There’s never been a more exciting time….

Theres never been a more exciting time shutterstock_216032050…to be an Australian or an ex-cancer patient as it happens. A dear friend referred to the ending of my last post – The Definition of Insanity – as a ‘cliffhanger’ beseeching me to hurry up and write about the historic meeting between my Oncologist and my Naturopath. While we Australians are currently enduring the longest federal election campaign in history, I’ve taken the liberty of borrowing one of the only coinable phrases to come out of the mouth of our current PM, Malcolm Turnbull, and adapted it shamelessly to my current circumstances. (No sirree – ‘Jobs and Growth’ didn’t make the cut.)

Continue Reading

What do we want?

poinsettiaAnyone who grew up in Queensland during the Bjelke-Petersen era will instinctively answer that question with ‘the right to march’, followed quickly by, ‘When do we want it? Now!’  As worthy a want as it is, I’m sorry to say ‘the right to march’ hasn’t ever made my top ten. Recently, however, I did get something I want very badly (but thought I would never get) and I am currently basking in a post-want fruition glow.

Continue Reading

Vegetarian Vampires – the book!

VV-FRONT-COVERMy life was very different eight years ago, long before the Big Breast Adventure. I was working 10 to 12 hour days in-house with a huge, complex and demanding client who shall remain nameless (OK, it was Qantas). My mother-in-law had just passed away very suddenly sending shock waves through the family, my daughter was progressing through those challenging pubescent high school years and my son was struggling with an as yet unidentified learning difficulty. To say life was busy and stressed would be the understatement of the millennium.

Continue Reading

Fifth Business

Fifth Business_snowballMore years ago now than I care to count I was a 17 year old Rotary Exchange student to Brampton, Ontario, Canada. I flew from a 30 plus degrees Celsius summer in Brisbane to -4 degrees with wind chill at Toronto airport. I went from a pigtailed, uniform-wearing, private school girl to the new kid at a North American high school in the middle of their year, straddling grades 12 and 13 as it then existed in Ontario. Culture shock doesn’t quite cover it. It was more like being sucked through a vortex into another dimension, a strange parallel universe where there was a lot of cold white stuff on the ground and I could see people’s lips moving but had no idea what they were talking about. Continue Reading