A love letter to the Royal Melbourne Hospital Intensive Care Unit by Peter McCormack

Random breath testing had started in Victoria in 1976, but some drivers were slow to get the message. I have spent a lot of time thinking about this event, because it changed the course of my life, and almost ended it.

My injuries included a torn aorta, a torn trachea, a punctured lung, damage to my left anterior descending artery (LAD) which formed a fistula with the right ventricle, along with many broken bones and damage to the right frontal lobe, affecting speech and memory. I survived, because I was located in a paddock by police and delivered to the Royal Melbourne Hospital’s Intensive Care Unit (ICU).

My family was told I was unlikely to last a day, but I stayed in the RMH ICU for 30 long days. Last rites were read to me and my Death Certificate had been written out ready to be signed. The 15th June 2026 marks 48 years since the accident, and I’m still going strong. 

For saving my life 48 years ago I thank Jack Cade, the late George Westlake and the RMH’s incredible ICU team members at that time, especially Michael Mullerworth, Andrew Wallace, Andrew Thomson, Doug Wells, Beverley Kane, and a few others I’ve probably forgotten (it was a while ago, and I was a bit banged up). You have no idea how grateful I am to have had my life placed in your capable hands. Back then you did what you did without the benefit of ultrasounds, MRIs, and CT scans; now there are robots delivering things around the hospital. Wow.

There was no counselling for trauma patients in 1978 either, and it’s become important to me to understand what happened to me. My memories from that time are sometimes vague and other times crystal-clear, so I’ve spoken with Jack, George, police who’d attended the scene and family members to try and piece it all together.  Some memories stay with me - I remember the people who celebrated my 18th birthday with me in the ICU, and I still get shivers looking down the passage from the lifts to what was then the ICU, now 2 East. 

Many cases have passed through this incredible ICU and while you may sometimes wonder what happens to patients when they go home, there probably isn’t time to think about “what happens after” much.

Here’s what happened after – I learned to write and speak again, I went back to finish my apprenticeship, I married, bought a house, had two beautiful girls. I have grandkids, I’ve travelled, and I’m growing old with the love of my life. I’m a builder and I’ve built a lot of things of which I’m very proud, as have you all. I rebuild houses, but you rebuild lives.

48 years have passed since the day that could have and should have been my last, and I’m more grateful to you all with every day that passes. Words cannot convey the depth of my feelings - I am forever grateful to this team.

Peter McCormack
Patient # 3905