(V) Long Day’s Journey - Part one

I settled in for the long haul.  Coming to grips with the landscape was part of surviving the labyrinth - its spatial eccentricities; the frequently obtuse utility of support services and the sanctuary of surrounding oases – coffee shops and restaurants.  In the beginning, I struggled with directions; fell into ‘in-house’ watering holes out of desperation; avoided the nearby street-scape that was noisy, crowded and uninviting.  

 Dispersed behind large hospital buildings I discovered vacant areas that serve as paid parking lots.  It felt like a dystopian wasteland, bound on the edges by huge buildings awaiting demolition.  Dark and forbidding, these remnant gargantuan entities became redundant over time - probably riven with asbestos and the detritus of superseded technology – and now stand guard around this veritable no-man’s land.  Vacant building lots behind massive hoarding boards projected utopian images of a new ‘lifehouse’ – a promised land of innovative caring opportunities.*  I wished the so-called life-house was available right then.  I later discovered it would be a cancer care facility.

 A multi-storey car park straddled one of the remnant spaces from a bygone era.  It was restricted to staff and a select few visitors lucky enough to obtain a pass.  Early on, I was advised by a helpful social worker that as an out-of-town visitor living a sufficient distance from Sydney I was eligible for a parking pass.   

A form was duly completed and submitted to an office occupied by one person – the ‘gatekeeper’ of parking.  She obligingly took my form, advised there were no passes available and suggested I ring back later in the day to check.  I followed this instruction and rang back several times over several days.  Each time I was given the same response and told to ring back.  Eventually I arrived at the office again to remonstrate with the gatekeeper.  I received another explanation of the system in time worn ‘bureaucratize’.  It dawned on me that I had taken directions from an addled caterpillar; waylaid in a Kafkaesque loop designed to entrap.  A massive lottery win was more likely than gaining a parking pass.  

I mention this as the daily grind of parking beggared belief.  The neighbouring streets operate under a fearsome parking meter regime, while the paid parking lots extracted a daily toll, which was manageable, or a prohibitive hourly rate.  The catch was if you did not arrive early enough to avoid a shift changeover you missed out, as the staff car park was wholly inadequate (yes, the one accessed by the mythical pass).  The labyrinth had revealed one of its frustrating gauntlets that most inhabitants run daily.  It felt like the mythical pilgrim’s hump – self-mortification by motorcar.

I kept asking myself  why a major public teaching hospital was in such disrepair.  At every turn, I found evidence of under-spending, poor facilities’ management, lack of maintenance and broken infrastructure. Public toilets were shoddy.  Outside the ICU, the only ceramic urinal in the only male toilet was broken, leaving one cubicle for all the anxious men in the vicinity.  This situation persisted throughout.  On the high dependency neurological wards, away from the ICU, I found similar conditions.  I had seen better kept facilities in developing country hospitals. 

On the surface the ICU facilities appeared excellent, although housed in old building stock.  However, annual budgets clearly only go so far; certain areas of maintenance just fall off the ledger.  I expect ICUs and surgery theatres, radiography, pathology and other specialist units take priority, once you allow for a salary bill for the high priced medical corps and less highly paid nursing cadres. 

It was concerning to see apparent neglect of key services and infrastructure, such as adequate and affordable parking.  The wards had insufficient beds, such that care protocols appeared to be relaxed to manage more patients.  It is passing strange that an affluent country re-elects politicians who peddle policies that lead to hospital neglect.

To be continued.....

---

*              The Life Centre construction is now well advanced.  At the time of writing the complex utility underpinnings of cutting edge technology were viewable from the street in a maze of pipes and wiring conduits running in all directions.