The woman at the workshop

I am at a thing. Not a famous thing, but an important one nevertheless. People are there, people you and … More

Poetry and illness

Medicine The black hair of my Chinese doctor gleams like combed ink as he leans over his desk, with quick … More

A year ago I had a relapse of my cancer. Except I didn’t. For a week or so I knew … More

The other day I was asked what I look for in poetry. Needing to give a quick answer I said: I … More

This is Jörn Cann. He was my ward doctor at the haematology unit where I was treated for non-Hodgkin’s … More

My friend and colleague Anna Craft has died. She was famous -if that is the right word- as a researcher … More

Seven years ago I published The Year of Drinking Water, a pamphlet of poems, about my experience of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma (Exeter … More

A scan, with different initials. The train journey to it, biting nails; the one back pretending not to be radioactive. … More

The ward is a void without him. Football blares in the corner, the monotonous roar of the crowd unleavened by … More

The way it starts. With an ending. Just before our love got lost. We have all been here: the wit … More

The room is small, the size of a student bedsit. An enormous grey sofa takes up most of the space. … More

I am completely torn apart -Rupert Loydell When I first read Raymond Carver’s Fires I loved and understood all of it, … More

Don’t forget, this is inside us every day -Stephen Berg This is not happening. It happened. Past tense. One … More

Then this. We are sitting with hospital mugs of tea, in the Quiet Room. We are all leaning forward, listening … More

My main memory of watching The West Wing is the way Martin Sheen would wrap up discussions with his staff by … More

This is the day we go the hospital as usual. We have banter with Jörn and Nadine while they inject … More

Dear Anthony Two cycles down, just six more to go. You are not looking bad, considering. The belligerent doctor who … More

Dear Ant So you’ve had your first chemotherapy treatment. That first night, when you came home and carried the sick … More