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
Today I found the most amazing resource for people - young people - who have ileostomies and stomas (poo bags). You can read about my experience with my poo bag HERE. Ever so glamorous, though it was really the most harrowing time of my life and I physically and spiritually felt a part of myself disappear. … Continue reading Where was this when I needed it?
I have super exciting news. Yesterday, I was asked to speak at Brisbane's TEDx event in October. In case you haven't heard about TEDx, click here to find out what an inspiring global platform where people such as Bill Gates, Liz Gilbert, Jane Goodall and Al Gore have shared their ideas. The 2014 speakers have … Continue reading I’m going to be a TEDx talker!
I am, right now, stuck in that stinking, mephitic mire that is grief. It is as though I am cemented to the one place. Just about everything hurts, and just about everything makes me cry. Some photographs arrived in my inbox around lunchtime, and that mallet of sorrow swung a blow so hard that I lost … Continue reading Another angel at my table
A protest to protect my LIFE - tomorrow night This is really fucking urgent. Tomorrow night, I'm going to do my damndest to be at the Convention Centre in Brisbane to fight for my doctors; to ensure that they are there for me and the thousands of other people they save day in, day out in … Continue reading A protest to protect my LIFE – tomorrow night
There are far more certainties in the world than death and taxes. There is bad coffee, love, storms in the summer, things you cannot have, and then there's choosing the wrong people for ourselves. In 2008 - not long after I had fought so furiously for my life and survived an eight-hour surgery where I … Continue reading Trapped, or The first and last time I’ll ever write about this