To Catch You Up On Places I've Been 1

“The people up there listen to two kinds of music,” the nurse said with a twinkle in his eye, when he heard where I was going.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Country and Western.”
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The wings of the plane turn again to bring me to my new office, and this time it is a town in NSW, a place called K.

It was exciting and yet difficult to have to say goodbye to Melbourne, and to spend time away from K and my friends and family in Melbourne, but this was what this year was meant to be all about – experiencing what it would be like to work away from Victoria.

The first thing of concern was that there was no direct flight to K., and so I had to take a plane to PM first – and the moment the plane landed and I was finally allowed to switch on my phone – it worryingly showed no reception.

And so the thoughts were racing through my mind about how isolated I’d be in these coming two months, as I called for a taxicab to bring me to the hospital. We rode about forty minutes in the dark Sunday night to the hospital, passing trees and the town centre. I asked the fairly quiet taxi driver about the recent floods, and breathed a sigh to hear that it had receded.

It was a $95 dollar ride, and the feeling of desolation increased as I stepped into the hospital, thinking about how difficult and expensive it would be for me to travel out of here.

The hospital itself had all the charms of a district hospital, pleasant staff who had been working there forever, and fairly basic but adequate necessities to look after the local community.

Anyone with a potentially bigger medical problem would need to travel to the bigger hospitals at least 60 kilometres away.

They have been nothing but welcoming and friendly, and the work can get busy sometimes, but all in all it is pretty manageable.

I live in a house about ten minutes’ walk from the hospital, the sole inhabitant in a house meant for three, although I do get the occasional on-call radiologist or Emergency doctor staying here.

Each night work ends at five, and I walk in the early winter sunset into the house, and try to
drown out the quiet with the television on. I call home to feel the warmth of familiar voices, and wonder what their nights must be like while I am away from them.

There is no internet access here, but the quiet solitude is a welcome break, an impetus to sit quietly and listen to yourself reflect; something we don’t often have the luxury of time to do, in the rush to accumulate wealth and pursue happiness.