Words are often a poor substitute for imagery.
One of my Doctors: “So Sarah, why do you want to work in healthcare – even though you’re an artist?”
I spoke about my own experiences & the opportunity artistic practice can offer to enhance care and services – the ability to use a different perspective to make a difference.
He turned to me expressed his heartfelt regrets and said: “Art gives you, like flying, something that other people don’t have.”
It was as if he was saying, what you lack in a functional immune system, you make up for in other unique ways.
And with this, a few days ago I found out that I passed my radiotherapy & oncology BSc Hons degree with a 92.6% First-class degree!!!
I have a fully-funded PhD scholarship offer bringing together 2 of my passions together (art & healthcare) that starts in October, and I leave for the U.S.A in 5 days times for a good couple of months. I genuinely can-not-believe it!!
Not too shabby for the working class kid with no science background or previous healthcare working experience.
I am humbled, and most of all feeling extremely privileged to have shared this crazy journey with you all. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it to this day, in all kinds of ways, and for this reason this achievement feels incredibly important and special.
For a long time, I had made who I was by being a work-horse. I could totally juggle 8 things at once. I could totally stay up til 3am in the morning working on hopeful-kick-ass projects/ideas/gigs – and then get up at like 9/10am the next day — no questions about it. My mind constantly buzzed with all the cool things we could do. I’d sleep with a notebook and jot down cool ideas in the middle of the night. If you needed something doing – I was the person! But Nothing prepares you for the day when you can’t do what you do any more.
I didn’t feel like myself. I felt broken. I loathed who I had become.
There I was, hopeless – barely there. Not feeling alive.
I cried. I felt sorry for myself. I didn’t believe it was happening to me.
I’ve spent the last couple of years searching for the Old (younger) Smizz. I’ve looked for her all over —But there’s no going back to my old life.
I am broken. There’s no protocols or discharge instructions to guide people back to their lives.
But I am alive.
I do think about that a lot.
This degree course allowed me to gain some control, it gave me some much needed (if not too much) structure and helped me to try & hopefully make a difference. After all, what is the point of saving a life if the life isn’t a meaningful one?
And the friends I’ve met whilst doing it – all with their own personal stories – have helped to inspire, and alongside all my other friends, they’ve helped me to carve this new path for myself.
It highlights the fact that I’ve never actually accomplished a single meaningful thing by myself, and this is included.
The past few years has taught me that reading the fine print of your mortality is a great sifter of rubbish.
In the chase for the extraordinary we can sometimes forget to embrace the ordinary moments. It’s about embracing our vulnerabilities and learning to ask for help. We also need to invest in others without expecting returns – because that’s real love.
And it’s about realizing that your time is valuable — what you do with it, how you spend it and with whom.
It’s picking yourself up when life knocks you down and finding beauty in your bruises. But this might take years and years to do, it’s not an overnight fix. We are all damaged & broken & traumatized & mistake making in some way or another. But it doesn’t define who we are. So don’t be so hard on yourself. And Don’t be so hard on others.
3 years ago, I literally couldn’t get out of bed. Today marks a HUGE milestone for me. I got out of bed each placement morning (1000’s of hours of free labour) (i wasn’t happy about it lol), I ground myself down, I gritted my teeth and pushed through most of the fatigue & pain, and some how completed 3 years clinical education. Super early mornings, physical lifting, lots of moving, emotional distress, stress, deadline after deadline, many naps where ever I could find them, doritos and a 2 year long headache. And somehow I got here.
Whilst I still live in deep pain, and still haven’t learnt my fatigue limits, and I’ve lost feeling all on my left side, and a headache that often leaves me crippled to the floor. I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Recovery is hard. I don’t think we give enough people credit for that part.
I Never, genuinely – hand on heart – would have believed any of this would have been possible.
So thank you to YOU ALL. My mom, my bro, my nan, my amazing friends – old & new, stafff, lecturers, my twitter fam, my internet friends. Anyone and everyone.
Without your advise, support, jokes, cleaning, food, tears, stories, knowledge and just being there and accepting I take 7-10 business days to return a text/email – I’m not so sure this would be the blog update it is today.
I plan on using all of my time allocated.
And I can’t believe I’m here.