I walk to the pool with bare feet on the stone path. I lounge in the shallow end in brightly coloured togs and cheap sunglasses, reading a book about the state of medical care in challenged communities in the Horowhenua. Continue reading swimswim
We would file into changing rooms with pale-blue walls and wooden benches. Backpacks and sports bags hung from hooks while we shimmied underwear out from under/tartan skirts and hiked up navy blue togs. Blouse off, straps up, bra eased out from underneath. Ribbons removed from ponytails, hair bundled up and crammed under swimming caps in regulation house designs. Continue reading swim
inch-long lines nearly faded now
/ wounds inflicted by spiral binding
/ at the start of semesters gone by
/ bookselling is a contact profession Continue reading A catalogue of my body’s scars (to date)
I went back under shortly after the nurse spoke to me. There are no more memories of the post-surgical ward, where they watch you so carefully to make sure your body remembers how to breathe and pump blood and fire neurons and all the things that it might not be so crash hot at after however many hours of general anaesthetic. Eventually the machines attached to me and the observations taken by nurses came to an agreement. I was deemed fit to return to the land of the living. Continue reading Endurance
I broke my ankle. In three places. And dislocated it. And tonight is my tenth night in a row in Auckland Hospital. I arrived in an ambulance on a Wednesday. I was meant to be flying to Honiara on the first Friday. I’d be back by now if I’d gone. I was meant to be hosting a clothing swap today. And I’m meant to be flying to Wellington on Wednesday. I had an operation the day before yesterday. I lay face-down on the table for as long as it took, but I don’t remember that part. They repositioned me while … Continue reading so i broke my ankle…
Exciting developments in writing life, one of which is a long time coming in a couple of ways. In the more general, longer term way, I FINALLY have a creative piece in a print literary journal. Hurrah! In the specific, shorter term way, I submitted this piece over a year ago, and it was allocated to the second issue of the journal. But now, it’s out! Issue 2 of Atlas Literary Journal is out, and my piece, ‘Trading Pain’ is in it. It’s about hospital and scary things like emergency surgery and ketamine and nasogastric tubes. I believe it’s being … Continue reading new work – atlas/pantograph punch
Last weekend I spent a day (and a skerrick of the evening before) roaming Auckland Writers Festival and reviewing sessions for Booksellers NZ. Because you can take the bookseller out of the bookshop etc etc… You can find the six reviews I wrote here – alongside some from other reviewers. Continue reading AWF17
Witch Baby Briar. Continue reading bad jelly
Just because you have objective truths fuelling your fatigue doesn’t make it any easier to accept. I am in remission, in essence. But that doesn’t mean that I’m healthy. It means that my CRP levels are acceptable. My ferritin isn’t too bad. I don’t have urgency that inhibits my movements day-to-day. I go to the bathroom more than average but that’s partly because I have less intestine than average. Four or five trips a day is fine for me. There’s no blood, no mucous, infrequent cramps, relatively infrequent full-blown diarrhoea. But my bones ache. Arthritis can be a secondary … Continue reading Fatigue
I was going through my old Tumblr to find my go-to chocolate cake recipe, and stumbled upon this… my first ever IBD-related blog post, I suspect. 25 May 2011. I thought I’d post it here for posterity. Those were the days… incredible pain on the daily, uncontrollable urgency, no painkillers, incapable of properly attending lectures. But also, relatively simple meds with less impact on my total system. No surgery, no steroids, no biologics. Not even my full-blown diagnosis yet. Anyway, without further ado, here’s 20-year-old Briar’s words about IBD: Last December, after various fun filled tests, I was diagnosed … Continue reading The first time
