Resilience

Rosemarie Drewe's story by Thea Calzoni

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Rosemarie Drewe with grandson Samuel Terrence and son Nicholas

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Today Ron and I headed into Albury to meet a family who accessed disability services on both sides of the border. As our car pulled into the Drewe family's street, we could hear what sounded like angry shouting. When I got out of the car, I could plainly hear a gruff young man's voice bellowing words of complaint and abuse. Ron busied himself getting his camera out of the back of the car. We said nothing but I caught his eye as we approached the Drewe household. The shouting was getting louder. What were we in for? A domestic argument? My shoulders tensed as I rang the door bell.

The door was opened by a gentle looking woman, Rosemary Drewe. In the hallway behind her we glimpsed a gorgeous sleepy baby in a pram. Her grandson, Samuel Terrence. Otherwise, introductions weren't necessary. We'd already got reasonably acquainted yesterday on the telephone when we'd made the appointment to meet. She ushered us in and we all stood awkwardly cramped together in the hall near the door, me with my books and pens, Ron with his camera bag and her with her pram which she now had to rock to keep the baby settled. My peripheral vision could just take in the shape of the shouting person in the lounge room who seemed to be gesturing angrily at what sounded like a televised recording of a piano recital.

"Nick's off his tree today. I've been trying to get through to Cooinda this morning to tell you it would be best for you not to come - but their phone's been busy. He suffers badly from sinus and he's got a headache. I've just given him some Panadol and I'll see if I can get him to use his asthma medication mask when he's a bit calmer. But you see what he can be like. I'm sorry, sometimes it just gets too much."

She shuddered, took a deep breath and wiped away tears. I patted her shoulder. It felt firm and strong in contrast to my weak and ineffectual gesture of support. She rocked the pram and explained some more, talking very fast, without a break, about how there were good days and bad days but whatever they were she just had to keep on going. As she spoke, the shouting from the lounge-room became louder and more agitated. Unhappy before we came in, Nick was now most likely upset at our intrusion, at our engagement of his mother in a sorry conversation about him! It seemed rude not to go in and greet Nick, but it would also be rude to invade his space uninvited. I tentatively ventured towards him, whereupon he shouted and glared and scared me away, back to huddle with Ron and Rosemary now engaged in conversation about the problems she'd had with accessing services in N.S.W. My legs began to feel sore and tired. I had to sink into one of the elegant little chairs there beside me in the hall by the telephone table. It was pathetic that I should feel so weary when it was Rosemary that had to live in this situation, day in day out. I suddenly felt I had nothing to give. I was in no state to listen. All I could do was sit there and feel pain and sadness and distress.

Eventually, I gained some composure. The baby went to sleep. Ron was still a calm presence. Rosemary seemed more relaxed and although Nick was still muttering curses, at least he was quieter and it felt quite normal for us to go into the living area behind his lounge chair and sit down at the table. On the table was a crystal vase of red roses, yellow daisies and little purple forget-me-nots arranged in a spray of ferns. The colour and fragrance of the flowers gave heart to the whole room. I breathed deeply and relaxed. Rosemary explained that they were a present to Nick from his home-care lady. Nick became quiet and listened as his mother said, "I think she must have a wonderful garden. She brings Nick lots of flowers. She knows he loves flowers because she talks with him about what he likes. And she listens carefully."

Nick murmured his approval. For a moment, we were all quiet and it seemed that he began to take interest in the piano concert piece on the television. Rosemary continued.

"All four ladies we have from the home-care service are special. They all have a gift. They are all different personalities but they share a deep caring quality. They are a great support to us. One of them takes Nick out every Friday night, usually to a film. He loves that. We also have them in to care for Nick when I go to help my daughter Katherine with her ballet classes. That's a break for me. I used to be a ballet teacher, myself. In fact, it was through children's ballet classes that I first met Sue Pringle. I found her again at Cooinda. I got support from her through the difficult period leading up to my husband's death and ever since.

"Things are a lot better with Nick now because he can see again. For a time he was virtually blind. He couldn't even see the television. It wasn't easy finding the right doctor. Eventually I found one here who cared about quality of life and he referred us to Dr Alex Poon, a Melbourne Eye Specialist. When we first took Nick to see him, Nick was very distrustful and nervous. The second visit, he was OK. The third visit also OK. The staff at the Victorian Eye and Ear Hospital are truly amazing. Their kindness and consideration was such a relief for Nick. He's had about sixteen or seventeen operations in his life for cleft pallet, undescended testes, knee problems and so on. For him, hospitals represented suffering. We all talked to him about how the doctor was going to fix his eye so he'd be able to see again and he wanted that but he was still very fearful. It was great at the hospital how they let him do what he needed to do and just worked around it. When we got him in there for his operation, he just threw himself down on the floor. He wasn't going anywhere. Well, they just walked around him, not making a fuss, just acting like everything was normal and after a while he quietened down. Eventually they had him up on a trolley at the doorway to the operating theatre. They could tell he was fearful of going in there, so they just brought the gas over to him and before you knew it, he was out to it enough for them to give him the anaesthetic injection without him being aware of it. Then they operated to insert a lens into his eye. After the operation, I was sitting beside him in Recovery when he came to and he called out to the staff, 'Thank you, thank you.' His eye was covered in gauze so he wouldn't have known whether he could see or not but he knew the worst was over and he was thanking them, I think, for the way they'd handled it. The next day, we went to Alex's rooms and Nick maneuvered himself into the chin rest of the eye examination equipment without any hesitation. Alex said, 'You know, Nick, I think you can see already'. Now that the worst was over, it was total cooperation with Nick."

I looked across at Nick whose face was turned slightly towards us. Had he been listening? He didn't seem much interested in the television anymore. He seemed relaxed, but suddenly became excited as we heard the front door open. In came a lovely young woman with placid features and a lithe body. This was Katherine, Nick's sister, back home from teaching her morning ballet school lessons. She brought him a newspaper and some lunch, much to his obvious delight. As she sat talking with him while he began his lunch, Rosemary murmured, "He's as much a part of her life as he is of mine. She's wonderful, absolutely fabulous. She's seven years older than he. She's got her own ballet school. She could be out leading a more social young woman's life but she just won't leave us."

Katherine retreated to work at her computer in the back room, leaving Nick happy with some pictures he'd found in the newspaper. A double page spread featuring the stars of Chicago, the movie. "How about that!" he exclaimed. Rosemary talked to him about it. He laughed happily. She explained that Chicago was his current craze. The Home-Care ladies took turns to take him to see it every Friday night.

"They've taken him to see it every Friday night for the past four weeks. They're very good about it. They say at least the music's good and every time they go they find something new in the story!"

Now we heard some chirpy noises from the pram. Samuel Terrence had woken up. Rosemary went to get him. Meanwhile, Nick was happy to show the pictures of the spunky Chicago women to Ron. When Rosemary brought her grandchild over to join Nick on the couch, Ron took a photo of the three of them. We enjoyed the baby a lot. All too soon, however, his dad, and Rosemary's eldest son, John, came to take him home.

I asked Rosemary about her family. She said she has four children. They've all lived in Albury for about twenty years.

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Rosemarie Drewe with sons Robin, front, and Nicholas
(pic courtesy of Border Mail)

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