I woke early this morning, and set out with determination to the Opera House, hoping for a beautiful sunrise.
Though the moment didn’t last long (only a few minutes), I wasn’t disappointed in any way, shape or form, with the spectacular colours in the sky.
We’re in the midst of Chinese New Year in Sydney. Last night, Damo and I went for a walk through the Dickson Street Markets, which are always fun. I have to say, though, there’s some real crap on offer, and I still don’t understand why “Spam” – the processed canned meat – has a stall of its own. On the positive, however, the markets are great fun, especially in the daytime with lion dancing and fire-crackers going off all around.
Damo and I also enjoyed a really wonderful meal at the House of Guangzhou. Accompanied by a bottle of Shaw & Smith Sauvignon Blanc, we enjoyed a tasty well-presented meal of a number of favourites, including BBQ Pork, Chicken, and San Choy Bow. Of particular note were the vegetarian spring rolls which were moist and tasty, in stark contrast to those which you often find in Chinatown which are tasteless and deep-fried beyond recognition.
While visiting Tibet, Kate bought this lovely little keep-sake for me. Apparently it contains lots of lovely written things by the Dalai Lama’s monks. But since it’s so beautifully wrapped, I haven’t unwrapped it, and I’ve been keeping it in my wallet over the last few months.
With fine weather forecast, I’ll also probably pop down to the markets tomorrow ahead of Mardi Gras Fair Day.
It’s lunchtime Sunday and I’m feeling a bit hungry. Yes I know I should eat, but I have lots to say about what was a reasonably interesting and busy week in my life.
I spent the week travelling to Adelaide and Perth for work reasons, although of course there was a persona element to the Perth trip as well.
There’s not a lot to report about the trip to Adelaide, aside from the fact that I nearly froze to death and briefly watched the bingo competition at one of the local pubs, the Edinburgh Castle.
In fact, I’d say the most interesting thing, other than work, about the trip was the flight between there and Perth when I read a book by John Shelby Spong called Sins Of Scripture. The essential argument of the book is that throughout history various bible texts have been used selectively to condemn homosexuality, keep women “in their place”, deliver war and encourage environmental unsustainability, amongst many other things. Yes, while the rest of the plane was reading the Da Vinci Code, I was reading another book which seeks to provide an alternative reading of the Christian story… although, of course, a lot of Christians would argue both are works of fiction.
Going back to Perth after such a long break was really terrific. It was great to catch up with all of the people I’ve worked with and in some ways to achieve some “closure” about my time there. In the back of my mind over the last few months there has been a slight doubt that maybe I should have gone for the job there on a permanent basis. But going there has clarified in my mind that Sydney is the place for me, both personally and professionally.
My only regret, two days later, is that I met a really nice bloke there on Friday night who I wish I’d met twelve months earlier. An ABBA fan, of course, a similar age, and with other common interests, we got on like a house on fire. One of life’s many ironies.
On the trip back I read Graeme Blundell’s biography of Graham Kennedy for a long time. Although there are some personal reminiscences from the likes of Noelene Brown this is very much a “public account” of Graham Kennedy’s life. And for that reason I found it a little disappointing. I wasn’t looking for a “Kitty Kelley” tell all book about his personal relationships, but I guess I was looking for a more explicit book about Graham Kennedy the person.
And then last night, Damien and I went to the closing night film of the Sydney Film Festival, called Howl’s Castle, a Japanese animation film which I enjoyed immensely. Although the film has been released in America with voices dubbed by the likes of Christian Bale and Lauren Bacall, we watched the original Japanese dialogue with English subtitles. Odd, eh?
In the midst of an otherwise shitty day there was a bright spot. We received the certificate declaring a radio program I was the executive producer of as a finalist in the New York Radio Awards.
In radio terms, the NY Radio Awards are a bit like the Academy Awards or the Emmys. And although the program wasn’t the eventual winner in our category, I was really pleased and excited that we made the finals.
As I’ve implied work is quite busy right now. I’m going on holidays in a few days time, I’m trying to get a lot done before I go. Hence, I’m juggling about ten balls in the air at the moment. All of this means I’m probably trying to squeeze too much into my working day, and probably not getting the balance right.
As a rather famous radio person from New York is often quoted as saying… “It’s not brain surgery, nobody dies” (I sure hope she hasn’t been misquoted). I should remember that, shouldn’t I?
From work, I wandered off to Swedish class. And even though I was feeling a bit sick, and hadn’t done all of my homework (I’d read to page 47, not to page 51 of our text), it was a fun class.
Tonight we spoke with a “real live guest Swede” called Viktor who told us about his long-distance relationship and his favourite tastes in Swedish music which, of course, included ABBA and Kent.
After class, I headed off to the pub, as is my usual want for a Wednesday.
It’s Friday night and I’ve just been out for dinner with Damien. We had good fun talking about a range of subjects and the meal – Massaman Lamb Curry and Pad Thai Chicken – was excellent! It’s been a reasonably busy week. Tuesday night, as per usual was television night, with “The Bill”, followed by “Rove”. Rove seems obsessed with the nation thinking he’s gay. He made another reference to it the other night. I, for one, don’t care about Rove’s sexuality. However, he remains as cute as button.
On Wednesday, I went to the Lewisham Hotel with Graeme, Ian and John. Since the last time I went the place has quietened considerably. It seems the hotel is trying to attract a new market, but in doing so has alienated much of its existing market. Still, the beers were cheap, the grilled octopus was excellent, and the conversation is fantastic. We managed to cover every conceivable topic and some inconceivable topics.
And then last night I went with Colin to “The Man From Snowy River Arena Spectacular”. According to the events promoters, “The Man From Snowy River Arena Spectacular is a musical, a rock concert, a rodeo, an equestrian extravaganza and arena show like no other, at the scale and grandeur of its inspiration, the Sydney 2000 Olympic Games Opening Ceremony.” It was all of that and more.
In some respects it was a spectacular piece of theatre and doing what theatre always should: it takes lots of risks. But in other respects it’s very safe. While the first half is quite moving, especially a lovely scene, where the horse is “broken”, the second half is spectacle without substance. Looking around the audience, many of the people for whom it may be intended to appeal looked bored. Unfortunately, it was also unnecesarilly American – poor Georgie Parker thought she was in Oklahoma for most of the night; at times it was a pastiche of every American movie western possible, complete with the word “cowboy” and banjos, which, to the best of my knowledge are not part of the Australian bush legend. The show aims to be what “The Boy From Oz” was: the great Australian musical that can be sold to the world. In its execution, however, it was jingoistic and evidence the “cultural cringe” remains with us. If the show stuck with the horse theme, and left out the dancing kids, it could be a great Australian musical, but at the moment, the negative aspects probably outweight the positive. And that is my personal view…
Next week, I’m off to Brisbane, the Gold Coast and Lismore… and the week after, it’s Adelaide. I hope to have lots of interesting stories and photographs to post.
In contrast to my own fortunate circumstances of having enjoyed a steady stream of face-to-face visitors, online interactions, and outside visits, many of the people here at the hospital/rehabilitation centre lead rather solitary lives.
For example, there’s one man with whom I’ve shared a room, who has only had one visitor during the entire eight weeks he’s been in rehabilitation. At 80 years old, he lives alone in what seems to be a single room. He usually relies on meals from a soup kitchen run by a local church. When asked if he can prepare meals himself, he revealed he has both a microwave and a fridge, but neither of them works at the moment. In addition to this, he’s battling a serious cancer. Fortunately, the hospital staff are aware of his situation and are doing their best to assist him, as he greatly wishes to return to “the way things were”.
Another man of a similar age expressed a similar sentiment. Struggling to move around even within the hospital, he kept talking about his plans to “return to his apartment to watch TV all day, with meals brought to him by my ex-wife”. His ex-wife had been a frequent visitor, occasionally joined by his son. As I’ve chatted to people, it sounds like the the scenario “ex wife still taking care of the ex husband” is not uncommon. He was also fiercely independent, often declining pain relief and assistance to use the bathroom until both became absolutely necessary. When he finally did have a “pooh” after four days, the smell was unbearable.
I’m uncertain whether they voice these sentiments due to awareness that others can hear them, a desire not to appear “weak”, or perhaps a lack of realization regarding the challenges they now confront. Then again, they might understand their own circumstances better than I do. Maybe they’ll find a way back to normalcy. Making assumptions and judgments about others’ lives can be misleading.
For me, it’s been nearly ten weeks since I arrived at the hospital. Accustomed to brief hospital stays or day surgeries, a stay of this length was hard for me to fathom before now. And then last week I learned that one older man who I’d become friendly with was leaving hospital (perhaps prematurely) after five months.
While I’m not exactly counting down the days, I’m eagerly anticipating my return home. They’re planning to cast my leg for the prosthetic limb on Thursday, and if all goes well, I should be home in two or three weeks.
One thing I’m certain of is that life won’t simply revert to the “normal life” that many of my roommates have spoken about.
Today, when I asked for a raincheck on my physiotherapy session, I felt like the physiotherapist might have thought I was being lazy. Looking back, I realize I should have explained my situation better.
Earlier in the day, my blood sugar level dropped alarmingly low, and I was still recovering from the impact it had on me. For a little while I was genuinely scared of slipping into a deeper, more serious medical problem.
Upon my admission to the hospital three weeks ago, my blood sugar level had skyrocketed to an extraordinarily high level of 70. Even the nurses, including my niece who is a nurse herself, were surprised, as it is usually supposed to be between 5 to 10. However, today’s sugar level plummeted to 2.2, which is dangerously low.
As a result, I experienced light-headedness, dimmed vision, and an unusual combination of feeling both hot and cold.
The nursing team promptly responded by offering me a plate full of sugar products to bring my blood sugar level back to a more normal range. Fairly quickly it was 2.9, then 3.5 and tonight it was 13.5, which is higher than normal. In any other circumstances this would cause concern, but the staff were happy it had recovered from the low levels.
They inquired about my breakfast (which I had eaten), but we couldn’t determine why my levels had fallen so significantly, other than the fact that “with new diabetics, it sometimes takes a while to settle down.”
Among the adjustments I’ll need to make upon returning home, it’s managing diabetes that is causing me the greatest apprehension right now, even more than dealing with the amputation. As you might know from my previous posts, I have a deep love for food and wine.
I’ll need to regularly check my sugar levels, use insulin, and adapt to a new lifestyle. Over the next few weeks, I plan to research how I can live with diabetes and still enjoy adventurous foods, and of course discuss this with the hospital’s dieticians.
Today, we were informed that we need to remain in COVID isolation until Monday, which means no visitors over the weekend, and that saddens me. It’s tough enough not being able to leave the room, but I can’t help but admire the staff who have to wear full PPE every time they enter our rooms.
On a positive note, the hospital staff rearranged the beds, and now I have a window view of “The Wall” on Darlinghurst Road. During lunchtime, I sat by the window, observing the passersby. They also opened the window which allowed for some fresh (city) air to come in.
PS. I’m aware that some of my upcoming posts may revolve around hospital life, amputation recovery, and diabetes, which might seem a bit repetitive. However, I hope these posts will be helpful to individuals who might be going through similar experiences.
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Stunning. I hope Nate appreciated it.
Gorgeous photos James!
It’s lovely to use waking up early productively – rather than dicking about on the InformationSuperhighway as I tend to do.
Those colours are stunning!