The second novel in my trilogy

A Boy and his Soul by John Graham-Pole A Boy and his Soul is the second in my trilogy of novels for and about children, teens, and their families, inspired by 40 years of caring for children with cancer. The story is a fantasy—but born of the real-life experiences of very ill and dying children. […]

Hallo, Hallo

I was talking to our friend, Cathy Lin, who works her magic to lift our HARP manuscripts (www.harppublishing.ca) off our computers and ready them for the printers. It put me in mind of the most exotic trip I ever made. I was among a group of physicians and psychologists who visited our Chinese counterparts in […]

Origin of an Epidemic

I just published the article with the above name in the journal, Medical Literary Messenger, about my first awareness of the devastating AIDs epidemic that was reported in 1981 in The New York Times. I started seeing boys in our hematology clinic with Hemophilia becoming infected with HIV through the infusions of plasma we gave […]

Letters to Myself 15

Ravenswood 47 Bristol Road Weston-super-Mare June 18th, 1953   Dear John, Thank you for your letter. I never know when I’m going to get another one from you, but it’s always a super surprise, especially the funny places they turn up in. This one was peeking out from under the doormat, and I’m glad I […]

Letters to Myself 14

216 Clydesdale Road Antigonish Nova Scotia 12/12/13   Dear Johnny Boy, High time I wrote again! I was just reading a book about yummy things to eat when you are a boy, and it got me remembering all sorts of things I used to love. And I often cook meals that Mummy used to make […]

Letters to Myself 5

Ravenswood, 47 Bristol Road, Weston-super-Mare, Somerset. August 15, 1949.   Dear John, I was reading “Biggles Delivers the Goods” in bed last night, and I turned over a page and there was another letter from you waiting for me. I don’t know how it got there but it was a very nice surprise. Jane and […]

Letter to Mummy

Letter to Mummy Blog 042518 I was inspired to write letters to myself by a letter I wrote to my mother when I turned 65 and retired from forty years of medical practice. Dorothy and I had already written quite a bit about art-based approaches to palliative care, and we learned it was common practice […]