Wednesday – Discovered without even realizing it

Isn't it funny, don't you think? Everyone has a few little things that get under their skin, and I am the same. There are a couple things that really get me revved up. While I am actually writing this, I thought that I would list a couple things that seem to worm under my skin instantly, but I can't seem to think of any right away.

The lack of motivation was in evidence again when I woke up. I'm going to call it the "Coming up to a holiday, and a lot of days off malaise". I'm not sure it will catch on – maybe it's called being lazy. Anyway there are a couple things that I did need to do sometime today, so I thought "Now is as good a time as any to get out of my fleapit!"

After a couple of gallons of coffee to get my engine started, I looked at the list of things to do. There was nothing to it, but start – in the time honoured fashion – at the beginning. Washing washed and drying – dishes in the dishwasher – floors swept and mopped – bedding changed. That took about 1 hour, and it was actually quite necessary. There is someone from the estate agents coming around tomorrow for a 2 month house inspection.

When Analiese, Daisy and Jane get here, Jane and I decided that we would try and make Daisy's room as homely as possible. That will involve buying some of her favourite bedding. I thought that I would head out and get what was required. This involved another of my less than favourite tasks. I'm not a normal person, I've decided, and going to the mall isn't my idea of fun.

Anyway – I did reluctantly go, and once I got there, I was sidetracked into a coffee shop, and I sat there for about 30 minutes – watching the world go by, before heading into a couple department stores to get the bedding. It wasn't completely successful, but I got some of what I wanted. "I know – I'll go to everyone's favourite – IKEA." Again – after steeling myself in the IKEA Cafe for a while, I went looking for the bedding department.

As I walked in, I was reminded why I dislike shopping really – the IKEA sale was on – and it looked like every Brit in Perth had come to look as what was on offer. Anyway – in the bedding department – some of the items were discounted and looked like everything had been well and truly picked over. I found what I was looking for – so I thought – and headed to the check out.

Getting home I've realised that I'd bought the wrong size quilt covers. That leads me to something I didn't realise gets on my nerves, but now know it is super frustrating. That is when after doing some browsing, items aren't put back into the right place. Why do people not put things back where the picked the items up from. I'm going to have to brave the store once more tomorrow to swap the items.

So in my list of things that gets under my skin immediately, the words "IKEA Sale" and not putting things back where they belong are up there on now!

Tuesday – Nothing to Report but another Perfect Day

I know that the heading Nothing to Report has been getting increasingly more common. Is that because I am doing less, and meeting less people, or is it that I'm not seeing the funny side of the little encounters anymore? I don't know.

I finished my second night shift on Monday night/early Tuesday morning, and instead of going to Golden Bay, I drove back to my apartment. I did stop on the way, but that was to buy some essentials to snack on. (The Lite N Easy deliveries have had to be stopped for a while, as I'm on my way back to the UK soon, and also the delivery date is while I'm away in Mandurah). Because there aren't any pre-packed snacks left at home, I've just gone into the supermarket, and bought whatever I fancied.

Although I had gotten a small amount of sleep during the night shift, I still didn't feel like doing much, so I just munched my way through the snacks, while watching a couple films, and the highlights of the EURO 2008 football that I had recorded. To me it was the perfect day.

I did have a lot of other things planned, but never got around to them. I'll definitely have to try and find some motivation soon. I wonder if they sell it in a shop anywhere around here!

Monday – A novel way to get a job

For those of you who don't know how as an ambulance we receive what we are supposed to do next, I'll give you a little, quick run-through. I'll take you through step by step; then you'll be amazed that an ambulance shows up at the front door of the address ever.

While sitting at home one day, you drop a coffee cup – you've actually aren't at your house, you've popped around to my house for coffee (knowing that I was in deed of a drinking friend) – and the mug hits the floor, and breaks. While helping me clean up, you slip up and end up on the floor, with some apparent reason to need to attend hospital. This is when you make an emergency call.

If you are in the USA you could try and call 911. In Britain you might try 999, or if you are somewhere that you don't know the number to ring, and you've got a mobile phone you could try 112. And here in Australia, you can ring 000. All of those numbers will get the same response. After an initial consultation with the operator, you'll be transferred to the ambulance call centre.

You'll be asked a few important questions like what is the address that you need the ambulance, and what is wrong. This is where the magic is done. Some jiggery pokery and electronic gismos show the person sending out the ambulance where the most appropriate vehicle is, and sends it to pick you up.

If at the time, the ambulance is on an ambulance station, then – in Sussex and here in Western Australia – the dispatcher sends a signal on the radio which rudely disturbs the peace, and off we go to see what help we can give. (Don't ask me how I was able to be having coffee with you and the waiting at the ambulance station for the next call – it's only an example.)

Anyway – here at Mandurah ambulance station there is a problem with the radio and the radio repair man is off sick and can't fix the problem until next week, so we get the call to the job on a telephone. That's the way that it's supposed to work anyway.

Last night while relaxing late in the night, the other ambulance crew got a job, and trundled off. They came back a little while later, and got tucked up back in their beds. I stayed snoozing in the chair. About 5 in the morning there was a very loud banging on the door. Thinking that someone was in trouble and didn't remember any of the numbers used to contact help any normal way.

It wasn't someone looking for help, it was the police. As it turns out, the phone was never put back properly, and when ambulance control was trying to ring, the phone was giving a busy signal. Someone in ambulance control called police control, and they sent one of their police cars around to rouse us. It's the first time I've ever been called to a job by word of mouth. Boy did I feel about 2 inches tall.

Sunday – Sally Remembered

Sunday is known as the day of rest. That is pretty much how today went. I was going to be on nights again in the evening, and as it was the end of the weekend, I was anticipating a reasonably busy night, as I thought I had better get as much sleep as possible.

It was so pleasant to sleep in my own bed again, with the knowledge that I didn't have to get up early, and didn't need to do anything until about 4 in the afternoon, when I was going to take my life in my own hands again, and head down south for my 2 night shifts.

Anyway, after waking at 6 (again, I guess that there won't be a lie in), I thought I might as well get up early, and head to the early church service, instead of waiting until the usual 10:30 service. If you remember this is how I ended up being introduced to Sally the Landlady.

Anyway, after church, the pastor – who recognised me – asked about how I was going at the house of Sally. I didn't fill him in on the whole crazy situation, but said that I'd gotten my own place because Jane, Daisy, and Annaliese are coming out to join me soon.

After that, it was home until I needed to go to work. Nothing really to report.

Saturday – Reflecting on the Past

It was a weekend in December, 1998 (a while ago, I know but bear with me). Ice was on the pavement, and there was a hint of snow in the air. In fact Christmas time was only around the corner. Jane and I were nicely ensconced in our little house in Hove, huddling together to keep warm. Our central heating had packed up, and we didn't have any heaters to warm us up. It was a weekend, and we couldn't get our British Gas engineer out until Monday, so we resigned ourselves to freezing in the house. Eventually we resorted to chopping up our dining room furniture, and burning it in the fireplace to keep warm. We felt a little like some squatters dressed in big coats, and burning furniture to keep warm.

Winter is here with a vengeance. When I say winter I'm probably not accurately creating a picture for all of you. When it isn't raining there isn't a cloud in the sky. With so little cloud cover (I could explain the reasons there aren't many clouds in southern West Australia – it's all to do with humidity, and elevation of the land, and prevailing winds – but I don't think I'll bore you any more than normal) when it isn't raining, and the sun isn't shining – some people know that as night time, the temperature plummets to 4 or 5 degrees.

During the day, with the sun shining it is positively warm – rivalling the temperature in Brighton recently, but the nights are not pleasant if you don't have anything warm to wear, or any heating in the house. In the apartment in Scarborough there is a very clever function on the air conditioner that blows hot air when it is necessary. I can stay as warm as I like there.

As you imagine, the beach house in Golden Bay isn't full of many mod-cons (well, actually there are no mod-cons). There is a TV, and that's about it, but is that a mod-con now a days? One of the conveniences that is missing was any sort of gas or electric heater. It's been alright up until now, but Friday night it was very cold.

I trundled back to Golden Bay last night after work, and, after stopping at "The Lucky Catch" for Fish and Chips, I bowled up at the beach house clutching my supper and bags. After eating my Snapper, I sat there shivering, looking at a cast iron pot bell stove in the lounge area. I thought, I'll bite the bullet as I hadn't seen any wood anywhere, but then I remembered I hadn't looked in the garage under the house. After fighting through the jungle, and eventually getting the lock to work (it hadn't been opened in a long time).

Amazingly, in the garage was a large pile of timber, so I loaded up a couple of armfuls of the wood, and stumbled back into the house. Luckily it was quite dry and lit really easily, as there wasn't any sort of firelighter. I checked out the wood I was throwing in the top of the fire, and it was old chairs, and tables. That took me back to the winter in Hove. I hope that they were actually supposed to be burned, and not being stored for any other reason.

Friday – No one likes being woken up early

After the last few days of doing overtime on nights (albeit very quiet nights), I had to do my own set of four shifts today. It involves two day shifts, and then two night shifts, all in Mandurah. Because of the 1 hour drive each way – when there isn't any traffic – I'm going to stay in the H of H in Golden Bay for the night.

Anyway work wasn't particularly taxing, although most of the calls were "Priority One" – or in need of immediate ambulance treatment, or immediately life threatening (and also any road accident/crash – called an MVA here (very E.R.) even if no one is injured). If the call isn't a Priority One then we don't attend the incident with lights and sirens. It is a lot more sensible if you take into account the lack of local driving skills, although a lot of what the ambulance service's dispatch centre thinks is immediately life threatening, from the information given to them, is a lot different than reality.

As with a lot of other things in the ambulance service here, St. Johns don't subscribe to internationally held ideas about the way that emergency calls are taken, and they use their own system for answering calls, and not any recognised system. I was thinking of offering to help out in the control room on overtime, a little like I was doing in Sussex, but I know I'll get very frustrated with the ad hoc type systems they use.

Anyway – I think I mentioned the other day about the lack of skill in the hospital. Today there was another example of it. We were called to the local court house. There was someone there who had, in the early hours of the morning, had a little tussle with the police and was arrested. Because of the injuries he sustained in the arrest he was taken for a check over at the hospital, and given the all clear about 4 in the morning.

We saw him at the court house, as he had become unconscious after complaining about a severe headache, and had started bleeding from out of one ear. Anyway, we took him around to the hospital again, and then trundled off to get another old nana for their routine hospital appointment. A couple hours later, we arrived at the hospital to see that the guy was still at the hospital. I inquired about why he was still at the hospital (knowing that his symptoms gave me a high suspicion that he had a serious injury). You can imagine how sheepish the hospital must feel now they found that the guy had a skull fracture.

I did have to bite my tongue or I would have said something about how they must be impressed with the previous evenings night shifts thoroughness, and not wanting to wake up the x-ray operator at 3 in the morning (I'm not sure that was the actual reason that they didn't x-ray – let's hope not). No one thinks twice about waking me up at 3 in the morning – although sometimes I wish they would.

Thursday – No Longer the New Boy

Sampson was very proud of his hair, which gave him his unusually immense strength. I'm hoping that I'm not another Sampson type character, as after 5 months (the last time I got my hair cut was just before I went skiing in February), I finally bit the bullet, and got my flowing locks cut.

Jane did reckon that I was more like a Mr. Comb-over rather than any bronzed Mediterranean Adonis. I had to agree that maybe a trim would be in order, so, after driving home from my night shift (another night spent in the easy-chair "watching football" – what will I do when the tournament is finished) I stopped in the local Scarborough barber shop to bid farewell to my scary hair.

Chatting – in a way that only a barber can do – Justin (my new best friend – so he thinks) told me about how he'd just moved to Scarborough, and was really happy with work. He didn't sound local (who does), and so I asked him where he had just moved from. He was ever so pleased I had asked and then proceeded to extol the virtues of Manchester, and how he'd only arrived 3 to 4 weeks earlier, and was living with his girlfriend, and how he was enjoying it.

I did say that I had only arrived this year also, and mentioned about the pub nearby me, and he said he would look out for me, if he's in there the same time as me, as he doesn't know many people. Fortunately he finished butting y hair in about 10 minutes, as he was running out of things to say – isn't it always the same at a haircut, after about 10 to 15 minutes, you can't wait to get out of there. I hope that when he doesn't have scissors in his hand, he has some other conversation.

Hopefully my super strength, and charm hasn't been sapped with the loss of my auburn locks, and also hopefully I'll not run into Justin in the Indian Ocean Hotel. I'm sure I heard his entire repertoire of jokes, and funnies. At least I've finally met someone who arrived in Perth since I've arrived. That's good.

Wednesday – Am I really like the Indian-Pacific

As I said, my overtime hiatus only lasted about 1 week, before I was back into it. As I had said that I would do Wednesday night, I thought I might as well get my money's worth, and do Tuesday night as well, as it was offered to me. And I enjoy working nights – who wouldn't enjoy being paid for sleeping.

I had been offered a volunteer's spot on Tuesday night, because (and can you blame them) no one wanted to give up their evening/night for nothing. I was teamed up with another paramedic, but she was a very enthusiastic paramedic, who was a pleasure to work with, as she conferred/talked to me about what she was thinking. I guess that is what being a team is all about.

We had got back to base about midnight, after a couple of jobs, and decided it was time to inspect the eyelids, for leaks. Our rest area (each ambulance crew has a designated rest area) was a lot like my room at college with only a small divider to separate the two rest areas, each with an easy chair, and a cot. We both were tired, and climbed into our cots, and it wasn't before I, snuggled up under my duvet, was in the land of nod.

We got about 2 hours sleep before we had to get up, and rush off to the next job. Lisa mentioned that she hadn't really been able to sleep when I asked her if she'd got any rest for the last two hours. Those of you who have worked nights with me would know what her complaint is I'm sure. She said that after about 10 seconds I sounded like the Indian-Pacific on its 36 hour journey from Perth to Sydney (it's a train).

After the job, we hurried back to base and I said that I was going to watch the Euro 2008 football – being shown live on TV. In reality I was trying to be thoughtful (unusually) and was going to sleep in the easy chair in the mess area, so that Lisa could get some much needed sleep.

I did get some sleep, but not a lot, and so after finishing work, I went back to Golden Bay, and it wasn't long before the Indian Pacific was working its way across the continent again, this time not being interrupted by sick people, and I only moved when it was time to head back into work, and earn more money. At least I could sleep without keeping anyone awake!

Tuesday – I wasn’t going to do any more overtime!

I explained last week about the long game that I was playing. It involved working at Mandurah depot, which is listed as a country depot. Part of the appeal of working at a country depot is that because it is supposed to be out of the city (although in reality Mandurah is just another Perth suburb – another example of Aussie logic which I don't think I'll ever learn), and as such, there are a lot of penalties (a penalty is the Aussie way of saying allowances, and it is a positive thing, not a negative thing – you can see how I'm easily confused) attached to working here. Anyway the penalties amount to about $800 a week, so I had said that I wasn't going to do all the overtime that I had been doing.

Tuesday was involved with more visa admin. Yes it is a never ending process. The latest stage I got to is that I need to prove to the government that my qualification as a UK paramedic has got an equivalency here in Australia. (If it doesn't what have I been doing for the last 6 months – actually the official Australian title I'm applying for is a very grandiose sounding Intensive Care Paramedic) It involves getting a piece of paper from some government department in Melbourne (yes, like every other step in the visa process it costs a packet).

I had sent off copies of my certificates and other documents that were requested about 2 months ago. That wasn't sufficient, (and there was some problem with a couple of the documents that I had sent in already) and so I had to get more copies of my passport (I had that here) and my birth certificate (still in the UK), and they also wanted the actual scores of my exams during my paramedic course. I'd managed to get them through Sussex Ambulance Service (as such), which were sent to me, via Jane in England.

Anyway, the rest of the documents finally got sent off (I don't think that I'm able to supply any more documents, as I don't have many more in my possession), and also sent off to the UK for a document that says I haven't got any convictions from the police. (It is a little different from a CRB check, and also costs more money).

Anyway, with all these expenses I had decided that my little overtime hiatus had better end, so off I went to Mandurah again for two night shifts on overtime. Tuesday was really an easy night, and my partner was another paramedic, as there wasn't any wombles to work with. It was quite an easy night, and I got about 5 hours sleep. I'll take that over working any time.

Also Congratulations to Duncan and Rachel on the birth of their little girl Lily.

Monday – What is a group of Ambos called?

Funny isn't it what a group of things are called? Have you ever wondered why? Let me give you a couple that I think are really off the wall. Why is it called a murder of crows, when most other birds are known as a flock – such as a flock of seagulls? Shouldn't it be called an annoyance of seagulls? How about an army of ants – is it because they are much organised, and resemble a hard working group of soldiers? Another couple – a pride of lions, a pod of dolphins, and a gaggle of geese – all very odd, I think.

I did another night Sunday night in Mandurah. It was a busy night, and we didn't get much down time. What takes most of the time is the transfers from the local hospital, who handball (another Aussie euphemism for passing the buck, or passing responsibility of something to someone else – comes from Aussie Rules Football which calls a pass from one player to another a handball) any seriously ill patient to the bigger hospitals up in the city – about 50 miles away. It would be something to think about if you were going to live down here.

Anyway one of the people we were asked to take up the road was particularly unwell, and was going to be put unconscious with medication, and their breathing was going to be done on a ventilator. Anyway the medications were sorted out, and then the patient was then knocked out, and the doctor tried to put the tube for the patient to breath into the their lungs. This is not a really tricky procedure (called intubation), but in hospitals only doctor can do the procedure.

Anyway, after the medications are given, there really can't be much delay before a patient should be attached to the ventilator, but the doctor trying to do the procedure was really struggling to complete it. After a couple attempts, I offered to have a go (as a paramedic I've been trained in the procedure, and carry it out outside of hospital, on my own – sometimes hanging upside down in a ditch with water running down my neck – not the sterile hospital setting with 3 or 4 nurses to assist – that this doctor was trying to do it in). I don't like to brag, or blow my own trumpet, but I managed the procedure on the first attempt.

Anyway once we got to the hospital up in the city and unloaded the patient in the intensive therapy unit, and went back to the ambulance, where there were 4 or 5 other ambulance crews standing around chatting. Remember that normally in Mandurah I am working with volunteers who actually want to work, and do the job for nothing (well almost, they get paid a retainer for coming in to work of $25, which is what I'm paid for an hour's work).

The other guys all were moaning and grumbling about St. Johns, and the work, and the hours, and blah blah blah. I'm not really interested, as I enjoy my job, and am really happy doing it every day. That is why I'm enjoying working with the volunteers, because they want to be there also. That brings me to what do you call a group of ambulance paramedics. After tonight, I think that maybe a grumble of paramedics, or a moan of paramedics.

Sunday – Learning to be the Local Weatherman

My goodness – how much rain fell last night? I don't know how much rain, but I think I would be better off with a boat, not a car! The rain had been threatening most of the afternoon on Saturday, and although the skies were clear, Kim (the man who lives next door to me in Scarborough) did give me a quick lesson in old timers' weather forecasting yesterday evening.

Kim is a very interesting fellow. He works (I'm not sure what he does – he did tell me, but I couldn't understand what he said, and now am too embarrassed to ask again), and goes to work about 4 in the morning. He is about 50 (it looks like) and is as Australian as Kangaroos and Koalas. He looks after the communal driveway and communal areas of the apartments. Every week he takes all the wheelie bins out to the road (I put my own out if I get there before him), and puts them back at everyone's house, after the bin man has emptied them. He also sweeps the drive at least once or twice a week.

Anyway, he pointed out the sea and Rottnest Island (we can see the see from the apartments), and indicated to where the large bank of cloud was – out on the horizon – and said something. I caught something about 1 or 2 in the morning, and lots of rain.

Sure enough, he got it right – the rain came in torrents at about 1:30, and there was no let up. When I went to the beach house in Golden Bay after work in the morning, I couldn't get down the first road I tried, as it was covering in water about 1-2 feet deep (or should I talk about centimetres), and the other road (there is only two roads into Golden Bay) was also under water, but not as deep. I gingerly drove through, and picked my way to the house.

It wasn't underwater, and the roof wasn't leaking (amazingly). I snuggled up under my duvet (not only was it raining, but also cold, and I still didn't feel brave enough to light the fire), and slept like a baby, until it was time to go to work in the evening.

When I did wake up, it was still raining. "Oh no" was my thoughts, as I picked my way around the flooded roads. The water was covering the road still, but as the rain wasn't teeming down anymore, my trusty little car only was underwater up to the door sills.

I'm going to ask Kim tomorrow about the weather for the rest of the week, so I don't keep getting my washing rained on!

Saturday – Night Shifts Again

I don't know if it funny to everyone, but I think it is. I had thought that after doing something for so long (I've been doing night shift of some description or other since I left school – except for the couple years I was in Corfu working or at the DIY shop) it would great to be like a normal person and only work during the day – maybe I can't be a normal person, but at least I can continue to act like one. That is why over the last 8 weeks I've been enjoying working on the day ambulance (shifts were from 7 until 5 or 10 until 8 4 days on, and then I'd have 4 days off).

Well, this week I've moved back off the day ambulance, onto a shift that operates 24 hours a day again (8 till 6 during the day, and 6 till 8 in the morning). I did enjoy my time working only days, but have realized that I am able to have more time off it seems doing the 2 days, 2 nights, and then 4 days off. It is only what it seems like, as I am actually working more hours, but because it is only 2 days in a row, and then having 24 hours off, and then two nights in a row, before 4 days off. It is only perception, but it keeps me happy – as I'm quite a simple person.

Anyway – I did have another funny/frustrating episode yesterday, after I wrote about the place I was staying. I was on a day shift, and after arriving at work, I realized I didn't have my Scarborough house keys, that should be connected to my car keys. I am not having any luck with keys this week. When I lose something and think I know where it is, I can't rest until I've tried to find them. Anyway, as I was going to be going back to Scarborough late Friday night, and had no way to get the spare keys from the estate agent until Saturday morning, I thought I'd better retrace my steps, and see if I can find them. The list of locations I had been since I last remembered having them for sure was a local corner shop in Golden Bay, a bottle shop (I had a small glass of wine last night in the "House of Horror" to calm my nerves) and then finally at the house itself. I thought probably the house would be the best bet, and so in between jobs, we popped up to Golden Bay and to the beach house.

I don't remember if I mentioned that there was no drive way, only an overgrown lawn (using that word loosely – you might more accurately call it a meadow, or even a heath (he he he), but whatever you call it, it is very much overgrown). When we arrived, I drove the ambulance up to the front door, and went inside and turned the place upside down; I couldn't find my house keys. I looked around the lawn, but didn't hold out much hope to find them. Surely enough – no keys to be found (but then again I didn't think so as the house keys are on a green key ring, and what with the grass being green, and me not being able to distinguish green to well, a whole raft of things seemed to be conspired against me).

Anyway, I'd given up all hope, and got in the ambulance. We started to back up, but then change our mind, and decided to turn around on the front grass. As we started up the drive a gleam of shiny silver caught our eye. Low and behold the keys. We didn't find them initially, because we'd parked the ambulance on top of them and the wheels had pushed the grass down enough to see the key. I felt so relieved.

Anyway, I went home and got into my house alright, slept well. Saturday was easy, and work was good as well. I'm glad I'm doing 2 days, 2 nights and 4 days off again.

Friday – At last things are sorted out

Last night I arrived at the beach house – eventually after the second episode of trying. I had driven around Golden Bay after work, looking for "The Best Fish and Chips Anywhere" (According to Carol, who lent me the keys to the place) that is right around the corner. I couldn't find the place (maybe I did, as there was a fish and chip shop, but it was closed).

After some map juggling (I will figure out how to read it soon, and not mention it again – either that or get a new GPS to replace the one that the rat bags took) I eventually found the right property – remember my difficulties yesterday morning. It was dark, so I couldn't take any photos of the place. I'll pop some photos of the place later when I get here during the day.

Let me describe my first impressions of the place. No wonder I missed it the first time I drove down the road yesterday morning. There wasn't a driveway, just an overgrown (about 3 feet high weeds) what only can be described as a paddock. It was so overgrown, that even when I knew where the entrance should be, I almost missed it.

After negotiating the jungle, I was confronted by a two storey building with some cement steps up to a door on the second floor. The ground floor has a garage and then the rest of the building could easily be on stilts. I climbed the stairs up to the front door with some in trepidation. Again the key problem seemed to almost rear its ugly head again. The key ring has 6 keys on it, and it was the 6^th key that I tried that opened the front door. (Why is it always the last key you try – but why would you try any other keys if the first one works?)

I let myself into the property and was confronted (after finding my torch, then the fuse box – I did know the fuses where turned off) by a very basic house, that felt a little run down, and a little neglected. The house is an old railway station (as I said the other day – it is from a place called Konnongorring – I'm not making it up).

I spent the first hour bleaching and trying to clean the shower and toilet – not that anyone has been scummy in it, just that the window wasn't screened, and been left open. Imagine the dirt, and dead insects in it. Anyway – it's cleaner now than it has been for a long time.

Who knows what actually will happen during the day – I'll let you know on Saturday!

 

Thursday – The Saga of the Keys Goes On

I'm more than likely wanted by the police here now. Not that they will know my name, or where I live, but there will be a report of a vagrant trying to get into a beach house in Golden Bay in the early hours. How I ended up looking like I was breaking into a house is not such a long story, but I'm sure that I'll be able to pad it out a little, to make it even less interesting than normal.

It was very early when I set out to start work down south, and because of the time, the traffic was moving on the motorway through the city centre really quickly. I'd left enough time to put up with 30 to 40 minutes of traffic jams, but as these didn't materialize, I found myself in the Mandurah about 1 hour before I was supposed to start work.

Instead of twiddling my thumbs, and reading the paper – as all good ambulance people should do when there is nothing to do – I though, I'll go over to Golden Bay to the beach house and drop off my stuff that I'll be using for the night.

After some juggling with the UBD
(remember – what a map is called here for some reason), I found the road just back from the beach and in the dawn light, tried to find the property. As I didn't have the original keys to the house anymore, and just the spare set, the number wasn't written on them. I cast my mind back into the fog of a few days ago, and remembered the number 12.

Let me describe the beach house. It was an old railway station from somewhere out in the country, that had been picked up, and moved in its entirety to Golden Bar. Surely there wasn't that many old station houses in this road, so I didn't pay close attention to the house numbers, and found a house that I thought was the one. As I drove into the driveway (old wooden single story building with a couple long verandas on both sides) I saw on the letterbox that this was number 12.

Great – I'll just pop my head inside, open the shutters, and air the place out ready for me tonight. I fished out the keys and as I walked up to the front door, noted also that a New Zealand flag – Carol and Rob who own the place are from New Zealand – was in the window. (I don't know if you are up on the flags of the world, but the Australian and New Zealand flags are almost identical – and as it turns out, I don't know the difference).

I wrestled with the keys for about 10 minutes, looked around the back of the house, before giving up and resigning myself to driving back up to the city after work. I called Carol a little later, when it was a sensible hour, and as it turns out – it was 24 not 12. Hopefully I'll be able to get into that property a little more successfully.

I wouldn't make a particularly successful cat burglary, I've decided, as I can't even get into the right house, let alone get into it, even with the keys.

Wednesday – Mundane is fun

There was nothing much of any significance that happen today. More routine and mundane tasks like sweeping, mopping, washing, and polishing (that was just my car – eventually I get around to the flat, but who knows when, probably the Saturday afternoon before flying home). I thought that maybe if I threw away all the junk that I had lying around in the car, miraculously the GPS et al would somehow turn up.

Guess what – none of it turned up. In fact, I found more things that had gone missing. I kept a small pot of change in the car to pay for little things like parking metres, and drive through coffee. My little fund got the change out of my pocket after finishing work, and for some reason, I always seemed to have a lot of change in my pockets. Anyway, the drinks/parking fund also had taken flight. I've come to terms with it, but if I do catch whoever it was who robbed me, I'll have his guts for garters.

Mandarah is where I am supposed to be going tomorrow, and so I thought I'll get an early night, as I've got a long drive (not by Australian standard I hasten to add) ahead of me to get to work. I had all intentions of doing that, until about 5 in the evening my phone rang and would you believe it, an invite out for a bite to eat. That was lucky, as I'd not got any of my Lite and Easy hot meals left.

After a large bowl of pasta, and a couple small glasses of wine, I retired back to the flat, and looking at the list of things to do, I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to get much rest before the new block of shifts.

I had tried to get a load of washing dried inside after the torrential rain yesterday. I had hung everything up inside. There wasn't a surface/door frame/rail that didn't have a couple pairs of smalls, or socks, or a t-shirt hanging off it. By the time I got in from the cafe and get everything else packed, none of the items were dry. That will be nice, if the estate agent girls come round for an inspection while I'm in Mandurah on Thursday or Friday.

I did eventually get to sleep, safe in the knowledge that 5:30 in the morning was going to come around ever so quickly. I was right.

Tuesday – Shut your eyes, and you wouldn’t know it’s Perth

A little while ago I received a letter from the Sussex Police. It was stating that as I was a witness to a crime that I had seen, that I was entitled to some help from some "witness help" scheme. It was all because I had "witnessed" a murder. What actually happened was that I attended as a paramedic to someone, and attempted to resuscitate them. It wasn't really the most successful thing I've ever done, but we still packed the unfortunate fellow off to hospital.

Because of this, and then the subsequent statement that I had to pass along to the police, I was listed in the list of witnesses. (If you asked me, I didn't witness very much, and could remember even less Your Honour). Anyway, all this help was available to me, if I wanted it. I guess that it is good for the people that need it, but at the time I was "Just Doing My Job".

Anyway, after my little brush with the unpleasant side of the law yesterday, I wonder if anything like that will be offered to me. Maybe I'll need to report the theft of my cool bag to the police. I can see that they are going to drop everything and rush to try and find the little toe-rag. There aren't ASBOs here, but definitely there needs to be.

Alternatively, I'll just loiter around down near the beach promenade near the local drop-kicks of society hang out, and see if any of them want to sell me back belongings.

Anyway – I didn't do any of that, in fact, I did nothing much all day. (Unusual I know). I watched 2 or 3 DVD's I'd got on weekly hire from the Video library, and then – thinking about my upcoming excursion to Mandurah, thought I would get my uniform washed, dried, ironed, and packed.

Owing to the inclement weather, I only managed to do one of the 4 tasked I'd planned. The local news was going on about a tornado that ripped through one of the suburbs down south. We'd gotten loads of rain, and with the wind howling in off the sea, it could have been a late autumn day in Brighton (10 days until winter here).

So with the rain, and being a victim of crime, I might as well have been in Brighton.

 

Monday – I didn’t think lightning sticks twice

I don't remember if I mentioned that about 2 months ago, right after Jane left, that I had my car broken into. It was while I was in between houses, and I was staying in a bed and breakfast for a night. After getting into my house, and unpacking, I had come up with an inventory of what I'd lost. It included the charging lead and little thingy that sticks the GPS to the windscreen of the car. They missed the GPS, because I had taken it inside with me; that and my cooler bag that I take my lunch to work in, and my work bag.

Anyway, I've replaced the cooler bag, and got replacements for my GPS. Last night (after parking in my car port at my house) I left the replacement cooler bag in the car, and thought (as it was right outside the front door) that the GPS would be alright in the glove box of the car.

Routine morning started at about 7. Coffee, and then some banking and paperwork, before getting ready for work, and heading out the door about 9:30 for a 10 o'clock start.

Driving to work, I thought, "Oh no, I've left my cool bag at home", but running late, I carried on to work. As I was getting closer, and pausing at the traffic lights (each cycle takes about 2 or 3 minutes when you get a red light in Perth – it can be very frustrating). I started to get my stuff into my work bag, when like a light, everything became clear.

I hadn't left the cool bag at home; it had been in the car overnight. Also I hadn't left the door unlocked, and ajar. Some little scum bag had opened the door (old car, easy to get into) – on later inspection there are a lot of scratches about the door frame that hadn't been there before, and robbed me again. AARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!! Right outside my own flat in the car port as well.

Well, quick invoice of my lost items now include the GPS (but left me the windscreen thingy and charging lead that I replaced from last time) cool bag (again – I'm going to get another one soon) and the very worst thing – the keys to my beach house I'm going to be borrowing. I've told Carol's boyfriend – who was understanding, and I'm going to replace the lock when I get there on Thursday. The little rat bags that took the stuff most likely wouldn't be able to work out where the place is anyway, as it is about 1 ½ hours south of Scarborough.

There is an alarm and immobilizer that arm automatically on my car (all cars here have to have them fitted before you can get them taxed) but I kept triggering the alarm, so I had turned it off completely. Maybe it was supposed to be as sensitive as that. Anyway I live and learn. I've re-activated the alarm – although something about horses bolting and open barn doors closing spring to mind.

So I had a very bad day, but at least it was my last day of 4 working, and some days off from tomorrow, so all is well now.

Sunday – Same as normal for a day

Not much to report. I have managed to arrange for somewhere to stay when I'm in Mandurah from next week. One of my colleagues at work has offered me the use of their beach house in a place called Golden Bay. I snapped up the opportunity.

Carol – whose place it is – said that she'll leave me the keys in her letterbox at her house. Using the trusty GPS after work, I trundled round, and picked the keys up. "Don't lose them now," I thought, and placed the envelope into the glove box in my car – as I had all my work gear on the front seat.

I went home, and after arriving home (very tired I was) went inside the house, and watched TV, before bed.

Not very interesting day, I'm afraid, but you'll see why I thought to mention the keys and the GPS tomorrow.

Saturday – Nice to feel wanted!

It's hard to explain the reasons why, and when I listed them earlier it all seemed very minor, and all very insignificant, but when you notice something that someone is doing, that starts to bother you, then it starts to glare, and become very obvious.

I am struggling with these niggling, yet annoying things that my current ambulance mate does, but I won't say anything (unlike me I know). There is only a couple days left before all change. Anyway, it was his birthday, and so he was having the day off. I thought that I would just have to make do with someone else, but it turned out that someone actually volunteered to work the shift, because I was the other person.

Anyway, his start time for his shift was 1 hour later than mine, so I had a very lazy start to my day. The rest of the day came and went without any dramas. Mick and I had a laugh, driving round like a lunatic, having water fights, and just being very foolish. It was the light relief I needed after the heartbreak of yesterday.

Talking of yesterday, I had the ambulance service Chaplain – known as "The Don" call me also, to see how I was afterwards. So that was at least two people who was happy to hear from me.

 

Friday – I’ve got to learn that!!

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Friday wasn't a very good day. I was cruising along in autopilot mode, and just picking up the people that had called the ambulance, and trundled them to hospital. We had a medical student join us. Ambulances are always taking out one student or another, and it can be quite frustrating.

One of his optional parts of his course was 6 weeks with the ambulance service, and generally he was working with others, but we all have been taking turns to let him accompany us. Normally we managed to swerve taking him out, because he didn't come to work until 8, and we started generally at 7 or 10.

Anyway, a whole bunch of circumstances conspired together to have him on board our ambulance for the day. That was alright mostly, as he as keen to get stuck in, and told us that he would do all the history taking of the patients, as he was good at that. (Sorry to use jargon – taking is history finding out about the event and relevant facts leading up to the medical event) And he volunteered to do anything he could (Great, I don't have to it).

I say volunteered and only told us that he was good at taking a history, because the first patient we went to who was someone having some chest pain, Jesse said he would take the medical history, and then stood there dumbstruck, when we were confronted by the patient. I guess he's passed his course in ESP and was using mind reading techniques, because he definitely wasn't doing any talking.

Anyway – he had his chance, and because of the urgency of the situation, I took over (I was attending) and after finding out about the situation, took the lady to hospital. After that one, there were 4 or 5 more patients, who got the ESP history taking as well, up until about home time. He'll make a great doctor.

Last call of the day was a nasty accident. It was a tough old motorcyclist, who had been hit by a car, and despite every effort of everyone, he didn't survive. That is why I said my happy bubble burst, as I had to actually use a lot of the skills, and techniques I'd learned, to no effect. There was three paramedics at the scene (I count myself in that) and the Medical Student, and then a couple surgeons, and consultants (not the one who upset me last week), and about 10 nurses who all tried to help, but to no avail.

I was late home, and thought I would go to the local hotel for a quick debrief. The cricket was on, and the company was almost all English builders and brickies (just like being in the Albion). I reflected on the day. Maybe it wasn't so bad. The medical student certainly was keen, and did a lot of help at the accident. It was good to use some skills I've not used for a while (nice to know I still know how). I wonder where I can learn mind reading. I'll have to ask Jesse (the medical student) tomorrow if it is a course only open to doctors, or can anyone take it.

Thursday – Sightseeing Again

Sooner or later the bubble is going to burst. Except for a couple of days (probably 1 or 2 every month since I've arrive) the skies have been mostly blue, with bright sunshine most of the day. It's now a sensible temperature. I was reflecting on the 40 degree plus temperatures when I first arrived just over 6 months ago – my goodness that was so hot, that if I had been wrapped in silver foil, and covered in garlic and herbs, it wouldn't have been to long before I was medium crispy.

Anyway, back to the bubble, mostly I've been enjoying myself here, and it has been a reasonably good time, and I'm getting good money for doing not a lot. Anyway, this is what I was thinking, while I was driving home from the racing on Wednesday. Also I decided that maybe I'd better have a day off before my next lot of real work, starting on Friday.

My reverie was disturbed by the ring of my mobile. After glancing at the number of who was calling, I knew it was time for the bubble to burst. "Rostering Department" was on the phone. As I had volunteered for any overtime going, I thought quickly how I could get out of what they were going to offer, without being to rude, or dishonest.

After listening to what was on offer, I decided "I don't need a day off, and the bubble isn't going to burst just yet." It was a long distance transfer for Thursday to a small town about 200 miles south, and return. Not real work and the person we are taking down isn't that ill.

After meeting my colleague in the morning we flipped a coin for who would drive to Busselton, and who would drive home. I picked correctly and choose to drive first. Off we trundled, with the aid of my handy GPS navigator directing me. Nothing as brutal as the drive north to Geraldton (the Brand Highway – remember "turn left in 300 kilometres" – was actually longer than the whole of Busselton to Perth).

It was a scenic drive, and after dropping the lady off (at her home, as the hospital staff in Busselton said they didn't need to see her, and could we take her home), Jon and I went for some lunch on the beach. So much for Lite-n-Easy, but it was too nice a day to turn down Fish and Chips on the pier (just like in Brighton), except I didn't have Fish and Chips, it was Battered Squid Rings and Chips, and there isn't a pier, it's a jetty (I was reliably informed by a local that not only is it a jetty, it's the most famous and longest jetty in the southern hemisphere.) Oh – that famous long Busselton Jetty – now we all know.

After lunch and a quick look along the seafront - we found a helter skelter slide that doesn't look like it's been used for a while, my colleague Jon decided he would rather read his book than drive, so yours truly drove home as well. Uneventful, and back into Perth at a sensible time, so I can't complain. I was still getting good money for old rope and the bubble was well and truly intact by the end of the day. (This did change pretty drastically on Friday though.)

Wednesday – Like watching Paint Dry

I haven't disappeared mysteriously without a trace. I have been a little neglectful in jotting down my daily activities for a while. I'll attempt to bring you all up to date with a brief description of how each day has been. It's not because I haven't been doing anything (unusually), it is because I've not had much time to sit down and relax.

Anyway after looking at my diary to refresh my memory, I see I covered the races on the Wednesday. There is a culture and mindset here about gambling, and there are book makers, and betting shops pretty much everywhere, and open all the time.

Interestingly, and not to healthy for the customers, a lot of the bookies are actually pubs in their own right. Surely trying to pick the winning horse/greyhound/horse and buggy is hard enough, but to let people fuel two addictions in one place is a definite recipe for disaster. I have been to a couple of calls in the TAB (generic Australian name for a bookie – don't ask me why) and even though the people needed hospital, they didn't, or where very reluctant to leave, just in-case of the next big win.

Anyway to help feed the need for races, the horse racing track here has a meet 3 or 4 times a week. An ambulance is sent every time, just on the very rare occasion a jockey gets hurt. I have attended loads of race meetings in the UK, and only twice have I ever had to render and serious treatment to the jockeys after a fall. Once at a point to point meeting a young lady broke her leg after falling off her horse, and the other time was at Brighton races when the horse tripped and threw his rider quite a long way.

Anyway – I volunteered (nothing else to do that day). We arrived at the race track about 9 in the morning, and were directed out to the far corner of the race course (after the mandatory gallon of scalding coffee, and biscuits). We were handed all the necessary extra equipment (radio, and a list of the races, jockeys, and horses.) Off we meandered to the farthest corner of the race track, and put down roots.

Not once did we get used, and we weren't meant to move from that location all day. We upset some of the natives as we started to drive back to the meeting place for coffee during the day. The only way that we could get from our parking place to the meeting place was to drive on the race course for about 500 metres, until we got to a gate, and got onto a service road. You should have seen the fuss we caused. No one told us that we were meant to leave the ambulance, and catch a little mini bus that bombed around the inside of the track after every race. It is getting to be a habit – upsetting Aussies.

Anyway, dull. There were 12 races, 1 every ½ hour, with nothing to do in between them. Fortunately I was with an ambo (it actually gets very easy to fall into the abbreviation trap) who was a good laugh. It was great to finish, and we cleared off home. I'm not complaining about the work though. 10 hours (we had to be at the race course a long time before the first race, and then we get ½ hour once we arrive on base to clean and wash the ambulance) pay overtime in the end, for sitting in a field, doing nothing. Actually we did watch 3 DVD movies on a portable DVD player that the ambulance social club had bought for just such an occasion.

I've seen more interesting paint dry, but you won't hear me complain (too loudly anyway).

Tuesday – More tasty than Slim Fast

It has been a while since I put pen to paper (fingers to keyboard actually, but it doesn't sound as good). Tuesday came and went without too much drama though. I'm fully settled into a routine of work, days off, and work again. I had a lot of things planned for these days off; as I thought that I'd managed to do enough work for a while, and thought that I'd have a break.

After doing some washing and hanging it out (I thought it might actually dry outside – the weather is taking a break from the heavy rain and cold winds that have been howling around my ears recently). I was eagerly awaiting the delivery from my new food company.

I've still haven't got the hang of making enough food for one person. To combat that problem, I've got this company to deliver my breakfast, lunch and dinner already sorted out. It is really for those people who are trying to keep their weight down, and the meals are all calorie controlled. It is about $100 a week for meals for 5 days (just less than £50 a week). I've worked out that I am spending more than that buying and eating rubbish.

The delivery truck arrived, and I was very excited. There was a large cooler box dropped off, and almost all the excitement of Christmas morning, I opened the box. I was confronted with all my food for the next week (well almost). After inspecting the contents, I didn't think there was enough food here to keep a small child fed for more than a couple days. That was never going to keep me going for more than about 2 hours.

I was a little deflated, when the delivery truck arrived again. There was a very red faced delivery man knocking at my door, with 2 even larger cooler boxes in his arms. He explained that he had dropped off someone else's order, and he had mine in the other boxes. That was more like it. At least I'm not going to starve.

A sample day's meal for me now is as follows:

Breakfast: Grilled Cheese on Toast, and Fruit and Nut Cereal

Morning Snack: Melon Fruit, and a Muesli Bar

Lunch: Dijon Chicken & Pasta Salad, Fruit Salad

Afternoon Snack: Greek Yoghurt, Biscuits with Cheese, Biscuits with Pate, Banana & Date Muffin

Dinner: Thai Green Chicken Curry

And all that adds up to about 2000 calories, if I can avoid other snacks you won't even recognise me when I'm back. And it is tastier than one delicious shake for breakfast and one delicious shake for lunch.

Monday – Too Late Again

I'm someone who likes to be on time, and when someone tells me a time to be somewhere, I'll move heaven and earth to be there at that time. I do know people who think that 15-20 minutes late is acceptable and don't think even to call ahead and let people know they are running late. I know that I'm occasionally guilty of lateness myself. But then, who is perfect, I'm definitely not.

Anyway, while sitting around the house Monday morning, there was a report that although it wasn't winter time yet, there have been three whales spotted close by to where I'm living in Scarborough. I rushed down to the beach, and joined about three to four hundred other people, who must have heard the same news report. Overhead there were a couple of helicopters, and a few kayaks, and some people on surfboards out about 200 metres offshore.

I was looking out towards where the helicopters where circling, and guess what I saw...

If you think about the arriving late at people's houses when you are invited for dinner, it is a tricky one. When someone invites you over for dinner at let's say 7 o'clock. Are they expecting you at 7 with the dinner on the table, or are you expected to be a little late, and dinner will be ready at say 7:45. It is a tough call. I'm an invite you for 7 to serve up at 7:05 usually.

Anyway – back to the whales. I took loads of photos of where everyone was pointing. They were Southern Right Whales. I'm no marine biologist, and didn't notice that they were actually Right Wales even if I had noticed the distinctive V shaped blow plume coming up from their head. (I think I'm meant to credit Wikipedia here.) Anyway I would have had to seen the whales to notice the plumes.

Actually I can't say with 50% certainty that I even saw the whales. I've looked through the photos and zoomed in a lot, but I didn't see anything. . I didn’t put the pictures on today’s writings, because I don’t think that you need another picture of the beach again. The only way that I'm even sure they were there was whales off shore was the pictures on the news. Too late again, I think... I'm start to not like myself even.

Sunday – I don’t think I made a friend!!

After my "nothing is too small, nothing is too big" thoughts of yesterday, today has all gone wrong. It's a long story, but I'll see if I can make any sense of what happened.

The day did start as most do recently with a hair-raising drive to work. The ambulance work was all going normally. My crew mate and myself were quite happy trundling around picking up the grannies and taking them to hospital today. We are what is known here as a "nana magnet".

Anyway, while trundling back from hospital the last time we were allocated some work around the corner from where we were in a hotel. The call came through to us as someone with some aches and pains in his arms and tummy. We went to the hotel, and after a quick check over of the person in question, we came to the conclusion the man was having a heart attack, and the best place for him was the hospital.

After doing the treatment we had to do, we called the hospital to tell them what was occurring. As you may have seen on TV, when there is something serious, or we need to have doctors waiting for quick treatment, we pre-warn the hospital. In Sussex we did it via the radio in the ambulance, here in Perth we do it on the phone. We did this for the fellow having his heart attack.

We arrived at the hospital and waiting for us was a couple of people. One was one of the consultants on duty in Accident and Emergency. As I jumped out the ambulance he asked what was going on. Trying to concentrate on unloading the stretcher, disconnecting all the leads, wires and tubes from the ambulance (remember what I said about multi-tasking), I didn't answer but said I'll tell him in a minute.

Once inside the hospital, I started to explain to the doctor what was going on and he just said "Shut up" to me, turned and walked into the area that we are going to be putting the patient. I think that you would have seen the steam shoot out my ears.

Anyway, the patient got the correct and great treatment, and I thought I'll leave it about the way that I was spoken to. Off we went to pick up another granny and bring her into hospital. During the trip I kept thinking about the situation. I'd decided that I wasn't going to leave it, so I went into the department, and found the consultant. I asked if I could have a quick word about the last patient that we brought in. When he said yes, I let him have it with both barrels along the lines of "Do not ever tell me to Shut Up again. I'm a fellow professional, and just because you are a hospital consultant it doesn't give you the right to treat me like a lackey." I didn't hang around to hear his response.

I feel that maybe I've managed to mark my card at that hospital. I'm not going to be on the doctors Christmas card list. Oh well.

Saturday – Nothing remarkable or memorable

Nothing at all happened today that is worthy of a mention. I don't even remember most of it. All I can do is mention the only thing that sticks in my mind.

I have been reading about a man called William Van Horne, who was a railway executive in American in the late 1800's. Gripping book it was, I have been using something to put me to sleep recently, and it is something that I've been reading. Anyway he said "Nothing is too small to know, and nothing is too big to attempt."