The news.

The news.

I should have known. I had been waiting for this news. I had given myself permission to accept it could happen. I dared to be believe that it would. So it follows, naturally, that it wouldn’t. I should have known. I looked down at my hands and interlocked my fingers...

read more
The recovery.

The recovery.

The first time I actually got a real glimpse of the intensive care unit was as I was leaving. Until then, I had seen nothing more than a revolving roster of nurses. The white walls and ceiling. Knowing nods from my doctors. Warm smiles from my beautiful family. As the...

read more
The surgery.

The surgery.

Before I can tell you about the surgery, I need to tell you this: writing started as a distraction. It was intentional, to take me out of the woods, to somewhere bright and warm and clear. And I knew, in truth, that my cancer monopolised me. Especially in the...

read more
The shocks.

The shocks.

First, I felt the ants. Their little legs tickling mine. I felt them as I sat quietly at the dining room table. I felt them as I wandered around the supermarket. I felt them boldly marching over my skin as I jumped and yelped and slapped at them. And then, just as...

read more
The rethink.

The rethink.

I am about to make a small request. I am already uncomfortable about it. But my feisty-writer-self will not let me proceed to other ideas without first getting this off my chest. So here it goes: I do not wish to offend or intrude – but would like to ask that you...

read more
The elephant.

The elephant.

‘Alright. Deep breath’. So I do. I take a deep breath. In. I forget if I exhale. I steady myself. It’s time. I walk into the room; a room, any room. It’s the same each time. Before the eyes, before the smiles, before the embraces. Before all of that, I wonder: ‘Who is...

read more
The fight.

The fight.

I’ll admit, I have imagined music playing at the conclusion of my funeral. More than once, actually. Anxiously chewed my cheek and let a series of notes to an unnamed song fill my head. It is not the most inspiring of day dreams. And once a thought like that enters my...

read more
The bounce.

The bounce.

Tuesdays are probably the nastiest days. Chemo Tuesdays. They are my low point. I am on a fortnightly chemotherapy treatment schedule. This means every second Monday, I have an in-hospital treatment on the Epworth Eastern Day Oncology ward that lasts around six hours....

read more
The change.

The change.

Last night, my beautiful baby boy feel asleep in my arms. In our dark bedroom, a little after midnight, I felt his head relax into the crook of my elbow, and saw his eyes rest shut. It was a moment of pure perfection. This was the first time I have had a sleeping baby...

read more
The mind.

The mind.

The tears fell thick and fast. I felt confused. Defeated. It had been a nice morning. I had woken up feeling good, feeling strong. My body ached from yesterday’s workout – and that was a great thing. Joshua was having a morning nap and I had a chance to think about...

read more