Intro to Twitter: A batch of April's best Tweets (of mine)

Chock full of the funniest and weirdest links, lists and pics I've been able to find over the past few days! I hope it provides some amusement. Judging by my international stats, I'm doin' an okay job of it so far. I've now got followers from every continent! If you're unfamiliar with Twitter, no worries - just click the "ow.ly" link next to whichever subjects grab your interest, and it'll take you to the article I'm discussing. Have fun, and get hooked like the rest of us!

April 29th

• 00:41 What's the measurement term I'm looking for - furlong? Furlough?? Am I even close? Text my cell if you know! Settle a bet for me! #
• 02:28 RT @atomicrose: @prettyh Furlong! [Thank you, Casey! Bonus points: How MUCH is a furlong??] #
• 06:25 @aliciamcauley I am SO EXCITED about our upcoming @chuckpalahniuk experience! So...I'll be Scotland and you'll be Ireland? ow.ly/4lNQ #
• 08:40 I have vegetarian/vegan friends. We respect each other. Possibly why this ("they forced meat on meee!! RAPE!") irks me so. ow.ly/4lHt #
• 10:20 Whoo, boy. LJ never fails to deliver ~DRAMA~. This time around it's a PostSecret about rape/not rape. See for yourselves: ow.ly/4mCi #
• 19:55 My friend Lana, who works at CBC3, posted an amusing blog entry re: Music That Makes You Dumb (I'm smart; so there!): ow.ly/4sCX #
• 20:30 RT @Carlanime: Speaking of the flu, WHO have finally raised the whatsit level to thingy. ow.ly/4sFu [LOL! Well put, Carla.] #
• 20:55 Doesn't surprise me: 60% of Twitter users quit within their 1st month. They're just not as good at link-hunting as I am! ow.ly/4sP2 #

April 28th

• 16:17 Too much to dissect for Twitter. Pics of Michael Jackson's Neverland auction - am laughing and shrieking at same time: ow.ly/4hLj #
• 18:29 This is just getting disgusting. Tori Stafford's mom says she had a secret meeting with a rich benefactor offering ransom: ow.ly/4iSJ #

April 27th

• 06:22 @madam_mina Shush, you! We gave the Yankees AJ Burnett for a song, and now the poor fellow's under pressure. See: ROY HALLADAY! <3 #
• 06:24 @mattgood Are there specific Vans you're seeking? I've gotten some from a shop on Queen St/Toronto if you need details. Adidas & Chucks,too. #
• 06:25 @strombo I'm overtired, probably, but I read your Chris Walken hashtag as "douchedbyabadangel". Good band name, I think. #
• 06:27 @madam_mina My beloved Jorge Posada is not that far from 40 now! I can relate to the "OMFG I'M OLD" feeling! Our teams SUCKED today. Bah. #
• 06:55 @johncmayer Also not ugly, ever: soccer (er..."football") players. It's true. Watch the World Cup sometime. Wall to wall gorgeous. #
• 07:30 "Bewitched" movie is on TV. Lazy late nite/early a.m. viewing, y'see. But it's worse than the RottenTomatoes 25% implies. ow.ly/3Z9v #
• 08:50 @ShayneWinters You should try AudioCaptcha. It's even more challenging to get right the first try. YouTube's doing it now, too. Stupid. #
• 09:30 Everyone seems fairly convinced missing girl's mom (Tara, mom of Tori Stafford)is the culprit. Interesting Facebook group: ow.ly/3Z4J #
• 10:10 Unless you love Woody Allen, AVOID "Cassandra's Dream". HORRIBLE. Even Farrell, McGregor & Wilkinson couldn't save it! ow.ly/3Z4Q #
• 10:41 @pweifenbach So envious of you being in Vegas! Have you seen the Cirque "LOVE" show? What I'd give! Beatles fans unite!! ow.ly/3ZRK #
• 11:30 Question: Is there something other than LoudTwitter I could use to have my Tweets sent to my open Blogger? Can't find another shipper! #
• 12:43 @ShayneWinters You need answers to WHAT? You only asked one question! And yes, thx, I'll take @stephenfry on "Bones". NAY to Cassie Clare!! #
• 13:25 @aerojad !!! I think, short of proposing marriage, you joining Twitter is the grandest gesture a man has ever made for me. It's fun here! #
• 14:05 I sleep with a fan on me nearly every night, and I'd NEVER heard the urban legend that it's supposedly FATAL! WTF?? ow.ly/3Z5U #
• 14:10 "I sleep with a fan on me every night" sounds more sordid than it is. I DO, however, have a Fan Club (I'm not allowed in): ow.ly/40hZ #
• 14:31 I think I'd like to be a BNF ( ow.ly/40jo ), in my own fandom. As in, I'd be the BNF of Ehch Fandom. Is that a bit too...Mussolini? #
• 14:45 One more thing re: me having fans: Why do only 19 people love me? Is it because I don't plagiarize fic??( ow.ly/40jQ )*sob*BE MY FAN! #
• 15:15 I know every word of 'Trainspotting' film, but every fan MUST buy Director's Cut. The deleted scenes? SHOCKING. ow.ly/3Z6s #
• 15:35 @Carlanime You've gotta know that a pregnant woman in a Naughty Nurse costume is some kind of niche fetish. Lemme know how it turns out. o.O #
• 16:00 Who among you has an account at Last.FM? (Aside from those already on my list.) I wanna spy on your musical tastes! Mine: ow.ly/40hK #
• 17:05 RT @MossySloth: @prettyh HOLY CRAP I didn't know Labyrinth was based on a book!!!! [See? My Tweets are educational! ~H~] ow.ly/3MyM #
• 17:50 RT @yokoono: IMAGINE PEACE:Simplest most effective peace meditation. It's a space transformer.Transforming the world as quickly as possible #
• 20:25 I have about four years' worth of laundry to do. Think that means I have too many clothes. Diabetes Assoc.'s gettin' a BIG donation this wk. #

April 26th

• 06:08 I'm laughing way too hard at this. It trumps all of the other terrible street signs. Who knew Welsh was so difficult?? ow.ly/3U2N #
• 07:05 I've long bitched about Daddy having no cell phone. Now I think I'm grateful; he wouldn't like texts about my sex life: ow.ly/3U30 #
• 08:25 Twitter can, apparently, cost you your job, reputation, relationships... Here are 5 of the "Worst Tweets Ever": ow.ly/3U4I #
• 09:25 While not impressed with the resemblance to Heath OUT of makeup, this Joker figure ( ow.ly/3U8C ) is FREAKY in face paint!!! WOW. #
• 10:50 Punk'd by the 'net: how some companies have gotten SCREWED by social media. I still wonder about the iPod rumour. ow.ly/3U9e #

April 24th

• 03:05 @MossySloth We need to sit down (er, Skype down!) & compare sleep disorders, I think. That and myriad odd subjects, like: ow.ly/3CO6 #
• 04:11 @ShayneWinters It scares me a little that you know enough about Dancing With The Stars to ask if the gymnast has been kicked off. And NO. #
• 04:25 Utterly fascinating link courtesy of @MossySloth, containing a whole lot of conspiracy theories and other überweird stuff: ow.ly/3MpH #
• 04:41 REAL JIGSAW KILLER:"Mr Howe's head, arm, leg & torso were found [...] Only his hands have not been found. " Why the hands? ow.ly/3MwM #
• 05:04 Another ex. of nature being warped: Cats in heat sound like babies crying. I hear one outside. It's creepy and makes no biological sense. #
• 05:20 Haven't yet read it, but LOVE the title of this article:"Children Don't Make You Happy, Says Expert Who Doesn't Have Any": ow.ly/3Mvb #
• 06:10 Um..good god. "Australia's Miss Universe finalist dangerously underweight". D'you THINK?? I didn't know corpses qualified. ow.ly/3MvC #
• 07:05 Just FYI, all of my Thurs/Fri tweets have been scheduled as of Wednesday, so if I'm dead by then and you're seeing these, don't panic. #
• 08:05 I can always outdo myself with weirder lists, you know. "Top 10 Greatest Floating Heads Of All Time". (Only 10?) ow.ly/3CEw #
• 10:10 @Carlanime You are the only person I've ever heard say, "I'm glad my sex life doesn't involve a speculum." It COULD! See: ow.ly/3CFq #
• 12:30 LOL!! Re: the chick who was nearly lunch: "Logic tells us that polar bears will do this type of thing in this situation." ow.ly/3Mwn #
• 13:50 "British scientists study Happy Face Spider". What the hell?? Mother Nature is sicker than I thought; this thing is SCARY! ow.ly/3Mv1 #
• 14:35 A hilarious collection of street signs and the like. This one forbids soft coconuts on hospital premises. AS IT SHOULD! ow.ly/3Mxk #
• 14:50 This should be a rule for LIFE: No obnoxious behaviour, no crying/unhappy children, or you'll be booted from the cave! ow.ly/3Mxz #
• 16:15 @foresthouse If YOU want a Dreamwidth code, ever, let me know! My beloved @jmatwood took care of me: ow.ly/3CGW #
• 18:20 Top 10 Childrens' Books For People Who Hate Their Children (I'm noticing a theme in my tweets today...): ow.ly/3MyM #
• 20:35 Another step in the neverending downward spiral of Lindsay Lohan: she's skinnier than the Aussie pageant chick. AUGH!! ow.ly/3MCa #
• 20:36 @michaelsheen1 I totally read that wrong and thought you said you just had your makeup melting. Which does indeed sound mysterious. #
• 21:15 A fresh, funny-as-hell take on Billy Bob Thornton's stupidity whilst visiting (read: forcing himself upon) my country: ow.ly/3MD2 #

My job, my life, and everything in between.

Ten years ago I'd have said that "nurse" and "teacher" were the two absolute last career choice I would ever, EVER make. I stand by the teacher bit. But some of you are wondering what's up with this medical-field melancholy I've been passive-aggresively expressing all over the place lately. The short answer: I don't like my job. The long answer? Well...go get the popcorn.

I worked at a medical clinic - family practice - for just shy of 6 years. Ten great doctors and tens of thousands of patients. In 2001, after I'd broken my ankle while training for the RCMP (I'd already passed all of the intellectual and psych tests with flying colours), my then-doctor offered me a job in his office while I sorted out what the hell I was going to do now. Not that the RCMP should have ever really been a realistic dream; my legs would have destroyed themselves, or me, sooner rather than later. But I hoped I could pass the physical and then go civilian, because my first love throughout my life has always been forensic psychology and sociology.

I'd started a pretty good entry earlier, but then I got on the phone (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) and didn't realize Vista wanted to reboot without saving my draft...so I'll START OVER AGAIN. I'll try to get to the point faster this time. But brace yourself for complete honesty. It's exactly what I more or less promised you would never see in this blog. All I can say - to some of you, at lest - is, "You asked; I'm answering."

Anyway, that job, for which I was woefully inexperienced and ridiculously unprepared (take, for example, the circumcision in which I assisted only 10 months into it), lasted from February 2001 to January 2007. I loved a lot of what I did there. Stressful? Sure. But I got to do stuff often enough - stuff that didn't involve filing or calling in prescriptions - that I managed to learn a lot, and I got a great deal of satisfaction out of the things I could do to make the patients' and the doctors' lives easier. Somewhere in there I even switched over to taking anatomy and physiology classes in college, and while I sucked at science in high school, I (with the help of a few of my doctor colleagues) started pulling off 80s and 90s on my exams. It shocked me to realize that there was something I was good at that I also wanted to do. I even remember the very day that cemented my desire to be a nurse - it was a Sunday morning, and something especially horrifying and stressful had happened with a patient, but once I'd managed to get the patient, myself, AND the doctor through the crisis, I remember calling my Mom and saying, "This is what I was meant to do."

So why did I leave that job? God knows I've asked myself that a lot, especially lately. But the truth is that my physical health was wearing down to nothing, and it was taking my mental health with it. Add to that a few key ingredients that made my work environment impossible to endure any longer - no matter how much I adored nearly all of my coworkers, my bosses, and the patients - and I knew I had to go.

What I didn't realize, though, was just how bad my health was. So when the job I walked right into upon leaving the Clinic did some major damage to my already lousy ankles, I started to worry. I found another job quickly, but then got so sick with every virus that came through the door that I had to bail after only a few weeks. This happened over and over again - me pushing myself into new jobs, new places, and then having my body and mind fail on me - before we figured out what was wrong with me. The summer of 2007 was hell, but I did get better once we knew what to treat. And I thought, once I was physically stronger, that it would be a cakewalk getting back into the workforce.

Hah.

Two or three more jobs came and went, each one seemingly too much for me in one way or another: bodily, mentally, or situationally. My Mom got sick in January 2008 and our entire world stopped; I didn't want to be away from her, and poverty would just have to do. But in March, I found what I honestly thought was the perfect job. The one that would get me closer to being able to afford to go back to school for my RPN. The one that had these great doctors who were so much fun to work with, and an office staff full of amazing women who I immediately knew would be my friends forevermore, and an opportunity to learn more, to get back into the game, to do something meaningful, however small.

That job turned into hell. On every level. I was treated like garbage by my "manager" (as was everyone else, though some got it worse than others), I was betrayed by at least one of those "great" doctors, and on top of it all, I was sexually assaulted one night by an employee who shared the building. The salt in the wound was being summarily fired for a completely nonsensical reason, only one week before my 3 month probation period was up. Presumably because I just seemed like too much trouble. I'd only just begun to process the assault when I lost the job altogether, and that did something to me - to my dignity - that I cannot put into words. I was broken.

That was May.

In September I started the job I'm in now. And it's okay. The doctor couldn't be nicer. My office mate is wonderful and capable and patient with me while I learn. The money's not horrible. The hours are all right.

But...I feel as though I am so, so much farther from where I really want to be than I've ever been before. I don't make enough money to set it aside for school. I don't do anything that affects people's lives at all. I...file. And at least once a day that famous quote from the movie Heathers goes through my mind: "I'm using my grand IQ to figure out which gloss to wear or how to hit three keggers before curfew." In my 6 years at that first Clinic, I learned a lot about medicine and people and life and death, but I learned even more about myself. And now? Now I fax referrals. That's what I do. Moreover, I fear, that's what I am.

That is not enough for me.

I was meant for more than this. I have to be. I see others' successes and am so proud of them, while still feeling like I missed that train, and they're all waving to me as it pulls away. I don't know if there's another one coming.

I know I'm lucky to have a job at all, let alone one where I'm treated kindly and am not doing anything too heinous to my body. I do know that. But I've grown so tired of feeling lucky. I want to be HAPPY. I want to stretch the limits of my potential and see if maybe, just maybe, I'm even smarter than I thought I was. I want to do something that matters, to the people I help and to myself. I don't want to spend five hours taking phone messages. I want to be elbow-deep in something gory and terrifying and possibly life-changing.

(And no, writing for a living is not that. Not for me. It is for some, and rightfully so, but...it's not my dream. I do love all of you who praise me so often about my writing - biased though you may be - but...it's not what I truly want. It's not all.)

What stands in my way is money. And the waitlisting going on at every school that offers the nursing program I want. And, I grudgingly admit, my guts (and lack thereof). This past two years has shaken my self-confidence hard. I'm amazed I have any left at all. I have failed over and over again, which, to a born perfectionist, is like dying tiny deaths with each near miss. Each of the experiences I've had since leaving the Clinic has chipped a little more away from Me, from Who and What I Am, and I fear that, if the money were to fall in my lap tomorrow, I wouldn't be strong enough anymore to even chase my dream, let alone catch it.

My recent trip to the UK, as I have said to some of my friends, affected me deeply. Because it made me see that I can watch some of the dreams I've had since I was nine years old come true. It showed me how big my world is, and how small a part of it I've been cowering in all this time. But it also devastated me in the strangest way, because it gave me the chance to look at my life from the outside - really and truly, for once - and I hated what I saw. And right now, at least, there is nothing I can do to change any of it.

So, in 6 hours, I will get up once again, put my scrubs on, and I will go to a job that I know full well is not what I thought I had/have to offer - and there's nothing at all wrong with that, if it's a means to an end...but...it isn't. It pays the bills now (and, actually, not even that, since I haven't gotten a single paycheque since I started last month; that'll change soon enough, mind), but I stand to learn nothing, and it's not contributing to a tuition-shaped nest egg in the least. I come home from a day at work and I just want to cry, because I think of all the hours I just spent making nary a bit of difference to anyone, anywhere. Including (or especially?) me.

But, for now, these are the cards I've been dealt. They are the product of some bad decisions on my part, as well as some limitations over which I have no control, and just good old fashioned fate. I wish I could see a light at the end of a tunnel. Any tunnel. But I feel like I've euchered myself somehow, and everyone else has gotten up and left the table. I have no idea when the next game will begin, or what the stakes will be, or if I'm just stuck sitting here, staring at the four 9s and one 10 in front of me.

I'm thinking those of you who asked are probably sorry you did now.

Mishmash: Linkspam, Terry Fox Run, and Mom's MRI!

Where to begin? I think I should first send out a HUGE thank you to everyone who's pledged in my name for the Terry Fox "Run" I'm doing in 6 days. You guys are amazing! I'm really, really grateful to all of you & I promise I'll make the donation worth your while. I also plan to thank each of you personally after I've accomplished this feat (it being a big deal because of my feet - ha!), but for now I must at least acknowledge those generous donors who've supported me thus far: Jerri, Stacey, Tierney, Matthew, Ian, Vanessa, Kathryn, the McCluskeys, Sara, Dale, and my Mom... I hope I'm not forgetting anyone! I'll make sure each one of you gets to see a wrung-out, gimpy photo of me after the fact. ♥ You've all outdone yourselves!!

Speaking of my Mom, many of you know she's been having a pretty rough time, health-wise, since January, and that she had a much-dreaded MRI this morning (her claustrophobia had prevented her from getting the first one done back in April - it's shockingly common for people to freak out and not get through this test). Well, SHE DID IT, and I applaud her bravery. Even without some of the comforts she'd been promised, which were taken away from her at the last possible second (i.e. me being allowed to go into the room with her; an extra-powerful sedative that she chose not to take after all), she kept it together and we're all so relieved that she can finally relax...and maybe this MRI can tell us more about why her health has been so bad for the past 8 or 9 months. YAY, MOM!! No-one should ever underestimate the guts she has.

Okay - it's MASSIVE linkspam time again! I love getting all those half-amused, half-enraged messages from you guys that blame me for you not getting anything done on the days when I post a bunch of weirdly fascinating links. But, hey, it's Monday! Who wants to accomplish anything on a Monday?? (I know; I use that line for every day of the week. Case in point: last Wednesday's endless list of urban legends!) So sit back and start clicking:

• TIME: Top 10 Scandals of 2007 - These range from U.S. politics to Michael Vick's pit bulls. One highlight reminds us of that totally whacked-out astronaut chick who stalked her fellow NASA dude across the country while wearing diapers. Makes you wonder what the 2008 list is gonna look like, doesn't it??
  
  
• TIME: Top 10 Break-Ups of 2007 - ...and they're not all what you think! Sure, Justin Timberlake was bound to make the list, but George Dubya and Karl Rove? Aww. I never knew they had a widdle womance goin' on. (This IS coming from TIME Magazine; they had to keep things at least a little political.)
  
  
• TIME: Top 10 Viral Videos of 2007 - If you feel the need to hear that alien-boy shrieking LEAVE BRITNEY ALONE! just one more time, this is the list for you. My favourite? DAFT HANDS!! I'll never stop being amazed at that.
  
  
• TIME: Top 10 Awkward Moments of 2007 - I don't mean to hassle the Hoff, but, dude, that drunken hamburger-eating video defines awkward. Hearing Alec Baldwin's infamous "rude little pig" voicemail to his lovely daughter gets a nod, too. Oh, and the one that made #6? None other than...
  
  
• Britney's Jaw-Droppingly Bad '07 VMA Performance - God, it gets more painful every time I see it. I figure it's timely that I post this video once more, since she barely made a ripple last night *yawn* when she kicked off the show with one whole line. Gimme gimme more, Brit. Srsly.
  
  
• Anderson Cooper Doesn't Care About Scientologists! - Someone call Kanye! Oh...wait...never mind. Anyway, I love seeing my TV boyfriend ruffle people's feathers. Especially INSANE PEOPLE. Which brings me to...
  
  
• The scariest Tom Cruise video ever - How bloody annoying is that awful Mission: Impossible loop in the background??? AUGH. You've probably already seen Cruise Control's video, but have you seen the brilliant spoofs done by Craig Ferguson and Jerry O'Connell? I'm amazed they're still with us. And that allows me to neatly segue into...
  
  
• "SAVE KATIE!" group buys tickets to her Broadway show - And from the sounds of it, they're the only ones. (Does anyone really think they can rescue Katie - oops, sorry, KATE - from Xenu??)
  
  
• David Duchovny Screwed Around A Lot - REEEEALLY?? *eyeroll* I don't think anyone actually bought his "no, I swear, I was only addicted to internet porn!!!" protestations as he slunk off to rehab. I say no, no, no.
  
  
• Robert De Niro says F*#K OFF to film - ...and here's hoping that spells the official end of Mel Gibson's career!
  
  Now to finish off with a few more entertaining lists ('cos I know they're you're favourite)...
  
  
• 5 Cheap Tricks TV Shows Use To Keep You Watching - No surprise that the first photo you see is from LOST.
  
  
• The 5 Most Obviously Drug-Fueled TV Appearances Ever - I don't know...I think Crispin Glover is really just LIKE that.
  
  
• The 6 Most Gratuitously Cleavaged Women on TV - While I'm pretty sure "cleavaged" isn't a word, there really isn't any better way of putting it.
  
  
• The 7 Most Unforgivable Grammy Snubs Of All Time - I'm still gritting my teeth over #6. What the hell??
  

All right. Enough. It's probably Tuesday by now. I hope you found some entertainment in that mixed bag o' links, 'cos if you didn't...well, cripes, they were the best I had at the time!!

I'll close out by saying that, if you were still planning to pledge a couple o' bucks for my Terry Fox Walk-Don't-Run (only 6 days now...egad!), I'm still gratefully accepting donations! You can do it one of three ways:

• If you see me in person (though I admit it's rare to see me in the wild), I have a pledge sheet and an envelope!
  
• You can DONATE AT MY TERRYFOX.ORG SITE & they'll send you a receipt.
  
• If you hate using your credit card online, but you have a PayPal account, feel free to transfer funds to me (prettyh@sympatico.ca) straight from your bank account! You can even use this handy button, which immediately puts your money into my Terry Fox Fund.
  

THANK YOU, AGAIN!!

I'm gonna walk the Terry Fox Run.

So...yeah. I left it awfully late - BAD ME - but I wanted to let everyone know that I have officially signed up to walk the Terry Fox Run on September 14th! (It's only the second charity walk I've attempted, and my ankles hated me after the first one, but I made a promise to myself and I plan to keep it.)

For those unfamiliar with the Run, you may want to check out the Terry Fox website. It takes place every September and raises a lot of money for cancer research, and since I've lost some important people to the disease in my life, I figure it's high time to do more than just donate money. This year, I'M WALKING.

If anyone's interested in donating/pledging for my non-Run Walk (?!), you can do so online:

Support Ehch in the Terry Fox Run!

And yes, I promise there will be photos afterward, to prove that I actually did it. Any support will be gratefully received - even a dollar can go a long way!

Thank you in advance, and WISH ME LUCK. I'm gettin' the ice packs ready for my ankles already. Hee.

Sick Chicks and The Spoon Theory

I've been updating this thing far too often in the past couple of days. But one more for the road, because there are so many people who have no comprehension of what it's like to have a chronic health issue. I've lost friends over it, as they've taken personally my inability to be the social butterfly I once was. I do better these days, since we've sorted a few of the kinks out, but some of my issues have been with me since birth, and to be in my life means you have to know that my limitations aren't something you should ever take personally.

It's hard to believe that it was only five or six years ago that I could be out dancing every night, get home as the sun came up, go to work on no sleep, and still function. I often joke that I used up everything I had in my early-to-mid-20s. That's not to say I don't still manage, of course - I have a hell of a lot of fun when I set my mind to it - but it's less frequent, and more...thought out...than it used to be, by necessity. It's true for all of us, I'm sure; nobody's the same at 30 as they are at 20. But for me, and for some of my friends (you know who you are), it's more than that. Our bodies start howling at us to slow down, and my god, the price we pay if we don't listen...?

This is where I shut up and turn to blog entries such as "Is it worth the risk?", and websites like ButYouDon'tLookSick.Com, which features the amazingly evocative and now infamous (well, in my circles, anyway) "Spoon Theory" essay. They say it better than I ever could.

Normally I'd just link to this (as I did to the Feministe entry, which is well worth a look - it's all about why nobody should ever assume they know the solution to a friend's health problems), but because it's now only available as a PDF, I'm pasting the whole essay here. Please read it. If not for me, then for someone else you may know who "doesn't look sick".

---

THE SPOON THEORY (copyright 2003 C. Miserandino)
My best friend and I were in the diner, talking. As usual, it was very late and we were eating French fries with gravy. Like normal girls our age, we spent a lot of time in the diner while in college, and most of the time we spent talking about boys, music or trivial things, that seemed very important at the time. We never got serious about anything in particular and spent most of our time laughing.

As I went to take some of my medicine with a snack as I usually did, she watched me with an awkward kind of stare, instead of continuing the conversation. She then asked me out of the blue what it felt like to have Lupus and be sick. I was shocked not only because she asked the random question, but also because I assumed she knew all there was to know about Lupus. She came to doctors with me, she saw me walk with a cane, and throw up in the bathroom. She had seen me cry in pain, what else was there to know?

I started to ramble on about pills, and aches and pains, but she kept pursuing, and didn't seem satisfied with my answers. I was a little surprised as being my roommate in college and friend for years; I thought she already knew the medical definition of Lupus. Then she looked at me with a face every sick person knows well, the face of pure curiosity about something no one healthy can truly understand. She asked what it felt like, not physically, but what it felt like to be me, to be sick.

As I tried to gain my composure, I glanced around the table for help or guidance, or at least stall for time to think. I was trying to find the right words. How do I answer a question I never was able to answer for myself? How do I explain every detail of every day being affected, and give the emotions a sick person goes through with clarity? I could have given up, cracked a joke like I usually do, and changed the subject, but I remember thinking if I don’t try to explain this, how could I ever expect her to understand? If I can’t explain this to my best friend, how could I explain my world to anyone else? I had to at least try.

At that moment, the spoon theory was born. I quickly grabbed every spoon on the table; hell. I grabbed spoons off of the other tables. I looked at her in the eyes and said “Here you go, you have Lupus”. She looked at me slightly confused, as anyone would when they are being handed a bouquet of spoons. The cold metal spoons clanked in my hands, as I grouped them together and shoved them into her hands.

I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to. The healthy have the luxury of a life without choices, a gift most people take for granted.

Most people start the day with unlimited amount of possibilities, and energy to do whatever they desire, especially young people. For the most part, they do not need to worry about the effects of their actions. So for my explanation, I used spoons to convey this point. I wanted something for her to actually hold, for me to then take away, since most people who get sick feel a “loss” of a life they once knew. If I was in control of taking away the spoons, then she would know what it feels like to have someone or something else, in this case Lupus, being in control.

She grabbed the spoons with excitement. She didn’t understand what I was doing, but she is always up for a good time, so I guess she thought I was cracking a joke of some kind like I usually do when talking about touchy topics. Little did she know how serious I would become.

I asked her to count her spoons. She asked why, and I explained that when you are healthy you expect to have a never-ending supply of "spoons". But when you have to now plan your day, you need to know exactly how many “spoons” you are starting with. It doesn’t guarantee that you might not lose some along the way, but at least it helps to know where you are starting. She counted out 12 spoons. She laughed and said she wanted more. I said no, and I knew right away that this little game would work, when she looked disappointed, and we hadn't even started yet. I’ve wanted more "spoons" for years and haven’t found a way yet to get more, why should she? I also told her to always be conscious of how many she had, and not to drop them because she can never forget she has Lupus.

I asked her to list off the tasks of her day, including the most simple. As she rattled off daily chores, or just fun things to do, I explained how each one would cost her a spoon. When she jumped right into getting ready for work as her first task of the morning, I cut her off and took away a spoon. I practically jumped down her throat. I said, "No! You don’t just get up. You have to crack open your eyes, and then realize you are late. You didn’t sleep well the night before. You have to crawl out of bed, and then you have to make yourself something to eat before you can do anything else, because if you don’t, you can't take your medicine, and if you don’t take your medicine you might as well give up all your spoons for today and tomorrow too." I quickly took away a spoon and she realized she hasn’t even gotten dressed yet. Showering cost her a spoon, just for washing her hair and shaving her legs. Reaching high and low that early in the morning could actually cost more than one spoon, but I figured I would give her a break; I didn’t want to scare her right away. Getting dressed was worth another spoon. I stopped her and broke down every task to show her how every little detail needs to be thought about. You cannot simply just throw clothes on when you are sick. I explained that I have to see what clothes I can physically put on, if my hands hurt that day buttons are out of the question. If I have bruises that day, I need to wear long sleeves, and if I have a fever I need a sweater to stay warm and so on. If my hair is falling out I need to spend more time to look presentable, and then you need to factor in another 5 minutes for feeling badly that it took you 2 hours to do all this.

I think she was starting to understand when she theoretically didn’t even get to work, and she was left with 6 spoons. I then explained to her that she needed to choose the rest of her day wisely, since when your “spoons” are gone, they are gone. Sometimes you can borrow against tomorrow’s "spoons", but just think how hard tomorrow will be with less "spoons". I also needed to explain that a person who is sick always lives with the looming thought that tomorrow may be the day that a cold comes, or an infection, or any number of things that could be very dangerous. So you do not want to run low on "spoons", because you never know when you truly will need them. I didn’t want to depress her, but I needed to be realistic, and unfortunately being prepared for the worst is part of a real day for me.

We went through the rest of the day, and she slowly learned that skipping lunch would cost her a spoon, as well as standing on a train, or even typing at her computer too long. She was forced to make choices and think about things differently.

Hypothetically, she had to choose not to run errands, so that she could eat dinner that night.

When we got to the end of her pretend day, she said she was hungry. I summarized that she had to eat dinner but she only had one spoon left. If she cooked, she wouldn’t have enough energy to clean the pots. If she went out for dinner, she might be too tired to drive home safely. Then I also explained that I didn’t even bother to add into this game that she was so nauseous that cooking was probably out of the question anyway. So she decided to make soup, it was easy. I then said it is only 7pm, you have the rest of the night but maybe end up with one spoon, so you can do something fun, or clean your apartment, or do chores, but you can’t do it all.

I rarely see her emotional, so when I saw her upset I knew maybe I was getting through to her. I didn’t want my friend to be upset, but at the same time I was happy to think finally maybe someone understood me a little bit. She had tears in her eyes and asked quietly, “Christine, how do you do it? Do you really do this everyday?” I explained that some days were worse then others; some days I have more spoons then most. But I can never make it go away and I can’t forget about it, I always have to think about it. I handed her a spoon I had been holding in reserve. I said simply, “I have learned to live life with an extra spoon in my pocket, in reserve. You need to always be prepared.”

It's hard, the hardest thing I ever had to learn is to slow down, and not do everything. I fight this to this day. I hate feeling left out, having to choose to stay home, or to not get things done that I want to. I wanted her to feel that frustration. I wanted her to understand, that everything everyone else does comes so easy, but for me it is one hundred little jobs in one. I need to think about the weather, my temperature that day, and the whole day's plans before I can attack any one given thing. When other people can simply do things, I have to attack it and make a plan like I am strategizing a war. It is in that lifestyle, the difference between being sick and healthy. It is the beautiful ability to not think and just do. I miss that freedom. I miss never having to count "spoons".

After we were emotional and talked about this for a little while longer, I sensed she was sad. Maybe she finally understood. Maybe she realized that she never could truly and honestly say she understands. But at least now she might not complain so much when I can't go out for dinner some nights, or when I never seem to make it to her house and she always has to drive to mine. I gave her a hug when we walked out of the diner. I had the one spoon in my hand and I said “Don’t worry. I see this as a blessing. I have been forced to think about everything I do. Do you know how many spoons people waste everyday? I don’t have room for wasted time, or wasted “spoons” and I chose to spend this time with you.”

Ever since this night, I have used the spoon theory to explain my life to many people. In fact, my family and friends refer to spoons all the time. It has been a code word for what I can and cannot do. Once people understand the spoon theory they seem to understand me better, but I also think they live their life a little differently too. I think it isn’t just good for understanding Lupus, but anyone dealing with any disability or illness. Hopefully, they don’t take so much for granted or their life in general. I give a piece of myself, in every sense of the word, when I do anything. It has become an inside joke. I have become famous for saying to people jokingly that they should feel special when I spend time with them, because they have one of my "spoons".

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This goes out to my own personal support group - you know who you are, LJers* ; how lucky are we to have each other, 24/7, no matter what else is going on in our lives? - and to my family and closest friends, who never begrudge me an extra hour (or three) off my feet, and who never presume to know exactly how I feel, and who love me all the same. I love you all twice as much for it.

*(Meli, Casey, Lucy, Shannon, Jenn, Joolie, Jessica, Seph, Carla, Jan, Matthew, Kim, Rachel, Polly, April, Alicia, Jillian, Vashti, Jess, Emily, Josie, David, Katie, Jason, JJ, Bri, Tiffany, Maggie, Aurora, Tierney, Crystal, Stephen, Beki, Sam, Mina, Linda, Cassie... I beg forgiveness if I missed any of my LJ Inner Sanctum. It's just the fog setting in. xoxo)

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