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Posts Tagged ‘death’

Kaaren at RWA conference in Sydney 2023

Kaaren’s website here.

When I first met Kaaren in the early 2000s she was vibrant, focussed and enthusiastic. And she never ceased being so, even when she knew her days were numbered. She was determined to live every day to the full, feeling as well as she could for as long as she could.

After meeting Kaaren at an editing workshop where she as a presenter, we got talking about auditing and said come and work at the Australian National Audit Ofice. I did apply and got in and we worked together on audit projects. Partners! She approached her work in a focussed and organised way and she had a really ordered way of looking at things. She made audits fun, even though she was very competitive. You’ll never be as old as me, she said once. I replied, “Not much I can do about that.” She was also a writer and a horsewoman at that time, as well as a runner and cyclist. She was as focussed about those things as she was everything else. Her earlier books featured flying horses. She was quirky I suppose, she would tell me about the conversations she had with her characters. Her Kered’s Cry series was about recovery from trauma and it was researched and planned.

We were working together when she got her first breast cancer diagnosis. I cried. She told me to stop it. That was Kaaren. Tackling breast cancer was a huge challenge, one which Kaaren attacked like everything else. The only casualty was writing. Her publisher turned out to be dodgy and the stress became too much. I published the last book in her trilogy when I had my publishing imprint. I remember talking to her after her mastectomy and she had been outside in the cul de sac (she lived rural) trying to get her fitness back up. She went into remission and made the five year and the ten year mark. She worked as a contract editor at the Australian National Audit Office and worked back at Immigration, her other home. She moved to the coast and then moved again, once she found a tumour on her spine. She wanted to lessen the chores so her husband didn’t have to worry. Always planning ahead, always organising. She gave her her horses, her mini ponies but kept her cats. There are many more adventures of Kaaren, coming off horses and so on…

From memory, she’d started writing again when there was a lump on her neck. Dragon Boating and kayaking had become her new athletic thing as well. Up in Canberra, she had a very gruelling 7 hour operation to remove the tumour on her vertebrae just below her neck. I remember her telling me that it could affect her eyesight as she had to be on her face the whole time. They put a little cage in there to replace the vertebrae. I visited her in hospital afterwards and the worst thing was a sore neck. She’d hurt her neck a few years before getting thrown off her horse and nearly lost the use of her arms. At this time I didn’t know it was a recurence of the breast cancer. Maybe Kaaren suspected. When they sequenced it, they found it matched her breast cancer. She was officially terminal. She refused chemo at first but had some radiation. The doctor talked her into a drug that slowed bone metabilising. She was fit and well for maybe a year, nothing to see on the scans. She wrote the first book in her trilogy, Undercover Mage, featuring Everand from her first series. She started on the second. I remember her telling me. The doctors want me to to X and I can’t because I need to be well enough to launch this book and write the next one. She donated money from the sale of the books to breast cancer charity. She finished the trilogy, did in person launches for all the books and wrote a romance novel, which she finished just a couple of weeks before she died. When others would curl up and die, Kaaren refused to.

In the photo above she was at the RWA conference in Sydney in 2023. She had started entering competitions for anthologies and placing. It really lit up her world to get the validation and the encouragement. This year she placed second in the spicy bites.

Her funeral was beautiful and everything so many people said was true. She was many things and it is really hard to think of her gone. I’m crying now, because i’m writing about it. But after the funeral I had to think of her somewhere else, not gone as that was the only way I can cope. She had a positive influence on me always. She had me riding horses and writing and laughing. One of the things I learned about Kaaren’s life from her brother was that she had a really good childhood. I think that’s why she could walk around with a little dragon on her shoulder and wear it with pride. She had a solid beginning.

Kaaren leaves behind her husband, two daughters, son-in-law and a grandson. I remember one of her goals was to live to him born and she made it to his first birthday. She touched many lives and so many people. I can never be as brave as she was, as forward thinking and as caring of others, particularly her family. If she knew I was crying now, she’d say. Stop! Stop that.

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The downside of celebrity is that it is so one sided. These personalities are beamed into our lives so much so they become a part of it. There is  a realness there, but it is not real, not really, just to the subjective experiencer. I first noticed it when Princess Diana died. I cried so much. I was glued to the TV, for the updates. I was swamped with disbelief. She was a princess. She shouldn’t or couldn’t die. We were near the same age, our children were born close in time, she set the fashion I wanted to emulate, she was on magazine covers everywhere. Then there was little internet. I had no computer at home. There was definitely no social media. No direct interaction.

Now in 2016 we have lost a lot of celebrities, some quite unexpectedly. Then Carrie Fisher had a heart attack and my world just kind of folded. I was expecting either news that she was going to have surgery or that she had died. They seemed the only two options. As the silence continued death seemed to be inevitable. When the news came I cried. I cried a lot. I was weepy and sad the whole day. Matthew took me to brunch and we sort of sat there both feeling sad for the same reason we had lost Carrie Fisher. We didn’t really talk about it. Blubbering in public is so not my thing. This is the price we pay for having celebrities in our lives.

Carrie Fisher championed a lot of things, now in dying she raised the awareness of cardiac arrest in women post-menopause. Women have the same risk as men once those lovely hormones leak out of system. It’s like two wrong sides of a coin. Loss of youth, beauty, hormones verses the sweating, the insomnia, the weight gain, sometimes depression and increased risk of death from cardiac arrest.

Carrie Fisher was on social media. She wrote books that revealed intimate details of her life, at least details that allowed us to share and to bond. This means she was even closer that Princess Diana ever was to me.

In 2013 I wrote this post after seeing Carrie Fisher at Supanova in Sydney, Star Wars A Force Awakens wasn’t out yet. Here

So basically I was into it.

Mental illness is strong in my family…

When I read Shockaholic I totally got where Carrie Fisher was coming from. She took those shock treatments because she wanted to keep her life together, to keep her daughter in her life. Bipolar (and most of the severe mental illnesses) can be so isolating. You churn through friends and family because they can’t take it, can’t take the crazy shit and what makes it tough is that the sufferer needs love and support to get through.

I don’t have a mental illness myself but I’ve lived with it. I did however get severe post natal depression at age 19 and had a psychotic break. It took me years to get back to where I was. Sometimes I experience anxiety. I’m not perfect. Not with my genes. Right now at age 56 I wonder about myself. I watched an Oprah Show replay of Carrie Fisher and Debbie Renoylds. Carrie Fisher liked the manic stage of the illness. I get manic now and then. I get that. You achieve so much when you focus, when the energy is pouring out of you. My eldest daughter says I’m ADHD and I do score highly in the online questionnaires. It’s probably too late for me to take pills. I’m me. I can live with me. My friends know. They speak Donna. My daughter had been on at me about this for a couple of years but it wasn’t until I started the PhD that  noticed things about myself. The obsessive working, the manic mind, the shifting from one thing to another as I couldn’t concentrate, my brain going off in a different direction especially when I’m in a group of people talking. I upset people when I go off topic when they are discussing something important to them. I interrupt people to blurt out what’s flashed into my mind. Waves a hand. Too bad. I can cope with a label.

I got off luckly. I never did drugs. In my family drugs are a trigger for schizophrenia, bipolar and schizo affective and probably depressive illnesses. Compared to my siblings I’m the lucky one. With Carrie’s history it’s hard to tell whether the drug using in her youth was a symptom or a trigger or both. Lesson is if you have the genes for mental illness even dope smoking can fuck with your brain chemistry and bring on a permanent mental illness. That is why I do tea. Tea all day long. Occasionally alcohol but too much of that stuffs your brain too and you only get one brain. So Carrie Fisher’s death affected me.

Then the next day Debbie Reynolds passes and I’m like Fuck me! No! It’s a fucking tragedy. You couldn’t write shit like this.

I feel for her daughter and her brother who have to live with two holes in their lives. I’m nothing in this. I’m the symptom of the modern age, the age of celebrity and social media and fake intimacy. I feel for her friends and colleagues who really knew her. I feel for her fans like me are left with this sense of loss that is real and unreal both. I honour the fight that Carrie Fisher fought for her life, to conquer her demons, her unhappiness to find herself. I honour that she stood up for mental illness and addictions and that she shared her experiences through her books, interviews, shows, scripts. From memory from reading Wishful Drinking, she said she left school at 15 to work on stage with her mother. Carrie Fisher didn’t need a degree to be smart. She was clever and witty and profoundly knowing. She’d been to hell and back. Vale Carrie Fisher. Vale Debbie Reynolds. Condolences to those who loved you.

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