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?
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
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
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
Every morning of late, I stir in my bed until I feel that familiar pull on the roof of my mouth. Has someone thrown an ashtray in there? 'What is this?', I hiss Bellatrix Lestrange style, and with a swollen tongue and the inside of my mouth feeling akin to the skin of a cat (I'm more of a … Continue reading Getting mouthy
Histrionics aside, my body is losing against this infection. I refuse to say 'losing the fight' because I have an uncomfortable relationship with the militarisation of illness and death. But no matter what I put into my body, 'it is winning', as my doctor said this morning. He also wanted to re-admit me back into hospital, … Continue reading The good, the bad and whatever else happens
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 …
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?
Last night saw unprecedented measures of anger, disbelief and absolute exasperation surrounding the 60 Minutes interview with disgraced 'wellness' blogger and creator of The Whole Pantry empire, Belle Gibson. For once, I went against my better judgment and watched the interview and as a cancer survivor, I have a few things to say. Firstly, I … Continue reading Why I forgive Belle Gibson
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