and gaunt.
There was a young man whose partner was in his last hours. The man came up to me at the nurses' station where I was sitting writing something. He said he had to go home and could I check that we had his phone number and call him when it was over. I asked him if there was anything I could do or anyone I could call to organise something so he could stay. He said he wanted to stay but he felt it would be distressing for his partner's parents, who were about to arrive, if he did stay.
What courage it must have taken to say goodbye and leave that bedside. I'll never forget him walking out of the ward with his partner's jacket over his arm.
Anyway, that's just my little bit.
Friday, 6 July 2007
Dr Maarouf-Hassan
Last year, Dr Maarouf-Hassan was stabbed to death in her surgery by one of her patients. This year, in the February 5th edition of the Australian Medical Association Journal, "Australian Medicine", a tribute was published. Its author was Associate Professor Leanne Rowe, a rural GP and Deputy Chancellor at Monash University.
In her essay, Professor Rowe spoke of Dr Maarouf-Hassan's life.
"She was born in Syria and graduated from medicine in 1978. While completing her training as an ophthalmologist, she also developed a passion for mathematics, Arabic literature and politics. Khulod emigrated from Syria to Australia in 1986 with her husband. Before they could become registered in their respective professions in Australia, the couple worked very long hours for many years in their Hastings bar milk ..."
"When her three young daughters were settled at school in 1999, Khulod excelled in the Australian medical entry exam. She chose the GP training program because she wanted to carry on the proud tradition of her family in Syria, by making a difference to disadvantaged people in Australia.
Khulod was passionate about assisting refugees in her practice. On the weekend before her death, she picked buckets of olives in the rain to bottle for the refugee food bank. On the night before her death, Khulod contributed to a professional development event for doctors on refugee health..."
Professor Rowe also quoted the eulogy given by Dr Maarouf-Hassan's 21 year old daughter.
"My mum had no disguises. She opened her heart fully to everyone. She shared her love and compassion unconditionally with everyone. I have always thought of my mum not as a person, but as a place. She radiated an oasis of calm, tranquility and love and warmth. A place where anything could be healed with a kiss. Any disaster could be solved with a smile. Any sadness could be banished with a laugh."
Remember.
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