a mobile generation

A mobile world,

a mobile phone

a mobile life we seek to lead-

moving, travelling, chasing some need

As Generation Y

we find ourselves

hunting for a home,

searching the New Territory; an internet drone.

Instagram, snapchat, facebook, tweet

“This food looks great…

Let’s take a pic before we eat”


Some break off, “Slow down” they warn

Getting smaller and smaller

as the connections get shorn-

But how to return to a less mobile life

Perhaps more steady,

perhaps with less strife?

How to be less available

to a world demanding more-

More time, money, thought consumption

it outsources many a chore

whilst trading in for new ones as we

tap, chat, send and reply

To an message we’re late for

that’s only just come by.

Mobility is wonderful,

it is freeing indeed

but just ensure we’re not the ones

trapped in with created need.



The Year Long Patient

Will held my hand with his own;

I could feel the calloused skin which turned dirt for years-

Growing a living out of the earth

Finding water where there was no rain,

Making shelter where there was all sun.

He turned my ear with his sighs;

I remember him stumbling over the phone buttons

As he asked me to call his wife

To tell her the truth of his health,

That he’d likely not make it home with his life.

He caught my gaze with his eyes;

Eyes that had been taped shut through

Procedure after procedure after procedure –

Eyes that had blinked through

Seven hundred and thirty tea times on the ward,

Eyes that had seen through

Over a thousand changes of nursing shifts.

Will shared his own hopes;

Telling us that he was still there –

Trying to fight as hard as he could,

That we should leave no avenue unexplored,

No options unconsidered – a battler til the last

He held on that day – when all hope was crumbling away

As his family kept vigil by his side

Two days later he did know it was his time to go

And he left us with an ache in our heart.

Fool’s Gold

She was standing before a crowd of faces
which had Once seemed to smile
but the closer she came
she came to realise that their eyes were vacant-
their heart and soul had taken leave.
That of all the people who had responded to her
call to “Come on board!” her one prized ship
to seek a Great Adventure,
there were only a few faithful to form a crew she might
truly rely on.
She grimaced but shrugged-
for Fool’s Gold has little Worth.

Run down by the black dog

The black dog came and brought her down
It tore down all the wall
She still looked bright up til the day
We didn’t see her fall
But just because it wasn’t seen
It didn’t stop the happening,
the black dog ran and ran its race
so Hope would seem unraveling.
Oh what we’d do or what we’d say
If only we had it another way…
We’d put the dog down if we could
But that’s not how it can go
Maybe if we’d all stop to sit
The face of it would show.
We couldn’t catch her as she slipped
between our ignorance and her pain-
But maybe we might bring hope to life
by learning how to love one another over and over again.



In tribute of a young doctor who committed suicide in the last week.

The bell tolls

The bell tolls

to tell the time-

the time that tells

of trials and trophies

waxing and waning

like the moon in each cycle.

She alone watches

every sigh in the night

but can ne’er push forward or back

the times.



Because I knew you

Our perspective shifts as we come to know people. Memories colour what we see all around us. As we grow, our memories become entwined – layering one upon  another – a bittersweet symphony filled with the absences and presence of all that has passed. Because of the places we went and the things we said…because of the way you made me feel…because I knew you – the world is a different place.

Moments of grief and beauty

In healthcare, I often quote, that we are privileged to see people at their best and worst of humanity.
We often spend a lot of time and energy expended on patients, but although they, and their medical conditions are very important; sometimes it is really their family and friends who impress upon me the most.

It is painful to see a loved one hurt, especially when there is nothing that you can do that will fix it. Especially when they feel that you are a cause of their pain and distress; that though things might hurt them, you are helping them for the best.

I see it in the father pinning his child down during yet another blood test. A blood test which we have to inform him, reveals no significant findings as to why his beloved little boy is walking ataxic, and less responsive than usual. There will be more tests to come. But he will still be rocking his baby, singing in his ear, whilst the tears run down their eyes.

I see it in the husband, standing patiently by his wife, refusing to remove her from hospital, holding the tissues out for her, just as he holds out his heart. His lips are pressed shut in an effort to stem all the words he wishes he could say; if only she might be able to truly listen. He watches her; curled in her fetal position, admitting to willing her life away. There is hurt when she tells him over honey carrots and pasta; “Wouldn’t your life be better without me?”. We only need see his face; to know; that he could not dream of a life without her; because she is in all his dreams. And the vow echoes through his veins; for better or worse; in sickness and in health; to cherish and love.

These moments of great grief, are beautiful in their own way; that though battered and worn, bruised and burned and tired; the heart still stands, beating out it’s call; that we can be there for those we love; even when it hurts. And that’s why, although medicine can be painfully sad; it is also one of the most beautiful things I have ever known.

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