Kerryn Harvey on Mostly Ups: How I Survived a Flesh-eating Bacteria

Kerryn Harvey had told the story of her flesh-eating bacteria infection on stage, on radio and on Sunday Night before she wrote Mostly Ups. Here she talks about what the page asked of her that a keynote never did, why the title stops short of "all ups", and the long rehabilitation middle that people rarely see behind a finish-line photo.

You have been telling this story from stages, on Sunday Night and on radio for years before it became a book. What did the page demand of you that a keynote never had room for?

There are so many differences between telling my story on stage or on radio and writing it down. On stage and in those pre-recorded radio interviews, you only ever skim the surface of what you have been through. You never go into great detail, and you never get emotionally deep. You just give the basics.

Writing, I found I could get right back into those spaces where I was 13 years ago, when it was my reality. I had time to sit in those moments and really think through and understand everything I had been through. I could draw on all the emotions, and on all the things other people had told me about moments I wasn't aware of.

Putting that on paper was like going back there all over again. All the emotions came out again. It made me appreciate what I have achieved and what I have been able to do since those early dark days in hospital. It was fascinating, the difference. It was so much deeper. It was almost like reliving it all over again.

The title is Mostly Ups, not All Ups. What is that word "mostly" protecting, and were you ever tempted to write the neater, more triumphant version?

Using "mostly ups" instead of "all ups" protects against perfectionism. In the book I describe all the ups and downs of getting well, going through rehab, getting back into sport, relationships. Nothing went perfectly. Sure, there were some great triumphs, but it was not an easy road.

So "mostly" is a metaphor for life. We go through our lives striving for the best versions of ourselves, striving for excellence, but it isn't a straight line. It's up and down and all over the place. We have big setbacks. Sometimes we have to take left-hand turns, right-hand turns, go backwards.

That's what the word is protecting the story from: "Hey, look at me, I did this and I did this, how fantastic am I." It isn't about that. It's about all the ups and downs along the way, and finding ways around things, pivoting, making the best of what we have.

There's a great story in the book about how the title started, when the ICU nurse Lou left a message on my bed. I was having a pretty hard time, struggling with all sorts of medical issues, and it felt like I was going backwards. That wording was perfect, because at the end of the day I was slowly getting better, despite the setbacks. That's what "mostly" is protecting: perfectionism, which just isn't achievable.

Survival stories often cut from the intensive care unit to the finish line. What did writing the book teach you about the long middle, the rehabilitation years between surviving and rebuilding, that you had not fully articulated before?

Writing Mostly Ups taught me that most people don't see what goes on behind the scenes. They see the end product. One minute Kerryn is in hospital, extremely unwell, the next minute she's done a fun run, a triathlon, an open water swim, she's back on a bike. And people think, "Wow, how amazing, how inspirational." All those words I have heard over the years.

What I found through the writing process is that people never get exposed to what actually goes on between the beginning and the end of each of those individual stories, like learning how to ride a bike again. So it's been good to show people the brainstorming, the trial and error, and the number of people involved in getting me to the point where I'm posting a picture of myself crossing a finish line, whatever it is - fun run, triathlon, ride - with all the bloopers and mistakes I made along the way.

It's been fantastic to show even people close to me, who don't really realise the day-to-day things I have to do just to function, let alone play sport or work or do everything else I do. There's a lot going on behind the scenes before you see the glossy final product.

I've enjoyed exposing that part of my life and letting people understand how difficult it can be at times living with a disability, and how many people you need around you to live a relatively normal life. That's the main thing I learned from that long middle, and I probably hadn't articulated it well before. People say to me now, "I really understand you and how you've been able to do what you've done, because there was so much that went on behind the scenes, over a long period of time. It didn't just happen overnight. It was a very slow process."

Memoir means reconstructing 2013 from medical records, other people's accounts and your own patchy memory of being critically ill. What surprised you most about what you remembered, and what you had to be told?

There weren't any real surprises about what I remembered and what I had to be told, because we have hashed it and rehashed it over the years. I knew everybody's accounts, and I remember what I remember.

It wasn't surprise so much as it was overwhelming. Remembering what I remembered and getting that down in writing, but also listening to other people's accounts, asking them to write theirs, and seeing how overwhelming they found it, equally as overwhelming as I did, and how traumatic it was for everyone to relive some of those moments.

It has also been a great thing to do, to finally get it all together into a couple of paragraphs and put it into a chronological order that made sense. Having everyone's versions made everything make more sense to me. For the first time I could put the whole story together, instead of hearing a bit here and a bit there from someone else and not fully understanding when things happened, when somebody arrived or left or did whatever they did.

It was definitely overwhelming. That's probably the main emotion. Is overwhelming an emotion? I don't know. But it was one of the main things I felt, and I think everyone else who was part of the story felt it too. I'm just glad I've got it all down now, and it's there forever to rehash again one day when we're ready, probably over wine or champagne.

You coach clients at Nine Lives Training who arrive with their own limits and setbacks. Has writing the book changed the language you use with them, or made you more careful about phrases like "never give up"?

Writing Mostly Ups hasn't really changed the language I use with my clients at Nine Lives Training. But I am careful with phrases like "never give up", because sometimes you do have to give up on a goal if it's out of reach, or something happens and you just can't get to that endpoint.

It has made me more mindful about encouraging people to be the best version of themselves. Have goals, sure, achievable goals, then break them down into mini goals you tick off bit by bit, in little chunks.

They're not all built like me, someone who sets a big goal and leaves no stone unturned to achieve it. They come from all different backgrounds and lives and situations, so I can't expect everyone to be like me. Thank God for that.

I think I'm a bit gentler on them now. It's about encouraging them to be strong and mobile and flexible. If you want to go and run a marathon, that's great, but we're going to do it in a way where you get to the start line fit and healthy and ready to run, and you're trained enough to get to the end fit and healthy, and still live your normal life afterwards.

They're all in my age bracket anyway, around the 50 to 65 or 70 mark, so none of them are striving to do outrageously crazy physical challenges at the moment. You never know, though. The main thing with my language is that I'm trying to be a bit more encouraging and a bit gentler than I used to be. It's still a work in progress. But they keep coming back, so I'm obviously doing something right.

With publication close, the story stops being yours to frame in a room you can read. What are you most curious about, and what would you say to someone sitting down to write the hardest year of their life?

When I published, I held my breath. My book was out there for everyone in the world to read. All my friends and family were going to read things about me they maybe didn't know before. And all the people I see down the street and in Woolworths might have read it and know things about me I haven't shared with many people over the years. I didn't know what the reaction was going to be. Fortunately it's all been positive.

When you put it out to the world, you are exposing yourself to whatever people want to think or say about what you've written. It makes you feel vulnerable. But I'm okay with it now. Once the first person finished it and gave me their feedback, I felt a lot better. I thought, "Phew, somebody actually likes it." And when you start selling books and you see them being bought by people you don't know, you think, this is pretty good. I've had a really good response so far and I feel very fortunate.

As for sitting down to write the hardest year of your life, I found it cathartic. I'm happy I've got it all down. Whether I published it or not, it was great to write it down, relive some of it, go through it all again in my mind and have a really good think about everything. It made me feel grateful for the people I've got in my life. It's amazing what you think of as you go along, and it gives you a real appreciation of what you've achieved.

And there's the fact of writing a book at all. I was never going to write a book. To physically do it is a great feeling. It's as good a feeling as finishing a big sporting event, which is my thing, or qualifying as a personal trainer, or starting a charity. All of those have been amazing achievements for me, and writing a book is right up there with them.

So I couldn't recommend it more highly. Write about your experiences, whatever they are. If it's a hard year of your life, you'll probably find it cathartic. I would just do it. Whatever you do with it once it's written is up to you, but getting it down is rewarding and satisfying.

Mostly Ups: How I Survived a Flesh-eating Bacteria is available from Kerryn's website.

You can connect with Kerryn on LinkedIn.