Darwin and The Internet
Without Prejudice
I asked Dad if he wanted me to come straight away. He had been diagnosed with Prostate Cancer at 76 and opted out of treatment. He didn't want the fuss and bother of it all and stated he had had a good life. 8 kids, all doing well.
He had since diagnosis walked Helen down the aisle, the last girl to be married in our family. He had also been married himself. He married Carol his best friend and love for the previous 14 years. No matter she was 33 years younger than he was. He wanted to make sure she was "OK" when he died.
As I sat on the phone with at work at John Sands I was saying, did he want me to come now in the May or a bit later when he was closer to death. He said now and understood what I was trying to say without speaking aloud the word death. He had been given a six month prognosis and the six months was up,
Diagnosed in October it was May of the following year.
So I flew to Darwin immediately. The powers that be giving me a cheaper flight under compassionate grounds. It was a long trip, stopping off in Alice Springs, time enough for only perusing the contents of the gift shop inside the airport. It was what seemed like the middle of the night when I landed, finally in Darwin. I was surprised to see a wheelchair for Dad. But he insisted on walking to greet me. I hugged him and held him tight, so very tight. Willing him to live. Wanting a miracle.
It was the middle of the night and we all talked and then went to bed. I had the room with the hamster in a cage that ran on a wheel, endlessly running through the night. The night even in the early hours warm and tropical and I slept like a baby, exhausted from the rush of travel and anxiety.
Dad was up the next day, a bit wobbly on his legs from morphine but looking well. His guitar arrived that day from Qld, and he spent a good while unpacking it and putting it together again. The palliative nurses came at midday to check on him. He had injections and pills that killed the pain. I pulled them aside and asked how he was doing and they said all they could do now was relieve his pain.
He had the pills and potions and was a helpful patient and laughed and joked with the nurses. Dad loved females, all females and when one entered the room, he lit up. He tried to be strong for all of us and he was. he had been diagnosed in his late 60's with Type one diabetes and they had taken him off insulin as it fed the cancer.
They fully expected him to go into a coma without insulin but he was fine. He lay on the bed after the treatment and went into a doze. All the dogs in the house, his and the households, all lay with him, as if sensing his illness and watching over him in silent homage. Dad loved the dogs and we always had one when we were grownng up.
When he woke I asked if he was OK and he said he was. The nurses had told me they were waiting for "break throughs", meaning break throughs of pain and they had to be counted. He would not go to hospital for treatment, he was adamant about that. he said,
" If I go into Hospital it's because I am dying and I won't die there "
I understood and our job was to make him as comfortable as possible. So we did. My brothers friend BAD arrived. he brought with him a computer and all these cords and hooked everything up and he then showed us this new thing called the Internet. It was 1996. We could type in a subject and all these articles would come up from all over the world.
Bad said for me to type in a subject like Prostate Cancer, so I did and 11,000 articles came up. I for some reason thought the whole idea was really bad, scary almost. I imagined in years to come it would have the power to see into our own houses, a silent sentinel, not to watch us but to judge us. I have a massive imagination and could already see the dangers of it.
I kept thinking of George Orwell's book 1984 where Big Brother could see into homes and I was literally terrified and backed away from it. My brother and bad were fascinated and continued to play on it all night while us girls languished outside in the sultry air.
For some reason Dad's wife and my Sister in law started discussing my dear old dad's choice of fashion and we all started laughing, gasping, crying with mirth and Dad came outside and asked why we were chortling amongst ourselves,
"Share the joke", he said.
We were drinking bourbons and coke so we ended up telling him and he was quite offended and went back inside. I followed him in and told him it was just a joke and the then agreed some of his fashion choices as he was older were not the best. How he must have missed my Mum who kept him immaculate when she was around
But since she had died his choice of clothes was not the best. he had a fawn Safari suit which was worn with knee high socks. He had a pair of cords he wore to Carol and Ian's wedding which he had stapled up the hem on the outside and wore them all with a pair of cuban heeled boots.We quickly sobered up when we realised our discussion had hurt him but every o often we would erupt with giggles and he glared at us.
Joyce, my half sister rang from London and Dad broke down and cried when he spoke to her. It was so sad and we all surrounded him and gave him a hug. We poured him a large scotch and coke and Bad handed him a massive joint and Dad had never tried MJ before.
It wasn't long before he was laughing with us and said,
"Holy hell I'm dying and I'm pissed and stoned and we all laughed with him then.
The whole time as we sat outside aboriginal people kept coming to the security fence out front.
"Taxi", they would yell.
Carol, Ian's wife explained to us that they did it all the time as they knew either Ian or Carol would call a cab for them. None of them had phones. Most of them were very very drunk but they couldn't get through the security fence. I thought it was such a shame to see them drunk. They were the most gorgeous looking people, handsome and tall, long limbed. It was so sad to see them falling down drunk in the dusty street outside but it was just a part of life in Darwin.
I asked Dad if he wanted me to come straight away. He had been diagnosed with Prostate Cancer at 76 and opted out of treatment. He didn't want the fuss and bother of it all and stated he had had a good life. 8 kids, all doing well.
He had since diagnosis walked Helen down the aisle, the last girl to be married in our family. He had also been married himself. He married Carol his best friend and love for the previous 14 years. No matter she was 33 years younger than he was. He wanted to make sure she was "OK" when he died.
As I sat on the phone with at work at John Sands I was saying, did he want me to come now in the May or a bit later when he was closer to death. He said now and understood what I was trying to say without speaking aloud the word death. He had been given a six month prognosis and the six months was up,
Diagnosed in October it was May of the following year.
So I flew to Darwin immediately. The powers that be giving me a cheaper flight under compassionate grounds. It was a long trip, stopping off in Alice Springs, time enough for only perusing the contents of the gift shop inside the airport. It was what seemed like the middle of the night when I landed, finally in Darwin. I was surprised to see a wheelchair for Dad. But he insisted on walking to greet me. I hugged him and held him tight, so very tight. Willing him to live. Wanting a miracle.
It was the middle of the night and we all talked and then went to bed. I had the room with the hamster in a cage that ran on a wheel, endlessly running through the night. The night even in the early hours warm and tropical and I slept like a baby, exhausted from the rush of travel and anxiety.
Dad was up the next day, a bit wobbly on his legs from morphine but looking well. His guitar arrived that day from Qld, and he spent a good while unpacking it and putting it together again. The palliative nurses came at midday to check on him. He had injections and pills that killed the pain. I pulled them aside and asked how he was doing and they said all they could do now was relieve his pain.
He had the pills and potions and was a helpful patient and laughed and joked with the nurses. Dad loved females, all females and when one entered the room, he lit up. He tried to be strong for all of us and he was. he had been diagnosed in his late 60's with Type one diabetes and they had taken him off insulin as it fed the cancer.
They fully expected him to go into a coma without insulin but he was fine. He lay on the bed after the treatment and went into a doze. All the dogs in the house, his and the households, all lay with him, as if sensing his illness and watching over him in silent homage. Dad loved the dogs and we always had one when we were grownng up.
When he woke I asked if he was OK and he said he was. The nurses had told me they were waiting for "break throughs", meaning break throughs of pain and they had to be counted. He would not go to hospital for treatment, he was adamant about that. he said,
" If I go into Hospital it's because I am dying and I won't die there "
I understood and our job was to make him as comfortable as possible. So we did. My brothers friend BAD arrived. he brought with him a computer and all these cords and hooked everything up and he then showed us this new thing called the Internet. It was 1996. We could type in a subject and all these articles would come up from all over the world.
Bad said for me to type in a subject like Prostate Cancer, so I did and 11,000 articles came up. I for some reason thought the whole idea was really bad, scary almost. I imagined in years to come it would have the power to see into our own houses, a silent sentinel, not to watch us but to judge us. I have a massive imagination and could already see the dangers of it.
I kept thinking of George Orwell's book 1984 where Big Brother could see into homes and I was literally terrified and backed away from it. My brother and bad were fascinated and continued to play on it all night while us girls languished outside in the sultry air.
For some reason Dad's wife and my Sister in law started discussing my dear old dad's choice of fashion and we all started laughing, gasping, crying with mirth and Dad came outside and asked why we were chortling amongst ourselves,
"Share the joke", he said.
We were drinking bourbons and coke so we ended up telling him and he was quite offended and went back inside. I followed him in and told him it was just a joke and the then agreed some of his fashion choices as he was older were not the best. How he must have missed my Mum who kept him immaculate when she was around
But since she had died his choice of clothes was not the best. he had a fawn Safari suit which was worn with knee high socks. He had a pair of cords he wore to Carol and Ian's wedding which he had stapled up the hem on the outside and wore them all with a pair of cuban heeled boots.We quickly sobered up when we realised our discussion had hurt him but every o often we would erupt with giggles and he glared at us.
Joyce, my half sister rang from London and Dad broke down and cried when he spoke to her. It was so sad and we all surrounded him and gave him a hug. We poured him a large scotch and coke and Bad handed him a massive joint and Dad had never tried MJ before.
It wasn't long before he was laughing with us and said,
"Holy hell I'm dying and I'm pissed and stoned and we all laughed with him then.
The whole time as we sat outside aboriginal people kept coming to the security fence out front.
"Taxi", they would yell.
Carol, Ian's wife explained to us that they did it all the time as they knew either Ian or Carol would call a cab for them. None of them had phones. Most of them were very very drunk but they couldn't get through the security fence. I thought it was such a shame to see them drunk. They were the most gorgeous looking people, handsome and tall, long limbed. It was so sad to see them falling down drunk in the dusty street outside but it was just a part of life in Darwin.
