Joe Duffy

Poetic licence evoked!

So on Monday - Anne Marie Hourhane wrote an article in the Irish Times "A medical conspiracy against patients", she went on Joe Duffy. I wrote a letter to the IT editor in support of the article. I then rang Liveline and was waiting to go on air. Deflated by three I cursed Joe!

On Tuesday, Joe takes up the mantle once more, I ring in again, Yes your definitely going on, 3 came and went- I was even more deflated. I should have lost some weight at this stage.

On Weds, my chairman rings and says you are definitely going on today they just rang me, now on Weds Thurs and Friday I am working in my other job, so I start to feel itchy and scratchy, red blotches appear on my face and neck, I listen into Joe really quitely, wanting the phone to ring but praying it doesn't  By 3 I am exhausted, I curse Joe and Liveline and resolve to hunt him down in Clontarf - I know where he lives!

By Thursday, I decide I am not even listening to Joe, I will read the IT, I open up the letters page and there I am as bold as brass in black and white - I ring everyone I know proud as punch. So happy I have forgotten Joe, who needs him anyway!

I have just take a bite of my cardboard sandwich in a very late lunch when the mobile goes, I half recognise the number and decide to answer it, I choke on the cardboard as the voice at the other end says "Joe is ready for you now", I panic, where will I go, I can hear Joe in conversation with two women, I decide to leave the office and head in the direction of the bathroom, spying the stairwell I head there, my phone starts beeping, someone else is trying to call me, then it whistles as the message jumps in, at this stage I am red, flushed like a tomato hiding under the stairs. I see the girl who thinks she is my boss, she is on the look out for me, I stay hidden under the stairwell but then I hear whistling and the lights go out, the bloomin porter is doing a fire check, god almighty is nowhere safe to speak to Joe. The he calls me in on the show, I feel like a rabbit caught in the headlights, Yes Joe, No Joe, three bags full Joe, I can't hear myself think, I love Joe now, he is so nice to me, now I am happy to listen I forget I am supposed to talk,  then its all over. Breathe  big tomato or someone is going to be picking you up. I run back to the office where my self appointed supervisor jumps through the door, shouting you were on Joe Duffy, I look at her and say "was I really, God I didn't know", I laugh to break the awkwardness and ask is this a firing offence, she smiles and says not quite, God what do you have to do around here to get noticed I think.

Finding my inner voice

So here I am the morning of the compassion conference in Cashel and I hear my colleague say we need someone to step up, a small voice from somewhere within me speaks up and to my own astonishment I volunteer. The speaker was to talk about compassion from a personal perspective that left with little room to manoeuvre, again to my internal surprise I found myself saying I would talk about my depression and the impact it has had on my life. If I even tried to explain why I felt this was a good idea I could not, for years I have kept this part of my life confined to those I love and trust, it is only in the last few months that I have voiced it in small circles beyond this, and yet here I was going to stand in front of over 100 people and tell them my life history. I had very little time to think about it all so maybe that was why the spur of the moment decision was not making me ill, in fact in honesty I felt little prior to my name being called.

When I stood at the podium the fear gripped me. For a moment I felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights I could not see the people, the room seemed like a blur and I thought I was somewhere else. I tried to think fast I had nothing prepared, how do you begin your life story? Where do you start? What’s the first thing you say? All this flashed through my head and to be honest I don’t remember what I said to start, I remember flashes but not everything. My eyes scanned the audience to try to gauge if I was boring them, rambling or if they thought I was just plain mad. My eyes fell upon several of my friends who strengthened my resolve particularly when I could hear the cry in my own voice and I begged myself not to destroy me in front of all these people. The love and encouragement I received from the audience and my friends fuelled me to continue, I only dealt with the beginning of my depression diagnosis and the way that compassion was shown to me over the years. The kindness of a nurse in my local GP who recognised my pain and took me in. The cups of tea shared with my friends, breakfast at Dunnes, Sunday dinner provided courtesy of my friend every second Sunday who made sure my children were fed. I will never forget their kindness nor will its importance ever diminish in my eyes, they saved me from myself and they continue to do so as each day presents new struggles. The early years were hard and these years are just different and different people are caring for me and that’s for another day.