“Can I add a next of kin?” I ask the woman at my window during my shift in the radiology reception of a busy Melbourne hospital. Part of my role is to screen patients to check if the scan is safe for them, and we often need to contact a next of kin for this. The light slips from her eyes. “No one,” she says. “I don’t have anyone. I’m alone here.” She has a Spanish name and accent. I wonder how long she has lived in Australia. I think of offering to be her next of kin, since I speak Spanish and don’t have family in Australia either.
That afternoon I book an appointment for a smiley, curly haired woman who jokes with her adult daughter. The woman needs a scan with sedation. She needs someone to take her home afterwards but her daughter is only here on holiday as she lives in another state. The woman has no one to pick her up. I wonder about other patients, the ones with booked appointments who often don’t attend. Are they sacrificing their health because they have no support?
