Running across Melb so they can fly across Aus!

In Jan 2026, a roadtrip from Melb across the South Australian coast took a turn... and then it got worse.

It was New Years Eve, Kangaroo Island when the pain kicked in - I really wish I knew then just how bad things were under the surface. Come New Years Day, we packed up camp and journeyed onwards to Port Lincoln (via a night in Adelaide and some blood + urine tests in Port Augusta). My partner and I were looking forward to finally setting-up the rooftop tent and getting comfy by the water!

One night passes with a somewhat restful sleep thanks to Keith being buggered from the drive and my maxing out the ibuprofen and nurofen intake. The second night does not go as smoothly. I am pained to the point of restlessness and having a worse fever than I had experienced in long time. We wake up early and Keith makes the call: we're driving to Port Lincoln hospital. I am beyond grateful for I was cognitively subpar and struggling to consider options.

The verdict: the UTI I was medicated for was resistant to the prescribed antibodies I had been taking. And, it had likely now progressed to a kidney infection.

Remember the turn? Well, that was it. Here comes ‘the worse.'

I was given IV antibiotics and admitted for observation overnight. At this point, the worst part was missing our holiday - it had been all we spoke of for so long. The next day, I was not getting better. The fever was extraordinary, so much so that I was convulsing and unable to feel warm. The doctors on duty took further blood tests, continued the IV antibiotics and ordered an MRI of my kidneys to confirm diagnosis. A blood test result came back saying I had glandular fever - no wonder my body was shutting down. When the MRI results came in the next day, the tone of treatment changed. It was serious. The scan of my kidneys captured more than what was expected:  heart failure.

Now I needed to be at a large hospital with infrastructure that could respond to heart failure. Port Lincoln was 7 hours drive from Adelaide. An ambulance can’t make that trip, and while beautiful Keith would have taken me if it had to be done, if anything went wrong on that drive, there was no back-up hospital and he was no heart specialist. The primary doctor assigned to my case quickly contacted the RFDS and the Royal Adelaide Hospital with 1 message: I needed an immediate transfer.

The logistics would be tricky: finding and assigning a crew and plane to make the trip while ensuring priority passengers all across Australia are looked after. At this point, I was on as much endone as was possible and couldn’t grapple with the implications of heart failure let alone comprehend the transfer situation. I went to sleep knowing that the RFDS were onto it, and at 2am I was woken up by a nurse saying it was time for the transfer.

Now, let me reiterate, I was on a lot of endone. An ambulance took me from hospital to the airbase where 2 absolute legends helped me onto a stretcher and then into the plane. My silly brain thought this was the coolest thing I had ever had the honour to experience. I mean, a small plane, meeting the pilot, seeing how the RFDS functions?! Incredible! (Heart failure? I’ll think about that some other time…)

The 2 crew made me feel super comfortable. They shared some silly jokes, made me laugh and, admirably, laughed at my endone-fueled silly jokes. The were professional the whole time, gave me an extra blanket on the plan and checked in on my painkiller intake - yes, I was due for another round and would definitely be taking it. 

Landing in Adelaide, they made me feel safe and beyond well looked after. They ensured my handover to the paramedics (tasked with taking me to hospital) was smooth and organised between them, so I didn’t need to retell my story or remember details.

It was this moment that I started to recognise the magnitude of what had just happened… But it would be another few days until it sunk in that within a few hours of being told I had heart failure, the RFDS was coordinating my transfer to Adelaide. Within 12 hours, I was assigned a transfer. Within only another few hours of that, I was on a plane.

Now, the health details from here on are all wonderful. After many - many - tests, IV treatments, pills and conversations with doctors, I was cleared of all infections. My heart was returning to normal. After a whole 10 days of treatment/hospitalisation across Port Lincoln and Adelaide, I was released - and boy, it felt exciting! I was beyond excited to head home with Keith, who had been by my side through all of this - who had driven me to hospital, then drove solo to Adelaide when I was flown, and slept in motel rooms while I was sleeping in hospital beds. 

So, to the 2 legends from the RFDS who took me to Adelaide, and the countless staff that make trips like this possible, thank you.