Monthly Archives: June 2010

My battle scars

It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’ I do not agree. The wounds remain.
In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue
and the pain lessens, but it is never gone.

~ Rose F. Kennedy

Some people’s scars are very visible to the outside world, others’ are not. There are times when I wish my scars could be seen by others.

Some of my scars have faded with time, some will remain engraved deeply into my soul until I die, and some I keep hidden even from myself.

Sometimes I try to be more vulnerable and show people my scars, but more than not I then build the walls protecting my scars even higher. Walls of resistance that end up isolating me.

Sometimes I can physically feel the scars, physically feeling them crippling me. They can feel like a poisoned arrow lodged deep in my heart.

Perhaps I should think of my scars as battle scars and be proud of them, knowing without them I may not have had the strength to fight.

Be proud of your scars. They remind you that you have the will to live.
~ Paulo Coelho


Another baby dies at Homerton Hospital

Lucas Stachursky with his parents (

Seven-month-old Lucas Stachursky died after being given up to twelve times the correct amount of an anti-epileptic drug. Homerton Hospital management seem to be trying to pass responsibility for their massive overdose blaming ‘gaps in the system’ and warning it could happen in other hospitals. But that can’t excuse the fact that the senior registrar involved in the death of Lucas failed two prescribing tests he was forced to later do. And where is this registrar now?

Lucas tragically died in May 2009. The inquest at Poplar’s Coroner’s Court into his death was only a few days ago. I wonder if Lucas’ parents Anna Holzscheiter and Benjamin Stachursky had to fight to get their case heard; why should grieving parents have to wait a year for the law to do their job?

Read more on Hackey Hive…
Read the inquest verdict…

‘My morning sickness was so bad I had to have an abortion’

Reading this story in the Metro on my way to work this morning, it was difficult not to react judgementally. It’s impossible to put myself in her shoes when I would go through anything to have a baby. Putting up with even extreme morning sickness for the entire pregnancy would be worth it for me, without a doubt. The woman in the article does seem to have, maybe not regrets but, some sadness about her decision. What are your thoughts?

‘My morning sickness was so bad I had to have an abortion’

A mother has told how she suffered such extreme morning sickness that she chose to have an abortion. Cheryl Harrison made the heartbreaking decision after her condition left her unable to walk or care for her young daughter.
Read more…

Missing you

No words I write can ever say
How much I miss you every day.
As time goes by, the loneliness grows;
How I miss you, nobody knows!
I think of you in silence,
I often speak your name,
But all I have are memories
And photos in a frame.
No one knows my sorrow,
No one sees me weep,
But the love I have for you
Is in my heart to keep.
I’ve never stopped loving you–
I’m sure I never will;
Deep inside my heart,
You are with me still.
Heartaches in this world are many
But mine is worse than any.
My heart still aches as I whisper low,
“I need you and I miss you so.”
The things we feel so deeply
Are often the hardest to say,
But I just can’t keep quiet any more,
So I’ll tell you anyway.
There is a place in my heart
That no one else can fill;
I love you so, my precious son,
And I always will.

~ Author Unknown

What really matters in life?

An American businessman was standing at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked. Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish.

“How long did it take you to catch them?” the American asked.

“Only a little while,” the Mexican replied.

“Why don’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?” the American then asked.

“I have enough to support my family’s immediate needs,” the Mexican said.

“But,” the American then asked, “What do you do with the rest of your time?”

The Mexican fisherman said: “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take a siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, senor.”

The American scoffed, “I am a Harvard MBA and could help you. You should spend more time fishing and with the proceeds you could buy a bigger boat and, with the proceeds from the bigger boat, you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats.

Instead of selling your catch to a middleman, you would sell directly to the consumers, eventually opening your own can factory. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then LA and eventually NYC where you will run your expanding enterprise.”

The Mexican fisherman asked, “But senor, how long will this all take?”

To which the American replied, “15 to 20 years.”

“But what then, senor?”

The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time is right, you would announce an IPO (Initial Public Offering) and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions.”

“Millions, senor? Then what?”

The American said slowly, “Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take a siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos…”

Another day without

The stillness of the morning wakes me,
But I cannot see
Why there begins another day
When my son’s not here with me.
The house feels strangely silent
And his room, a lonely place.
I long to touch his soft brown hair
And kiss his dear, sweet face.
I’ll never get to hear him call,
“Come see what I just made!”
I’m left with only memories
Please God–don’t let them fade.
Deep in my heart, his spirit lives,
His laughter I still hear.
He’ll forever be my little boy,
Though I can’t hold him near.

~ Author Unknown

Not having it all

“It’s not easy. They make women believe that we can have children just like men do until a certain age. That’s not true. Sometimes when I see a woman that’s 35 years old and she thinks she has time? I’m surprised.It’s something that comes from the magazines, you know.” Carla Bruni (interview by Anna Botting, Sky News)

I copied down this quote quite a while ago because her words echoed my thoughts almost perfectly. And it made me wonder why we don’t hear more women saying this.

I was brought up believing that I could do anything I put my mind to, and my generation was probably the first who believed that as women we could do everything we wanted. We can have fabulous careers, we can be independent, we can have children and we can do all of these things together. The world is ours.

But as I got older I started to question this. I recently started asking some of my female friends to see if it was just me, but it’s not. We’ve realised we can’t have it all.

Roberto pointed out a few weeks ago how many people we know of who’ve had difficulty in getting pregnant, in order to say that having a baby isn’t always that easy for couples in general. But I had to draw his attention to the fact that all of these women are in their late thirties or older. The longer we wait, the harder it is and that’s just nature unfortunately.

It’s easy to say to a woman not to wait too long if she wants children, but it’s also too easy for us to believe that we can keep age at bay (we’re surrounded by advertising that reinforces this) and fit everything we want to achieve into our lives when we want to. But life doesn’t always give us what we want or what we believe we’re entitled to.