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House of Pain.

datePosted on 10:36, May 25th, 2018 by Pablo

I am on the mend, sort of.

Or better said, I am out of surgery and convalescing after having my left hip replaced. It was an interesting experience. They decided to give me a spinal with a light sedative, so I got to hear the sounds and feel the tugs. After the first tugs (slicing and dicing as they opened me up), I heard a circular saw. That is used to cut off the top of the femur and old hip ball. Then I heard a grinder. That is used to “sand” down the pits and sharp projections caused by degenerative arthritis on the hip socket. I then heard hammering on metal. That is the sound of the fitted metal plate being hammered into the hip socket (think of the spikes that are used to hold down railroad ties. Here the spikes are hammered into the hip socket through holes in the fitted metal plate). The hammering was also the new titanium hip ball being hammered into the new top of the femur (also attached by a spike). Then more tugging as they sewed me up. They cut and separate the abductor muscle to get to the hip. Took about 1.5 hours.

The first night was agonising once the spinal wore off (took about 4 hours). They prefer not to give painkillers until all lower body sensation is restored, so one has to suffer until the painkillers kick in after normal sensation resumes (which works downwards from the point of injection to the toes). For me, that included suffering through a pain fever (where one is hot to touch to the point of discolouration and blistering amid profuse sweating). I would say the pain was 8.5-9 on a scale of 10, all through my pelvic girdle. The next day they got me up and we started “exercising, ” (i.e. walking with a walker and crutches) and the worst pain was (and is) in the femur that was operated on (pain at about 7.5-8 level). I now have incision pain (a hot tearing sensation) as a constant more than anything else, on a scale of 5 or so out of 10.

I assume the various pains will begin to wear off soon but boy, I could use some opiates at this point (they try to avoid using them and I have a reaction to morphine anyway). Instead, I rely on the mobile pharmacy of non-opiates that was provided to me upon my release.

I was released after 3 nights in hospital and transferred to my in-laws as a halfway point while the family support crew worked. Lets just say that the 100 meter walk on crutches to the car and entering/exiting said vehicle was excruciating. It managed to combine deep bone, pelvic girdle and incision pain into one big ball of wretchedness. Beyond that, I am incredibly fragile and vulnerable to falls, which is a problem because along with infections dislocating the new hip is considered to be a terminal game changer for the worse.

I will go home tomorrow and continue to use the crutches and cane until I can walk by myself. I cannot bend forward, twist my hips, cross my legs or have my knees higher than my hips for six weeks. I need special chairs for the shower and loo. I cannot drive for that time (a problem in a one driver household located a half hour from the nearest main town). But I am told that it is all worth it once the pain goes away and will be able to exercise and perhaps even jog again.

That is my motivation because I have promised the little guy that I will soon be able to kick the ball and chase him around the paddock. Let’s hope so.

PS: Other than a couple of glitches, my experience with the public health system (so far) was 9 out of 10. In terms of institutional processes and staff care I received excellent treatment. I did go private for a couple of tests but everything else was done publicly and the total time from when I was put on the waiting list (as an acute case) to surgery was 3 months. Happy to see my tax dollars put to good use.

One For Christchurch

datePosted on 11:14, June 21st, 2016 by E.A.

For the past few weeks I have been struggling to complete my posts on New Zealand Future and the Maori Party so instead I decide to post about something I can summon enthusiasm for.

In the one year since returning to live and work in Christchurch two things have stood about the people in the city.

The first is that almost everybody you speak to has been effected by not only the quakes but the horrendous bureaucratic and legal process that followed in getting their lives back on track.

Almost anyone you talk to can tell you where they were on that day, what they did after, how they got home, who they spoke to and how they spent that first night. The details are vivid and highly personally and it speaks reams that almost all of them have happy endings. Loved ones and pets were safe, families a bit shocked but sound and neighbors rattled but doing well.

Such is the ubiquity of the events that it’s the quintessential conversation starter in Christchurch. Ask anyone where they were and away you go. Instant connection and genuine sympathy abound and people are usually happy to discuss the events.

Where it gets interesting is how people have coped in the five years following and again almost everyone has had to struggle with either insurers, builders, CERA, the council, ECAN, EQC, the government or lawyers to get their lives back on track but the discussion often takes a darker turn.

At first I thought I had wandered into some sort of weird statistical nexus where I was surrounded by people who had these incredible stories of how they had suffered, struggled and usually prevailed over a range of forces, who to many, appeared bent on doing nothing to help (despite that being their stated purpose) and everything to hinder.

As time passed though I came to realize that what I thought was a fluke density of people was in fact the majority of people living in Christchurch. And it was not just homes and families, it was sports clubs, cultural associations, businesses, community groups and a wide range of entities; all of whom had seen their lives, livelihoods and pastimes upended.

No one blames anyone for the quakes (except the odd religious loony claiming that sin city got what was coming to it). Things happen, that’s life.

On the other hand time and time again I had had to pick my jaw off the floor at stories (both in the press and from people) of what could only be considered corruption, nepotism, criminal practice and all manner dodgy and clearly illegal and immoral behavior by individuals associated with the rebuild, insurance industry, and council and government bodies.

I stopped counting the number of times I heard stories of people having to fight their insurer, builder, CERA or others tooth and nail to get simple things done, have their policies honored, crappy repairs replaced, contracts upheld and getting help with their lives.

And it’s not just individual stories. Not a week goes by that the local media does not have more on to add. I counted in my local weekly paper last week three major articles on issues with the quake and on top of that the daily paper also abounds with many more (stalled convention center, post rebuild job slump and displaced communities just to name a few).

Not all of them are negative but after sifting out the feel good fluff pieces ghost written for Jerry Brownlee or the powers that be most are either critical of the speed of the rebuild process, discussing the various dodgy issues going on, calling for an inquiry into one thing or another (including a royal commission to look at the whole thing) or simply stacking up what’s been done and finding it wanting.

And to add to the problem is the sheer complexity of them all. If it’s not  nepotism or corruption in CERA (now renamed in an abortive re-branding exercise); its massive and rampant issues with the rebuild itself; struggles with insurers and pay outs; lives being upturned by homes being downgraded or shoddily repaired; the fact that the side of the city often worst affected by the quakes also happened to have some of the poorest neighborhoods; roads like rural tracks; once familiar and treasured landmarks gone; local businesses and services removed and not allowed back; schools being forced to close despite all clear dangers no longer existing (Redcliffs School); and on and on and on.*

In the first few years this level of concern did not exist; partly because it’s was understood that getting a city back on its feet takes time but also as many of these issues had yet to come to light.

Five years on it’s a different  story and in the 12 months since moving here it’s clear that the coverage in the national media does not do even 1/10th justice to what this city and surrounding regions face. Outside of Christchurch it is becoming a silent tragedy with many people (previously including myself) just not wanting to hear any more about it but also believing that things have been mostly fixed and the city is back on its feet.

Yet whenever I take visitors to Christchurch for a drive through the Redzone (I don’t offer they just ask) it’s a rapid change that takes place as the initial chattiness and excitement of the “adventure in quake town” is soon replaced with a silent state of shock as the sheer extent of what’s happened and what’s going on is made clear.

Yes there are new buildings and repaved roads but there is also the empty expanse of the Redzone, looking like a slightly greener version of those aftermath photos of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, with empty neighborhoods sprinkled with trees to indicate where property lines once were, the odd house not demolished just to make it clear what this place actually was and roads, that only now after five years, you can drive on without feeling like you’re on an amusement ride of some sorts.

Also the central city, once looking like a kiwi version of a war zone, now has some major new buildings going up but all of the character and heritage of Christchurch is mostly being replaced with dull corporate structures of steel and glass and the central city still has the open wound that is the half destroyed Cathedral right there, at its heart, standing as a grim reminder of what happened.

I lived within the four avenues for most of the 90s and have fond memories of walking or cycling the city streets, learning its secret ways, shortcuts and locations and becoming part of the community of students, artists, bohemians and general folk that make up any central urban area. All of those are gone and with no clear indication that they will ever come back as the only people willing to move back into the central city are the government and banks who are taking a stake on prime ground.

The big new glass buildings might give the impression of life returning but they are hollow reflections of what made up the city center and a forewarning of the sterile corporate soul that will infest the city center at cost to all else.

And that’s where we get to the second thing that I have noticed about Christchurch which is the palpable sense of fury and anger that exists among the people here. Again I thought it was just one or two people but over time I have come to see that the sheer scale of the negative effects of the rebuild is mirrored in the rage and anger at those who have had to live though all the negatives that followed in the wake of the quakes.

For example, mention Jerry Brownlee and it’s almost impossible to not get a string of expletives from people, and from all parts of the political spectrum, red, blue, green, yellow, whatever. His name will draw down a range of angry criticism which regularly borders on road rage levels of anger.

And I say this with no hyperbole at all that I would not be surprised to hear if someone went into an office of a particular authority and behaved inappropriately. As sad as such an event would be I have heard it described and imagined in detail many times; again from people you would never expect to fantasize about such a thing; setting out in clearly where they would go and what  they would do. Undoubtedly these are all just the verbal venting of individuals who have been through a lot and are justifiably frustrated but who would never actually do the things they are describing (cathartic fantasizing) but such is the anger and upset at what has gone on here that this is the solution that comes to mind.

The fact that CERA and the government has refused requests for an official inquiry, trotted out a tired line of excuses again and again; refused to look into clear cut cases of corruption and nepotism; ignored issues and buried or twisted stories, surveys or investigations (often with a sprinkling of saccharine PR) where it could and allowed the insurance industry and a range of dodgy building providers (from individual cowboys right up to Fletchers) to game the system to their own immense profit is standard daily fare for people in Christchurch and the anger at such things is now legion.

What will happen I do not know. I have been back 12 months and it’s not like living any other city I have previously lived in (and I have lived in quite a few). The center is gone, it’s referred to as a doughnut city and while life thrives in the various suburbs where the energy and life of the center has now relocated there are others suburbs where communities are still struggling to get back to normal (New Brighton for example).

What I do know is that while most of NZ lives in quiet ignorance of what is happening here it’s a daily fact of life for those in the Garden City. I myself do not live in an effected area, I missed the quakes and have not had to deal with any of the aftereffects but I am a small minority among the upset and often angry many.

As political issues go it’s irrelevant. I doubt Labour or any other government would behave any better such is how our system has become and I wonder how it would be if the Capital was struck as Christchurch was; would the response be the same?

In the end I have an immense respect and sympathy for those that live here and every day I hear stories of them struggling to get their lives back on track and often they do but they mostly did it themselves with little help from government, council or anyone else. If they had not struggled and fought it’s scary to imagine what this city could have become.

This one is for Christchurch!

 

*- I would add links but there would be pages and pages of them. Just read the Christchurch Press or weekly papers in any day or week for an iota of what is daily here. Just Google it!