For the past near decade, my health, and my life, have been in the hands of the Royal Brompton Hospital. Or more specifically, the wonderful doctors and specialist nurses, that make up their Pulmonary Hypertension team. Over the years, these knowledgeable and caring folk have been by my side, keeping me alive, and guiding me … More Meeting A New PH Team
The champagne was poured, the buffet mostly devoured, ‘Articulate’ pushed to the side. As the London fireworks whirled and whizzed and burst and boomed on our tv screen, we stopped singing Auld Lang Syne and joined together in one long Conga. Turning my oxygen machine up to maximum, I joined the line, as it snaked … More Making It To Midnight
Today I had sausage rolls and chocolate orange for breakfast. It’s that wonderful time between Christmas and New Year, when the real world is shut out, and I hunker down in my own festive bubble. The date is forgotten, time slows down, and for once, I live in the now. Eating when I want, sleeping … More The Advent Countdown
It was November 2006, and I was twenty-five. For the past few years, I’d been getting increasingly breathless whenever I exercised. Repeated doctor visits kept assuring me I was just unfit. I went to the gym, hiked, played badminton- I was even the Physical Education leader at my school. But, I trusted my GP. So … More When No Breath Comes
I met my husband at York university. Phil was a Mathematics undergraduate; I was studying Psychology. He loved real ale in ye olde pubs; my nights out involved Taboo & lemonade, and dancing to ‘Steps’ in York’s clubs. He was quiet and shy; whilst I would always spot friends to chat to as I walked … More Twenty Years Later
It was just before seven. The morning after my birthday. Cosy and warm, I lay in bed for a while with my eyes closed. Until Kepler heard a noise, and jumped out of bed to investigate. It was a dog walker, out on the trails. As I opened my eyes to exchange hellos, I realised … More A Birthday Under The Stars
When I was little, my siblings and I invented a torturous game called ‘Feet’. The rules were simple: wait for an unsuspecting kin to start innocently walking the stairs; then scream “feet!” and take chase to grab their scurrying tootsies, before they reached the safety of the landing. For three siblings who hated having their … More The Stair Lift
Two months before we moved, I ordered carpets for our new house. Panicked after discovering that my favoured joiner had a nine month waiting list for his services; I advanced booked in the trades I would need in those first few weeks. Electrician, plumber, carpets. Planning from afar, for a house I’d only seen once, … More The First Deadline
On the day we moved, a kind friend gave me a present to be unwrapped only when I’d arrived in our new home. As I opened it on that first evening, surrounded by boxes and dirt and dreams; I felt a little teary. For it was a sign saying “She believed she could, so she … More Little Miss Independent
There’s a winding country road that approaches our lovely new town from the south. It snakes upwards for a mile or so, from the next nearest village. Stone walls line the lane, there are glimpses of a quarry in the distance, and craggy edges and green hilltops surround on all sides. It’s beautiful. Classic dark … More The Project House
We Can Adjust The Sails 