Clinton has been on my back about writing a blog for a while now; he feels that he is unfairly shouldering the blog-writing duties in the relationship. But the fact is I haven’t had anything particularly exciting to write about, which is probably a good sign – life is rolling along quite smoothly and nothing is particularly whinge-worthy. So instead of writing about what’s been happening lately (because there really isn’t a lot to tell, apart from buying a 24-can "cube" of Pepsi for the first time in my life earlier today), here’s my review of 2007.

We left Brisbane a year ago and drove to Narrogin via Sydney, Bathurst, Broken Hill, Port Augusta, the Nullarbor Plain, Esperance and Katanning. It was the middle of summer, and we had no air-conditioning. Well, actually we do have air-conditioning, we just choose to leave it off to maximise fuel economy and minimise the likelihood of overheating our ridiculously overloaded Mitsubishi Mirage. As a result, we sweated copious amounts and drank lots of warm Hydralyte and Gatorade. Due to Clinton’s dietary restrictions we couldn’t survive on the usual roadtrip diet of chips and burgers, so instead we ate between 2 and 4 cans of tuna per day, alternating between Corn Thins and gluten-free
toast as accompaniments. Gourmet.

Narrogin is a pleasant little town, a place where everyone is very nice to each other and the biggest event in town is not actually in town, but 50km down the road – the Wagin Woolorama. I don’t know what the crime rates are in Narrogin, but they would have to be the lowest of any towns we have lived in over here. It really is a nice little place, with not a hell of a lot going on unless you find sheep entertaining.

I also had my first close encounter with a kangaroo. As a result, Tanya the Mitsubishi Mirage got a new bonnet, which has since acquired a fair number of stone chips in it, courtesy of the 50+ metre road trains they have around these parts.

Then it was off to Kalgoorlie. I really don’t have much to say about Kal, suffice that it’s very big on its mining and drinking. The nurses all seem to have husbands/partners/boyfriends earning big bucks working on the mines, biding their time until they have enough money to quit town a buy a fancy house in the big smoke.

I also learnt to be extra careful with the patients – most of them were infested with an organism or two that didn’t belong there….

It was also my first experience in a hospital with a majority of Aboriginal patients, many of whom spoke English as a second language. The token lectures we had in first year uni on cultural safety and Aboriginal health really had no practical value in such an environment, and the most important thing I learnt from this time was a few words in one of the Aboriginal dialects which is still serving me well (even though there are dozens of dialects throughout WA, some of the words are the same). Working with Aboriginal people here must be what working overseas in a non-English speaking country is like – you can’t make any assumptions about language, knowledge or behaviour. It’s frustrating, challenging and sometimes depressing, but every now and then you meet someone who you can have a good laugh with or someone who is doing really well and it’s not so bad.

After a two week whip around the South-West of WA, we landed in Meekatharra. Ah, what can I say about Meeka? What other hospital runs out of oxygen at 3am in the morning, or makes their nurses scrub bedpans because the pan flusher has been broken for over 18 months? Where else can you perfect your cake-baking skills on night duty, or practice your tap-dancing by squashing the hordes of cockroaches which come out when the sun goes down? And where else do people burn their houses down in the middle of the night, on purpose? ("Don’t worry, the government will give me another one") Yes, Meeka is a bit of a shithole, but it’s got its own charm. You just need to be stuck there for a while to realise it.

After Meeka, it was north to the oasis that is Broome. Ahhhhh, Coles, Woolworths and even Target Country! Cable Beach and a clean swimming pool! A half-decent hospital, with doctors to boot! What luxury. What’s more – a hospital with doctors and nurses who actually want to teach you stuff!! Jackpot!!

Broome is a really fantastic place to work for people like me who have been hanging out all year to learn new things, because basically everyone will let you have a go at whatever you want to learn. Want to become a cannulating jedi master? Go right ahead - we have the cheapest, worst cannulas you can get. So if you can manage to get these suckers in, you’ll have no problem using the half-decent ones you get everywhere else. Want to learn to suture? Sure, here’s a drunk person with a laceration on their head/arm/leg/random body part – go right ahead. When you’re done, here’s another drunk person to practice on. You want to do backslabs too? Well, I’m sure we’ll have a fractured arm/leg/etc coming in the door any minute now…

It’s all good fun, and the staff are fantastic. The doctors are particularly eccentric – most of them are from far north Queensland which probably explains a lot. But Broome itself – well, it’s a little overrated to say the least. To buy a house won’t leave you with much change from $700-800,000, but there is a massive divide between the rich and poor. The banning of full-strength takeaway alcohol in Fitzroy Crossing and Halls Creek has seen a massive migration of the "desert people" to this "saltwater people" country, with a marked increase in acuity and nature of presentations to the hospital. Sexually transmitted infections are rampant but there are no resources to do much beyond contact tracing, let alone prevention. There is lots of talk about gas fields and diamond mines bringing the dollars into the region, but so much of it goes into the pockets of a select few, and the social problems which plague so much of rural Western Australia persist.