My summer of love

Earlier in the week, someone asked me what I was up to. You know, what I'd been doing. 'Reading, writing, stuff ...' But mainly reading and writing and hanging out with my sister and my nephews, working, planning, walking and dreaming. It's true - I'm an abject failure of a social butterfly (although I did actually … Continue reading My summer of love

Song of the Week #4

I'm trying to birth a poem at the moment, and I need to get away from words. Last week, I had so much going on with my addiction post that I didn't post Song of the Week number four. So, I've made it a goodie - 'Samson' by Russian singer Regina Spektor. Seriously, how did she get … Continue reading Song of the Week #4

Happy Birthday, M

For M.E.B We became another death (the fulfilment of my internship). Like a false syncope, my grief would not let me claim you. You came to me with bleeding gums and a dent in your jaw, your broken gait like a barber cutting through walls of plasticine with blunt scissors. Bruised pride; your face a field of … Continue reading Happy Birthday, M

The night I lived again: part two

By the time it was definite that the donor lungs were a match, there would have been at least thirty-five people at the hospital – all friends and family. Even a friend’s boyfriend (now husband) had driven down from uni at Gatton, so he could be there for both me, his now wife and my … Continue reading The night I lived again: part two

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

Haiku at the hospital

Waiting. I do a lot of it. Instead of people watching or reading, today I wrote down these during an emergency clinic appointment. I've been a little generous with the traditional 5,7,5 form of haiku. After all, I'm no Basho ... Brooding black cockatoo, beak smooth like old rosin, honeyed and forgotten. * Tawny frogmouth, … Continue reading Haiku at the hospital

Autopsy of a marriage

Thrumming away from each other like broken mountains, by your second year, you had been excommunicated. Wrought by the passage of God, your clipped speech and ruddy cheeks made it hurt to be alive.   Her dowry – platelets swimming under skin and a fertile womb. Yours – a cellar of wine and an insistent mother whose teat you … Continue reading Autopsy of a marriage

Learning to Die: my TEDx talk

Yesterday my TEDx talk went live on TEDx Brisbane's YouTube channel, and I've had an almost overwhelming response about speaking about my life (and deaths), and my beliefs and truths about death and dying. Here it is - Learning to Die. I've been bathing in the beautiful waters of Death Walking training over the last two days, the last … Continue reading Learning to Die: my TEDx talk