Bleeding Nose

Last night I discover Marcus on his bed with a bleeding nose.  There he has been sitting for the best part of an hour dripping into an ice cream container and me upstairs and everyone else downstairs.  No one seemed to be too concerned.  Megan was doing some bed time reading and prayers with one child and Marcus was on face book.  I later discover, he was describing his ailment and receiving messages of sympathy.

As I discover this situation, sudenly others become excited and phone calls are made and we discover that the Doc's locum service is over busy and can't come tonight.  So Put Marcus in the car and take him to the Taringa medical centre.  Along with his bucket of blood.  They try to refer us to the Wesley (private hospital) but the Wesley are having none of this and so its on to Royal Childrens (public hospital).

Surprisingly at Royal Children's we jump the queue of screaming babies and zoned out pre teens and get ushered straight in.  The phone call from Taringa must have oiled something.  There  are two counters staffed with between 5 and 8 people (varies through the night).  Marcus is whisked away.  I am pumped for information.  medicare number, privat health details, Marcus's birth date including year, Family doctors name and so on.  Each request resulting in a blank stare from me and a text to Megan.  The bucket of blood is weighed as 465g which the astute would recognise and meaning that we have about half a litre of blood.

Then the waiting begins. Actually it seemed to me that the bleedingwas beginning to stop while we sat there. Then they tell me that he will be staying in over night for observation.   I suggest that I will drop of his school uniform so he can check out in the morning and walk up to school.  They indiacted that Qld health would not allow that.  There are rules to follow and forms to fill in that will take I suspect several days.  After a while they shove a thing called a Rhino up his right nostril.  This is like a thin rubber tube wrapped in gause.  The idea is that once it is in, they can inflate it and the pressure will stop the bleeding.  They also tell us that he will be in a bed on the 4th floor and not too long after we discover this will be in a ward called "Surf ward".  OK so far.  They seem organised.

11pm and I ask whats going on.  "The beds not ready.  They are very busy up there". is the response.

Midnight passes.
I wonder why they can keep so many people busy feeding computers and yet can not find someone to make a bed.  In fact I wonder why they wait for a new body before making the bed.  Surely it would be more efficient to make the bed ready for a new patient.  Then you could get the patients out of emergency and into the wards quicker.  A conspiracy theorist might suggest that the procedure is designed to make the back log in emergency look bad and justify more people feeding computers.  But I would'nt think that.

I attempt to leave but I am told I can not leave until Marus is admitted and settled in his ward.
A nurse wheels in a recliner chair.  This is heaps better than the upright chair I had been attempting to sleep in.  Like airports, they have specifically insalled chairs designed to prevent people from lying down.

1am passes.
Finally a wardsman arrives and wheels Marcus's stretcher upstairs.  The lights are out.  No nurse anywhere to be seen.  The nurse riding shotgun with us flicked through some paperwork and established that we are to be bed 10 and a quick check confirms bed 10 to be un occupied.  So Marcus hops in.  A nurse appears and there is a huddled conversation.  This is called a "hand over".  I tell I am going and they look somwhat taken aback and I explain that he has been on sleepover before.  I am sure he will survive the night and they have a whole hospital to deal with any life threatening issues that may arise.

1:30am. 
I manage to leave

2:00 I arrive home.

It seems to me understandable that Qld Health can't get their pay system right.  If it takes two hours to do something simple like make a bed (remember they found it available almost immediatly) then one can hardly expect them to do something complicated like implement a complex computerised pay system.  Mind you, you then have to ask why, if its all so easy, could neither the Taringa medical centre nor the Marter handle something as simple as a bleeding nose.