Heavy lifting and hernias

heavy-lifting-hernias
Bob avoids heavy lifting by hiding out in the garage

On Monday afternoon, two wiry young men backed a furniture van into our driveway and began unloading our goods and chattels. My nephew’s wise words rang in my ears – “Hopefully the movers are doing all the heavy lifting, Uncle – LOL.”

One of these blokes was wearing a knee brace. I made a mental note to ask him about it, as furniture removalists are prone to injury, hernias in particular.It turned out he had injured his knee playing soccer with his kids (sound familiar?) As you may have read (see link at the end) I had serious knee injuries in the late 1960s, so now go to some trouble to avoid doing anything which might inflame either of my knees.

Apart from our furniture, we had approximately 110 packing boxes of various sizes and weights. I did not lift any of these boxes, which came off the truck on a trolley and down a ramp four or five at a time.

Those two lads deserve a medal. Their day started early, loading the truck from a storage unit in our former town. Then they drove four hours via back roads (the Cunningham Highway was closed). It was also very hot and humid but they persevered with the work until finished. We directed traffic – put this here, take that there, but mainly instructed them to stack boxes in the garage.

As a bonus, these lads put our two beds together, having no clue as to how much domestic angst was avoided in the process. (They seemed surprised, but pleased that we presented them with a slab of beer. They promised not to drink it on the way home.)

Once they left, it became apparent how difficult it would be for two people over 70 to stick to a self-imposed ban on lifting anything heavier than 20kg.

When I had an inguinal hernia repaired in 2004, the surgeon at Nambour Hospital assured me it was so common he had done 600 repairs that year alone.

As I recall, he said the injury was most common in furniture removalists and farmers (and sedentary office workers). An inguinal hernia occurs when part of the lower intestine protrudes though the inguinal canal. The injury commonly occurs through straining (e.g. improper lifting, constipation or persistent coughing). Wind instrument players (trumpet, saxophone) are also prone to inguinal hernias.

Check out Weird Al’s disco tribute to hernias.

In my case, the hernia dated from when I bought an old ex-government desk (a heavy one with a metal frame).

“Bend your knees and don’t strain,” I instructed my son, “or you’ll give yourself a hernia.” At the first ‘one, two, go’ I felt something pop in my groin area. Next day I had a noticeable lump. Our family GP at the time took hold of the lump and told me to cough – twice.

“Yep, it’s a hernia. You’ll need to get it repaired eventually.”

He did not put any time frame on this, other than to add that if I had excruciating pain, get to hospital ASAP because sometimes hernias become strangulated.

So in May 2005 I took two weeks’ sick leave to recover from the operation. On returning to work, I found that sitting down for eight hours was very uncomfortable. I bought one of those doughnut cushions commonly found in nursing homes.

Last year, Australian surgeons repaired 100,000 hernias and many more went undetected or ignored. The lifetime risk for males is about 1 in 5 (1-50 for females). In 90% of cases, surgeons use a fine nylon mesh patch to reinforce the muscle wall of the lower abdomen, as it greatly reduces the risk of recurrence.

Updating my 14 year old story, I discovered a new medical term – ‘mesh migration’. This is when (in 5% of cases), the mesh insert moves to another part of the lower abdomen. While relatively rare, the problem does exist and can occur years after the operation. Most of the literature is contained in medical journals, but I did find one or two in blogs generated my personal injury lawyers.

Occasional groin twinges and aching knees aside, at 71 I am still relatively fit and agile. The test, as Billy Connolly once quipped, is how long it takes you to get out of a bean bag.

When moving boxes to the relevant room, we employed a much-used luggage trolley – a big one with rubber wheels. When something felt like a two person lift, I would summon She Who Had a Laminectomy Years Ago and we carefully manoeuvred the object onto said trolley.

There are good reasons to avoid heavy lifting or poorly executed lifting.

In 2013, musculoskeletal injuries comprise 90% of claims made to Worksafe Australia (our workers’ compensation organisation).

As Axis Rehab notes, lower back injuries make up the large majority of work-related injuries. They can range from less serious muscle strains, or joint sprains, to more serious injuries (disc prolapses).

“These injuries can occur from a traumatic event, but can just as often result from something as innocuous as rotating to reach for something, bending to tie a shoe lace, or picking up something unexpectedly heavy or awkward.” (So, Bob, forget about carrying me over the threshold-Ed.)

Most injuries involve large and complex joints – shoulders, hips, knees, ankles and wrists. The modern answer to chronic knee and hip paint is to replace the joint with an artificial one. If you live long enough, you may need a second one! A large study by The Lancet, which used thousands of cases in Australia, concluded that the average life span of a hip or knee replacement is 15 years.

An article in New Daily stated that hip and knee procedures are the most common type of joint replacement surgeries in Australia. More than 850,000 hip and knee replacements have been recorded in the past 20 years,

The Australian Orthopaedic Association’s National Joint Replacement Registry last year reported 63,577 knee procedures and 47,621 hip procedures,

The anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) injury is the one all professional sports people fear more than most and not just because of the intense pain. It can take six to nine months to recover full mobility after an ACL reconstruction, as the graft needs time to heal. Australia now leads the world in the number of ACL joint reconstructions.

A Medical Journal of Australia study of ACL injuries found that the incidence is rapidly increasing among young people. During the study period, (2000-2015) 197,557 primary ACL reconstructions were performed. The annual incidence increased by 43 during the study period and by 74% among those under 25 years of age. Direct hospital costs of ACL reconstruction surgery were estimated to be $142 million.

The big question is whether a young person who has had an ACL reconstruction (or two) will need a knee replacement in the future. The cost disparities are obvious. In 2013, some 400,000 inpatient primary hip and knee procedures cost Medicare more than $7 billion for hospitalisations alone. Medicare spent an average of $16,500 to $33,000 per patient for the surgery, hospitalisation, and recovery from hip and knee replacements.

Apart from being costly to the nation (and private health funds), knee replacements are quite radical operations. I know a few people for whom they did not go smoothly. Given my chequered history of knee surgery, I have decided that unless I am literally unable to walk, I will take my old knees to the grave. You read it here first.

https://bobwords.com.au/septuagenarian-motorbike-dreams/

Thanks to those who have joined the annual subscriber drive to keep FOMM on the road. If it slipped your memory, here is the link.

https://bobwords.com.au/friday-on-my-mind-subscriber-drive-2019/

Who the Hell Approved That?

“I used to like the city better, thirty forty years ago’ South Brisbane circa 1973, before the Cultural Centre, Expo 88 and proliferating apartments.

The Cheeseparer family from Victoria, fed up with the overpopulated rat race, spent the school holidays cruising the south east Queensland coast, looking for a more ambient place to live than the far-flung commuter suburbs of greater Melbourne.

Margolia and Basil Jnr are sick of Melbourne’s unpredictable weather, the traffic, the pollution, the high cost of living and the four-hour daily commutes (including dropping the kids off at school and picking them up from daycare). They also want to be closer to the Cheeseparer oldies, Basil and Sybil (previously cited in this forum), who have retired to a 77th floor apartment on the Gold Coast (which has a spacious guest room with four bunks and a sofa bed in the lounge).

So they set off on a road trip, boring the four Cheeseparer kids witless with their obsessive pursuit of a green change.

Somewhere between the Sunshine Coast and Brisbane, Dylan, 11, and a bit of a smartarse, looked out the window at a new estate. He provided the family with a pithy description: “a sea of roofs with nary a tree to be seen, tucked not so discreetly behind an acoustic fence running along the motorway”.

“Who the hell approved that?” he added.

“You can’t say hell – it’s a bad word,” said April, 6.

Margolia said: “Lots of religious people believe there is a place called Hell, so it is a place name, not a curse.

“But I was using it as a curse,” said Dylan.

“I know, let’s play a game”, Dylan continued. “First one to say something clever and cynical about any new housing estates we see gets a point. Winner gets more Face Time”.

“This is dumb,” came the voice of Max Cheeseparer, 15, banished to the Prado’s luggage compartment with Edie the Golden Retriever for saying negative things like “this is dumb”.

“Good tsunami will see that lot out,” muttered Eric, 13, not only bored but observant, as the Cheeseparer’s Prado cruised past a new coastal estate separated from the highway by a levy.

Paper bag”, Dylan retorted.

“Yep, looks like someone drained a Teatree swamp,” said Basil Jnr.

“Not fair,” said April. “Adults cannot play.”

Well actually, adults should be playing this game when house hunting in the sprawling conurbation between Noosa and Coolangatta which makes up the greater metropolis of Bris Vegas. In the proliferating new estates, so often set next to freeways, generic housing design prevails, each home dominated by a two car garage and sited on allotments as small as 400sqm , depending which local government is setting the rules. The theory behind smaller lots is that it makes housing more affordable.

Who the Hell Approved That allocates points for the inventiveness of commentary, e.g. “Nice green buffer, mate” when clearly the trees have gone to Japan to make paper. A bonus point is awarded to the first to invoke The Castle’s famous quote: “Tell them they’re dreaming”. The latter usually applies upon seeing billboards announcing “house and land packages from $659,000”.

Be assured this is a game you can play anywhere in Australia and not just in the big cities of Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane. One of the things you notice when following the grey nomad trail is just how few country towns have been left untouched by the cookie cutter form of new housing development built on the outskirts  Many of these houses are sold off the plan with rental guarantees; bought by out-of-town investors. In the mania of the moment, no-one looks ahead 24 months and wonders “now what?”

There is a vast difference in vision between those steeped in the concept of sustainability and protecting the environment and the State government’s mantra ‘Jobs and Growth’.

The 2017 SEQ Plan forecasts an additional two million people by 2025 (bringing the region’s population to 5.5 million). Queensland’s target annual population growth (fertility+interstate migration), hoped for 3% per annum.

The State still boasts an average 2.2% over 10 years, although in recent years the population growth numbers have fallen below 2%. Perhaps the interstate migrants, in their desire to flee the rate race, have realised it is just as ratty across the border.

Residential real estate analyst Michael Matusik commented on figures released by the government which estimate that the Gold Coast, Ipswich and Logan are expected to accommodate 73% of the new housing development across south east Queensland.  The Sunshine Coast and Brisbane City Council areas are forecast to hold an additional 10% each. The three municipalities are expected to generate an additional 298,000 dwellings.

Matusik noted that 82% of the new housing on the Gold Coast and 57% in Ipswich will be higher density (apartments), which is ‘‘much higher than current market demand’’.

The growth mantra has spoiled the character and amenity of countless suburbs in Brisbane. I lived there for 17 years, leaving for a smaller town in 2005 with no desire to return. I certainly have no capacity to buy there again, with a median price of $680,000.

The rot started with local governments deciding to relax planning rules so people with a house on a quarter acre allotment (once common), could sub-divide the block and put a second house on it (with an easement for access). This approach has degenerated into what is generically called ‘infill’, which in some inner city Brisbane suburbs mean allotments as small as 300sqm. These tiny house allotments are sought after, given that they represent a foothold in an otherwise unaffordable location (anywhere you have ‘city glimpses’).

In the 2017 report, Shaping SEQ, Deputy Premier Jackie Trad enshrines the vision that requires a population growth target.

“It is not difficult to see why the population of South East Queensland is expected to grow by almost 2 million people over the next 25 years. We have an enviable lifestyle, great schools and universities, and a strong, diverse economy expected to create almost one million jobs over the next 25 years. Our future is bright”.

This is not the only reason we moved to a country town two hours’ drive from Brisbane, but it was one of the motivators.

A reader who had been following our downsizing exercise with great interest wrote to relate her own experience in growth-mad Brisbane. Her aim was to sell the big family home in an outlying suburb and move closer to the city. But now she is spooked by falling sales volumes.

My friend also observes that prices are ‘predatory’ for inner Brisbane, with buyers made to feel ashamed if they are not up for the $750k starting point. So this empty nester, realising how little housing is designed for the over-50s downsizer market, has withdrawn from what she suspects is a static market, waiting for something to happen.

Meanwhile, the tree-changers are continuing the elusive search for a small town that has the infrastructure, ambience, affordability and the potential to commute to jobs in the city as needed. In theory, the brave new world of tele-commuting should make this lifestyle viable for people whose work revolves around consulting, writing, giving people advice and preparing documents.

A housing policy designed to facilitate and enhance this increasing desire to escape the rat race could in turn re-populate and rejuvenate small towns which might otherwise die. How about it, Anna?

Misheard lyrics and a sentimental playlist

sentimental-playlist
The author (and dog) contemplating the next move

Last Sunday, as we performed my only country song, Crossroads of Love, I allowed myself a sly inward chuckle at the misheard lyric (well, I mishear it): “So I look for directions in the stars high above’’.

It’s the kind of misheard line you’d expect of a 70-year-old bloke, but I’m not about to elaborate. This is a family show.

My songwriter friend Kelly Cork likes the song; he thinks it is a sin of omission that is has not caught the attention of a Kasey Chambers or a Garth Brooks. I always thought it was a bit corny, but it seems you can get away with corny in the country genre.

You will have to permit me a sentimental wallow this week, as I sit here at a bare desk with the laptop (and the dog) – literally the last things to be packed away. I dismantled all of my music-playing technology weeks ago, so now all I have is a tiny IPod with 1700 songs plugged into the car.

Music was uppermost on our minds last Sunday when, against common sense, we held a full-house farewell house concert with just two days remaining to finish packing.

We invited hinterland musician friends to perform: Jevan Cole, Karen and Murray Law, Tommy Leonard, Noel Gardner and Alex Bridge and Kelly Cork. A sumptuous afternoon tea was provided by the audience (Laurel had packed away her baking trays).

The Goodwills Trio ended the day with a set culminating in a medley of well-known travel songs. Not a dry eye in the house! Thanks to Helen Rowe for going the extra mile to get to rehearsals. Thanks also to Woodfordia Inc for sponsoring our concerts over the years.

In the fullness of time, we’ll be producing a history of our house concert series – the first one in Brisbane in 1996, when Margret RoadKnight agreed to be our guest. We held 40 or 50 concerts at Fairfield when we lived there and another 90 or so from the first one in Maleny in 2003 (Margret RoadKnight featured once again).

If you missed out leaving a comment in the guest book that was passed around, you could join the many people who have emailed us with comments about our house concerts. The plan is to print them out and paste them into the book.

This week, I decided to answer the question I get asked a lot about my (songwriting) influences. They are too many to count, although most will be appalled by the omission of Dylan, Springsteen and other mainstream songwriters from this top 20 Spotify list.

Bob’s Spotify Playlist (courtesy of Frankie’s Dad) There are Spotify instructions below, but if you’d rather, FD has also compiled a YouTube playlist

1/ White Winos – LWIII (Last Man on Earth)

Loudon Wainwright’s ever-so slightly wrong tribute to his mother with the last line of every verse left hanging;

2/ Disembodied Voices – Neil and Tim Finn (Everybody’s Here)

New Zealand’s best songwriters reminisce about their childhood growing up in a musical household.

3/ Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner – Warren Zevon (Genius), the title of the song says it all, the ultimate ballad about mercenaries.

4/ A Case of You– (k.d. lang’s version of Joni’s classic song), from Hymns of the 49th Parallel, a magnificently produced album of contemporary Canadian songs;

5/ Clare to Here (Ralph McTell) – poignant tale from Ralph’s early days as a builder’s labourer, as told here in this 2007 live performance;

6/ It’s Raining – Stephen Cummings – from the album Spiritual Bum, a beautiful album of songs from the former lead singer of The Sports (and hopefully an omen);

7/ They Thought I Was Asleep – Paul Kelly – classic story song from Australia’s best – and we’ll never know what happened!

8/ Our Sunshine – Paul Kelly – included here for its brilliant first line ‘So there came a man on a stolen horse and he rode right onto the page.’

(Ed: And as what I think is an interesting aside, Ned Kelly’s horse was named ‘Mirth’.)

 9/ Who Know Where the Time Goes – Sandy Denny.

The story is that a young Sandy Denny had the words to this beautiful ballad in her guitar case and it had to be prised from her by Fairport Convention band members who immediately saw its potential;

10 Cold Kisses – Richard Thompson.

This sly story about an insecure man in a new relationship is only bettered by a guitar hook no-one I know has ever been able to reproduce;

11 Took the Children Away – Archie Roach

Seriously, this should be taught at schools;

12 Cry you a Waterfall – Kristina Olsen

Kristina Olsen typically tells a hilarious story before she sings this tribute to a friend taken in an automobile accident. It’s a fine performance technique when you catch people at their most vulnerable;

13/ Say a Prayer – Fred Smith

A tragic love story woven into a snippet of Australian history of war in the Pacific;

14/ Cat’s in the Cradle – Harry Chapin

My song Watching as You Sleep has a similar theme to Harry’s lament about  not having enough time for your kids when they are growing up and then the worm turns (‘he turned out a lot like me’)

15/ Lives in the Balance – Jackson Brown

It was always a wonder to me how this stinging critique of American interference in other countries’ politics is not better-known.

16/ The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down – The Band

Robbie Robertson’s well-researched story about the American Civil War, told from a Southern family’s point of view. It has a peculiar but effective rhythmic structure, as explained in the link below.

17/ Hello in There – John Prine

The master of brevity and nuance tells a Cat’s in the Cradle type story about a lonely old couple: ‘We had an apartment in the city – me and Loretta liked living there.’

18/ Sailing to Philadelphia – Mark Knopfler and James Taylor

The story behind the Mason Dixon line, splendidly rendered by two of the world’s best songwriters;

19/ Soldiers’ Things – Tom Waits – the growling poet of life on skid row at his best here: ‘Everything’s a dollar, in this box.’

20/ Paradise – John Prine

Prine’s anti-fossil fuel anthem from a childhood in western Kentucky.

Here’s an extra song, but it’s not on Spotify. It fits well with Paradise – “If you’ve got money in your pocket and a switch on the wall, we’ll keep your dirty lights on.”. Watch and listen here:

Keep your dirty lights on – Tim O’Brien and Darrell Scott.

The refrains of both songs deserve to be sung out loud at next Friday’s Strike 4 Climate rallies.

So, while the homeless Goodwills wander off to the south-western plains, let it be known that you will never find our music on Spotify. Not until they lift the streaming royalties by a respectable margin. Despite its reputation as a music distributer that short-changes musicians, Spotify is an incredibly user-friendly, massive musical database. No wonder at last count they had 217 million subscribers (including the free accounts).

Next week: Expect FOMM late next Friday as I will be attending the Strike 4 Climate rally in Brisbane – an eyewitness report!

 

Four in 10 Australians Move Every Five Years

on-the-move
Does this look familiar?

You were warned that FOMM would be ruminating about the not-uncommon human need to periodically pack up and move on. We are not alone. Over 40% of Australians moved house at least once between one Census and the other and the ratio is higher still for younger people.

According to the 2016 Census conducted by the Australian Bureau of Statistics, 43.4% of the overall population moved house between 2011 and 2016. Young people (20-29) were the most nomadic, with a third moving every year and two thirds moving within five years. These statistics are always rising, one Census after the other. Our imminent move (two weeks) will be recorded in the data collected for the 2021 Census (How did that come around so quickly?)

In a large country with six States and two Territories, it’s a fair bet the move is associated with work. I recall jamming around an outback campfire with a banjo-playing electrician who had left Rockhampton, where a contract had come to an end, hoping to get work in Darwin, where at the time there were many large construction projects.

No doubt that young fellow would belong to the cohort who rent houses. About a third of Australians rent houses or apartments, moving on average every three years. Some move because of a change of circumstance (work, a new baby, an opportunity to move to a better place), but many are forced to move because (a) the landlord is selling (b) they have been evicted for various reasons or (c) the rent went up and they need something cheaper.

Australia’s 1,100 self-storage sites do very well out of this constant moving and so do the movers who transport goods back and forth. Those forced to move at short notice have no option but to store their goods and chattels until they can find a place big enough to reclaim their stuff. A common story (from those moving from big family homes to two or three bedroom apartments), is that there will never be enough room for the piano and Mum’s antique bedroom suite. Those on a fixed income may also struggle to find an affordable home large enough to keep the possessions they have accumulated.

The rental market is controlled by people who are accumulating wealth by investing in real estate. Even without buying investment houses, many Australians have become well-off by renovating and selling their principal place of residence, on average every seven years (the period during which houses supposedly double in value).

Homeowners, too, have reasons aplenty for moving; a new job (in a new State), moving in with elderly parents to become care-givers and of course the moves brought on when one in two marriages end in divorce. Few formerly married couples manage to co-habit under the same roof ‘for the sake of the kids’, so someone has to move.  Moving adds to the stress, anxiety and sense of dislocation that comes with a marital split. It sucks, and what nobody tells you beforehand is how hard it is for a single person (the majority of divorcees are people in their 40s), to find new digs. You’re too old for a share house, a boarding house seems like the dark side of the street and there is no way you are ready to shack up with someone new, are you?

Whether your last move was five 10 or even 17 years ago, the stress and chaos of packing stays with you.

Our downstairs room is a bit like the refrain in Kelly Cork’s song: “It’s all in boxes now, ready to go.”  Even when you’re not a hoarder (we both like to keep things that might come in handy), moving after 17 years is a bit of a brain scrambler.

A reader who lives in north Queensland described moving after 30 years from the cane farm where she and her husband had raised a family. They moved to a new but smaller property in a nearby town.

“I know the time, effort and energy that go into packing after such a long time being in one place.  Vinnies was very happy with me when we moved!”

We also found this to be so, separating things into that which could be sold, given away or taken to the transfer station (2019 term for a rubbish dump). A young woman took our old canvas tent off our hands, saying her plan was to take the kids camping (to get their heads out of their devices). It was a bargain, but we figure there’s a lot of karma there.

Absolutely no-one wanted our very large entertainment unit with its small fixed space for a TV. We took it apart and drove to the aforementioned transfer station. Only later I thought “Gee, the Men’s Shed might have wanted the solid timber top.”

I had an asthma attack while sifting through old, dusty tax records.  In case you did not know, you have to keep personal tax files for five years; business files should be kept for seven years and 10 years for self-managed superannuation fund records.

So, a lot of shredding and burning later (shredded paper makes great packing material for fragile items), I pulled a huge plastic bin from under the desk labelled ‘Bob’s journalism files’. Damn, did I not go through this exercise once already? I previously scanned, printed and filed in folders the 150 or so columns I wrote for the Toowoomba Chronicle in the 1980s. The late Bert Pottinger, who wrote a weekly column into his mid-eighties, encouraged me to try my hand. Thanks for starting me on a path, Bert. It surprised me to learn that even then I referred to the other half as variations on ‘She Who Makes Her Own Yoghurt’. It’s not meant to be disrespectful, just an expansion of a catch phrase invented by John Mortimer, whose crusty old barrister Horace Rumpole was wont to refer to his wife Hilda as: ‘She who must be obeyed’.

We have complicated our tight packing deadline by performing at this week’s Maleny Music Festival (tomorrow at 11.45am), throwing a private house concert/party, driving to Brisbane for a ballet and then to the Neurum Creek Festival on September 13-15.

The majority of our cohort (people aged 70 and over), wish to ‘age in place’, particularly the 75% of older people who own their houses outright. This gives them options when it comes to downsizing to more manageable properties. In some circumstances, older people will need to sell their house to fund a move into retirement villages or aged care facilities. Sometimes the elderly and not-so elderly struck down by dementia are moved into the aforesaid ‘facilities’ without much say in the matter.

As so many people have said to us on hearing our moving-on story, it is better to do it now (at 70, fit and healthy), than have it forced upon you.

Some locals just don’t understand why we’d want to move away from the hinterland, where after 17 years we are still relative newcomers.

But as the famous Eccles said, when Neddie Seagoon asked why he was in the coal cellar: “Everybody’s gotta be somewhere”.

FOMM backpages: https://bobwords.com.au/one-persons-rubbish-anothers-treasure/