The reason I’m so mad about this is not because of the inconvenience of having to re-jig my life to fit in the new operation date (or because every delay increases my risk of haemorrhage), it’s due to remembering so clearly the look on the GP’s face which warned me that pursuing the issue would get me labelled as ‘medically anxious’… Continue reading This Camel’s Back Is Looking Mighty Creaky…
You never really know how close you are to the end of your tether until someone or something starts hacking away at it. To the outside world it may seem like an overreaction to something innocuous, unimportant or even frivolous; but for those of us hanging from that tiny thread, it is the whole world – or at least the only sliver of the world in which we feel we can survive in. Continue reading “Someone Snatched My Security Blanket!”
A couple of posts back I dissected an article from The Guardian that claimed that there are no true outsiders, just people faking for the coolness factor. The TLDR version is that there ARE true outsiders but we are invisible to the eyes of the author of the piece.
Anyway, a couple of videos have popped up on my Facebook feed in the last few days that perfectly illustrate both the fuller meaning of outsider status and the ableism that led the author to forget or ignore the fact that we do exist. Continue reading ““The Music Is Outside…””
Over the weekend I read an article that made me roll my eyes so so hard I could practically see my brain. Eva Wiseman, a Guardian columnist, wants everybody to stop ‘pretending’ to be outsiders and admit that doing so is just a way for ‘ordinary’ people to feel ‘special’. Am I being too harsh, or does this seem to be profoundly tone deaf? Continue reading “On The Outside Looking In”
A recent Roller Derby training session had left me needing crutches just to get around my poky little flat; and, no, there was no injury involved – merely a compounding of the pain that had been gradually increasing over the previous few days.
Usually painkillers, sleeping pills and rest would allow me to return to ‘my kind of normal’, but this time the pain was persistent. Two days later I was still hobbling and exhausted. Eventually noticing that I had barely left the bedroom for most of the weekend, my husband came to keep me company on Sunday afternoon. As I struggled to find a comfortable position as we watched the remake of Pete’s Dragon on the laptop, I muttered the words ‘kill me.’ A sharp jab to my upper arm made me realise that I hadn’t spoken as quietly as I had initially thought. Once the film was over, my husband returned to his duties in the mini ‘studio’ and I turned to a playlist for solace. Continue reading “3 Reasons I Am Grateful To My Fibromyalgia “
I know, I know I shared a video last week (and I promise I’ll get back to writing full articles soon!) but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t post this. Continue reading “Subnormality”
I absolutely adore the Netflix original show, Santa Clarita Diet, but EDS warrior and activist Annie Elainey has broken down some of the reasons why this comedy horror resonates so much with me. And it’s more than just the delicious Timothy Olyphant… Continue reading It’s Justified…
As I stepped through the double doors that led to the sports hall I knew I was either just about to do something incredibly awesome, or awesomely stupid. After two diagnoses, more hospital visits that I can remember, and a full twelve months worth of distance, I I had decided to return to Roller Derby.
Now, I’m not crazy; I am well acquainted with the sport and know full well that I’d be pushing my luck straight off a cliff if I recklessly attempted to become a player, again. No, this time I planned to step into the oval as a trainee referee. Continue reading “Wheels, Pain & The First Avenger”
If we were having coffee I would probably be face down on the table telling you that I’d experienced the best worst night in a long time.
The last time we made official plans for New Year’s Eve was in 2012. My significant other and I had been celebrating locally for a while, but as a non-drinker, I felt a tad awkward continually turning down offers of champagne from strangers. So that year I decided we would do something different- something that both of us could enjoy, even if it meant that the journey home would be a bit of a mission. I checked the menu, booked our tickets and started to work on the pattern for my new frock.
Then I took some poor medical advice…