From Amanda's very early writing (1990s to early 2000s), shared as it was originally written.
A WELLNESS HOSPITAL
I have just had the great fortune to be involved with what I call a wellness hospital - and it was a wonderful experience. My father - he's really my stepfather but he was really my Dad died early this morning after a week in this hospital.
The 10 sisters and nurses and 2 doctors the last days of my Dad's life as well as they could be. They were so kind and caring and loving despite being ridiculously busy. Monto hospital is blessed with a Matron who runs a hospital that treats people with compassion.
Nothing was a nuisance for them; they all supported my mother and family more than they will ever know. For her, to be sitting by his bed trying not to cry and have a hug from one of the sisters as they passed by meant the difference between carrying on and not. We often forget the old adage
'people don't care how much you know, until they know how much you care'. And we knew they cared. My cousin Annabel said that 'words cannot express the support and comfort these people give at a time like this' - but I'm going to try.
I guess one of the many advantages of having my own column (apart from having a wonderful editor) is that I can write about events that really make a difference in my life. As I sit in the airport writing this, I am remembering the myriad of kindnesses these people endowed on my father. Holding his hand; gossiping with him (he's a bushy and loves gossip more than anything - except my mum, his sons and his cattle!) ; wiping his brow; making him more convertible; giving him sips of water when we were not there; and just being there with him.
One of those fantastic sisters even rushed home to grab the last of her brandy so he could have a drink one night. They did everything they could, and more, to help us through this time.
I know that most people working in hospitals are like this at heart but the Monto team (including the cooking staff who specially prepared his favorite brains and mashed potato and were willing to cook for him at any time rather than just at preset meal times ) were just as busy if not more, than staff in a big hospital and probably more exhausted because they are so short of staff, yet they still had time, care , concern and love for us.
Not that anyone would notice but I would like to make a plea for the Monto Hospital staff - they desperately need a nursing home wing so they can devote more time to the acutely ill rather than the older long term patients who have no where else to go. Anyone who knows the health minister in Queensland might ask him to investigate the needs of this group. They service a wide area and offer phenomenal care.
So what made it a wellness hospital? And how would a wellness hospital help us? Firstly the matron, sisters, nurses and doctors (Michael and his locum) and their incredible sensitivity. The relationships they formed with my Dad and us ; the way they genuinely shared our pain and they way they always made time for us despite exhaustion and huge workloads gave us tremendous support, and boosted our immune systems as well as stopped us from falling apart. Not to mention how they made the quality of his last days much richer.
The way the hospital was painted, furnished and laid out meant we could see the gardens and trees outside - research has shown that this helps patients recover more quickly; it had doors and windows we could open so we could breathe fresh air and avoid the toxic germs that love air conditioning; it smelled of wonderful fresh eucalyptus and was spotlessly clean. They had a TV we could just ask for, and a radio that they took out of their own area so Dick could listen to the cricket. There was a kitchenette that we had 24 hour free access to with a fridge, and facilities for making tea, coffee or heating up dinners; they offered us blow up mattresses so we could lie beside him on the last night - in other words , the hospital and it's people treated us with kindness, respect and dignity.
Too many of our hospitals now are huge, impersonal prisons with massive rules and regulations that treat the symptoms and not the whole person. They are chronically short staffed and the environments are not conducive to recovery. Nor do they recognize the importance of boosting wellness and the immune system and simultaneously treating the condition; and of the role the relatives , friends and caring medical and nursing staff play in recovery - and that helping us meant they were helping Dick.
I worked in hospitals for many years and know how many dedicated and caring people devote their lives to helping others, so my comments are a reflection on the system rather than the people in these hospitals - perhaps we could use Monto as a model for the sort of hospital in which we would like to recover.
Of course, it's a country hospital and their facilities are limited- there is no intensive care department for example, but I wonder , after this experience, how much better the flash machines and equipment would work if they were combined with the caring and sensitivity of those incredible Monto folks. My Dad certainly lived a longer and happier life because of them. Thank You.
