|
Daniel
sang "Your Song". It showed off his big voice well, but again
I could hear him working at each effect but didn't really feel any conviction.
He ought to be better than he is.
Chanel
sang "Constant Craving" by KD Lang. She started off with a
beautiful, simple rendition and began to build, but spoiled it at the
end with her usual trick.. getting to what ought to be the climax and
pulling back. When the judges criticised her for it, she said "I'm
not a belter". Pah. That's no excuse for bad musicianship. You
can build a song without belting. Still, way better than last week.
Courtney
sang "God only knows", by the Beach Boys. It was really not
very good. I've liked Courtney up to now but the others left him for
dead tonight. He is always the same. I imagine he'd be good fronting
a gig band. But he hasn't enough intensity.
Casey
sang "Special ones" by George. I don't much like the song,
it's all lyrics and not enough melody. But she sang it well, and the
big climax was fab. She has a great deal of honesty and intensity, and
such poise at just 16.
And that
brings me to Anthony. This was just the most stunning
performance on any idol show I've seen, this year or last. He sang "The
Prayer", normally sung by Andrea Bocelli and Celine Dion. Bocelli
is a classical-ish tenor (not my cup of tea, he's a little too light
on for me, but he has a fine voice). As he began I was thinking, my
that's ambitious. But then he delivered a drop dead fantastic performance
that gave me both goosebumps and tears in my eyes. Wow.
All his
other performances have been little more than competent, I had NO idea
he had it in him. What on earth is he going to do to follow it up?
I've been
totally wrong with my tips to date, but anyway here goes. For bottom
three: Marty, Hayley, and either Courtney or Daniel, probably
Daniel. To go: Marty.
The
top three for me now are Anthony, Casey and Ricki-Lee. Interesting
how that changes from week to week.
Aunty
pride
Got new
pics of my nephew Jamie this week, and here he is. I think he has my
mum's mouth. The eyes are definitely from his dad Patrick. None of our
side of the family have dark eyes, everyone is blue or hazel, on both
sides, except one or two on dad's side and they are medium brown, not
nearly black.
Monday
4 October
Idolness
I wasn't
too far off: the bottom three were Daniel, Chanel and Hayley, with Daniel
out the door. I'm not at all sad to see Daniel go. I think the reason
he went this week was that Anthony did what Daniel ought to be able
to do. Anyone who would normally vote for Daniel would this week have
voted Anthony.
Marcia
made yet another crack at Chanel's expense. I don't think it's professional
for her to keep doing it so blatantly.
Tuesday
5 October
Space,
here I come
I meant
to say this a few days ago: I'm saving all my spare dollars for my ride
into space!
I've always
wanted to see the earth from space, ever since I was a toddler. Serious.
And now they're doing
private space travel. It's only going to cost a few million. I may
need to find myself a sugar daddy.. any takers? Mind you I'll want to
wait until the pilot isn't thinking "I might die like a squashed
bug" before I sign up.
Pitcairn
weirdness
I've been
following the story about sexual
assaults on Pitcairn Island with great interest. My main interest
in it is from the point of view of the weird insular culture they have
there. There are only nine families, with four surnames (imagine how
inbred!).
Various
stories about the legal proceedings have highlighted how the islanders
work as a group, because they are so very isolated and depend on each
other. Apparently
they do everything together on the island, farming, fishing, house building,
etc. It makes sense on a tiny island, they would be extremely interdependent.
It takes
days by cargo ship to get there. There's no airstrip, so it must be
a major deal to get anything or go anywhere. Apparently men on the island
thought (and perhaps still do) that it's fine to grab a 12 year old
and rape her, and she believes there's absolutely no point in telling
anyone, because there's a culture of ignoring anything unpleasant.
The mayor
being one of the main offenders lends weight to this view.
I can't
imagine what it would be like to live there, but I think it must be
fairly similar to a prehistoric tribe. It's about the same size, and
just as isolated and self-sufficient as a tribe would have had to be.
I guess the mayor would be the alpha male of his generation - the person
with the most powerful personality and perhaps the physically strongest
as well.
That would
make complaining even harder.
It's extraordinary
that many on Pitcairn (and Norfolk Island too, from all reports) believe
that the case is a plot to weaken or destroy the island in some way
on the part of the British. Even if this were true, it does appear that
abuse has occurred and this does not seem to be part of their response.
Why it happened and how they can prevent it happening in future doesn't
appear to be a major strand in islander responses to the situation,
as far as any reports I've seen go.
That just
shows you how strong a culture can become. Apparently an "outsider"
lived there for a while and wrote
a book about it, which I'm keen to read. It would give a fascinating
insight into insular tribal life, I think.
Today the
postmaster, Dennis Christian (descendant of Fletcher Christian) pleaded
guilty to sexual assault of a 12-year-old girl. Steve Christian has
been accused of "sexually initiating" all the girls on the
island. ALL the girls!!! And I bet that wasn't what they would have
chosen. The reports from the women involved say, "there was no
choice", and "I didn't want it", so that isn't a sexual
initiation but rape of a child.
Another
man, Dave Brown, is alleged to have abused five victims, including a
five-year-old and another girl aged under 13.
Women on
the island are saying it's part of the island's culture and none of
them were forced into it. On the other hand, consider these facts: the
trial involves more than half of the island's adult men, and if they're
convicted there aren't enough men to man the longboats they use to bring
in supplies from passing ships.
Rather
throws their opinion into doubt if you ask me. Plus, they have to live
with these men. It would be psychologically difficult to face up to
what they've done and continue living with them as husbands, brothers,
neighbours and sons.
Politics
102
Apparently
some Americans
can't tell the difference between TV drama and real life. A study
shows that they base their politics on crime and health shows... my
oh my.
Wednesday
6 October
This
is cool
I'm majorly
not a John Howard fan, so this site (courtesy of Brendan) tickled my
fancy. Throw
John Howard overboard!
Feeling
blah
Today I
feel terrible, emotionally. I am unbelievably fragile, always *this*
close to tears or snapping at people. I can't handle any kind of conflict.
The only
way I can operate is that everyone in my life has made it possible for
me to do so. My family and friends and workplace have all protected
me from exposure to difficult things as much as they can.
This makes
it possible for me to go to work part time, to keep writing (I like
the distraction), to not be physically drained (because everything gets
done for me).
But still,
four rounds of chemo and I teeter on the brink. It doesn't take bloody
much to tip me over. One cross email and I blubber like a baby.
Man, next
year I owe so much to so many people, when I'm better I'll need to think
up lots of creative ways of repaying everyone.
Aunty
goodness
This time
my Aunt Louise, who is flying to Adelaide to be with mum. She needs
two people in the house with her now, because she can't walk without
support from two people, so therefore can't get to the toilet, etc.
There's
a nurse coming in, but there always needs to another person there. My
Aunt (who lives in New Zealand) is a saint. Neither my sister or me
can do it, me because of my illness, Lesley because of her new baby,
so I'm immensely relieved that she's helping out like this. It will
be very painful for her to watch mum's deterioration.
I called
her yesterday and she spoke to me but I could barely understand her.
This is a cruel cruel disease.
Saturday
9 October
Chemo
no 5
Every time
I begin the chemo treatment I cry. I don't mean to. I sit there telling
myself not to. But it turns out to be not possible to remain calm. I'm
sitting there on purpose letting these people poison me, and it feels
like abuse. I know I know, a heap better than dying of cancer of the
liver or whatever, but it feels wrong and stupid and horrible and I
cry.
The nurse
this time said, you can talk to the doctor about reducing the dose or
what the risks are in skipping the next treatment. I was amazed, but
I have no intention of doing that. Not going to risk my life for the
sake of a few more weeks of torture.
Yesterday
I just felt very tired, and (as usual) scoffed a heap of salty stuff,
this time a bag of Thins. That's all I ate.
Today I
slept a lot. Breakfast was porridige, which I managed to keep down,
and just now (oh joy) two saladas, which settled my stomach.
Nausea
is on a 3 out of 10 at the moment (at 3pm).
Protection
Last week
I had to have a discussion with my boss. She wanted me to do a small
job for a client which involved talking to them in person for two half
days. It wasn't what we'd agreed at the beginning of my coming back
to work, but I didn't object.
As soon
as I'd said yes to that, I felt stressed out and upset. I can't imagine
dealing with it and I dont' want to have to. I'm so close to crying
or snapping at people all the time, how can I talk to a client? They
may say something I don't agree with, and I'd blubber! It sounds stupid
but that's how I am right now. All day my stress level rose and rose,
and I knew I just couldn't do it.
So I talked
to my boss in detail about how I'm feeling, and she took me off it (bless
her). I realised that I had been protecting people at work from how
I feel. I wear my wig, my skin looks all glowy, and I do the work I'm
given. As far as I know no one has even happened to spot me lying down
during the day, not that I was trying to avoid that, but it's seemed
to work out that way.
So I guess
it's in my interests to let them see a bit more of where I am. Yeah,
they do say 'how are you', and I answer, 'crap', or 'really crap'. But
they don't know what that really means.
Once I
get back into work, I'm feeling less nauseous, but still around a 3
out of 10 nausea. I'm tired, emotional and a bit hazy and confused.
It's really odd but this doesn't seem to affect my work. I go slower,
much slower than usual, but the work I produce is fine.
It's routinely
peer reviewed the way all our work is, and the level of corrections
and suggestions is the same as always. No way would anyone protect me
from that since we pride ourselves on top notch work for clients, so
I'm sure it's fine.
That's
a big relief, given I'm drawing a salary.
Anyway,
the other night I took off my wig and let my boss and the CEO see my
mangy-cat hair. It's about 90% fallen out and looks really appalling.
Their eyes widened but they were very polite, "you look good with
short hair".
They were
also talking about the radiotherapy part coming up, and whether I'd
work part time through that. I definitely think that's a good idea,
since I dont' want the stress of having to worry about hours. On the
other hand I've used up all my sick leave, so it's going to be an expensive
exercise.
With any
luck our parent company will supply some extra leave for me, and that
will be a big help.
Lymphedema
On Thursday
night I went to my breast cancer support group and discovered that I
have lymphedema. The speaker was a lymphedema therapist, and as the
night went on she kept talking more and more to me since it was obvious
I already have it.
What is
it, you may ask? Well if you've had a bunch of lymph nodes removed the
area that they would be servicing is compromised. They drain waste fluids
from the muscle tissues and send them to the kidneys. If they're no
longer there, the fluids can build up and this causes pain.
I have
some early symptoms: that sore cord feeling under my arm, which is a
lymphatic channel over filled, apparently. My right hand often feels
a little swollen. I have an ache under my arm where the nodes I still
have are.
The list
of things I'm supposed to do to remedy/prevent it is long and must be
done for the rest of my life. The most worrying one is that repetitive
movements bring it on. Naturally I spent most of my day on the computer,
so this is a worry. Though to combat it there are some simple stretches
and stroking you need to do, to move the lymphatic fluids along manually.
I have
to avoid scratching my arm, because if any bacteria gets into it this
can be very serious. Mossie bites and hangnails make me vulnerable to
this as well. I have to wear gloves when gardening, (easy, since I don't
garden), avoid vacuuming the whole house at once (easy, since I have
a cleaner). No hot baths ever again! (Sob) Avoiding the sun (easy, since
I already must due to white northern skin).
The repetitive
thing is going to be the hardest.
I'm angry
about this, because I asked my surgeon 'what should I do to prevent
lymphodema', and he said, there's nothing you can really do about it.
Some women get it and some don't.
It annoys
me how little he knows about any other kinds of treatments apart from
his own, he's utterly uninterested in nutrition, meditation, or any
other thing that might help me. He's only interested in: operate/don't
operate. Is the wound OK. And that's it.
Why don't
I have someone in the middle of all this treatment who oversees all
of this, coordinates all the various treatments, thinks of me as a whole
person not as a bit to be treated? Really, this is outrageous that I
should have to accidentally discover this.
Anyway,
once chemo is finished I'll join up with the lymphodema clinic and get
proper treatment. I don't have the energy for it now and will just do
the things she showed me the other night in the meantime. I hope it's
enough.
Cirq
de Soleil
On Wednesday
night we saw Cirq de Soleil. A party of us, including two work contacts
of Tony's, Mike from work and his partner Janne, Chris B and his wife
Louise. The show was amazing, full of things that literally made my
jaw drop.
Very slick,
very professional, and utterly cool. There were a few places where I
thought a particular number dragged a little, but otherwise it was great.
Some highlights:
a trapeze artist who hung from a red billowing curtain 100 feet up,
and twisted around it in the most breathtaking way, but it was also
very moving.
A woman
who balanced on tiny little stands in ever more ludicrously difficult
poses, climaxing with holding her whole body up on her teeth.
Three women
who held themselves up on a large circle swinging from the ceiling by
their ankles, with no safety wires.
The tumblers,
who were graceful as well as strong. One part had three men standing
on top of each other, then a fourth jumping from the ground doing a
back flip and landing on the shoulders of the top one. The whole audience
gasped.
Then they
had this move where a tumbler would start on the ground, do a backflip,
and land precisely on the interlocked hands of two people behind him.
Amazing that he could land with such precision, he never missed and
the guys with hands out never had to move a muscle to catch him. Then
they lined up four guys doing this, so that one would land where the
other had just left from, all together, if you know what I mean, in
a kind of domino effect.
Amazing
stuff.
There was
much more but just go and see it. Even the clowns were funny, and the
live band was impeccably good.
Today's
silly link
Who
loves the chocolate? Everyone loves the chocolate!
And if
you're a weebl toon fan, here's a page of
mobile
phone ringtones.
Sunday
10 October
More
lymphedema
There's
a long weary list of things I'm supposed to careful about to prevent
getting lymphedema.
No lifting
heavy things in my right arm. No carrying shopping, lifting tables,
etc. Must not get the skin broken. If I have dental treatment, I should
have antibiotics first because it can circulate bacteria into the bloodstream.
Oven mitts
for anything hot, so I don't burn the skin. No hot baths or saunas,
or at the least keep the affected arm out of the heat. No heat compresses
to the right arm or shoulder. No sunburn or even overheating in the
sun.
Burns,
chafing, dryness, cuticle injury (such as hangnails), cracks, cuts,
splinters, and insect bites are immediate risks for infection. Use antibiotic
ointment on any cut or break.
Use rubber
gloves when I wash dishes or hand-wash clothes or garden. Take frequent
rest breaks when scrubbing, mopping, cleaning, or while doing other
vigorous or repetitive activities, especially if my arm feels tired,
heavy, or achy.
Use an
electric razor instead of a safety razor. Use insect repellents that
won't dry out the skin, and keep the arm very clean with a low irritant
soap. Rest my arm in an elevated position but not for too long.
Do stretches
and lymphatic massages, especially after repetitive motions. Don't wear
clothing with tight sleeves or that restricts motion in the arm. Don't
drink too much. Don't smoke. No blood testing or injections on that
arm.
Yesterday
As usual,
my nausea ratchetted up the scale from 3 out of 10 at around 4pm yesterday,
to 10 out of 10 at 5pm. I threw up violently, and realised that this
is why my back has been so sore, from the puking.
So nix
the porridge and saladas I ate earlier in the day. The total food count
ingested for yesterday is a grand two saladas with vegemite.
This morning
again woke up with a nausea count of 1-2. Ate two saladas for breakfast,
playing it safe. We'll see how it goes.
Nauseated
Today
got steadily worse, as usual getting suddenly worse at 4pm, then by
5 I was throwing up again. I hate this.
I'm really
tired, partly from getting no nutrition, and partly from just putting
up with all of this, and I'm sure some of the medication does it too.
I was supposed to be going to the "look good feel better"
workshop tomorrow but for the second time think I'll have to cancel.
Yes, they give you free cosmetics, but no, I don't care enough.
Idolness
I watched
Idol and was amused. You just knew that Dicko would be a Beatle purist
and harangue everyone. Just didn't expect him and Marcia to have a standup
personal fight on national teev though. How unprofessional and unattractive
it was. I'm starting to think that even though Mark and Dicko take the
prize for saying mean things to the contestants, Marcia tries to be
Queen of the panel and have the last word, interrupt and generally try
to make the other two sound stupid. All by being earthymothery to them.
I think I'm taking a big dislike to herh actually.
Anyway.
Chanel
sang Across the Universe and did a fine job of it. She actually found
a climax to the song and didn't hold back, and combined it with what
she's good at, all those ethereal sounds. I actually liked it for once.
Anthony
sang "I saw her standing there" (which I always think of as
'she was just 17"). I liked his performance, but it was a million
miles from last week. Couldn't he have found something to show off his
voice better? Disappointing. Still, it was fun.
Casey
sang "Eleanor Rigby". This song worked originally because
while it has complex rhtyhms, lyrics and harmonies, and a rich full
sounding backing, the vocals are simple and simply sung. Unfortunately
not only was the arrangement this evening appalling, way over the top,
and overbalanced so you could hardly hear Casey, she sang the vocals
way to over the top as well, and forgot her words very obviously. Mind
you the arrangement isn't likely to be her fault, but still it was a
dreadful mess. There were some nice moments, and I still like her emotive
style. I wouldn't vote her off tonight for this one performance but
I fear that is her fate.
Marty
sang "Oh Darling", and for the first time in ages I liked
it. He got right into it and made me feel the emotions behind the song
for a change. His simple sound matches the song well too.
Hayley
sang "Yesterday", which could so easily have been a terrible
mistake. It's such an overdone song. It reminds me of Mozart.. no wait,
I mean it. In pop land, this (and several other Beatles numbers) are
so simple that that's the only way they can be effectively sung. Hayley
pulled it off, simple, gentle and nostalgic (though not as well as Paul
McCartney, obviously).
Courtney
sang "Got to get you into my life". I'm pretty sure he had
a few bloopers in there, but he sang with great enthusiasm and really
let go. I remember now why I liked him a few weeks back.
Ricki-Lee
with "We can work it out" was last. Again she forgot
some entrances and lyrics, are they making these people work too hard
or something? Still she was slick and energetic as always. She never
falters.
My bottom
three for this week: Casey, and after that I'm stumped. On
previous voting I'd venture Hayley and Marty, but they sang so well
this week. Hmm. Anyway Casey to go. Top two performances for me this
week: Courtney, Chanel. Neither of these were standouts though.
Tuesday
12 October
Milestones
Today is
the anniversary of the Bali bombing, but to me it is foremost the anniversary
of my father's death in 1976. Always a sad day for our family.
Blechiness
Yesterday
I managed not to throw up, hooray, but felt like dreck all day instead.
I did manage to eat actual food though, a piece of sweet corn, and mighty
nice it was too. One of the worst things is that I can constantly smell
the chemo leaking out of my pores, and oh god if I think about it too
much that's not a good thing.
Next topic.
Idol
shock!
Not only
did Casey's dreadful performance of Eleanor Rigby fail to get her into
the bottom three, but Australia voted out the only consistently good
performer of the lot, Ricki-Lee. What, did they think she was safe or
something? Surely, SURELY people can't think that Marty, for instance,
is better than her?
It's totally
beyond me.
I'm getting
sick of all Chanel's little comments on what was in the Idol show, what
was said to whom, who likes who, etc. Come on girl, it's not actually
a show about you. She seems overly concerned with what everyone is thinking,
and yes I know this show is all ABOUT what everyone is thinking, but
pretending not to be is part of the game, yes?
Whose bright
idea was it to do the Beatles in any case? Hardly any of the songs are
really suited to this show. To do well in Idol you need a few screamy
outy notes you can belt so the audience can go wild, since they don't
seem to know good singing from loud singing.
Beatles
songs are best sung simply, without any such theatrics. If you listen
to the originals (NOT the Chaka Kan version, ewww), you hear that Paul
McCartney in particular had a genius for singing simply, with feeling,
and letting the lyrics and melody speak for themselves with no decoration.
Like I said earlier, it's the Mozart of pop. Simple is best.
And like
Mozart, any flaw in your performance is instantly shown up. Eg, Ricki-Lee
shouting nasally, Casey getting overwhelmed and lost, Anthony playing
it safe. In my view, the one who understood it best was Hayley.
Now, can
some kind person please explain to me what the hell is going with that
beat boxy thingy? What is the point of it please? Speak up sonny, I
can't hear you, me old ears is playing up.
State
of the nation
And yes,
I know there was an election the other day. I just don't want to talk
about it, k?
Wednesday
13 October
Heat
Today the
weather is going for a high of 37C (98.6F), a leetle on the hot side
for October. I'm glad to be in my house in my cool study under a fan.
Our office
is air conditioned but my particular space is in that bit that never
quite gets cooled. It's usually 5 or so more degrees in there than anywhere
else in the office. Still, I like the space I have. I have a lovely
tree outside and I can see sky, and I like sharing an office with Mike,
and for all these reasons I've never asked to move. I have a desk fan
and that gets me by in the heat of summer.
I note
with amusement that Nalo Hopkinson just brought her plants indoors for
the winter for the next seven months. Seven! Boy. I couldn't stand being
inside so much for that long of the year. My plants have to survive
in whatever weather we have. Yeah we give them water sometimes but with
water restrictions (we have a big drought) not all that much. Mostly
I have natives that thrive on the local conditions, though a lemon and
mandarin tree which like this climate do fine as well.
This
is the 4.2m, 300kg dead crocodile involved in the attack. Can you
imagine jumping on its (live) head? Nope, me neither.
That's
when Jason's mum came up and jumped on the croc
There was
a report yesterday about a 60-year old woman who jumped a 4.2m (12ft)
300kg crocodile and helped save a guy from being eaten in Cape York,
Queensland. When I first read this story I was incredulous. The bravery!
The group
was sleeping in tents 20m back from the water on Bathurst Bay, an isolated
beach 300k north of Cairns. That is usually reckoned to be far enough
away.
Everyone
was asleep at 4am and the croc just walked into tent and grabbed one
of the men. Presumably the one nearest the door? You can't fault them
for how they were behaving as crocs don't normally go that far away
from the shoreline.
This, the
most detailed account I've found, is from a
report in the local Courier-Mail, quoting Diane Kerr, the saved
man's wife:
"I
heard this thud and I got up and looked through the netting, and the
croc was right there, looking at us. I said, 'There's a croc, Andrew.'
['There's
a croc, Andrew'. That has to go down as a pretty insightful statement
as this point, right?]
"Then
the croc lunged at him. It came straight through the tent.
"The
croc was attacking him, and he was screaming, 'Get the baby, get the
baby.' The croc had Andrew by the legs and was dragging him out of
the tent. I picked up the bassinet and I had hold of it with one hand
and I had a hold on Andrew with the other. I was shouting, 'Andrew,
Andrew, Andrew,' while the croc was dragging him away. We all ended
up outside the tent. That's when Jason's mum came up and jumped on
the croc."
The Kerrs
and their three-month-old son Kelly were on a four-wheel-drive expedition
to the far north from Tingalpa in Brisbane's eastern suburbs with
another Brisbane family: Chandler couple Bill and Alicia Sorohan,
their son Jason, their daughter and son-in law, Wayne and Melinda
Clancy, of Greenbank, and the Clancy's two daughters, Kaitlyn, 6,
and Rhiannan, 3.
The well-equipped
party were experienced campers who had made the journey north through
Cairns and Cooktown to Cape York Peninsula every year for the past
five years.
This
year their target, as usual, was a fisherman's paradise called Bathurst
Bay, a north-facing strand of golden sand to the east of Prince Charlotte
on the western fringe of the Cape Melville National Park.
Early
this month, they set up their camp, as usual, around a clump of scraggly
wongi trees and coastal casuarinas on the beach about 20m from the
water. There were other campers along the beach and one of them, though
the Brisbane party was unaware of it then, would play a crucial role
in a drama that would engulf them all a few days later.
The Brisbane
group had set up their tents and a gazebo in a tight cluster around
the trees, were provisioned for days ahead and when they crept into
their tents on Sunday night there was no indication that within hours
they would face a drama that would embroil them in the ultimate human
nightmare and turn one of them, a 60-year-old grandmother, into a
heroine.
The crocodile,
a 4.2m, 300kg male, was watching, waiting, just metres away in the
water opposite the nearest of the tents – the one occupied by
the Kerrs. Its tracks would show that it came out of the water at
the shortest distance from the tent and headed straight for it. It
was 4am on a moonless night.
[So
it knew the tasty morsels were there, right? That's pretty damn scary.]
"What
happened next took perhaps two minutes. When Diane Kerr heard a thumping
noise outside in the darkness and rose to see the monster less than
two metres away, it was already set on its victim.
Andrew,
sleeping closest to the entrance, barely had time to register what
his wife was saying before the croc was on him, tearing at his body
and his legs and dragging him, screaming and his wife still clinging
to him, back towards the water. The camp erupted.
Bill
and Alicia Sorohan, camping just behind the Kerrs, were the first
to reach them.
"We
heard screams so we jumped up and raced out," Mr Sorohan said.
"Andrew wouldn't have had a chance to call out anything . . .
the croc had him in its mouth, but I think Alicia must have thought
it had the baby. She jumped on its back, just like that, and the croc
turned and bit her on the arm. I ran back to get an axe to have a
go at it, but by the time I got back – it was just a few seconds
– the croc was already dead."
When
Mrs Sorohan jumped the croc, Mr Kerr was already badly mauled. One
of his legs was smashed and mangled and his body was grotesquely punctured
and lacerated.
"There
were bits hanging off him," Wayne Clancy said. Mrs Sorohan, Mr
Clancy's mother-in-law, was also in bad shape. The croc had smashed
her face in its fury and had grabbed her by the arm, dragging her
away from Mr Kerr.
Her son,
Jason, was the saviour. Running up to the brute and his struggling
mother, he placed the barrel of a high-powered rifle against the back
of the crocodile's head and pulled the trigger. The crocodile died
instantly. Later, too distressed and shocked to mumble more than a
few words, he played down the incident.
"The
croc came through and scrubbed a couple of people, that's all,"
he said. "It snuck up when everyone was asleep. My mother jumped
on the croc's back and it let go of Andrew and latched on to her arm.
That's all that happened. The croc had a guy in its mouth and we shot
it. That was it. Over."
[This
is straight out of the Aussie guy's manual on how to describe the
time you killed a man eating croc, it's both hilarious and terrible
in its flatness.]
Mr Clancy
said the aftermath could have been worse without a stroke of fortune.
Using
an emergency position indicating radio beacon owned by others on the
beach, they were detected by two quarantine officers in the area,
who arrived about 90 minutes later in a helicopter with a medic.
"We'd
managed to patch up Andrew and Alicia with our own first-aid equipment
before they arrived, and he (Andrew) seemed in surprisingly good shape
when they came and took him away," Mr Clancy said.
Hours
later, after Mrs Sorohan also had been evacuated from the area to
Cairns, the group was hurriedly packing up, the strain of the ordeal
etched into their faces and the carcass of the crocodile still lying
where it had been shot.
Queensland
Parks and Wildlife Service officers who interviewed the group at the
site on Monday said there had been no reported attacks by crocodiles
in the area, but campers and fishermen who used beaches on Cape York
Peninsula were generally well aware of the potential dangers.
There
is speculation the attacking croc might have been attracted initially
to the beach, which is popular with anglers at this time of the year,
by fish carcasses thrown into the water."
There are
several interesting things about this story. First, the woman who saved
the man was astoundingly brave and at first I could hardly believe she'd
done it. It becomes more understandable when you know that the man taken
cried out and called to his wife to protect their baby. That's what
you'd expect most parents to do.
Another
remarkable thing is the distance from the water. Crocs do use oceans
to get from one watercourse to the next, as a "crocodile highway"
(shudder). You often hear of crocs swimming about in beaches and occasionally
they eat someone there, so that's not unusual.
But you
do think at that distance you're ok, they usually say 20m and up is
fine. Even croc experts are questioning what has happened to cause the
croc to go so far inland. Here's their
discussion.
The expert,
Gary Zillfleisch, said: "I'm certainly wondering why this particular
crocodile stopped and then made a very conscious decision to head
up the beach." Hmm.
Perhaps
the tasty smell of takeaway human? Actually the suggestion is that previous
campers or recreational fishers may have left raw meat, bait or fish
around the campsite and attracted crocs. Some people are incredibly
irresponsible.
Not that
I'm much of a camping afficianado, but that certainly puts me off any
outback camping ideas I may have had.
When I
found out that Alicia Sorohan apparently believed that the baby was
being attacked the whole thing made more sense to me. She may have even
thought it was her own grand-children under attack, who were there in
another tent.
Then I
castigated myself for being so sexist, if it had been a man I wouldn't
have blinked. But that's the way we're socialised isn't it. Older women
don't usually rescue younger men. Of course that's why the story got
so much attention in the first place. The actual hero of the piece is
Jason, who shot the croc with the rifle.
Just as well:
"GARY
ZILLFLEISCH: There's no way that that crocodile could've been divested
of its victim, except in this case they shot it, you see, because
if it's only that short distance they'll soon get you in the water,
and then they just hold their breath and you hold yours, and they're
going to win. They want to go and take a ticket in the lotto or something,
I can tell ya."
The other
cool thing is that the campers had everything they needed, except for
one, which another camping family at the same beach happened to have:
an emergency beacon.
Now if
you're reading this from somewhere overseas, you may not know this,
but most Australians are damn careful when going anywhere away from
civilisation. People - especially tourists - die every year from being
unprepared, even from something simple like going on a day trip by car
and not taking supplies. I'm talking rations, food, water, blankets,
compass, etc. You get bogged or a couple of flat tyres and you're dead
quick smart.
If you've
ever seen that Toni Collette movie Japanese Story you'll know
what I mean. (Good movie by the way; I recommend it).
This crowd
had, from the above story only (and I'm sure they had more):
- a rifle
(you know, the one Jason Sorohan used to kill the croc)
- an
axe (that Bill Sorohan ran to get)
- an
emergency beacon (that saved their lives by getting them to a hospital)
- first
aid equipment (that "patched them up" while they waited,
presumably for some time given their isolation, for help).
And how
plucky are these people? Diane, hanging on to her husband trying to
get him out of the croc's mouth. Bill, running to get an axe, presumably
to hit the croc with; Jason, shooting the croc, and Alicia, jumping
on its head. Man, they are cool. Bags go camping with them if I ever
am stupid brave adventurous enough to do so.
Okay, okay,
I'll give over about the croc now.
Hot today,
innit?
Mum
gets a fever
Today mum
had a bad fever, and slept nearly all day. This doesn't sound like much
but it was a deep, almost unconscious sleep and it's one of the signs
that she doesn't have much longer to live. Apparently there are defined
stages that brain tumour patients go through, not in the same order,
and not through each stage, and this is one of the ones nearer the end.
I am hoping
that the end will come at a time when I can get to Adelaide to be with
her. My Aunt says she wouldn't want me there to see her this way, but
I think she does. After all, mum gave my sister and me some money specifically
for the purpose of coming to be with her at the end, and I have no reason
to think her wishes have changed. But I do know she will understand
if I can't due to my chemo treatments.
She wouldn't
want me to endanger my own health to be there, that's for sure. So I'm
left hoping that the timing works out ok. Given how appalling this year
has been, it's kind of inevitable that it won't.
Monday
18 October
Mum's
decline
Today mum
has had difficulty swallowing, and her arms are getting more contracted.
She can hardly use her hands at all now. Through all of this she is
still aware, though she can hardly communicate much any more. When I
spoke with her the other day the first thing she said was, how's your...?
I said, 'chemo?" she said, "yes".
That's
amazing.. she's so ill, and all she wants to know is how I am.
Vendetta
against my mum finally comes to an end
This is
something both wonderful and appalling. It's a long story, but hang
with me.
I'm not
going to name the villain of this story, I'll just call him X here.
In the
late 60s, X went to Japan and studied with Dr Suzuki. He came back to
Australia and started teaching here, but not using parents. Just kids
on their own in the teaching studio. This is not Suzuki method, but
just using the Suzuki repertoire.
However,
X did begin teaching with mothers and all the other elements of Suzuki
not much later and went on to become prominent in the Suzuki scene in
Autralia.
In 1971,
my dad, Peter Komlos, went to Japan and studied with Dr Suzuki for several
months on a Winston Churchill Fellowship. Now I'm sure that wouldn't
have happened if the X trip hadn't occurred first: his trip was instrumental
in Dad finding out about the method, through Rex Hobcroft, the then
Director of the Tasmanian Conservatorium.
In any
case, when dad returned, he began teaching the full method, including
use of parents, training mums first before the children learn, listening
to recordings, individual plus group lessons, using box violins for
beginners.. absolutely everything they were doing in Japan at the time.
X started
saying he was the first to teach Suzuki method in Australia. Dad thought
this was wrong, when X hadn't even incorporated parents into the method.
A bit like saying you do yoga, but never hold poses.
Dad mentioned
to a few people that he thought he was the first to teach the method
proper. Not in a nasty spirit, you understand, more in the way of a
factual comment, and wanting to be recognised for his own achievements.
Naturally
this annoyed X. Anyone would be annoyed in his place I'm sure.. it wasn't
very diplomatic of dad to say the least.
X then
began a life long vendetta against dad, and extended it to my mum, me
and my sister. Everything he could do to make our lives difficult, he
did. Sometimes by omission, and sometimes by commission.
I can understand
his dislike of dad. True criticisms hurt the worst, and dad can certainly
be faulted for making a big deal of it. After all it hardly matters
who was first.
It's hard
to understand X's shoddy treatment of us all, and the person who suffered
the most was my mum. After we moved to Adelaide she and I began the
Suzuki Association there (in 1979). Naturally enough she wanted to do
teacher training for new teachers.
She was
never given teacher training standing.
This may
not sound very shocking to you but consider this. In 1979, there were
very few Suzuki teachers in Australia. Mum had been involved with the
method since 1971 and had taught a full studio of students for years.
She was degree qualified in music with decades of professional performing
experience in Europe and Australia.
At that
time there was little formal teacher training program in Australia,
though there were steps happening towards it in Sydney. Mum had learned
how to teach from dad, who learned it from Dr Suzuki himself, so I think
her training was quite thorough enough.
Several
people of similar experience, with playing ability and teaching experience
were given teacher tranining standing at that time without needing to
complete a formal training program themselves. After all, the training
had to start somehwere.
There wouldn't
have been many more suitable people than mum to teacher train in the
country at the time. There was no one else in Adelaide to do it.
Then a
couple of years after this refusal, a Sydney teacher Y moved to Adelaide,
and soon as this was announced X made sure he had a teacher training
certificate, just like that.
This meant
Y could train teachers, while mum couldn't. I guess X's motive was to
make sure Y had more influence in Adelaide than mum. It was ludicrous:
mum had by then trained half a dozen teachers anyway, who then had to
go and do it again with Y to get their official recognition. She trained
them so that she could develop her Suzuki Violin School, which carries
on to this day with half a dozen teachers and hundreds of students.
That's
one reason why getting the Suzuki Association of the Americas award
for starting Suzuki Chat was so incredibly powerful for her. She felt
it was a recognition of her lifetime's work, and was so very moved and
honoured by it.
Anyway.
A few months
back, when mum knew she was going to die of brain cancer, she phoned
someone else, Z, high up in the Sydney Suzuki Assocation and asked outright
to be given the Diploma at last. She told Z all about how X had persecuted
her for years, that she had a brain tumour, and that she thought it
was unfair that this had been withheld for so long.
Z was sympathetic
and amazed to hear of X's nasty actions, since he is generally held
in high regard for his considerable contribution to Suzuki in Australia.
And yesterday,
mum was awarded a Diploma of Teacher Training in absentia at the annual
Suzuki concert at the Opera House. Today, Monica Christian visited mum
to give it to her, making her very happy.
Mum may
only have a few days or weeks to live, so it's useless now, and yet
it was a bittersweet triumph over X.
Pity he
had to be shamed by her illness into doing it. I expect that Z
was the one who made it happen, and that it was finally impossible for
X to withhold it further without admitting the pathetic, small-minded
reason.
I hope
that he is ashamed of himself for conducting a 33-year vendetta against
someone who didn't deserve it.
Firstly,
she wasn't the one who initially made the remark that so upset X.
And secondly,
she taught Suzuki for nearly 30 years, built up a thriving school, ran
all kinds of fantastic events, summer schools, concerts, tours; and
produced literally thousands of fabulous students and dozens of teachers
through her school over the years.
Apparently
X did not see any of this as relevant and thought it entirely a | 
