You can teach an old dog new tricks

We can see ourselves!

After lying trapped under a rock for five days, climber Aron Ralston hacked his way through his arm with a pocket knife and walked back to civilisation.

Scottish king Robert the Bruce, his spirit broken by defeat to the marauding English forces, retreated to a cave where he hid for months in a state of abject despair. There he watched a spider successfully build a web - despite repeated failures - and found within himself the will to rise again and lead the Scots to a famous victory in the Battle of Bannockburn.

Faced with the shame of telling his parents he had been put on a report card for a consistently slack attitude, this Bruce (aged nine) discovered previously unearthed acting talents and persuaded his deputy head teacher that he had actually asked to go on report - a far lesser shame to take home.

Throughout history, seminal moments such as these have proven mankind’s ability to find hidden strengths at times of need.

Continuing that tradition, Fran’s parents have - at a combined age of 138 - become computer literate because of the need to keep in touch with their daughter. They won’t fly to Australia (it takes a quart of Captain Morgans Dark Rum and a industrial dosage of Valium to get them on a plane to Ireland from London) so Skype video calls have become the next best thing.

Six months ago they wouldn’t have dared touch a computer - even mobile phones were something to be feared - now they’re on the bloody thing all the time; Fran’s even set up a Facebook account for them (Bruce is less hopeful of success here).

"What? Start my video? Ah...FOUND IT!"

Patience is key

It’s free (as long as you’ve got the internet and a webcam), takes you into your friends’ and families’ homes and, in the case of Mr and Mrs Fran Senior, leads to some entertaining, if frustrating, comedy routines.

*booooop* *booooop* *booooop*

“Hello darling. Can you hear us?” say the seniors.

“Hello. Yes, we can hear you. Turn on your video,” says Fran.

“How do we do that?”

“Click on Start My Video. Like you have done every other time.”

“Where is it, dear? Ooh! We can see you.” Giggling commences from the seniors at seeing their daughter on screen for the first time in, oh, at least 48 hours.

“It’s in the same place it was last time. Look for the blue bar in the middle of the screen. See it?”

“Yes dear.”

“Click on it. You know - move the mouse over it. Your cursor. You know - the arrow.”

“OK dear. Oh, something’s happening. Ah, there we are. Hooray!”

Cue joyous jig around the seniors’ computer desk, a la Sir Alex Ferguson celebrating a late Utd goal. With hindsight, perhaps they’ve started on the downers / rum cocktail already.

Either way, for us expats, it’s a wondrous piece of technology; just ensure you remind your parents, especially when they’re in their 70s, to get dressed before calling…

Just like Springfield, without the nuclear power

What's so "special"?

In the guest book at Ironbark Cottage a smitten, hill-dwelling lass on a romantic retreat for her beau’s 21st wrote of a “special” view that “money just can’t buy”.

Now, it wasn’t the finest of days when Bruce and Fran arrived, yet was still clear enough to see from the top of Mount Dandenong across to the far side of Port Phillip Bay, but they weren’t overly impressed. Yep, there’s the sea, there’s the land and - what’s that whopping great white thing in the middle? Oh, Chadstone shopping centre. Gorgeous…

Still, the cottage itself - one of four tin and timber affairs set among well-maintained gardens and the Mount’s towering timbers - was great: all quaint and cosy inside like a trip back in time to The Waltons, with wooden ducks on the wall and a log fire. But, no matter how long Bruce and Fran gazed at the view, they couldn’t summon Miss Lover Lover’s depth of feeling.

Then they popped out to grab dinner and a couple of pints of Hargreaves Hill from the tasty selection of boozes at the log cabin style Kelly’s on the Hill in Olinda. Before they returned, the sun dipped over the horizon and night fell. And then they understood what she meant by the “view” as a shimmering blanket of lights unfolded before them…

Suddenly, they felt like Marge and Homer on an early date. What’s more, the cottage had a large spa by the window and they’d remembered to collect some cleanskin sparkling on the way.

It was enough to help Fran forget her Wolf Creek-inspired concerns about the cottage’s owners, concerns caused by nothing more than the chap’s combination of thick, greying Merv Hughes ‘tache and surrounding heavy stubble beard with a tattered lumberjack shirt. Bruce knew that was no sign of danger; the large collection of romcoms on DVD in the office and the welcoming CD featuring the “soothing sounds of love” were a greater indicator of serial killer potential.

But, like the land of Puffing Billy, with its leafy walks, lakes and cakes, the owners were nothing less than lovely - and the cottage only 45 minutes drive from the CBD.

Even better - money can buy the view - a couple of hundred bucks a night should do it, spa, log fire and tranquility included.

I spent a week in Sydney and all I got was this lousy appreciation of Medicare

Such pretty hands

For once it wasn’t trapped wind or a dodgy tummy, despite Fran’s attempt to demolish a Bogan burger* 48 hours earlier. No amount of anti-spasmodics or painkillers was going to take this pain away: her appendix had ruptured, which apparently meant it was leaking poo into her insides.

It may sound unpleasant, but it had its upsides. For one, we got to see the vehemently anti-drugs Fran off her head on a variety of substances

• Morphine: dopey eyed and with a lazy smile, she entertained hospital staff at the Prince of Wales with unsolicited eulogies on the wonders of cupboards and the bushiness of Bruce’s beard
• Temazepam: 15 minutes after ingesting her tablet she hit the panic button only for the ward sister to assure her that no, there wasn’t a giant growth coming out of the side of her neck like Richard E Grant in How To Get Ahead In Advertising
• Codeine: a manic look on her face, Fran paced agitatedly around the room, talking fast and incessantly. Moments later, sat on the sofa, she began rubbing her head in confusion before falling into a contented, fixed grin trance.

It also made us thankful we’d signed up for Medicare, as the treatment, barring the pre-hospital doctor’s visit and post-discharge prescriptions, was free.

On the downside, Fran has developed a phobia of hospitals and we’ve realised private health insurance is a good idea. The nurses were mostly great, the doctors in a hurry but full of reassurances, and the hospital foundation book shelf contained the odd welcome surprise (apparently the Marianne Faithfull Mars Bars incident is a myth). But other than that…

Hmmm... delicious

Discounting the constant smell of human secretions combined with detergents and medicines, the incessant beeping of drips in need of changing and the stereotypically awful food it’s a destabilising thing to be placed on a busy gastro ward.

In her week inside, Fran shared rooms variously with a leg amputee whose TV was on full volume 24 hours a day, but wasn’t loud enough to drown out her pained pleas for assistance (normally in the form of a bed pan), an irate Czech pensioner, a heavily snoring gay man with blood pouring from his bladder, a dying smoker from Eastern Europe, an alcoholic Scot with a penchant for ripping out his catheter and alternately abusing and charming the nurses, and a smack addict who would be quiet as a lamb during the day only to spend the night shouting the place down: “I need my METHADONE!!!!!“

There was lovely Nana, 92 this year, with her gentle stories about her 5pm whisky every day and her twin daughters turning 70 this month, and wizened old Pearl (who prefers the name Peg) with the irreparable wound to her lower leg, but an indomitable spirit and amazing two-tone died hair.

But, the overriding lesson (apart from a ruptured appendix being great for losing weight) was: If you can afford even basic health insurance, do. If you can’t, find a way.

*A Napier Hotel special. See here