A poem for the HSE 

Another phonecall informing me of just another fax, saying she’s too high risk we just can’t take her back. 

Another postponed court case, add it on to the list of things I don’t want to face.

Did I not tell you I didn’t want to be transferred? Or was that just more of my words not heard ?.

Did I not plead and say please don’t make me go ? You sent me and I hit yet another low.

“Katie this is a matter of life and death”. No dermot it’s just another threat.

Another submission to add to you collection, I never asked for your protection.

Another legal battle you have set me up to fight, let’s look forward to more sleepless nights. 

Continuous court cases for the last four years. Do you want a souvenir? Because you can have my river of tears.

To get it you must travel across the waters, I ask you can you leave your daughter ?

Be my dad for the day. He can quote you and say “we’re very sorry but it’s the only way”.

Be honest just say getting sued is what you really fear, stop telling the judge there is no service available here.

How can you be so afraid of an eighteen year old? Too much risk of finding her cold.

You disregard my future plans my own words because you hold the consultants biased report too high, when he writes she has intent to die. 

Safe behaviour isn’t enough to clear my name, for he tells you I’m just playing the game.

To my non existent home team and the HSE, this won’t be my final plea.

But I’ve had my share; I’ve had enough, it’s tiring and exhausting trying to remain so tough.

If there is truly no service put a bespoke one in place, stop hesitating it’s beginning to look like a disgrace.

My mood hasn’t deteriorated, my suicide risk hasn’t increased. I’m only eighteen I don’t want to be pronounced deceased.

Just give me a chance to prove all I can give, I have my whole life ahead of me yet to live.

Stop hoping I will break under your bait, please in me just have a little faith.

I have nothing over here, nothing anyway I hold dear. No family not friends to comfort me, just locked doors to which I don’t hold the key.

This is not the life I want to lead, this is not the kind of treatment I need. 

Please let me come back let me have a chance, I miss my culture and the Irish dance.

Please don’t make me stay here another day, that is all I have left to say.

I hope you take the chance to listen to my concerns and put in place the plans for my return.

This was a poem I wrote while being detained in England. I was fighting to come home and the HSE were trying to find every reason for me to say. I got so angry and about two hours into that anger this was formed. I didn’t intend to show anyone but the following day I took a notion to send it to the legal teams involved in the case. This was then used as evidence in the case. I came home two months later. The stories of Why, how and when are a story for another day but for right now the moral of the story is Say what you have to say, be honest and express you views. If people don’t know how can they help. We have to talk. After a
ll it is how we communicate. Talking about tough stuff can be hard and damaging yes at the start but when you come out the other side. Your stronger for it. And right now you mightn’t believe me but one day you’ll be convinced. 

Lots of love 


A poem for the HSE