Around forty years ago my life partner was gradually becoming paralyzed from the nipple line down with total loss of feeling so advanced that medics could insert the needle used for creating nerve response on the skin into her flesh and no pain sensation resulting. Numerous gods (Drs) assessed her condition as psychiatric and for treatment just go home and pull yourself together which surprisingly did nothing other than increase the feelings of helplessness and frustration.
Eventually, two years on, by means that were at that time nothing short of outrageous and with an appointment with the Neurologist some weeks away, we went to his 'rooms' where a receptionist asked if we had an appointment. My reply was to the point that Yes we did but by the time that date eventually came around the increasing rate of disability had me believing it would be of little use and politely asked if "Mr" Cunningham could spare five minutes at a break or between patients. her reply at around eleven AM was it would not happen. Being of a somewhat desperate and pigheaded disposition we just sat there.
Have no idea what "Mr" did for lunch but finally at 1705 hrs, he emerged from his inner sanctum, the receptionist having gone for the day and beckoned to me saying he would see me then. My somewhat ungracious reply was to the effect that there was nothing wrong with me but it would be great if he would see swmbo.
.Long story short within the hour swmbo was admitted to CHC public and following day had first a lumbar puncture then a cranial after which protocol prescribed 48 hrs bed rest. That disappeared and late morning we were on a scheduled domestic flight to Momona and the following day surgery to remove what turned out to be benign tumor from the spinal cavity that had compressed the spinal cord as in the example of a hose with a car tire on concrete might restrict water flow. There was residual nerve damage that defied the magnificent recovery in regaining almost full restoration of function below the nipple line.
Why all this, well in ignorance of the then medical terminology, 2017 had my youngest born c1966, felled by an epileptic seizure in late January while helping her hubby to makeup a spare bed for his Mothers upcoming 94th birthday. Went catatonic then onset fitting tested his first aid skills that were rapidly and effectively employed.
ABC (airway breathing and circulation), call 111 had Pt in HB hospital with tests that established a squash ball size menengioma tumor between temple and Rt ear, six weeks later removed in Wellington Public, Ward seven south, a clearance from Lab with a benign result then staples removed and recovery almost complete.
Admittedly swmbo had no seizure to trigger response but the communication, prompt assessment and diagnosis between two in some ways similar incidents only separated by location and date, revealed the Gulf of how far medical delivery has traveled.
This post was triggered in part by Homepaddock's Sunday open forum that featured a "bottle" of "Gratitude" as a lead in.
We now have two bottles and are twice blessed.
In concurrence with The Veteran's post recently, when considering our size we do have a very good medical service that continues to make some awesome strides within the constraints of a small South Pacific Nation economy and a population that flirts with self harm in many guises on a daily basis.
As I warned Daughter, her scheduled surgery could have been postponed if a moron tried to self destruct leading to her appointment with surgery deemed of lesser importance than a badly damaged brain from any of many causes. To avoid such a scenario would require a vast over supply of facility that would be idle for much of the time.
Grateful thanks to the many, almost all unknown, who just do it, day in day out and we are overdosing on gratitude.