It’s 6 am and warm water is leaking out of the top of my aged but previously trustworthy hotwater service…..It’s seeping all over the floor of the laundry and has reached the carpet in the hallway.   Perhaps there was a bang which woke me up, as it doesn’t seem to have been going for long, but it is running very fast…

I’ve tried turning off the tap at the main – but nothing is working….it’s still leaking and has been doing so for two hours.   Waiting for someone from Rheem to call me back I find myself cursing that I’d hadn’t agreed to RACV Emergency Home Assist when on a call about home insurance the sales consultant suggested it to me a few weeks ago…

Water is everywhere, why won’t it stop pouring out of the water heater???…

It’s times like this that living alone is troublesome…. The water is still coming out, two and a half hours later…. there’s no one else to wait for him to come.  I want to go to Collectors and Writing Workshop at U3A today… should I ever hear back from a plumber who can come and stop the water….

Why won’t it stop?….

When I eventually speak to someone at Rheem, they say that if it’s leaking from the top it will definitely need to be replaced, that it will keep running until the source of the problem is reached in terms of the level…OMG!
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I thought turning off the water would be the thing to do…. but it’s still running …
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I have been trying to get help now for two and a half hour.   My brother in law, who lives on a farm half an hour out of town,  confirmed the need to turn off the mains water and seemed okay about my turning off the hot water at the electricity meter board.   This was confirmed by the local electrician who eventually responded to a referral by Rheem….  He’s trying to get a plumber for me… apparently…

Meanwhile, the water is still running!

…. Stewart the plumber has finally arrived… strong handshake, used my name…. I’m feeling better already! Stewart assesses the situation quickly… it has “definitely gone”…. he’s turned off the input tap and the release valve…. He needs a torch!  I don’t have one… my phone has one but we couldn’t work out how to use it….but he’s now collected his from his car with his tool kit.  

I'm asked for a length of garden hose….I had one near by and Stewart's now draining the water out into the garden and has just checked that I did isolate the hot water service. 

Bang, bang, tap, tap, knock, knock, twirl….Stewart’s calling to let the electrician know what is happening… ‘I’m in the cupboard now’ (the hot water unit is in a cupboard off my toilet).

Stewart tells me that the unit was installed in 1989… it seems that 28 years is a good innings for a hot water heater!

I’ve been living in the house for nearly 20 years, so have realised that at some time I might have problems with my trusty hot water service…. Well, today was the day.   A failed hot water service I is a heavy expense on a pension.   Fortunately I can manage this time, and it should ‘last me out’.  

It’s all systems go….  Stewart will be back at 1pm which means that I can go to Collectors!  I need to be there as I have the end of year slide show to screen on the computer…..  I’ll have to leave the door open…. … as the hose needs to drain out… such is life. 
 
Maybe I’ll even get to Writing Workshop for at least some of the time and be able to share this story?


Bev Lee
November 2017

My breathing is laboured, I cough, and the coughing doesn’t let up.   I can’t sleep and my asthma inhaler doesn’t seem to be helping at all.  

Three days of coping with a sudden pollen storm in Benalla; the realization dawns that I am not able to manage my asthma at home alone.   Exhausted, I head to the ‘urgent care’ section of the Benalla Hospital.   I explain to the triage nurse that I haven’t been able to control my asthma and think perhaps I might need the nebuliser.

It’s 7 in the morning and the nurses are having a lull and just about to handover to staff on the day roster. 

Somehow they manage to take my details while not delaying the nebuliser.  My oxygen levels are low, blood pressure and pulse racing, and my chest clearly rattling as they tell me to breathe deeply while listening carefully with the stethoscope.  They decide on an ECG, attach the little pads-- obviously something unusual  is happening with my heart.  I explain to them that I’m exhausted, that I haven’t slept properly for three nights.  Episodes of using ventolin with a spacer alternate with episodes on the nebuliser.  Phone calls to the oncall doctor lead to medications being prepared and the decision being made to admit me to hospital.

As I wait for admission, another patient arrives.  Listening to his interview it’s clear that his asthma episode came on as mine had, three days ago, and that he has also become worried as he hasn't been able to manage it himself. 

The staff, the doctor on call and eventually the doctor from my own clinic, work hard to settle me.  It is a relief to find myself transported by wheel chair to my bed for the next two days, where there is further information gathering by my duty nurse for the day. 

One question ‘Is there any particular service you would like to see while you’re here?’ resonates - I realise that I need to see a physiotherapist.  There have been times in my life when a physiotherapist’s intervention had set me back on track to be able to manage my asthma.  I realise that somehow something has changed significantly in the nature of my respiratory problems and that I need more help.

The crisis over, the next morning the physiotherapist followed not long after the doctor.  As she quietly assessed me by astute questionning, I interrupted to explain to her that I’d had regular involvement as a child and young person with physiotherapists.    As a little girl, my mother would take me, with baby sister Janette in a pram and year older brother John, on the train, then tram, from Clayton to the Royal Children Hospital to have physiotherapy sessions.  Then, as a teenager, a physiotherapist had taught me diaphragm breathing, which many people learn while doing yoga – this stood me in good stead until recently.

I won’t bore you with more detail, but I think the physiotherapist has led me to better understand the way my lungs are working these days – to understand what I need to do to free up obstructions in my lungs, as it is very clear that I now have exacerbations of asthma to the level of chronic obstructive pulmonary disease when pollen events occur.
 
Right here, right now, two weeks later, I’m still not quite right, but I have some new strategies and a referral to the Pulmonary Rehabiliation course when a space becomes available. 

Right here, right now, I wonder if pollen storm prone Benalla is the right place for me to live – or perhaps I just need to leave town for six weeks in October and November.
 
I’m certainly planning a trip somewhere near the ocean to help my lungs to heal!
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Bev Lee
November 2017