What’s in a year? A relapse, apparently.
I was determined to make it a year without a relapse of Neuromyelitis Optica. I’m not convinced at all that determination has anything to do with when my spinal cord […]
NHS: ‘Channels’ before People?
So that’s a 14 hour wait for treatment. 14 hours of my immune system attacking my spinal cord. 14 hours of inflammation leading to permanent damage of nerves – the nerves that help me walk, see, urinate, breathe. NMO causes permanent disability. NMO can kill.
Disability is absolutely fine, for everyone but me.
“Don’t film me looking disabled.” Those weren’t my exact words, I said “Do you have to film me walking up the stairs?” but I only said it because I think […]
The MRI machine of certain death.
“…it’ll be nice to be reversed into a tube not much bigger than myself, a tube that can rip metal from your insides and SEE INSIDE YOUR BRAIN. ”
Chasing Falling Stars
Sometimes you don’t know what it is that’s been missing until you’re crying with relief in your kitchen after a day filming with BBC 3.
Skipping
We laid face to face on the sofa, as we often do. I was trying to explain how it feels knowing how to skip, but not being able to make […]
Social Justice, Dignity, and Invisibility (Patrick Harvie got me thinking).
I recently joined the Scottish Green Party and attended my first branch meeting in Stirling. Patrick Harvie (co-convenor) spoke to the branch about a range of issues, but two things […]
A Spell for the Unwell
So what do you do when the tables are turned? When you are the one struggling to cope? When you are the one needing help? When you could do with a wish?
Mrs Drummond’s Memories
When you offered me your dead husbands sun-visor I didn’t quite know how to react. Firstly I thought I’d look ridiculous in an oversized man’s golf visor. And secondly, why would you give the last remaining item of your husbands clothing to me, the young woman that just moved in over the road?
My naked, paralysed arse.
My naked arse was protruding from a hole in a plastic chair and there was a strange man in the room. He wore a red bow tie and I could see his nipples through his shirt.
At Least I'm Writing 