
Driving on the road to Rotorua there was, and maybe there still is, a roadside sign: "Expect the unexpected".
We encountered a sudden downpour of rain, probably related to this sign, as we drew near to Rotorua in recent times. I have navigated public hospitals and aged care recently too, as I have cared for the health needs of my mum. There, too, this sign is very helpful.
Granted, my recent experiences in healthcare were, and are, in Perth, Western Australia. Yet my nursing friends here in New Zealand assure me they have encountered many similar experiences.
Within public hospitals and aged care, my mum, sister and I encountered much cultural diversity. This is critical nowadays to have enough health professionals. Yet the patients are not necessarily prepared for this melting pot of humanity, which is far from their normal everyday existence at home.
Within a hospital where my mum was cared for, one realised over time that most of the patients were Caucasian and generally elderly. The doctors were from India mainly or with Asian heritage. The nurses were mainly from India, with a few Caucasians. The cleaning team were mainly African or Asian.
It is similar in the aged-care home where my mum now resides. This was and is a caring melting pot, yet it could prove challenging at times for my mum.
Patients are not feeling well and a lack of Caucasian faces in the medical team can add to the anxiety. Kindness and empathy were amazing game-changers in this unexpectedness for the patient. Actively being kind was very helpful for everyone.
Some staff were aficionados. Bravo. Some struggled more and seemed not to care about their impact. Alas.
It went both ways, with kindness and empathy for the staff by the patient helping all. If hospitalisation or aged care are on your horizon, expect the unexpected. Be prepared for a multicultural team of care.
A related challenge was language. Accents could be hard to understand, especially when the person spoke fast or softly. This went both ways too, for the patients and for the health professionals. Speaking slowly and clearly would presumably be helpful.
Medical jargon is not necessarily helpful for those not medically trained or confused due to ageing. Best to say "Here’s your medication", perhaps, for some patients, rather than a detailed account of what it is.
Intriguingly one does not encounter, on the whole, family members of other patients when visiting your family member. Where are they?
On day one for my mum in an aged-care home, my sister was admonished by the receptionist: "You’re not going to bring her here and then she’ll hardly see you, or won’t see you, thereafter?"
My sister replied she would be coming regularly, yet the receptionist said this was not the norm. So sad. Lonely parents abandoned. Can we not do better?
The favourite activity for many residents in my mum’s aged-care home is the Bingo each Friday, followed by fish and chips for lunch. When playing Bingo, the concentration to hear, and to act on that, proved to be an excellent mental exercise. It was rewarded with chocolates and soft toys if you won.
Bingo. Maybe we might have some "Bingo" and smiling if we embraced the unexpected in healthcare and were not taken aback by cultural diversity.
Speak clearly. Visit or ring regularly. For the social good of our community, actively be empathetic and kind.
— Dorothy Oorschot is a professor in the department of anatomy at the University of Otago.