The Spoon Theory

The Spoon Theory written by Christine Miserandino

I've read this a couple of times since my friend Erin brought it to my attention in the first year after my diagnosis.

These days, I'm pretty fortunate. I've got a lot of spoons. They aren't limitless or as numerous as I had in my youth but I've got a lot to work with. Getting ready in the morning, for example, used to take individual spoons for hair did, makeup did, clothes on when now it's just one spoon for the whole "getting dressed and presentable".

 I still have to calculate for weather, temperature, and time of day. I can usually have a full and complete day - the kind of day where everyone forgets that I am sick - if I account for those three things. Sometimes - not very often and for not very long - I even forget that I am sick. Then something will happen and I will be forced to remember. My left knee will wobble, or I will spontaneously just start to tip over, or I'll be hit with a rush of fatigue that makes me need to sit down right that second. That's just what I live with. My spoons are limited.

Today is a difficult day. I'm looking for a job, and the ideal employer for me "decided to move ahead with another candidate". I was willing to give this company 80 to 90% of my spoons if I needed to just to work for them, but they don't want them. I'm not good enough, and they are probably better off with someone who's got the degree they want and unlimited spoons.

I have no other prospects and a crazy amount of time on my hands. This situation leads to crying at home whilst Ellen gives a school in Las Vegas, Nevada a new library. But in a couple of hours I will put on my game face and head out to a gallery opening for a couple of artists. That probably won't make me feel better, but at least I will be dressed and presentable.

 Maybe there will be wine.