With a little help from my friends?

I don't usually share fundraisers, and I don't have any time for often vacuous fundraising campaigns, but this one is so far from vacuous, I don't even know where to start. I've said time and time again that Cystic Fibrosis is a fucker of a disease. It takes everything both necessary and dear to you … Continue reading With a little help from my friends?

Transplanniversary, with a solar eclipse chaser

We all reach places in life. Crossroads, turning points, junctures, choices, decisions - even Rubicon moments. For me, after nineteen years, I've reached a place of happiness and peace having come into the quiet of my heart. I feel settled. Life is simple, so I'm going with the ease and grace of that. I've done … Continue reading Transplanniversary, with a solar eclipse chaser

The Spirit of Things

For the last eighteen months, I've been on the organising committee for the 2017 Spiritual Care Australia conference, alongside three other incredible spiritual carers, Tanya, David and Pauline. Earlier in the month, the three day spiritual bonanza/lovefest was held on the Gold Coast where it was a resounding success (no, I'm not being biased - we kicked … Continue reading The Spirit of Things

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 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 to … 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

Where in the world are you, Carmen Sandiego?

Life. It gets in the way. That's why I haven't blogged for three months because there's been a lot going on. For the last month or so, I've been down with the lurgy (the flu), but after two courses of antibiotics, probiotics, lots of vitamins, good food and rest, I'm on my way to being back … Continue reading Where in the world are you, Carmen Sandiego?

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