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)

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

Trying to breathe when you are drowning

Ever had a newborn baby put into your arms and breathed them in? Like really breathed them in as though it were your last breath? I've been thinking of experiences that trump being high, and this is the most powerful that comes to mind. I have four nephews and was lucky enough to be present (and I … Continue reading Trying to breathe when you are drowning

I am an addict

I posted a rant on my chasing away salt water page earlier today, much of which I've included in this piece. It involves the Cystic Fibrosis community - my community, if you will - and my burning question was this: when will people start taking responsibility for their lives? Why are there GoFundMe pages being created to ask for … Continue reading I am an addict

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

The week that was …

Last weekend saw me help shepherd my sister out of the shadows of a broken marriage and into freedom. Freedom from years and seasons of pain and sacrifice, and freedom born out of an indelible cost to her humanity and identity as a woman. A big group of people who love her ferried her out of … Continue reading The week that was …

What will you do today?

This is a post I wrote on Sunday 21st February, 2010. It always brings what is truly important to the forefront of my mind. For just over an hour yesterday, I thought I was having a stroke. I woke with a headache, so when it didn't abate after I had eaten, I sucked back two … Continue reading What will you do today?