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Blogging, Guest Post, Health, Health Activist Writer's Challenge 2013, Northern Ireland, Social Media, television, Themes of Childhood, Themes of childhood, Type 1 Diabetes, Writing
swap shop in the blogosphere
In the mid-1970s, I was a bored teenager, convinced there was nothing to do on a Saturday morning in Antrim. But if the recent activity on the Olde Antrim Photos Facebook page is anything to go by, we had the kind of extended childhood we hope for our own children. If the weather was fine, we played rounders and football,…
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Birthdays, Blogging, Consignment Store Shopping, Diary, DREAM Act, Fashion, Fiftieth Birthday, Hair, Health Activist Writer's Challenge 2013, Memoir, Mother Daughter Relationship, Northern Ireland, Poetry, Social Media, Teaching, The Troubles, The Troubles, Themes of Childhood, Writing
hindsight & happy birthday
For the 12th day of the Health Activist Writer’s Challenge, I’m supposed to take a trip back in time to the person I was on the day of my cancer diagnosis. What would I say to her? Cancer. When I heard it got me, I wept as though I had just found out someone dear to me had died. Inconsolable initially,…
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Blogging, Breast Cancer Treatment, Culture of breast cancer, Facebook, Health Activist Writer's Challenge 2013, Health Statistics, Language of Cancer, Memoir, Pink Ribbons, Social Media, television, Themes of childhood, Twitter, Van Morrison
on television, Twitter, & the truth
This instrument can teach, it can illuminate; yes, and it can even inspire. But it can do so only to the extent that humans are determined to use it to those ends. Otherwise it is merely wires and lights in a box. There is a great and perhaps decisive battle to be fought against ignorance, intolerance and indifference. This weapon…
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Awesome Women, Blogging, Breast Cancer Treatment, Health Activist Writer's Challenge 2013, Language matters, Memory, Ordinary Things, Social Media
No rest for cancer. Rest in peace, Pat Steer.
I am a creature of habit. I count on routines and rituals to know that all is well in the world. Like breakfast – always the same – poached egg, toast, berries of some sort, an orange. Coffee from my favorite cup. Whenever I wave goodbye to my husband, three things always happen: he’ll blow a kiss, flash a peace…