Since I got my “internet radio” the other day I’ve been listening a lot to the Swedish radio station, P3 – Svea. P3 is the national public sector youth network in Sweden, though more like Radio 1 in the UK than Triple J in Australia. P3 Svea is one their “break out” stations which plays Swedish artists exclusively. There’s a bit of pop, a bit of hip hop, some rock, some indie, a bit of everything really, with the common denominator being that it’s Swedish.
Since tuning in there have been some great new acts I’ve discovered, which I otherwise couldn’t find by checking the charts. One such act is Johan Borgert and Holy Madre, and the song “Smalfilm” in particular.
My friend Grant described it in these terms..
It’s an interesting song which I think could be a real grower. Although it didn’t grab me at first, I’m finding it oddly compelling.
…and I agree with him totally.
The melody line is very catchy… The version they’re playing on the radio can be downloaded from the band’s website…
I haven’t translated the song yet, but it seems to be about someone reflecting on a reckless youth, and being older now, and looking to settle down.
Johan has put a version on Youtube recorded in his bedroom which is “very acoustic” but which also gives you a clear ear for the melody.
Interestingly, the song is based on the original Dutch song which has a crazy-mad videoclip. Peter, can you help with an interpretation?
So yeah, that’s my Monday (outside work), listening to Swedish pop.
Oh yeah, and complaining about the cold, wet, dark conditions.
We’ve been lucky with summer being so long this year, so the arrival of winter has been rather sudden.
Still, I’m off to Melbourne this week, so I’d better get used to it. According to a colleague, the phrase “layers” springs to mind when I begin packing tonight.
I note the temperature in Stockholm will be higher than the temperature in Melbourne this week.
One of the constants of being an amputee is the need to repeatedly “tell your story”. From curious children on the street to family, friends, workmates, and medical professionals, you are constantly asked the question: “What happened to your arm or leg?”
Being a journalist, I’ve adapted to this fairly easily, but many people find it difficult. So, I have begun a process of trying to better understand how we tell our stories.
For The Limb Shift, I’ve spoken with another journalist who found it hard at first to tell even his own family. I discovered Miles O’Brien while Googling my own story to see what was out there. Despite sharing a surname and a profession, we don’t think we’re related. Nonetheless, I found an immense amount in his journey that I could relate to.
His story will feature in a future episode of the podcast, launching in October 2026.
Miles O’Brien’s life and career shifted dramatically at age fifty-five, following a severe accident while working as a freelance science and technology journalist on a one-man-band reporting mission in the Philippines.
After stacking heavy equipment cases in his hotel room, one of the cases fell and landed on his arm. Initially brushing it off as a bad bruise due to a “fairly good dose of denial,” Miles realized within twenty-four hours that the pain and numbness were far more severe.
Diagnosed with acute compartment syndrome—where internal swelling creates dangerous blockages of blood flow—he underwent emergency surgery, but during the procedure, complications forced the surgeon to amputate his right arm above the elbow.
The Immediate Aftermath and Mental Pivot
Rather than immediately notifying his family thousands of kilometres away, Miles chose to process the shock alone.
He confronted his reality by testing whether he could still write and produce stories to support himself, opening dragon dictation software and pecking away with his remaining hand. Recognizing that he could still work was a vital psychological turning point, moving him past a brief descent into a “very dark road”.
He noted that amputees inevitably face a crucial crossroads:
“Are we going to think about what we’ve lost or are we going to start working on what it’s going to be like to operate in life in a different way?”
Embracing a “power through” mindset inspired by Winston Churchill’s maxim—”if you’re going through hell, keep going”—Miles refused to sit on the sidelines, believing that taking time off would have sent him into a tailspin.
He finally reached out to his partner and children right as he boarded a flight back to the United States.
Life Since the Accident and the “MacGyver” Approach
Back home, Miles adopted what he calls a “MacGyver” approach to daily existence, solving each challenge like an individual puzzle rather than looking at the overwhelming whole:
“Every time I was presented with a challenge of how to do something, whether it’s tying a tie or putting cream cheese on my bagel. I had to be the one armed MacGyver.”
As an experienced pilot, getting recertified to fly became his ultimate benchmark of recovery—his personal “Olympics”. By placing a hook on the yoke of the aircraft and managing the throttle closely, he proved he could fly just as well as he did with two hands.
Miles O’Brien flying again (pic supplied)
His professional life as a television journalist also adapted. Though initially reluctant, he appeared on CNN to tell his story, and continued reporting for the PBS NewsHour, choosing not to hide his missing limb. When discussing whether to use a cosmetic hand or shoot around the amputation, his executive producer simply told him, “Miles, we love you. Come as you are”. Miles noted:
“I realized that I didn’t want to walk around hiding anything. This is who I am… I’m comfortable in my own skin and I don’t feel like I have to hide it for the benefit of others.”
A Transformed Perspective
Looking back twelve years after the accident, Miles reflects on his transformation with candor.
While he contends with phantom pain and has explored therapies to manage it, the overall impact on his worldview has been profound. He shared:
“If I would have had the opportunity to go back, I wouldn’t change things. I’m happy with my life and happy how it turned out. And I’m happy how it has changed the way I view the world, the way I view people with disabilities and the way I view my place in the world.”
Ultimately, the experience taught him that reaching out for help is a sign of strength rather than weakness. By leaning into what he has rather than dwelling on what he lost, Miles discovered a deep reservoir of resilience, turning a life-altering loss into a powerful personal win.
PS. We have the same surname, and we’re both journalists, but we’re (probably) not related!!
So we’re still going through old family photographs, and a definite and perhaps worrying trend has emerged from my childhood. The photographs are cute, for sure, but why do so many of them feature me holding, sitting on, or being photographed with a bucket? Though no one remembers exactly why, but apparently I had a childhood thing for buckets. You learn something new every day.
As we left dinner at the very charming and tasty tapas bar “Vida” in Paddington (Brisbane, not Sydney), I asked my friends “What was the name of that cafe/restaurant in Paddington”. Was it Scribbles or something?”.
“Scribbles”? No! Of course, I was confusing it with another favourite from the time, the legendary 1990s cafe in Wagga Wagga where you had crayons and butcher’s paper to delight you as you waited for your meal.
Vida does tapas in Paddington, Brisbane
My friend soon corrected that it was in fact “Puzzles” that I was thinking of. It’s closed now, though the building remains.
“And what was the name of that gourmet hamburger restaurant in the city?”, I further asked. “Parrots” I was reminded by one of my friends who added… “And you could have blue cheese on your burger. It was very sophisticated back then”.
As a university student in Brisbane in the mid-1980s, my tastes (and budget) didn’t go much beyond Puzzles and Parrots. I’m sure there were far more sophisticated places to dine, or perhaps not?
My friend – cropped – wearing a puffy shoulder dress, a sports girl bag, photographic timestamps and Parrots – Brisbane in the 80s.
It was a lovely trip down memory lane and a reminder for me that most of my cultural references to Brisbane date back to the 1980s when I lived here. I’d finished high school and soon after had moved to university to study, and then later to work in Brisbane. Lismore has always been “home”, but with the death of dad (in 1982) and mum (in 1984), I guess Brisbane was the place where I “grew up” in lots of ways. It was where I began to work out who I was in life, beyond that of son, grandson and so on.
“Every time I come back to Brisbane I wonder what my life would have been like if I’d stayed”, I told my friends over dinner. Of course, I don’t know the answer, and it’s a somewhat academic exercise to even contemplate how my life would have been different. But I certainly know it would have been different. I would have been closer to my family in Brisbane, I’m sure. (I’m renegotiating that relationship now). I may also have been doing a significantly different job to the one I am now. I may still be working at Coles. I may have found love. I may have had kids. I may have become a school teacher in Rockhampton. Who knows?
In many ways, I’m getting to know Brisbane again after a long, long break. For a long time, it was only an occasional visit to see family, though we would mostly catch up in Lismore, not Brisbane. But in the last year, I’ve been back a couple of times. First, sadly for Gloria’s funeral, and then this week for work.
For a bunch of reasons, I suspect I’ll be returning a bit more in the future. Or maybe not? Either way, the last few months have “updated” my connection with Brisbane, and I suspect my cultural references will eventually move beyond gourmet hamburger restaurants and long-closed cafes.
Half way through the flight from Madrid to Delhi, I woke briefly. The cabin was in darkness, but still I could see the man in an adjoining seat was laying down flat on the cabin floor. “That’s a bit odd”, I thought to myself, but closed my eyes and attempted to go back to sleep. Minutes later, I heard one of the flight attendants attempt to get him up from the floor, to which he replied he was “going to be sick”.
My mind flashed back to primarily school when the boy next to me at our weekly assembly vomited all down my right hand side. The memory of this and the associated arrival of sawdust and pink detergent (as was the common cleanup method in NSW schools at the time) is with me still. As was the memory of running into that boy twenty years later, when I was living in western NSW, and reminding him of the event. “When was the last time I saw you?”, he asked me, to which I replied, “When you spewed on me, Danny…” Some things you never forget.
Anyway, back to the flight. Within a minute or so, there was an announcement on the system, asking if there was a doctor on board. The man’s symptoms, nausea and a numbness in his right arm, made me wonder if he was having a minor heart attack. The young woman to my right told me he had been drinking quite heavily, adding that if he vomited, she would probably follow suit. “Just the smell…”, she added. Oh Lord.
The doctor asked the attendants to provide him with plenty of water, and he was allowed to lay down on three seats to (presumably) sleep it off. Like in the days of Moses, the Red Sea of the surrounding passengers parted. He’s still there now, as we begin the final moments of the flight.
I giggled slightly when I noticed several other passengers also began asking the doctor for help. Never let a chance go by…
Though this happened all very closely to me, I felt more sorry for the man sitting right next to the gentleman. I checked his clothing, and thankfully, there were no signs of “sick” on his clothing. And what about sawdust and pink detergent? Nah, just some newspapers.
Aside from that, it was a pleasant flight. I’m looking forward to the stopover in India, before arriving home later in the week.
The countdown has officially begun for my overseas trip. In just over three weeks, I’ll be flying out for a three-week holiday through parts of Asia and Europe. I’m incredibly excited, but as the date approaches, the logistics are weighing on my mind.
During a catch-up lunch with friends yesterday, someone asked if I had any concerns. Honestly? My biggest worry is the transition from the extreme heat of Thailand to the extreme cold of Sweden. As a below-knee amputee, I have to be hyper-aware of my health—specifically regarding my residual limb and my intact leg. We even joked that it was a “farewell” lunch just in case I disappeared down a hole in the ice! While I don’t actually plan on putting myself in that situation, the physical toll of these environments is a real factor.
The last time I walked on snow and ice (this is a frozen like) was in 2013. A lot of has happened in my life since then, including the amputation, so I need to be careful.
My schedule is quite extensive, but I’ve been careful to build in “buffer time.” Fatigue is still a daily reality for me post-amputation, and managing diabetes adds another layer of complexity. I’ve learnt that as long as I factor in a rest every day and don’t over-exert myself, I can manage well.
The climate isn’t just about comfort; it’s about management. For example, during the recent 40°C heatwave in Sydney, my blood sugar levels spiked, and I had to spend the afternoon resting and cooling down. Transitioning from that kind of heat to sub-zero temperatures will be a challenge, so the next few weeks are dedicated to very careful planning.
Between travel prep and recording new episodes of the Amputee Limb Loss and Limb Difference Podcast, it’s a busy time—but a very exciting one.
Although for a while I was thinking “Boy & Bear” would be a good name for our team for the pop trivia night at Yaya’s, in the end it was probably best to go with “Le coqs sportif”. “Boy & Bear”, of course is the name of a highly successful Australian pop group at the moment, and although it would have been highly appropriate musically, I guess it would have kind of muddied the waters if we had gone with that name. After all, I’m a 46 year old, and Mark is a 29 year old, although who was the boy and who was the bear could have been left open to much speculation.
Mark and I first met in Sydney a few years ago in blogging circles. Although he has spent most of his life in Perth, he spent a few years in Sydney studying, and that’s when we became friends. Coming back to Perth for this trip, he was one of the people I really wanted to catch up with.
And what better way to catch-up than to have a meal, and then later go to a pop trivia night run by a friend of his. We both have a strong interest in music, and we have complimentary skills. I was pretty useful on the rounds of questions on Classical Music, Eurovision and The Life and Time’s of Molly Meldrum. Yes seriously. Mark answered everything else, particularly all of those tricky 1990s music questions about bands like Ween, Nirvana and so on. Mark also secured red wine in the heads/tails round.
Although we finished in fourth place, we were tonight’s per capita winners. As Le Coqs Sportif, the two of us against much larger teams did well. While some teams struggled on the classical music round, we scored ten out of ten. We also got nine for the Eurovision round (thought actually we think we got 10 and were mis-marked) and nine for the Molly Meldrum round (missing out on the name of John Lennon’s first solo album). At one stage we were on 69 points. It was about then that I realised being “Boy and Bear on 69” was proof that we had gone with the right team name.
A good night was had by all…
Pop Trivia
Pop quiz, pop quiz, pop quiz…
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A little late but I was on the road. I seem to have lost your email address.
Here’s the original lyrics of Smalfilm and it’s translation in English.
SPINVIS – SMALFILM
Dutch version
Ik ben een vrouw van veertig met een sigaret
ik heb een buitenaardse stof in mijn bloed
ik werd verleden jaar ontvoerd door een ruimteschip
en sindsdien gaat het met mij niet zo goed
ik weet wel waar ze wonen
want je kunt het zien als je de letters van hun naam omdraait
de waarheid is een raadsel
en dat gaat als volgt
het is een goeie vriend maar altijd te laat.
Ik heb een eigen flat
ik heb de radio aan
het is alweer woensdag
ik heb een Golf GTI
een tijdje terug reed ik een fietser dood
maar gelukkig heeft geen mens me gezien
het komt maar zelden voor dat ik een zin afmaak
maar je maakt me echt niks wijs
het noodlot is een raadsel
en dat gaat als volgt
het kost je niks en toch altijd prijs.
Als ik uitga ben ik fotograaf
en ik ben schrijver als ik vrienden bezoek
op het ogenblik zit ik heel even zonder werk
maar binnenkort begin ik aan mijn eerste boek
in de spiegel neem ik soms alvast de pose aan
voor de foto op de achterkant
dromen zijn een raadsel
en dat gaat als volgt
het smelt in je hoofd en niet in je hand.
Ik ben een monoliet
ik ben de wetenschap
ik ben een grote man van 50 jaar
vandaag knipte ik een muis in twee
en die naaide ik toen mooi weer aan elkaar
maar soms vanuit een hoek kijken mij dingen aan
vanuit de schaduw van de kathedraal
alles is een raadsel
maar ik weet nog niet in wat voor vorm
en in welke taal.
Ik ben al heel erg oud
en ik mis mijn vrouw
en mijn oude handen trillen heel de dag
beneden kun je kaarten bij de automaat
alhoewel dat van mijn dochter niet mag
dan zeggen ze dat ik zo goed de kaarten schud
en dan lach ik elke keer maar weer mee
ik ken een raadsel over eenzaamheid
het gaat als volgt
wat doet pijn en telt voor twee.
SPINVIS – SMALFILM
English version
I’m a forty-year-old woman with a cigarette
I have an extraterrestial substance in my blood
I was kidnapped a year ago by a space ship
and since then I haven’t been very well
I know where they live
because you can see it when you turn around the letters of their name
the truth is a riddle
and it goes like this
it’s a good friend but always too late
I have my own flat
the radio is on
it’s wednesday again
I have a golf gti
a while ago I hit a cyclist
but luckily not a soul saw me
I rarely finish a sentence
and you won’t fool me
fate is a riddle
and it goes like this
it doesn’t cost you a thing yet you always win
when I go out I’m a photographer
and I’m a writer when I visit friends
at the moment I’m without a job
but soon I’ll start on my first book
sometimes I strike a pose in front of the mirror
for the picture on the back
dreams are a riddle
and it goes like this
it melts in your head and not in your hand
I am a monolith
I am the science
I’m a big man of fifty years
today I cut a mouse in two
and then I nicely sewed it back together
but sometimes things spy on me from a corner
from the shadow of the cathedral
everything is a riddle
and I’m not sure yet in which shape
and in which language
I’m very old
and I miss my wife
and my old hands shake all day long
downstairs you can play cards near the vending machine
although my daughter doesn’t allow me to
they say I shuffle the cards so well
and then I laugh with them every time
I know a riddle about loneliness
and it goes like this
what hurts and counts for two
A little late but I was on the road. I seem to have lost your email address.
Here’s the original lyrics of Smalfilm and it’s translation in English.
SPINVIS – SMALFILM
Dutch version
Ik ben een vrouw van veertig met een sigaret
ik heb een buitenaardse stof in mijn bloed
ik werd verleden jaar ontvoerd door een ruimteschip
en sindsdien gaat het met mij niet zo goed
ik weet wel waar ze wonen
want je kunt het zien als je de letters van hun naam omdraait
de waarheid is een raadsel
en dat gaat als volgt
het is een goeie vriend maar altijd te laat.
Ik heb een eigen flat
ik heb de radio aan
het is alweer woensdag
ik heb een Golf GTI
een tijdje terug reed ik een fietser dood
maar gelukkig heeft geen mens me gezien
het komt maar zelden voor dat ik een zin afmaak
maar je maakt me echt niks wijs
het noodlot is een raadsel
en dat gaat als volgt
het kost je niks en toch altijd prijs.
Als ik uitga ben ik fotograaf
en ik ben schrijver als ik vrienden bezoek
op het ogenblik zit ik heel even zonder werk
maar binnenkort begin ik aan mijn eerste boek
in de spiegel neem ik soms alvast de pose aan
voor de foto op de achterkant
dromen zijn een raadsel
en dat gaat als volgt
het smelt in je hoofd en niet in je hand.
Ik ben een monoliet
ik ben de wetenschap
ik ben een grote man van 50 jaar
vandaag knipte ik een muis in twee
en die naaide ik toen mooi weer aan elkaar
maar soms vanuit een hoek kijken mij dingen aan
vanuit de schaduw van de kathedraal
alles is een raadsel
maar ik weet nog niet in wat voor vorm
en in welke taal.
Ik ben al heel erg oud
en ik mis mijn vrouw
en mijn oude handen trillen heel de dag
beneden kun je kaarten bij de automaat
alhoewel dat van mijn dochter niet mag
dan zeggen ze dat ik zo goed de kaarten schud
en dan lach ik elke keer maar weer mee
ik ken een raadsel over eenzaamheid
het gaat als volgt
wat doet pijn en telt voor twee.
SPINVIS – SMALFILM
English version
I’m a forty-year-old woman with a cigarette
I have an extraterrestial substance in my blood
I was kidnapped a year ago by a space ship
and since then I haven’t been very well
I know where they live
because you can see it when you turn around the letters of their name
the truth is a riddle
and it goes like this
it’s a good friend but always too late
I have my own flat
the radio is on
it’s wednesday again
I have a golf gti
a while ago I hit a cyclist
but luckily not a soul saw me
I rarely finish a sentence
and you won’t fool me
fate is a riddle
and it goes like this
it doesn’t cost you a thing yet you always win
when I go out I’m a photographer
and I’m a writer when I visit friends
at the moment I’m without a job
but soon I’ll start on my first book
sometimes I strike a pose in front of the mirror
for the picture on the back
dreams are a riddle
and it goes like this
it melts in your head and not in your hand
I am a monolith
I am the science
I’m a big man of fifty years
today I cut a mouse in two
and then I nicely sewed it back together
but sometimes things spy on me from a corner
from the shadow of the cathedral
everything is a riddle
and I’m not sure yet in which shape
and in which language
I’m very old
and I miss my wife
and my old hands shake all day long
downstairs you can play cards near the vending machine
although my daughter doesn’t allow me to
they say I shuffle the cards so well
and then I laugh with them every time
I know a riddle about loneliness
and it goes like this
what hurts and counts for two
Peter, thank you for the translation. What a crazy song! I love it, though…