The Fifteen Minute Failure
At a time when the world is bowing under the weight of a pandemic, there is one part of frontline service that remains dangerously unchanged: the 15 minute GP appointment. Continue Reading →
Author Archives: writehanded
Weddings are a nightmare. So why am I doing it?
Weddings are my feminist, capitalist, hates-events-and-especially-hates-planning-them Nightmare. So… why *am* I doing it?
“Just give up”
I promised myself I wouldn’t write this, for numerous reasons. My health – both physical and mental, is the primary one. In fact, I’m writing in pain and at sloth Continue Reading →
Labour’s letdown of beneficiaries is eugenics
Let’s just call this what it is. You cannot campaign on a platform of relieving child poverty, improving the lives of all New Zealanders, commission an investigation into the welfare Continue Reading →
Resilience is not a moral qualifier
There is no requirement to demonstrate ‘moral fortitude’ by smiling through self-destruction. Continue Reading →
What does ‘immunocompromised’ mean – especially in a pandemic?
“Immunocompromised” is a fancy way of saying that, for a variety of possible reasons, a person’s immune system doesn’t function as the gatekeeper of the body like it should. Basically, Continue Reading →
Yes or No? Let’s talk cannabis control.
The election delay means there’s the chance for more education around both referendums. The pandemic has understandably sapped public attention – but the outcome of these votes also define our Continue Reading →
Living at work
I’m no stranger to working from home. That was the only option for me for a long time – and it can do serious damage. We should not romanticise it.
Bennett is gone – but what would it have been like if she’d never been?
As the National Party implodes and MPs are dropping like flies, I’m celebrating one retirement in particular. Paula Bennett. Her announcement fell at the same time the Greens releasing their Continue Reading →
Head Injury Part 2: The Door in The Night
Right. Where were we? Ah yes. March. Four months after I smashed my head on a shelf and thus began my self-imposed prison. As much as I joke about blaming Continue Reading →