Visit from Aussie vet lifts spirits of young patients at PCH
A well-timed visit from vet and TV personality Chris Brown lifted the spirits of young patients at Perth Children's Hospital on Thursday.
Dr Brown popped into the ward, alongside support dog Murphy, with Telethon gifts in hand as he chatted to youngsters like Kate Wagner.
The 16-year-old has been in hospital for more than a year following a severe bacterial meningitis infection in May last year.
She has been battling a serious central nervous system infection since, and is often in a lot of pain.
Kate and Dr Brown bonded over their love of kelpies, discovering they both own the breed. Missing her own pup back home, Kate showered cavoodle Murphy with all the pats and scratches.
'It's really good (having support dogs at PCH) because a lot of the time you can't go outside,' she said.
'So, even bringing up my own dogs, I can't go see them or anything . . . there's weeks at a time I can't see a dog — I'm dog deprived!'
Kate's mum, Jo Wagner, said they found out just hours before the visit that Kate had had a stroke sometime in the past few days. Channel 7's Dr Chris Brown with Kate Wagner. Credit: Kelsey Reid / The West Australian
It means she's due to start another gruelling round of treatment to try get her infection under control.
'It's just awesome, the joy that it gives kids. Kate's got the biggest smile on her face,' Ms Wagner said.
'It's so hard because she's really sick, she's in so much pain, and so . . . it's just beautiful . . . animals just do something, (they) bring joy.' Channel 7's Dr Chris Brown pictured with PCH volunteer Moira Bancroft and two Captain Starlight volunteers. Credit: Kelsey Reid / The West Australian
Dr Brown said it was a pleasure to see kids doing it tough in hospital 'embrace something different in their day'.
'Often the kids in here have pets at home they're missing. So dogs like Murphy become sort of that temporary replacement pet for them, to have a pat and just to feel that little touch of unconditional love again,' Dr Brown said.
Telethon weekend is October 18 and 19.
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News.com.au
15 hours ago
- News.com.au
Aussie girl Marleigh, 10, talks to A Current Affair about new blood donation rules
A 10-year old Australian girl who relies on blood donations to stay alive says she has a better chance at life from new rules that allow gay and bisexual men and transgender women to donate plasma. Mum Kate told A Current Affair her daughter Marleigh relies on blood donations because of an incurable condition that is potentially fatal and has no cure. Kate fought for years to have the rules changed in Australia that would allow more people to donate lifesaving plasma. Kate said Marleigh suffered seizures that lasted up to almost 40 hours and their gay male friends were heartbroken they could not donate blood when the young girl was at her sickest. 'Her immune system is wrongly identifying her healthy brain cells as foreign and attacking her brain,' she said. 'We have so many friends, particularly our gay male friends, who would love to donate for Marleigh. 'All they wanted to do was go and jump in a seat at Lifeblood and donate the blood.' According to Lifeblood, earlier rules prevented gay and bisexual men and transgender women from donating blood or plasma if they had sex with men in the past three months. Lifeblood will remove most sexual activity wait times for plasma donations from July 14, which means most people, and anyone who takes pre-exposure prophylaxis that meets other eligibility criteria, will be able to donate plasma. The lifesaving organisation expects an extra 24,000 Australians will be able to give about 95,000 donations of plasma each year. Lifeblood chief medical officer Jo Pink said with plasma now the donation type most needed by Australian patients, the change came at an important time. 'We're excited to be able to welcome more people from across the community into our donor centres from next month,' she said. Dr Pink said the Therapeutic Goods Administration was also in the process of approving their submission to remove gender-based sexual activity rules, which means all donors will be asked the same rules about their sexual activity. She said their submission to change rules for blood donation included data that showed a six month wait was the safest option for Australian patients. 'But we are committed to reviewing this as more evidence becomes available,' she said. 'There are many steps that Lifeblood needs to take before we can implement the new gender-neutral assessments, including working with state and territory governments to change the donor questionnaire. 'We hope to be able to implement this part of the changes next year. 'Blood safety is and always will be our top priority but we know the current donation rules have been very difficult for many people in the LGBTQIA+ community. 'While they were put in place to ensure a safe blood supply in the past, we know that they've contributed to the stigma faced by the community.' Health Equity Matters chief executive officer Dash Heath-Paynter said he welcomed this change that could unlock thousands of donations of lifesaving plasma. 'While there is still more work, the Therapeutic Goods Administration's approval for gender neutral assessments for blood donation is welcomed,' he said. 'In terms of plasma donations, these changes mean Australia's regulations are world-leading.' Kirby Institute head of global health program John Kaldor said Lifeblood had developed pragmatic and innovative new procedures for blood donations with scientific evidence that shifted societal expectations.
The Advertiser
2 days ago
- The Advertiser
'It took everything': former firefighter's road back from brink of self-destruction
Warning: This story discusses suicide and suicidal thoughts. "Can't you just start doing the fun stuff you used to love doing?" This is one of the most common questions Michael Brown gets asked, and his answer, with a sigh, is "if only it was that easy". For 32 years, the man from Kiama on the NSW south coast has worked to save the lives of others, but 10 years ago he was suddenly left struggling to survive. He worked as a firefighter, and during his deployment as a vertical rescue specialist, he was often charged with "body retrieval" of people who had died by suicide. "Part of my job was finding those people," he said. "A day could be, you know, I just found a deceased person and I've got to sit next to this person for three hours before the police investigation team can get there, and it's not so glamorous." There have been many other emergency call-outs that have left their mark on him. "Everything from house fires, bushfires, motor vehicle accidents, aeroplane accidents, lots of suicides. Pretty much a bit of everything, really," Mr Brown said. For the longest time, Mr Brown was the same as others at his work, just a knockabout bloke keen to help the public during emergencies, but then it all changed. He started struggling: the horrors of what he saw were hard to block out, and they often invaded his dreams at night. Eventually, he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), his past traumas grew, and he struggled to get through every single day. The official description of PTSD is an anxiety disorder caused by very stressful, frightening or distressing events. But Mr Brown describes it as a total breakdown of your nervous system. "It leaves you feeling scared, anxious, depressed. It almost feels like a psychosis at times because you're imagining [things]," he said. He started having flashbacks to motor vehicle accidents he was called to for his job, and the blood he saw. "I would be in my car driving past a truck, and then I can see blood splattered all over the side of the truck, and that then leads to more visuals in my head," he said. "PTSD just took away everything I had. I've had two failed marriages because of my PTSD; I'm estranged from two of my daughters because of my PTSD. I lost my job because of my PTSD." He pushed away from his family, his friends and the world. "My psychiatrist had even told me I'm the worst case of PTSD he's ever seen," he said. "I just wanted to isolate, completely cut off from the world, because I was terrified to go outside of my house, terrified, I didn't trust anybody. "Twice I tried to take my own life." He was admitted to the hospital countless times during an eight-year period, sometimes spending up to four months there, but that was before he found the Veteran Surf Project in Gerringong two years ago. As a child, Mr Brown had always been fascinated by surfing culture and his school books had been covered with pictures of famous surfers, but he never imagined that surfing would save his life. He vividly remembers that first surf session two years ago, as former pro-surfer and VSP's founder, Rusty Moran, led a meditation session sitting on the sand. "For me, sitting in front of an ex-pro surfer was something special, but then to see his face, that big smile, and I just thought, wow, I just feel hope, I feel this, this could be something," Mr Brown said "It has been. It just turned my whole life around in the last two years, I haven't been to hospital and it's amazing." He credits the program with saving his life, and he's now met a "lovely person" with whom he now lives. "She's fantastic, and I'm slowly putting things back together in my life, and the surfing, I just live for it, it's my daily medicine. The Veteran Surf Project delivers free surf therapy programs to veterans and first responders; it's "mental health by stealth", according to founder Rusty Moran. He said veterans and first responders have a high drop-out rate from traditional psychology services. "This cohort have trained into them the ability to be self-independent, so admitting that they need help and getting help from a psychologist goes against their grain," Mr Moran said. "Often they'll suffer in silence and not even communicate with their spouse. "The flashbacks [they have] make it feel like it's happening now." VSP has a different approach to helping people with PTSD. It offers a safe space with people who have similar backgrounds, and they focus on something new - learning to surf - which gets them out of their trauma cycle. "Research shows surfing can build up capacity so someone turns away from suicidal thoughts and suicide plans," Mr Moran said. "There's some magic happening in the ocean." VSP started in Gerringong in 2001, and it's based on research from the United States Naval Centre. Participants are so focused on learning new surfing skills that the negative thoughts have to be pushed aside so they can focus. "That self-belief [from learning new skills] allows them to self-regulate the automatic responses to PTSD," Mr Moran said. The VSP program consists of a 10-week learn to surf course for new members, followed by continuing weekly sessions for program graduates. PTSD is the most common mental health disorder after depression, and Friday, June 27, is PTSD Awareness Day. For help in a crisis, call Lifeline 24 hours a day on 13 11 14, or Beyond Blue on 1300 22 4636. Warning: This story discusses suicide and suicidal thoughts. "Can't you just start doing the fun stuff you used to love doing?" This is one of the most common questions Michael Brown gets asked, and his answer, with a sigh, is "if only it was that easy". For 32 years, the man from Kiama on the NSW south coast has worked to save the lives of others, but 10 years ago he was suddenly left struggling to survive. He worked as a firefighter, and during his deployment as a vertical rescue specialist, he was often charged with "body retrieval" of people who had died by suicide. "Part of my job was finding those people," he said. "A day could be, you know, I just found a deceased person and I've got to sit next to this person for three hours before the police investigation team can get there, and it's not so glamorous." There have been many other emergency call-outs that have left their mark on him. "Everything from house fires, bushfires, motor vehicle accidents, aeroplane accidents, lots of suicides. Pretty much a bit of everything, really," Mr Brown said. For the longest time, Mr Brown was the same as others at his work, just a knockabout bloke keen to help the public during emergencies, but then it all changed. He started struggling: the horrors of what he saw were hard to block out, and they often invaded his dreams at night. Eventually, he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), his past traumas grew, and he struggled to get through every single day. The official description of PTSD is an anxiety disorder caused by very stressful, frightening or distressing events. But Mr Brown describes it as a total breakdown of your nervous system. "It leaves you feeling scared, anxious, depressed. It almost feels like a psychosis at times because you're imagining [things]," he said. He started having flashbacks to motor vehicle accidents he was called to for his job, and the blood he saw. "I would be in my car driving past a truck, and then I can see blood splattered all over the side of the truck, and that then leads to more visuals in my head," he said. "PTSD just took away everything I had. I've had two failed marriages because of my PTSD; I'm estranged from two of my daughters because of my PTSD. I lost my job because of my PTSD." He pushed away from his family, his friends and the world. "My psychiatrist had even told me I'm the worst case of PTSD he's ever seen," he said. "I just wanted to isolate, completely cut off from the world, because I was terrified to go outside of my house, terrified, I didn't trust anybody. "Twice I tried to take my own life." He was admitted to the hospital countless times during an eight-year period, sometimes spending up to four months there, but that was before he found the Veteran Surf Project in Gerringong two years ago. As a child, Mr Brown had always been fascinated by surfing culture and his school books had been covered with pictures of famous surfers, but he never imagined that surfing would save his life. He vividly remembers that first surf session two years ago, as former pro-surfer and VSP's founder, Rusty Moran, led a meditation session sitting on the sand. "For me, sitting in front of an ex-pro surfer was something special, but then to see his face, that big smile, and I just thought, wow, I just feel hope, I feel this, this could be something," Mr Brown said "It has been. It just turned my whole life around in the last two years, I haven't been to hospital and it's amazing." He credits the program with saving his life, and he's now met a "lovely person" with whom he now lives. "She's fantastic, and I'm slowly putting things back together in my life, and the surfing, I just live for it, it's my daily medicine. The Veteran Surf Project delivers free surf therapy programs to veterans and first responders; it's "mental health by stealth", according to founder Rusty Moran. He said veterans and first responders have a high drop-out rate from traditional psychology services. "This cohort have trained into them the ability to be self-independent, so admitting that they need help and getting help from a psychologist goes against their grain," Mr Moran said. "Often they'll suffer in silence and not even communicate with their spouse. "The flashbacks [they have] make it feel like it's happening now." VSP has a different approach to helping people with PTSD. It offers a safe space with people who have similar backgrounds, and they focus on something new - learning to surf - which gets them out of their trauma cycle. "Research shows surfing can build up capacity so someone turns away from suicidal thoughts and suicide plans," Mr Moran said. "There's some magic happening in the ocean." VSP started in Gerringong in 2001, and it's based on research from the United States Naval Centre. Participants are so focused on learning new surfing skills that the negative thoughts have to be pushed aside so they can focus. "That self-belief [from learning new skills] allows them to self-regulate the automatic responses to PTSD," Mr Moran said. The VSP program consists of a 10-week learn to surf course for new members, followed by continuing weekly sessions for program graduates. PTSD is the most common mental health disorder after depression, and Friday, June 27, is PTSD Awareness Day. For help in a crisis, call Lifeline 24 hours a day on 13 11 14, or Beyond Blue on 1300 22 4636. Warning: This story discusses suicide and suicidal thoughts. "Can't you just start doing the fun stuff you used to love doing?" This is one of the most common questions Michael Brown gets asked, and his answer, with a sigh, is "if only it was that easy". For 32 years, the man from Kiama on the NSW south coast has worked to save the lives of others, but 10 years ago he was suddenly left struggling to survive. He worked as a firefighter, and during his deployment as a vertical rescue specialist, he was often charged with "body retrieval" of people who had died by suicide. "Part of my job was finding those people," he said. "A day could be, you know, I just found a deceased person and I've got to sit next to this person for three hours before the police investigation team can get there, and it's not so glamorous." There have been many other emergency call-outs that have left their mark on him. "Everything from house fires, bushfires, motor vehicle accidents, aeroplane accidents, lots of suicides. Pretty much a bit of everything, really," Mr Brown said. For the longest time, Mr Brown was the same as others at his work, just a knockabout bloke keen to help the public during emergencies, but then it all changed. He started struggling: the horrors of what he saw were hard to block out, and they often invaded his dreams at night. Eventually, he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), his past traumas grew, and he struggled to get through every single day. The official description of PTSD is an anxiety disorder caused by very stressful, frightening or distressing events. But Mr Brown describes it as a total breakdown of your nervous system. "It leaves you feeling scared, anxious, depressed. It almost feels like a psychosis at times because you're imagining [things]," he said. He started having flashbacks to motor vehicle accidents he was called to for his job, and the blood he saw. "I would be in my car driving past a truck, and then I can see blood splattered all over the side of the truck, and that then leads to more visuals in my head," he said. "PTSD just took away everything I had. I've had two failed marriages because of my PTSD; I'm estranged from two of my daughters because of my PTSD. I lost my job because of my PTSD." He pushed away from his family, his friends and the world. "My psychiatrist had even told me I'm the worst case of PTSD he's ever seen," he said. "I just wanted to isolate, completely cut off from the world, because I was terrified to go outside of my house, terrified, I didn't trust anybody. "Twice I tried to take my own life." He was admitted to the hospital countless times during an eight-year period, sometimes spending up to four months there, but that was before he found the Veteran Surf Project in Gerringong two years ago. As a child, Mr Brown had always been fascinated by surfing culture and his school books had been covered with pictures of famous surfers, but he never imagined that surfing would save his life. He vividly remembers that first surf session two years ago, as former pro-surfer and VSP's founder, Rusty Moran, led a meditation session sitting on the sand. "For me, sitting in front of an ex-pro surfer was something special, but then to see his face, that big smile, and I just thought, wow, I just feel hope, I feel this, this could be something," Mr Brown said "It has been. It just turned my whole life around in the last two years, I haven't been to hospital and it's amazing." He credits the program with saving his life, and he's now met a "lovely person" with whom he now lives. "She's fantastic, and I'm slowly putting things back together in my life, and the surfing, I just live for it, it's my daily medicine. The Veteran Surf Project delivers free surf therapy programs to veterans and first responders; it's "mental health by stealth", according to founder Rusty Moran. He said veterans and first responders have a high drop-out rate from traditional psychology services. "This cohort have trained into them the ability to be self-independent, so admitting that they need help and getting help from a psychologist goes against their grain," Mr Moran said. "Often they'll suffer in silence and not even communicate with their spouse. "The flashbacks [they have] make it feel like it's happening now." VSP has a different approach to helping people with PTSD. It offers a safe space with people who have similar backgrounds, and they focus on something new - learning to surf - which gets them out of their trauma cycle. "Research shows surfing can build up capacity so someone turns away from suicidal thoughts and suicide plans," Mr Moran said. "There's some magic happening in the ocean." VSP started in Gerringong in 2001, and it's based on research from the United States Naval Centre. Participants are so focused on learning new surfing skills that the negative thoughts have to be pushed aside so they can focus. "That self-belief [from learning new skills] allows them to self-regulate the automatic responses to PTSD," Mr Moran said. The VSP program consists of a 10-week learn to surf course for new members, followed by continuing weekly sessions for program graduates. PTSD is the most common mental health disorder after depression, and Friday, June 27, is PTSD Awareness Day. For help in a crisis, call Lifeline 24 hours a day on 13 11 14, or Beyond Blue on 1300 22 4636. Warning: This story discusses suicide and suicidal thoughts. "Can't you just start doing the fun stuff you used to love doing?" This is one of the most common questions Michael Brown gets asked, and his answer, with a sigh, is "if only it was that easy". For 32 years, the man from Kiama on the NSW south coast has worked to save the lives of others, but 10 years ago he was suddenly left struggling to survive. He worked as a firefighter, and during his deployment as a vertical rescue specialist, he was often charged with "body retrieval" of people who had died by suicide. "Part of my job was finding those people," he said. "A day could be, you know, I just found a deceased person and I've got to sit next to this person for three hours before the police investigation team can get there, and it's not so glamorous." There have been many other emergency call-outs that have left their mark on him. "Everything from house fires, bushfires, motor vehicle accidents, aeroplane accidents, lots of suicides. Pretty much a bit of everything, really," Mr Brown said. For the longest time, Mr Brown was the same as others at his work, just a knockabout bloke keen to help the public during emergencies, but then it all changed. He started struggling: the horrors of what he saw were hard to block out, and they often invaded his dreams at night. Eventually, he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), his past traumas grew, and he struggled to get through every single day. The official description of PTSD is an anxiety disorder caused by very stressful, frightening or distressing events. But Mr Brown describes it as a total breakdown of your nervous system. "It leaves you feeling scared, anxious, depressed. It almost feels like a psychosis at times because you're imagining [things]," he said. He started having flashbacks to motor vehicle accidents he was called to for his job, and the blood he saw. "I would be in my car driving past a truck, and then I can see blood splattered all over the side of the truck, and that then leads to more visuals in my head," he said. "PTSD just took away everything I had. I've had two failed marriages because of my PTSD; I'm estranged from two of my daughters because of my PTSD. I lost my job because of my PTSD." He pushed away from his family, his friends and the world. "My psychiatrist had even told me I'm the worst case of PTSD he's ever seen," he said. "I just wanted to isolate, completely cut off from the world, because I was terrified to go outside of my house, terrified, I didn't trust anybody. "Twice I tried to take my own life." He was admitted to the hospital countless times during an eight-year period, sometimes spending up to four months there, but that was before he found the Veteran Surf Project in Gerringong two years ago. As a child, Mr Brown had always been fascinated by surfing culture and his school books had been covered with pictures of famous surfers, but he never imagined that surfing would save his life. He vividly remembers that first surf session two years ago, as former pro-surfer and VSP's founder, Rusty Moran, led a meditation session sitting on the sand. "For me, sitting in front of an ex-pro surfer was something special, but then to see his face, that big smile, and I just thought, wow, I just feel hope, I feel this, this could be something," Mr Brown said "It has been. It just turned my whole life around in the last two years, I haven't been to hospital and it's amazing." He credits the program with saving his life, and he's now met a "lovely person" with whom he now lives. "She's fantastic, and I'm slowly putting things back together in my life, and the surfing, I just live for it, it's my daily medicine. The Veteran Surf Project delivers free surf therapy programs to veterans and first responders; it's "mental health by stealth", according to founder Rusty Moran. He said veterans and first responders have a high drop-out rate from traditional psychology services. "This cohort have trained into them the ability to be self-independent, so admitting that they need help and getting help from a psychologist goes against their grain," Mr Moran said. "Often they'll suffer in silence and not even communicate with their spouse. "The flashbacks [they have] make it feel like it's happening now." VSP has a different approach to helping people with PTSD. It offers a safe space with people who have similar backgrounds, and they focus on something new - learning to surf - which gets them out of their trauma cycle. "Research shows surfing can build up capacity so someone turns away from suicidal thoughts and suicide plans," Mr Moran said. "There's some magic happening in the ocean." VSP started in Gerringong in 2001, and it's based on research from the United States Naval Centre. Participants are so focused on learning new surfing skills that the negative thoughts have to be pushed aside so they can focus. "That self-belief [from learning new skills] allows them to self-regulate the automatic responses to PTSD," Mr Moran said. The VSP program consists of a 10-week learn to surf course for new members, followed by continuing weekly sessions for program graduates. PTSD is the most common mental health disorder after depression, and Friday, June 27, is PTSD Awareness Day. For help in a crisis, call Lifeline 24 hours a day on 13 11 14, or Beyond Blue on 1300 22 4636.
7NEWS
2 days ago
- 7NEWS
Princess Kate: The true extent of the royal's cancer battle revealed, Catherine's return to duties delayed
Kate Middleton's cancer battle has sent her 'to hell and back'. But the Princess of Wales's slow and careful return to the public eye is no accident; it's part of a deliberate effort to rebuild both her health and her sense of balance, according to one insider who understands the full extent of her battle. At 43, Princess Kate is said to be in remission following an intense, months-long battle with cancer. Friends and palace insiders say her recovery is far from over. 'She is fortunate to even be speaking of recovery,' said a source, adding, 'as anyone who has been through that experience will tell you, you can feel very unwell for a long time afterwards. It can take years (to recover)'. The princess was seriously unwell in the lead-up to her planned abdominal surgery in January 2024, which later led to the discovery of her illness. During treatment, she underwent chemotherapy at the Royal Marsden Hospital and a source has now revealed that the Princess of Wales had a port inserted under her skin to deliver the medication directly to a vein near her heart. Like many patients, she became emotionally 'attached' to the device, an invisible but constant reminder of the high-stakes treatment she was enduring, the Daily Mail reported. 'It offers no cast-iron guarantee of success, even if you are a royal.' While the public has seen a glowing Princess at several recent events such as Trooping the Colour and the Order of the Garter ceremony, palace aides are quietly reminding onlookers that her full return is a 'work in progress.' Her recent last-minute withdrawal from Royal Ascot, which she announced just minutes after her name appeared on the official carriage list, was a stark reminder that she is still pacing her return. Kensington Palace said the carriage list was released in error and only confirmed that the princess was 'disappointed' not to attend and 'has to find the right balance as she fully returns to public-facing duties.' Behind the scenes, sources say that balance is everything. 'She wants to find the right balance and work with a greater degree of flexibility than before,' one insider said. 'This is a woman who plays a very important role in the monarchy... but in order for her to do it, both now and in the future, she needs to get this right.' The past year has also brought mental clarity. 'She knows more than ever what is important to her — and that she won't be rushed on her journey back to full health,' a friend said. Looking ahead, Princess Kate is expected to make a few key appearances this summer, including her role as patron at Wimbledon and at Windsor Castle on July 8 for a French state visit, the outlet reports. Whether she will attend the state banquet remains unclear. Following those engagements, she and Prince William will retreat to Anmer Hall in Norfolk with their children — Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis — for a summer of cycling, sailing, and time away from the public gaze. They will later travel to Balmoral to join the King and Queen for the traditional royal summer in Scotland. 'She's quite strict now at working out what she needs to be at and what she doesn't,' one source said. There are also family decisions ahead, including the schooling of Prince George and Princess Charlotte. One long-standing expectation is that Prince George will follow Prince William to Eton, and Princess Charlotte to Marlborough, Princess Kate's alma mater. As for travel, a foreign tour this year is said to be 'not expected,' though the door hasn't been closed entirely. A UK-based program of royal visits is more likely, with the princess reportedly keen to do more regional engagements after her low-key trip to the Inner Hebrides in April. Even when she is not seen publicly, royal insiders say that she remains highly engaged behind the scenes with her staff and her lifelong commitment to early childhood development. Comparisons to the King's more visible schedule have emerged in recent months, with some observers noting that Charles, also battling cancer, has maintained a full calendar. But those close to both royals caution against making direct comparisons. 'Every patient is different... and people have no way of absolutely knowing what is going on behind the scenes.'
