Storied Selves

My Story typed words on a vintage typewr I have always loved reading and writing and if you had met me as a child, I would have been scribbling in a notebook, typing stories on my typewriter or creating mini-books. ​ As a doctor, who specialised in the care of working age adults with complex disabilities (Rehabilitation Medicine), I am no stranger to illness, loss and grief, both as a witness to the experiences of others, but from my own personal experiences too. ​ Six weeks before my Medical School final exams, my younger brother died as a result of advanced colon cancer he had been bravely dealing with since the age of 19. It was a truly bewildering time for us as a family, but many important decisions needed to be made, like, "do I or don't I sit Finals exams?" after five enjoyable but arduous years at medical school. Three months later, I entered into the whirlwind of life as a trainee doctor, which gave me little time to think and process my brother’s death. ​ It was a year or so later, when Grief took charge, and like a well-meaning but firm,wise advisor, signalled to me that I really did have to stop, and process things.