- Published on
Late Friday afternoon
In Brooklyn
The sky, bright blue
With a sun
Still hours from sleep
Along Stratford Road
Arab, Jewish, Latino
Children play on the sidewalk
Skip and yell and laugh
Push younger siblings in prams
Draw chalk pictures and lines
Into the cement
People walk their dogs
Run with
Headphones plugged in
Feet pounding
In the runner’s shuffle
Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa!
Cars blare music
Setting the mood for Friday night
A child cries, comforted by its mother because it fell off its scooter
A fire truck races, horn blaring
Lights flashing
At the edge of the park
Three small boys perch in the gazebo
Plotting mischief
Dad is busy at the grill
Mom chats with neighbors
A woman sits reading in dappled sunlight
She sits in close proximity to her parked car
Where she has left her phone, wallet and handbag
She has told her husband she is working late
Further down
A family sits eating pizza
The large box obscures the child
As you walk past
You see him munching on a cheese slice
At the baseball field
The men’s games are in progress
A little girl
Three or four,
Wearing pink floral leggings under a baby blue dress
A purple scarf over her long dark braids
Walks by with her mother
The girl giggles for no apparent reason
The mother gives her a look
They keep walking
In the other direction
A mother and her little boy
Three or four
Walk by
Don’t touch it honey
People should really pick up their own dog’s poop
It’s not Harry’s poop?
HARRY’S POOP!
Two girls on bicycles come tearing by
The smaller girl yells
LET’S RACE-3-2-1-GO!
I realize
That for a whole half hour
I wasn’t even thinking about cancer.
In Brooklyn
The sky, bright blue
With a sun
Still hours from sleep
Along Stratford Road
Arab, Jewish, Latino
Children play on the sidewalk
Skip and yell and laugh
Push younger siblings in prams
Draw chalk pictures and lines
Into the cement
People walk their dogs
Run with
Headphones plugged in
Feet pounding
In the runner’s shuffle
Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa!
Cars blare music
Setting the mood for Friday night
A child cries, comforted by its mother because it fell off its scooter
A fire truck races, horn blaring
Lights flashing
At the edge of the park
Three small boys perch in the gazebo
Plotting mischief
Dad is busy at the grill
Mom chats with neighbors
A woman sits reading in dappled sunlight
She sits in close proximity to her parked car
Where she has left her phone, wallet and handbag
She has told her husband she is working late
Further down
A family sits eating pizza
The large box obscures the child
As you walk past
You see him munching on a cheese slice
At the baseball field
The men’s games are in progress
A little girl
Three or four,
Wearing pink floral leggings under a baby blue dress
A purple scarf over her long dark braids
Walks by with her mother
The girl giggles for no apparent reason
The mother gives her a look
They keep walking
In the other direction
A mother and her little boy
Three or four
Walk by
Don’t touch it honey
People should really pick up their own dog’s poop
It’s not Harry’s poop?
HARRY’S POOP!
Two girls on bicycles come tearing by
The smaller girl yells
LET’S RACE-3-2-1-GO!
I realize
That for a whole half hour
I wasn’t even thinking about cancer.
- Published on
The Brooklyn Half Marathon
When I was 8 or 9
We lived with our grandparents
Abuelo had a treadmill in his study
The machine was loud and clunky
With a clangy bell timer
One day I decided I want to use it
I stepped on, set the timer for 15 minutes
And ran
Much to my own amazement
Without stopping
I was able to run the full 15 minutes
Running was something
I could just do
I remember running the
School cross country
Four laps of the school’s perimeter
Starting and finishing on the school oval
When I was 12
I came 2nd and went to the
District competition
The track was through the
Bush at the St Ives Showground
The week before I’d had a serious flu
On race day I felt good
I remember the final moments of the race
I had a huge surge of energy
Sprinted for the finish line
Another girl and I were neck-a-neck
She pulled ahead at the last moment
Taking the final regional position
I think I felt proud I’d run a good race
If only I hadn’t been sick the week before!
The following year
My first of year of high school
I made it to district again
We walked the track in preparation
I felt self-conscious around the
Taller, more lithe looking girls
They were Runners
I was… not?
I ran throughout high school
Never quite re-attaining my 12 year-old-self’s glory
At some grown-ups insistence
I did Little Athletics for a bit
“In case I changed my mind about running and wanted to try something else”
(Why couldn’t I just run?)
I enjoyed it
But still felt self-conscious around the other girls
I wasn’t quite right
Too slow
Too small
Not enough
I ran less at uni
Pre-occupied with
Classes and socializing
During a bout of depression
I finally went running again
While on a downhill slope
A total stranger told me to
Stop trying so hard
(Whoever you were, lady, fuck off).
A horrible break-up
Got me running again
I decided to run
The City the Surf
It was glorious
The following year I ran
The New Milford 8
It had none of the atmosphere of Sydney
The course was an utter bitch
Drama school took over
I started again on my birthday
When I was in Fort Collins
(At altitude)
With a brand new pair of trainers
And an app on my phone
Back in London
I ran in Gladstone Park
I ran in Ruislip and fell in love with
Running to the lido
In the south of London I
Ran after work a few times a week
Avoided the cold by walking the
Miles of underground tunnels
Connecting the tube stations
I ran in Fort Collins
Built up to 10km 2-3 times a week
Looped around the lake
The cemetery
The circumference of the park
Listening to audio books
I ran in rain and snow and
Under gorgeous bright blue skies
The polar vortex hit
I tried using the treadmill at
Local indoor pool
I hated it
A month later
I started again
Even short runs were painful
I started running with a new friend
Night runs
Trail runs
Runs where we dreamed about mini houses
I was winded easily
And tired
She would do handstands and encourage me to keep going
Had the polar vortex frozen my fitness?
Six weeks later
I was diagnosed with leukemia
The infections on my legs
Combined with
Debilitating chemo
Meant I had to walk with a walking frame
Hand-foot syndrome
(a reaction to chemo)
Made it painful to even walk to the toilet
The past few weeks
On my to hospital appointments
I've seen people
Running
Along the East River
Counting breaths
Timing paces
Wearing stretchy pants and
Lightweight jackets
I want to be one of them again
Those people who get up early and
Fit in a run before work
That delicious post-run feeling
When you’re full of endorphins
The runner’s high
This morning I watched the
Brooklyn Half Marathon
The course went right by our street
There weren’t too many spectators
It felt safe to be out
The sight of people running
The sound of feet along the pavement
Spectators with cowbells cheer the runners on
You can do this!
You got this!
Let’s go!
Some of the runners cheer back
Yeah!
Thank you for being here!
Celebratory “WOO!!”s
Triumphant high 5s as they pass
The humanity of a running race
I want to run again
Imagine being that person
Who can run 15 minutes without stopping
Imagine that it’s something
You can just do.
We lived with our grandparents
Abuelo had a treadmill in his study
The machine was loud and clunky
With a clangy bell timer
One day I decided I want to use it
I stepped on, set the timer for 15 minutes
And ran
Much to my own amazement
Without stopping
I was able to run the full 15 minutes
Running was something
I could just do
I remember running the
School cross country
Four laps of the school’s perimeter
Starting and finishing on the school oval
When I was 12
I came 2nd and went to the
District competition
The track was through the
Bush at the St Ives Showground
The week before I’d had a serious flu
On race day I felt good
I remember the final moments of the race
I had a huge surge of energy
Sprinted for the finish line
Another girl and I were neck-a-neck
She pulled ahead at the last moment
Taking the final regional position
I think I felt proud I’d run a good race
If only I hadn’t been sick the week before!
The following year
My first of year of high school
I made it to district again
We walked the track in preparation
I felt self-conscious around the
Taller, more lithe looking girls
They were Runners
I was… not?
I ran throughout high school
Never quite re-attaining my 12 year-old-self’s glory
At some grown-ups insistence
I did Little Athletics for a bit
“In case I changed my mind about running and wanted to try something else”
(Why couldn’t I just run?)
I enjoyed it
But still felt self-conscious around the other girls
I wasn’t quite right
Too slow
Too small
Not enough
I ran less at uni
Pre-occupied with
Classes and socializing
During a bout of depression
I finally went running again
While on a downhill slope
A total stranger told me to
Stop trying so hard
(Whoever you were, lady, fuck off).
A horrible break-up
Got me running again
I decided to run
The City the Surf
It was glorious
The following year I ran
The New Milford 8
It had none of the atmosphere of Sydney
The course was an utter bitch
Drama school took over
I started again on my birthday
When I was in Fort Collins
(At altitude)
With a brand new pair of trainers
And an app on my phone
Back in London
I ran in Gladstone Park
I ran in Ruislip and fell in love with
Running to the lido
In the south of London I
Ran after work a few times a week
Avoided the cold by walking the
Miles of underground tunnels
Connecting the tube stations
I ran in Fort Collins
Built up to 10km 2-3 times a week
Looped around the lake
The cemetery
The circumference of the park
Listening to audio books
I ran in rain and snow and
Under gorgeous bright blue skies
The polar vortex hit
I tried using the treadmill at
Local indoor pool
I hated it
A month later
I started again
Even short runs were painful
I started running with a new friend
Night runs
Trail runs
Runs where we dreamed about mini houses
I was winded easily
And tired
She would do handstands and encourage me to keep going
Had the polar vortex frozen my fitness?
Six weeks later
I was diagnosed with leukemia
The infections on my legs
Combined with
Debilitating chemo
Meant I had to walk with a walking frame
Hand-foot syndrome
(a reaction to chemo)
Made it painful to even walk to the toilet
The past few weeks
On my to hospital appointments
I've seen people
Running
Along the East River
Counting breaths
Timing paces
Wearing stretchy pants and
Lightweight jackets
I want to be one of them again
Those people who get up early and
Fit in a run before work
That delicious post-run feeling
When you’re full of endorphins
The runner’s high
This morning I watched the
Brooklyn Half Marathon
The course went right by our street
There weren’t too many spectators
It felt safe to be out
The sight of people running
The sound of feet along the pavement
Spectators with cowbells cheer the runners on
You can do this!
You got this!
Let’s go!
Some of the runners cheer back
Yeah!
Thank you for being here!
Celebratory “WOO!!”s
Triumphant high 5s as they pass
The humanity of a running race
I want to run again
Imagine being that person
Who can run 15 minutes without stopping
Imagine that it’s something
You can just do.
- Published on
This week has included:
This week has included:
- Migraines
- Mood swings
- Rapid weight gain
- Severe reflux (it burns. IT BURNS)
- Demobilizing fatigue
- Discovery that my thyroid has (temporarily, we hope) stopped working. Accounts for all above symptoms. Will start to feel benefits of hormone replacement in approximately a month.
- Realizing my long and luscious eyelashes have fallen out, leaving tiny little stumpy lashes
- Yelling at the health insurance until they get their shit sorted out
This week has included:
- Ability to walk again
- A lovely mission. Friends participated unprompted, and sent me their own lovelies.
- Messages from unexpected people
- Visits from wonderful friends
- Blossoms
- Magnolias
- Piano lessons
- Online poetry course
- Online song writing course
- My husband surprising me with an ice cream maker
- RAINBOW LIGHT UP SHOES
- Several potential paid work-from-home gigs
- An apology from the health insurance and actual movement on their end
- More energy
- Published on
Today has been a Very. Hard. Day.
Personally speaking, and in the world. My thyroid doesn't work any more. The radiation zapped it into oblivion. It explains the mood swings and fatigue. I stopped one drug, only to discover I have to start two more. Accessing mental health care is like searching for a needle in a haystack. The people who are supposed to help you are trapped in a system seemingly designed to make you insane.
The grief being felt in my home country. The destruction in Nepal. The fear and anger in Baltimore.
Sometimes, it all feels too much. So I went for a walk. My mission was to find the lovely. More than ever, I need lovely. I need to feel, that at least on some level, it's all going to be ok. Despite the destruction of my body. Despite the destruction in the world.
On my walk, I found spring. Pink and white blossoms. Magnolias. Tulips all colors of the rainbow because someone had cared to plant them. A sweet chalk drawing on the pavement. Children playing. People out running. Colorful rows of houses. Washing on a line, evidence of someone had made use of the sunny day to dry their clothes.
Tiny pockets. But enough.
Personally speaking, and in the world. My thyroid doesn't work any more. The radiation zapped it into oblivion. It explains the mood swings and fatigue. I stopped one drug, only to discover I have to start two more. Accessing mental health care is like searching for a needle in a haystack. The people who are supposed to help you are trapped in a system seemingly designed to make you insane.
The grief being felt in my home country. The destruction in Nepal. The fear and anger in Baltimore.
Sometimes, it all feels too much. So I went for a walk. My mission was to find the lovely. More than ever, I need lovely. I need to feel, that at least on some level, it's all going to be ok. Despite the destruction of my body. Despite the destruction in the world.
On my walk, I found spring. Pink and white blossoms. Magnolias. Tulips all colors of the rainbow because someone had cared to plant them. A sweet chalk drawing on the pavement. Children playing. People out running. Colorful rows of houses. Washing on a line, evidence of someone had made use of the sunny day to dry their clothes.
Tiny pockets. But enough.
- Published on
At the park with the wonderful Molly
The sky was blue
It was almost warm enough to not be wearing a coat
I had enough energy
To walk to the park
(And back!)
And in the park
We sat by the lake
There were ducks and geese and swans
And people out running
Cycling, horse-riding
And enjoying the sun
More people than I have seen in months
They weren't having blood drawn
Or labs recorded
Or cancers checked
And it felt
So. Damn. Good.
It was almost warm enough to not be wearing a coat
I had enough energy
To walk to the park
(And back!)
And in the park
We sat by the lake
There were ducks and geese and swans
And people out running
Cycling, horse-riding
And enjoying the sun
More people than I have seen in months
They weren't having blood drawn
Or labs recorded
Or cancers checked
And it felt
So. Damn. Good.
- Published on
For over half your life
The Dream has been
To live in
New York City
Centre of the universe
Land of the Broadway musical
The most sung about
Danced in locale
On the face of the earth
Your childhood
Disney musical diet
Led you to believe that
You meet the prince
You fall in love, and,
Your dreams come true
But what if
Cinderella
Escapes her broom
Marries the prince
Moves into the castle, and
Gets cancer?
Because you have
Escaped your hometown
Fallen in love
Married your sweet prince
Moved to New York
And gotten cancer
And it changes everything.
You're finally living in the city of your dreams
Broadway is a subway ride away
But you can't ride the subway
Because your immune system is compromised
Because it was wiped out and replaced with stem cells from your sister
After you had three rounds of chemo
After you stood in a contraption,
Your arms tied in straps
Your waist cinched in a harness
Lest you collapse,
Fifty shades this ain't
Fifty shades of cancer treatment
Full body irradiation
That you can't feel, see, smell, or taste
But make you throw up your insides
And leave you feeling utterly, utterly drained and helpless
All that, after you were told
You. Have. Cancer.
Tell five years ago Me,
A year ago even,
Your dreams come true.
You live in New York
You marry a prince
(Truly, he's the most wonderful gentleman)
But you'll have to wait to
Really Enjoy It
No subways, no takeout,
No coffees in cafes in
Uptown, or downtown
Or even Brooklyn
No being in crowds
And definitely no Broadway.
We thought that
100 days post-transplant
I would have more freedom
So we waited out
Three months and a bit
A bone marrow biopsy
And two weeks more
To be told
My immune system is still weak
Crowds are dangerous
The subway is a seething cesspit of germs
All food needs to be cooked at home
Broadway will have to wait
A little longer
Life happens, as it does
And always will
Dreams do come true
Just in unexpected ways
With unexpected turns
You readjust and
Nurture the dream
Watch it on the shelf
And promise you'll take it down soon.
The Dream has been
To live in
New York City
Centre of the universe
Land of the Broadway musical
The most sung about
Danced in locale
On the face of the earth
Your childhood
Disney musical diet
Led you to believe that
You meet the prince
You fall in love, and,
Your dreams come true
But what if
Cinderella
Escapes her broom
Marries the prince
Moves into the castle, and
Gets cancer?
Because you have
Escaped your hometown
Fallen in love
Married your sweet prince
Moved to New York
And gotten cancer
And it changes everything.
You're finally living in the city of your dreams
Broadway is a subway ride away
But you can't ride the subway
Because your immune system is compromised
Because it was wiped out and replaced with stem cells from your sister
After you had three rounds of chemo
After you stood in a contraption,
Your arms tied in straps
Your waist cinched in a harness
Lest you collapse,
Fifty shades this ain't
Fifty shades of cancer treatment
Full body irradiation
That you can't feel, see, smell, or taste
But make you throw up your insides
And leave you feeling utterly, utterly drained and helpless
All that, after you were told
You. Have. Cancer.
Tell five years ago Me,
A year ago even,
Your dreams come true.
You live in New York
You marry a prince
(Truly, he's the most wonderful gentleman)
But you'll have to wait to
Really Enjoy It
No subways, no takeout,
No coffees in cafes in
Uptown, or downtown
Or even Brooklyn
No being in crowds
And definitely no Broadway.
We thought that
100 days post-transplant
I would have more freedom
So we waited out
Three months and a bit
A bone marrow biopsy
And two weeks more
To be told
My immune system is still weak
Crowds are dangerous
The subway is a seething cesspit of germs
All food needs to be cooked at home
Broadway will have to wait
A little longer
Life happens, as it does
And always will
Dreams do come true
Just in unexpected ways
With unexpected turns
You readjust and
Nurture the dream
Watch it on the shelf
And promise you'll take it down soon.
- Published on
Watching the movie musical
Of the musical
That has been in my life
Longer than five years
Memories of my interactions with the show
Flood back
Early uni days
In Sydney
When cast albums became accessible
And the internet made
Broadway
Not so far away
And I “discovered”
Jason Robert Brown and
The Last Five Years
Working on the student production
Lighting op with Len
Who became one of my dearest friends
The musty smell of Fig Tree Theatre
Watching the production at Sydney Uni
Directed by Benita, now at Columbia
Starring Blake, now in Blood Brothers
And Lexi, now an opera singer in Berlin
An early date with the boy
Who I thought would be husband
We were engaged in September 2009
And by February 2010
Five years ago
It was all over.
And then it all began.
I quit my day job
I started meditating
I saw JRB in concert
I auditioned for drama school
I moved to London
I fell in love
I walked across Spain
I moved to Colorado
I got married
We moved to New York
I got fucking cancer
I sat in my lounge room and watched
The Last Five Years movie musical
On demand. Because you can do that now.
Seeing New York flit across the screen
Your new home town
Soon you’ll join the line of girls
Belting as high as they can
And you’ve been through that break-up
You’ve felt that euphoria
Goodbye until tomorrow
And you just have to be patient
For the next ten minutes
And that score
The way it catches in your throat
Breaks your heart
And brings back all these memories of
The last five years.
Of the musical
That has been in my life
Longer than five years
Memories of my interactions with the show
Flood back
Early uni days
In Sydney
When cast albums became accessible
And the internet made
Broadway
Not so far away
And I “discovered”
Jason Robert Brown and
The Last Five Years
Working on the student production
Lighting op with Len
Who became one of my dearest friends
The musty smell of Fig Tree Theatre
Watching the production at Sydney Uni
Directed by Benita, now at Columbia
Starring Blake, now in Blood Brothers
And Lexi, now an opera singer in Berlin
An early date with the boy
Who I thought would be husband
We were engaged in September 2009
And by February 2010
Five years ago
It was all over.
And then it all began.
I quit my day job
I started meditating
I saw JRB in concert
I auditioned for drama school
I moved to London
I fell in love
I walked across Spain
I moved to Colorado
I got married
We moved to New York
I got fucking cancer
I sat in my lounge room and watched
The Last Five Years movie musical
On demand. Because you can do that now.
Seeing New York flit across the screen
Your new home town
Soon you’ll join the line of girls
Belting as high as they can
And you’ve been through that break-up
You’ve felt that euphoria
Goodbye until tomorrow
And you just have to be patient
For the next ten minutes
And that score
The way it catches in your throat
Breaks your heart
And brings back all these memories of
The last five years.
- Published on
I had two weeks of bliss
Commencing around New Year’s Day
Where I had no symptoms
The nausea was gone
The fatigue was gone
I had energy back
And I was starting to feel more like myself
I was writing every day
Practising yoga
Meditating
Cooking
Reading
Enjoying my imposed convalescence
Then I started a new chemo drug
It targets the chromosomal mutation
Which makes a relapse more likely
It also makes me
Nauseous
Curled-up-fetal-drained-of-all-energy-nauseous
Even-the-thought-of-food-makes-me-feel-awful-nauseous
And fatigued
And now my nails are falling off.
It started with a hairline crack in each thumbnail
Which became a second layer of nail
Starting half-way down and extending down to the nail edge
One by one, each finger developed double nail layers
Then the second layer started lifting.
On Thursday, the second nail on my right middle finger
Came right off
Exposing the skin
And hurting like hell
Band-aids are a marvelous modern
Convenient invention
I’m off the chemo drug again
Now I have to wait and see
If the nausea and fatigue go away.
In the meantime,
Keep meditating
Keep writing
Lay low
Be still
And breathe
This too shall pass.
Commencing around New Year’s Day
Where I had no symptoms
The nausea was gone
The fatigue was gone
I had energy back
And I was starting to feel more like myself
I was writing every day
Practising yoga
Meditating
Cooking
Reading
Enjoying my imposed convalescence
Then I started a new chemo drug
It targets the chromosomal mutation
Which makes a relapse more likely
It also makes me
Nauseous
Curled-up-fetal-drained-of-all-energy-nauseous
Even-the-thought-of-food-makes-me-feel-awful-nauseous
And fatigued
And now my nails are falling off.
It started with a hairline crack in each thumbnail
Which became a second layer of nail
Starting half-way down and extending down to the nail edge
One by one, each finger developed double nail layers
Then the second layer started lifting.
On Thursday, the second nail on my right middle finger
Came right off
Exposing the skin
And hurting like hell
Band-aids are a marvelous modern
Convenient invention
I’m off the chemo drug again
Now I have to wait and see
If the nausea and fatigue go away.
In the meantime,
Keep meditating
Keep writing
Lay low
Be still
And breathe
This too shall pass.
- Published on
In January
I read Jill Ker Conway
And volunteered in a charming second-hand book store,
Wolverine Farm
Specializing in local and sustainable fare.
I wrote pieces for their blog
And priced vintage books.
I started rehearsals for The Tempest
And learnt about scansion, meter, and metaphor.
I ran the streets of Fort Collins
And felt fit
In February
I researched my play
Went to my first stitch n’ bitch
Tried to stay warm in the polar vortex,
Cycled the length and breadth of Fort Collins
Going between babysitting, rehearsals, and the book store.
In March
I performed in my first Shakespeare
And fell in love with the good people of OpenStage Theatre
I saw the touring company of West Side Story
And marveled at the show’s ability to still reduce me to tears.
I started volunteering at Happy Heart Farm
And planted tiny shoots of leeks, potatoes, peas, and cabbages
With kind souls and happy spirits.
I made meditation videos and posted them online
In April
I read Joan Dye Gussow and stories of pioneer women
And transferred seedlings from the green house to the earth
The Tempest played on
I shared meditation with new friends
The farmer’s markets moved back outside
I started running with a new friend and despite her energy, felt exhausted
In May
We went camping in the Poudre Canyon
And walked around the stupa
We packed our little Fort Collins home into the car
And said goodbye to Colorado
We drove across country and stayed with friends in Cleveland, Chicago, Lynchburg, and Richmond
We said goodbye to Ruth
In June
We found a Brooklyn apartment to live in
I signed up with a temping agency and worked for the first time in NYC
We headed up to camp
We staged Avenue Q in 3.5 weeks
I felt continually exhausted and on the brink of breaking point
In July
I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia
And told I had a month to live.
July to December became cancer, cancer, cancer
And chemotherapy, radiation, and a bone marrow stem cell transplant
And being the sickest I’ve ever been
And feeling loved by friends and family all across the globe
And having access to the best medical treatment
And healing slowly
And becoming cancer free again
In August we moved to Brooklyn
Aaron collected the keys whilst I was still in hospital
In September
I turned thirty
And couldn’t believe the circumstances
The next day I started a second round of chemo
In October
I was re-admitted to hospital for the transplant
My sister and Mum flew in from Australia
My immune system was wiped out by radiation and chemotherapy
And replaced with stem cells formerly belonging to my sister,
Now in a novelty-sized syringe
In November
I healed slowly at home
Lay fetal on the couch feeling exhausted and broken
I read Lena Dunham and Neil Patrick Harris and Cary Elwes
And started learning Danish
In December
I remained fetal
And wished the new year would come
The new year when I would be healed
And this dream would all be behind us
And we could be in NYC
And live and work and play.
I read Jill Ker Conway
And volunteered in a charming second-hand book store,
Wolverine Farm
Specializing in local and sustainable fare.
I wrote pieces for their blog
And priced vintage books.
I started rehearsals for The Tempest
And learnt about scansion, meter, and metaphor.
I ran the streets of Fort Collins
And felt fit
In February
I researched my play
Went to my first stitch n’ bitch
Tried to stay warm in the polar vortex,
Cycled the length and breadth of Fort Collins
Going between babysitting, rehearsals, and the book store.
In March
I performed in my first Shakespeare
And fell in love with the good people of OpenStage Theatre
I saw the touring company of West Side Story
And marveled at the show’s ability to still reduce me to tears.
I started volunteering at Happy Heart Farm
And planted tiny shoots of leeks, potatoes, peas, and cabbages
With kind souls and happy spirits.
I made meditation videos and posted them online
In April
I read Joan Dye Gussow and stories of pioneer women
And transferred seedlings from the green house to the earth
The Tempest played on
I shared meditation with new friends
The farmer’s markets moved back outside
I started running with a new friend and despite her energy, felt exhausted
In May
We went camping in the Poudre Canyon
And walked around the stupa
We packed our little Fort Collins home into the car
And said goodbye to Colorado
We drove across country and stayed with friends in Cleveland, Chicago, Lynchburg, and Richmond
We said goodbye to Ruth
In June
We found a Brooklyn apartment to live in
I signed up with a temping agency and worked for the first time in NYC
We headed up to camp
We staged Avenue Q in 3.5 weeks
I felt continually exhausted and on the brink of breaking point
In July
I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia
And told I had a month to live.
July to December became cancer, cancer, cancer
And chemotherapy, radiation, and a bone marrow stem cell transplant
And being the sickest I’ve ever been
And feeling loved by friends and family all across the globe
And having access to the best medical treatment
And healing slowly
And becoming cancer free again
In August we moved to Brooklyn
Aaron collected the keys whilst I was still in hospital
In September
I turned thirty
And couldn’t believe the circumstances
The next day I started a second round of chemo
In October
I was re-admitted to hospital for the transplant
My sister and Mum flew in from Australia
My immune system was wiped out by radiation and chemotherapy
And replaced with stem cells formerly belonging to my sister,
Now in a novelty-sized syringe
In November
I healed slowly at home
Lay fetal on the couch feeling exhausted and broken
I read Lena Dunham and Neil Patrick Harris and Cary Elwes
And started learning Danish
In December
I remained fetal
And wished the new year would come
The new year when I would be healed
And this dream would all be behind us
And we could be in NYC
And live and work and play.
- Published on
With the new year upon us, and many people making resolutions for better, brighter 2015's, I thought I'd re-share my 30th birthday wishes in the hope you'll incorporate at least one into your new year.
Thank you for reading this year. It has been an adventure.
With love,
Lu xx
- Write to someone you have been thinking kindly about. Make it a person you have not spoken to in a long time. Do it without expectation of a response. Tell them you’ve been thinking of them and why.
- Buy a copy of The Big Issue, or equivalent street mag, from the next vendor you see.
- Pay attention to your breath for one minute. Don’t worry about whether you’re “doing it right” or breathing “properly”. Just pause and watch your breath go in and out for one minute. Repeat throughout the day as you remember this request.
- Read an actual book. Not on a device, an actual book. Smell the pages. Feel the pages between your fingers. Savor the delicious feeling of being-almost-at-the-end and not wanting it to be finished.
- That instrument you’ve always wanted to learn? Work out right now how you can get a hold of that instrument, and seek out lessons. The internet is an amazing place.
- Seek out your local farmer’s market. Buy something you’ve never seen/eaten before and learn what to do with it.
- If you are willing and able, donate blood and/or platelets. Google it right now to find out where you can do so in your city. If you can’t donate, consider sharing information on how to do so.
- If you are willing and able, sign up to be a donor on the bone marrow registry in your country. You could be a life-saving match for someone. Google it right now to find out where you can do so in your city.
- Be kind to yourself. No really. Stop being so hard on yourself. You are awesome and more loved and valued than you realize.
- Remember that you are alive. Remember your passions and what makes your spine tingle with delight, your heart race, and your soul feel happy. Allow yourself to feel sad when you’re down. It’s ok. This too shall pass. The good, the bad, the ugly. Just be here.
Thank you for reading this year. It has been an adventure.
With love,
Lu xx