Chopperdoc - an Update

And speaking of medics, after weeks of not knowing what we were doing, I can finally give you some news about Darren's job situation.

On Monday he spoke to his boss and formally resigned from his post at the hospital, which means he's now working his notice. He has to reapply for his working visa, so if there are any glitches, you'll be seeing us much sooner than you thought.

The boss was more sympathetic to our cause than we had anticipated. The main sticking point has been the upcoming merger of two hospital departments, one of which provides us with extra private income. With the merger, the private work will dry up, hence the financial implications of staying in the job. The boss is a reasonable man because he seems to understand that we can't have half the number of swanky holidays on what the government salary pays, so after negotiations at work and negotiations at home (I want a new sofa) the deal was done.

From the end of July he'll be working for a not-for-profit organisation out of Bankstown Airport where his mission, should he choose to accept it, will be the recovery of patients from road traffic accidents, crocodile maulings and snake bites in more remote places than the eastern suburbs. The job will take him to outback NSW as well as up to the "top end" of Australia, where Ella and I will be accompanying him on his tour of duty and checking out the local banana bread.

And once every eight weeks he'll be working for the international arm of the organisation. I'm trying not to think about this because the last job that came up was a five day return to London Heathrow and when we came to Sydney I hadn't agreed to being abandoned in this country, no matter how much duty free perfume and Cadbury's Dairy Milk he can smuggle back in his (business class) overhead locker. He tells me these trips pay very well, what he doesn't realise is any trip to London will cost him at least twice that in jewellery.

The amusing news is that he has to wear a jumpsuit and gloves so I'm hoping they'll complete the look with flying goggles and I can nickname him Dr Biggles for the purposes of the blog. I've also struck a deal about being allowed to go in the chopper, which started off as "just up off the helipad and back again" and has grown into "all the way up the harbour and over the top of the bridge", so he's going to be working on the pilots when they're not busy.

Anyway, I've had to measure him up for the flying suit, including instructions to measure the "seat of his pants". That sort of instruction just calls for some sort of quip, so I'll let you think up your own.