The birth of my fourth decade

I've been thinking about my thirties. About how they started, and how they're about to end. Ten years ago at my thirtieth birthday party, I was bloated from massive doses of steroids I'd had to have earlier in the year due to a serious respiratory virus. I was puffy faced and swollen, and going into my third … Continue reading The birth of my fourth decade

Ch-Ch-Ch-Chaaaaaanges

Someone I've known for just shy of twenty years said something to me back in September, and I've been ruminating over it as I approach my fortieth birthday. We were talking about our inner voice. You know, about what we say to our selves in the quiet of our hearts; the things we think, but keep … Continue reading Ch-Ch-Ch-Chaaaaaanges

A love letter to my lungs on this, your eighteenth birthday

Tonight as the waning moon floats between shelves of cloud - the stars liquid and alive - I will whisper, 'I am still here.' A bittersweet offering, but one I cast into the world as a call to arms. With each passing year, I harvest guilt, siphoning off grief as I pick the fruit and plant more seeds for … Continue reading A love letter to my lungs on this, your eighteenth birthday

Speaking my truth (and a whole lot of fact)

In May, I was invited to speak at the P.A's clinical ethics forum for National Palliative Care week. This year's theme was 'Living Well with Chronic Illness', and before the forum, I met with three lovely ladies to mull over what I might like to discuss in my talk (sex? It was a unanimous YES). … Continue reading Speaking my truth (and a whole lot of fact)

Riding on elephants and other shit I haven’t done

Shot a gun ✔ I did my firearms safety training in January. Be afraid. Very afraid. Gone on a blind date ✔ Oh, the horror. Skipped school ✔ Watched someone give birth ✔✔ My eldest and youngest nephews, now 14 and 9 respectively. It was an absolute honour. Watched someone die ✔✔✔✔ I think I've … Continue reading Riding on elephants and other shit I haven’t done

When you get punched in the face

A couple of years after my transplant, I was assaulted. Had the shit beaten out of me. What made it even more shameful, was that I was beaten up by a girl. Of course this rationale has evolved with the gradual unfurling of my life and hard won wisdom, so I know that it doesn't matter who … Continue reading When you get punched in the face

The bitter taste of defeat and failure

Always expect the unexpected. Be prepared like a girl scout without the rules (but with the cookies). That's always been one of my life's mottos. After taking my last ever dose of opiate antagonist therapy last Friday, I was relieved when I only had some minor restless limbs when I turned in for bed that evening. … Continue reading The bitter taste of defeat and failure

Eight years in remission – viva la vulva!

I never thought I would see another eight years. Really, I didn't. After my cancer surgery in 2007, my oncologist was certain that more cancer would grow, that the surgery I had wouldn't hold, and that I'd die. Thankfully that hasn't happened, and today marks eight years since I underwent the surgery to save my life. … Continue reading Eight years in remission – viva la vulva!

My night without armour

May-August 1998 I was in the dying room. You know the one. It's quiet. People slip in and out as though they were never there. Festering in a bed for three months, I had grown tired. My arms were the shape of soft baguettes, peppered with freckles like sesame seeds. Lips, a permanent shade of blue. Colourless … Continue reading My night without armour

(dis)connection

Yesterday was all about disconnection. After having another high-ish white cell count and another blood result that can be indicative of infection, rejection (it's not rejection) or inflammation, my IV antibiotics were ceased because I've pretty much had all my body can take. Because it's been two weeks, my CV line also had to be pulled. After … Continue reading (dis)connection