by Pitt, Turia
Again Bryn acted as Paul’s extra eyes as he made the difficult descent onto the pocket-sized patch; some locals, seeing the helicopter approach, parked cars across the entrance to the street to block traffic. Paul jumped out of the helicopter to assist Turia off and it was the first time he had seen the extent of her burns. He was shocked to find that there was literally no unburnt skin for him to hold on to her. Doctors and nurses came running across the road with gurneys to help Sarel and Dr Brahm get Turia and Kate into Emergency.
It was 5.30 pm, nearly four hours after the fateful six had been caught in the fire.
As she was rushed across the road, Turia kept pleading for someone to call Michael. The last thing she said before they wheeled her into the operating theatre was, ‘Can somebody please call my boyfriend.’
Martin, Michael and Mary had been assisted onto Nathan’s helicopter and flown to the Kununurra heliport, where they were conveyed by ambulance to the Kununurra Hospital. The others at the site were driven out in the RacingthePlanet and ambulance vehicles.
Competitors continued to race between checkpoints three and six, with one person actually finishing the race at 7 pm. The race was officially called off at 5 pm.
NINE
THE BAD NEWS
MICHAEL HAD SLEPT THROUGH TURIA’S PHONE CALLS THAT morning and when he woke he saw he had three missed calls and two voice messages:
‘Oh sweets, pick up the phone; I want to talk to you before the race.’
‘I’m about to go into race; please pick up the phone, I want to talk to you.’
Michael detected crankiness in her voice. He called her mobile but it rang out; he checked the time and realised the race must have started and she was probably out of mobile range. He sent her a text message hoping it would be the first thing she read when she picked up her mobile after the race:
‘Can’t believe you have finished such a huge race. Congratulations.’
He caught his flight to Darwin, arriving later that day. After checking in at the nearby airport hotel he had a swim in the pool. He had dinner in the restaurant and watched a bit of TV in the lounge with some other young men; he saw a news item about a house fire in which an elderly woman died.
‘That’d be a fucked way to go, wouldn’t it?’ he commented to one of the guys. Surprisingly, there was no news about the fire in the Kimberley. After that he went to bed.
At about 11 pm Michael’s phone rang. He thought it might be Turia but when he looked at the screen, it was a number he didn’t recognise.
‘Am I speaking to Michael?’ It was an American voice.
‘Yes.’
‘This is Dr Brandee Waite; I’m the medical doctor for RacingthePlanet.’ Michael’s heart sank. Turia must have been in some sort of accident.
‘I’m afraid Turia has been in a fire and she has burns to more than sixty per cent of her body. She is currently intubated at Kununurra Hospital.’
Intubated? Fire? Michael was confused. He’d just woken up and here was some woman with an American accent telling him Turia had been in a fire.
‘What do you mean; is this some kind of joke?’ he asked.
‘No, I’m afraid it’s not. This is very serious. Turia is in hospital.’
‘What happened?’
‘We’re not sure. There was a fire in the gorge and some people got trapped.’
Michael, suddenly awake, felt a shiver up his spine. What on earth was going on? How could someone get trapped in a fire in a gorge – wasn’t it supposed to be rocky with water?
‘Where are her burns?’
‘Legs, arms, hands and feet,’ Dr Waite told him.
At the mention of ‘hands and feet’, Michael asked if there was any chance of amputations. Dr Waite replied that her hands were not looking good. He couldn’t speak. How was it possible to get such terrible news from a stranger at 11 o’clock at night?
‘What happens next?’ he finally asked.
Dr Waite explained that she was critically ill but stable. She would be in Kununurra Hospital for about another hour and then she was going to be medivaced to the Burns Unit at Royal Perth Hospital.
‘How did she get out?’ he suddenly thought to ask.
Dr Waite explained there was an evacuation with a helicopter.
‘How did she get to the helicopter – did she walk? Were you there?’
‘Yes, I was there and Turia walked to the helicopter.’
‘Was she screaming in pain?’
‘No, she was quite calm and she got into the helicopter with some assistance.’
She could walk! That put Michael’s mind at ease a bit.
The doctor asked if Michael knew Genji, Turia’s brother.
‘Yes. I’ll call him.’
‘No. I will call him.’
Michael’s first instinct was to tell her ‘no’ he wanted to call; Genji was his mate and she didn’t even know him. But he let it go. Before hanging up, Dr Waite gave Michael her mobile number and told him he could call her any time.
Michael was in shock but he didn’t cry. Not then. He was still processing the information. Next he sprang into action and called his father, Gary. His father sounded sleepy when he picked up the phone. It was about 1.30 am on the east coast. Michael told him what had happened.
‘But the main thing is – she’s alive.’ He told his shocked father to book tickets for himself and Célestine to Perth and he’d meet them at the Perth Hospital. Next, he grabbed his luggage, which included three big surfboards, and lugged everything down to the front desk to check out. He requested the hotel’s twenty-four-hour transport service to the airport.
The hotel’s airport bus seemed to take forever to arrive. Michael approached the desk clerk and explained the urgent emergency situation. Normally placid by nature, Michael thought this man remained too calm to have understood the full gravity of the situation; he wanted to scream, ‘My girl might be dying, don’t you get it?’ He just wanted to get to Perth; everything had to happen immediately.
When Michael got to the airport, things were very quiet. Of course it was the early hours of the morning, with few flights going anywhere, but he was pleased to find someone at the Qantas desk. Michael told the young woman that he had to get to Perth as soon as possible. She told them there was actually a flight to Perth about to leave on the tarmac, and there wasn’t another one until much later in the day. He begged to be on it but it wasn’t possible, the flight was closed; he was told the quickest way to get to Perth was to fly to Sydney and then catch a flight across to Perth. With the time difference, he would then arrive in Perth at about 10 am.
He sat down to wait for the Sydney flight and rang Genji.
On the flight to Sydney, Michael tried to concentrate on the positive. She was alive; she was a tough girl and would pull through. And she’d walked to the helicopter. That was something.
Friday 2 September was a beautiful spring day in Lake Burrill. Célestine had sent Turia an SMS in the morning to wish her well in the big race. At 3 pm (1 pm in Western Australia) Célestine was bringing in clothes off the line and as she walked into the house, her eye was caught by a photo of Turia on the dresser by the door. Turia was in her graduation gown posing by a tree in the university grounds; she was looking happy and proud and the sun streaming through the open door seemed to cast a glow over her. It almost looked as if she was surrounded by fire.
That evening Célestine was restless. As a writer she often worked late. John had gone to bed early as he had his usual 5 am start the next morning. At 11 pm she was working on a part of a story where a daughter is crying out to her mother for help and she couldn’t get Turia out of her mind. She tried calling her but it went to message bank. Célestine couldn’t get rid of the pang in her heart; she felt something had happened to her girl. She talked herself out of calling Michael and didn’t wake John; instead she gave herself a talking to: Come on; she’s just tired after running this big race; she willed herself to believe it.
When the phone
rang at 12.05 am it was Genji. This in itself was not unusual; Genji often rang his mother in the middle of the night to ‘have a chat’ and tell her he loved her. Célestine weighed up whether or not to answer. Mother love won.
‘Mum, I’m afraid I have some bad news. Turia was caught in a fire during the marathon today . . .’
‘What?’ Célestine listened, heart pounding, while Genji told her he didn’t know anything else except it was serious and that he and his new wife, Angela, and Michael’s father, Gary, were flying to Perth on the first flight out in the morning. Michael was in Darwin and flying back to Sydney and would meet them at Sydney Airport and they would all fly over together.
‘Pack your bags, Mum. Gary will pick you up at four o’clock.’
Her daughter had been crying out to her after all. Pack your bags.
She woke John, distraught, but couldn’t tell him anything as she didn’t know anything and he sat with her quietly on the deck as she sat, numb with shock, staring out at the shimmering lake. Eventually she woke Turia’s brothers to tell them. Toriki, who was twelve, started crying distractedly. Heimanu, two years older, received the news more calmly. ‘Wake me when you have more news,’ he told his mother and went back to bed.
Célestine set about packing; what to take? Would it be cold in Perth? She had no idea how long she might be there. For some reason she felt she had to take Turia’s Cambodian ChildCare cycle ride T-shirt. It seemed important but she couldn’t find it at first. But she found a small statue of the Virgin Mary and put it in her bag. She really had no idea what she was going to do with it but visualised getting some holy water to throw over it – and then all would be alright. Finally she found the T-shirt and stuffed that in her bag too; maybe it would give Turia some healing energy.
Gary picked her up and, although Célestine didn’t know him well, he was a calming influence on the long drive from the South Coast to Sydney Airport. Plus she gleaned some more information about Turia’s rescue from what Michael had told Gary, which she found optimistic. He told her Turia had walked to the helicopter and her heart leapt with hope. She’s alright, she thought; something’s happened and she’s a brave hero – that’s typical of Turia; maybe she would get an award for it.
Genji and Angela met them at the airport. Michael’s flight arrived shortly after and he went straight to comfort the obviously distressed Célestine. ‘Don’t worry; the doctors are looking after her.’
He switched on his mobile and saw he had an SMS from Royal Darwin Hospital; he called and found himself speaking with an intensive care consultant at the hospital’s National Critical Care and Trauma Response Centre (NCCTRC), who told him Turia had been transferred there. Her condition had become too unstable for the long flight from Kununurra to Perth. She was now stable and had been intubated to help her breathe; they were taking her to surgery for debridement; that is, to surgically remove some of the burnt skin.
Michael asked if Turia would lose her hands. The doctor was non-committal; it wasn’t a yes and it wasn’t a no. Michael found some comfort from this although he was left in no doubt that Turia’s situation was serious.
They all hastily rebooked to go to Darwin but as they were about to board their flight Michael received another call from the hospital advising him they were planning to evacuate Turia to the Intensive Care Unit of the Burns Unit at Sydney’s Concord Hospital; Turia would probably remain in Darwin for an hour or two after they arrived and it was up to him if he still wanted to come to Darwin. The Care Flight was coming from Sydney to get her and the evacuation crew were being prepared; once the Care Flight was in Darwin, and providing Turia remained stable, she would be flown to Sydney.
The decision was quickly made; everyone was going to Darwin. They wanted to be there in case the worst happened – that she might not make it. So a couple of hours later, Michael was on the plane back to Darwin, this time accompanied by his father, Célestine, Genji and Angela. British-born Angela, new in this family, suddenly found herself in the middle of a family crisis. She hated flying but she sat quietly, supportively holding Genji’s hand.
No one had any idea why the decision had been made to transfer Turia to Sydney instead of Perth. Only later they found out that there are few specialist burns units in Australia; when multiple burns cases are involved simultaneously, the receiving hospital will, where possible, distribute patients between the units to maximise individual care. Kate, who was also transferred to Royal Darwin Hospital, was medivaced to the Alfred Hospital in Melbourne and Michael and Martin were transferred to Royal Perth Hospital.
At 6.30 am on Saturday morning, 3 September, Michael Pitt received an SMS on his laptop. He and his wife, Karen, had just arrived back from their sailing holiday around the Greek Islands and were staying with Karen’s parents in Sydney; Michael’s mobile wasn’t working. The message was from Genji:
‘Turia is in hospital in Darwin in critical condition. She has burns to 60% of her body.’
Michael didn’t believe it; this must be one of Genji’s old Army mates playing a sick joke. Then he knew it couldn’t possibly be a joke – no one would be sick enough to joke like that. Michael borrowed Karen’s mobile and rang Genji, who was about to board the flight to Darwin. Michael heard the distress in Genji’s voice.
‘Dad she’s really bad. They don’t know if she’s going to make it. Are you coming up?’
‘I’m on the next flight out.’ He immediately bought a ticket online and Karen drove him to the airport.
He bought a new mobile phone at the airport and in a state of shock, blabbered on to the young salesman, hardly knowing what he was saying. Michael didn’t know if his daughter was dead or alive. He inserted the SIM chip into his new phone and rang Darwin Hospital. He was put through to the NCCTRC.
A member of the trauma team outlined what had happened – the race, the fire, the rescue, the emergency flight to Darwin. She was in an induced coma. They had pumped her body full of fluids. The hospital in Kununurra had done escharotomies on her arms and legs to release the tight burnt skin and help circulation. Later in the day they planned to take her back to theatre to extend her escharotomies to help improve blood flow to her extremities, which had been further compromised due to the intravenous flooding of fluids.
‘I can’t tell you if she will live or die but it is very serious,’ he was told.
As Michael Pitt sat through the four-hour flight to Darwin, all he could think was: ‘Am I going to see my daughter; or am I going to pick up her body?’ They were confronting thoughts.
The National Critical Care and Trauma Response Centre at Royal Darwin Hospital has extensive experience in dealing with serious burns. It was set up by the Federal Government in 2005 in the aftermath of the 2002 Bali bombings, when Darwin Hospital became the receiving hospital for the many burns cases. It also received burns victims from the 2005 Bali bombing and treated those from the refugee boat explosion on Ashmore Reef off the Northern Territory in 2007.
Dr Gabriele Weidmann, the intensive-care consultant at the centre, had just started her shift on the morning of 3 September when she was briefed about Turia and Kate. It was a weekend of particular mayhem in intensive care, there were many very sick patients, but everyone was talking about Turia and Kate – what had happened and the difficult evacuation from the Kimberley. Dr Weidmann, a German critical-care specialist with a wide experience in horrific injuries, was told that Turia had sixty to seventy per cent full-thickness burns. Turia and Kate were currently in theatre undergoing debridement.
Dr Weidmann sprang into action; there were calls to be made – families to keep informed and arrangements for transfers. She had to find the Director of Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery, Mr Shiby Ninin, who was attending a conference, fortunately nearby. So busy were they that she paged an off-duty colleague, general surgeon, Dr Steven Hudson, to come in and help out for a few hours but the page went unanswered.
Later in the morning Michael, Gary, Genji, Angela and Célestine arrived at Darw
in Airport, where Gary rented a Tarago van, and they made their way to the hospital. On arrival they were escorted to the family room in the Trauma Response Centre.
It was here they met Gabby Weidmann and Belinda Nolan, Turia’s bedside nurse. The two medical professionals instantly recognised strong family support behind the anxiety. Dr Weidmann pulled no punches, telling them the outlook was grim, that Turia could die at any minute, and she gave them the reasons why. Célestine broke down. Before this they had dealt with the information through phone conversations, which somehow had made it more remote. Now it was real.
The family wanted to know how she looked. Célestine showed Belinda the photo of Turia in her graduation gown and cap and Belinda knew that was not the Turia they would see lying in ICU. She put her arm around Célestine as she explained Turia was very swollen, especially her face, and looked a bit like the Michelin Man; she was deeply sedated, had a breathing tube in and was attached to a ventilator. Belinda told them it would look very scary as there was a lot going on around Turia and that most of her body was covered in dressings.
The swelling, it was explained, resulted from the body’s initial reaction to a burns injury of this magnitude; it immediately starts releasing fluid into the damaged tissue. The fluid is drawn from the circulatory system, which contains the red blood cells, and from the fluid contained in the muscles. This causes profound changes in the body; one of them is oedema – where the body swells up and the blood inside the blood vessels becomes very thick. This is what had happened to Turia while she waited to be rescued and what made it impossible to get an IV drip into her.
The initial treatment was to flood her body with fluid to replace the fluid lost from her organs and keep her bloodstream working. In Turia’s case, the situation was exacerbated because she was already dehydrated at the time she was burnt.