The Sisters of Mercy first came into my life on the eve of the millenium. They were plain clothed nuns.
I had just got out of hospital and had nowhere to live when I came to reside at Regina Coeli, meaning Queen of Heaven, across the road from the old Children’s hospital.
I was battling psychosis and I felt like an endangered species.
I remember Sister Judy taking my hand in hers on a visit to the doctor, and how we sat in the waiting room under a portrait of the man who discovered lithium.
Afterwards, when I was numb from the diagnosis, she took me to a cafe and shouted me a hot chocolate and we talked, and she was like a tortoise sticking her head out from its shell.