Bob Pocock
MY STORY
Firstly, let me introduce myself....
My
name is Bob Pocock and at the time of writing this I was 53 years and a couple
of months old. I live in Adelaide, Australia. Not all that long ago I was not
expected to see my 50th birthday, but here I am thanks to the skill of a surgeon
and the donation of organs given by the parents of a deceased young teenager,
and for that, I thank them both very deeply.
Here then is my story .....
I was first diagnosed with Pneumonia in August of 1996 and was put on the normal
anti biotics by the GP, but the condition never got any better. After a few
months, it was pretty evident that something else was seriously wrong. I asked
the GP if I could see a specialist, and finally came into contact with a great
bloke (Dr. Mark Holmes) who knew what was wrong.
He diagnosed me with COAD (Chronic Obtructive Airways Disease) or Emphysema as
it is more commonly called. I then went through a series of tests that took
forever at the Royal Adelaide Hospital, and the outcome was not good . I had
gone from being an “able bodied” fork lift driver to a person who could hardly
walk 100 feet without a 1/2 hour rest to recuperate in less than three months.
Such things as lung reduction and lung transplant were discussed, but I really
can’t recall much of what was being said. Luckily my wife understood what was
what, as I was dumbstruck. It was finally told that my only option was a Lung
Transplant. Depending on my state of health I would go through a series of tests
both here in Adelaide and in Melbourne and hopefully be accepted on the waiting
list for a transplant. After another few months I was put on that list in
December 1997. By July of 1998, my condition had deteriorated that much, that I
was on oxygen for 20 hours daily, and was virtually house bound.
During this waiting time, for someone who has not been through it, life was
“hell”. That would be the only way to describe it. Not knowing when or even if
that magic phone call would come. As my condition got steadily worse, the range
of emotions was a wild rush. Feeling sorry for myself, inadequacy, a drain on my
family, loss of income, the feeling of getting it over with quickly, all were a
daily mixture of everything. The only thing that really got me through this was
the terrific support of my wife and family. The professionals were good, but I
really owe my family everything.
That all important call came on September 7th at around 10.30pm. As the
transplant was to be in Melbourne, I was taken to Adelaide airport by ambulance
(a 40 minute drive), and then flew to Melbourne on a Royal Flying Doctor 4
seater plane with my wife to Essendon airport in Melbourne and then by ambulance
to Alfred Hospital. I was then showered, shaved and made ready for surgery. At
around 5am the surgeon came and said that he was sorry, but the donated organ
was not suitable for transplant and the operation would not go ahead and that I
would be sent home later that day. To say that my wife and I were devastated
would be an understatement. We came home and once again waited. By this time I
was really at the most deepest of my despair. On September 25th at 10.30 pm the
phone rang again and I was told to get myself ready and the procedure started
all over again.
This time thankfully it was for real. I was operated on in the wee small hours
of Sept 26th. Everything went well thankfully. I awoke in Intesive Care sometime
late Saturday afternoon. It seems my recovery went exceptionally well as I was
transferred to the general ward Sunday lunchtime, and although still pretty
groggy I conned the nurses into letting me watch the Rugby League Grand Final
live on TV.
I had to remain in Melbourne for my recovery period of 3 months with my carer
(who happens to be my lovely wife), and live on a budget. No promises or
guarantees were given, but here it is 2 years later and no oxygen, no puffers,
no nebuliser but a lot of medication, Hell, life is good....
I have nothing but praise and admiration for the staff at the Alfred. My thanks
to everyone... Dr Julian Smith (surgeon), Louise Mcfarlane, Anne Griffiths,
Wendy, the Physios and especially the great nursing staff at 5D. Without their
dedication, care and attention, and outlook, I am quite sure some of us would
never had made it.
**** The year 2000.
Hard to believe it.. 2 years have now passed since my op. I have returned to a
“normal” lifestyle and am once again playing ten pin bowling competitively. I am
out gardening again, although a little slower than before and I have 4
grandchildren to watch grow up. During this period I have been well looked after
by my specialist, the terrific Doctor Mark Holmes, Rosie Day, whose real name
should be Smiley Day, and the great staff at the Chest Clinic of the Royal
Adelaide Hospital. Their help, patience and understanding have been a tremendous
help to both myself and the countless other patients whom I have come in contact
with. To all these people I say “thank you so much for everything”.
***** The year 2001.
Who would have thought that 3 years ago I would still be here. Just turned 53
years old and still feeling great. Still playing 10 pin bowling with an average
of 165 and still enjoying life to the fullest. In Feb. 2002 another grandchild
by my son and his wife..That makes 5 in all....Isn’t life great. I am now an
active member of Transplant SA and am currently helping 2 others from Lyell
McEwin and 1 from RAH who are in the same predicament that I was in 4 years
ago. I’m thankful that I can be of some help and comfort to these people.
I know what it was like when Mary and I had no one to confide in.
October 2001 ... I have just been elected Vice President of Transplant Australia
(South Australia and Northern Territory Branch). What an honor. I have played an
active part of Transplant Australia for just over a year and have met some
fabulous people. CF young adults who have had double lung transplants, Liver,
kidney,heart and even pancreas recipients and what inspirational stories some of
them have to tell. Sometimes my problem disappeared into oblivion compared with
others.
As a result of my transplant, I have a new outlook on life and others around me.
How precious life is. I have had the chance to meet people who I would never
have conceived of meeting if it hadn’t been for my operation and I now consider
myself to be one of the luckiest people around.
Dedicated to all the “lungies” wherever they may be
....
Bob Pocock
FOOTNOTE: How lucky
can I be. Today it is 13th Feb 2002 and I have just had a phone call from my son
in Sydney with the news of yet another grandson. 3 1/2 years ago I never thought
in my wildest dreams of this day ever happening.
It reminds me of message I saw on a T-shirt -
“Life’s not too short, it’s just that you’re dead for so long”