Don't Spoil a Good Story

Five years ago, when Old Jack was admitted to the Outback Nursing Association Hospital at Yandellama, almost anything wrong with him could be attributed to 90 hard years in the bush. He was brought in by a neighbour when his old hut burnt down, and Sister Podmore saw him as the opportunity to keep the little hospital open. She admitted him to treat some minor burns and, as he had nowhere else to go, never got around to discharging him. The Government subsidy received for Jack, its one permanent patient, kept the four-bed hospital financially viable, and the bureaucrats in Sydney continued to put its eventual fate back into the Too Hard basket.

Apart from the Flying Doctor who held a weekly half-day clinic there, the little hospital was Yandellama's only medical service. After nearly 20 years serving the community, both Sister Ellen Podmore and Mrs Norman, the cook and housekeeper, reached the age when they would be able to retire on the old age pension if the hospital was closed. "And what would Mrs N. and I do with our time if they closed this place? And where would we live? And what would happen to Old Jack?" Sister Podmore asked anyone who would listen.

But the inevitable happened. Old Jack died.

After they buried Jack in the old cemetery by the river, Ted Quinlan, the publican, called a meeting at the pub. 'Beer on the House for the First Half-hour' on the notices displayed around town assured a good early turnout. After the initial scramble for the free beer, Ted addressed the packed public bar.

"We've got a fight on our hands to keep our little hospital open."

"We'll need a committee," someone at the back said.

There were several calls of "Seconded."

Ted was elected Chairman and Frank Chalker, the school teacher, Secretary/Treasurer. The hat was passed around to provide some initial funds. It was decided to engage Ralph Williams, a local boy who had made good as a solicitor in Sydney, to represent them and send letters to the Outback Nursing Association and all the appropriate politicians and Government Departments urging that the hospital be kept open.

To raise further funds for the campaign, a 'friendly' was arranged between the local football team and their arch rivals, Gundawalla. If Yandellama was famous for anything, it was its football team which won the Regional First Grade competition four times in the last ten years and had been a finalist on two other occasions.

Between football and cricket matches, the grass on the town oval was kept short by grazing a few cows on it. Even though the more obvious evidence of this grass mowing method was removed before a game, Sister Podmore was always urging the football club to make sure all the team were up to date with their tetanus shots. Nobody took much notice.

The match was a great success. As well as the funds raised from admission charges, the takings were augmented by a chocolate wheel, raffles, guessing competitions for the children and a tent serving both beer and tea and scones. To top it off, the local team won.

Father Pat O'Reilly, who had represented St. Patrick's College while doing his theological training, was Captain. Not as quick on his feet as he once was, he took a heavy tackle during the Gundawalla match. The result was a grazed forearm. It didn't worry him much and the only treatment it received was a cursory wash under the shower after the game.

When his alarm woke him at 5.30 the following morning his jaw was very stiff. He immediately thought of tetanus, which he knew was also called lockjaw. All records were broken for the speed at which early mass was said -- perhaps mumbled would be a better description -- before Father Pat was pounding on the door of the hospital demanding a tetanus injection. Within the week the whole team had been inoculated and Father Pat had written to the Bishop urging him to support the campaign to retain the hospital, using his own experience to illustrate just how vital the facility was to his parish. The Bishop, who was a personal friend of both the Minister for Health and the Premier, reached for the phone.

After the decision was made that the hospital would remain open while Sister Podmore was prepared to stay on, Mrs. Norman asked her, "Do you really think Father Pat had tetanus?"

"No, of course not. The symptoms take at least three days to develop. I suspect he just got a knock on the jaw that he forgot about in the heat of the game. But don't tell him. Let's not spoil a good story with the facts."