Sunny Mildura

We had a great day in Mildura yesterday, Ms Mills and I. Having been reassured by Maurice, our pilot, that the winds were nothing the little Cessna -cabin about as big as Heather's Nissan Micra - couldn't handle, we took of with great enthusiasm. Man, the Western District is wet. Dams are overflowing, rivers are full (Cavendish looked like an island). I enjoyed the view all the way ...to Glenisla, when I decided I should do some journal reading.

Maurice was right. The wind settled down, Ms Mills went to sleep in the back seat and we flew on. And on. This was a little plane, and the flight to Mildura lasted a whole 2.5 hours.

At this time of year, though, the climate up there is enough to make one consider moving. Twenty-two sunny degrees. Shame I had a busy day of patients booked at the Aboriginal Health Cooperative. This time we landed before the Qantaslink flight from Melbourne and, hastening towards one of the two waiting taxis, were whisked to the co-op without delay. Ms Mills was impressed by the fragrantly clean facilities as I enjoyed meeting up with the local staff, who are gradually becoming valued colleagues. All irony aside, they do a fantastic job with extraordinary levels of commitment.

Shame the patients don't always show up. On a day like yesterday, who can blame them? I wouldn't chose to go to see the doctor if the option was to sit soaking up the late-winter, warming sun. They stayed away in droves.

So my favourite Irish nurse, Mrs Mac and I (the three of us. Mrs Mac is not Irish) sat down to hatch a plan. I was greatly impressed that Mrs Mac was keen to push on - in spite of the lack of support from the breathless, snoring coughers in the community to our service. We began to think expansively. Let's open the service up; encourage referrals of non-indigenous as well as indigenous people. Offer what we do to the entire Mildura and regional community from our base at the co-op.

At least that was the gist of it. The conversation was after lunch, so I had to keep notes. Too much sunshine to go with lunch at the Sun Brewery left me struggling to get my head back in the game.

Not Ms Mills though. She cherished a good hour or two castigating my favourite Irish nurse for forgetting the difference between reproducibility and repeatability in spirometry (she likes that kind of stuff) and was on a high when time came for goodbye.

Come three o'clock and it was all over. Ms Mills and I bid farewell, looking forward to returning in a few weeks. As those days get longer we might be able to round off the day with a happy-hour at the Sun. The flight south was a flight back into the rain - over Balmoral and the Douglas mine. Jackets back on, back home.

I love my job.

Andrew