#chronic illness humour

[myalgicencephalomyelitiscfstom]

[chloezara11]

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The PERFECT T-shirt for me! 👌🏼🤍😂 #tshirt #ootd #chronicillness #chronicillnesshumour #funny #love #chronicallyill #spoonie

[sibrownphoto-tumbl]

Hmm, a condition otherwise known as Type 1 diabetes.

Which I live with. A full moon is not always required.

You are a werehuman. But you are not a wolf that turn into a human on full moon. You are a regular human who, on a full moon, turns into a way stronger, very angry and hyper-aggressive version of yourself. It is even harder to explain than being a werewolf.

[vaguelyoriginal]

If you saw my last post you may have noticed that I put ✨ Live Laugh Laxatives ✨ in the caption, and oh my god did y’all love it. I don’t think I’ve ever had SO many requests for a design before, and I am not one to disappoint 😎 Honestly I died laughing making this piece, and it’s now available for you all to get your hands on! 💩💕

[rainbowchihuahuabunny]

That chronic illness feel when you are in so much pain but you don't have the spoons to get up and get your pain medicine so you just lie there. In pain.

[mxmorbidmidnight]

Summers coming, you know what that means

𝓟𝓞𝓣𝓢

[jarjarblinks]

guys should i go to med school? because based on my health care team, all you have to do is gaslight patients, tell AFABs they have hysteria and Black people that they can’t feel pain. is that— should I go for it I guess? /sarcasm

[notabeanie]

Sort of like communism, sleep hygiene is a beautiful ideal that mostly doesn't hold up in real life

[eminthegrave]

Sooo… I just finished chapter 9 of my first draft, and probably the one I love most so far. Here is a line from the chapter:

‘the plan involved all the things pirates love most, gaslighting, trickery, blowing things up, and ignoring the law.’

I’m onto chapter 10 now which is called Running Away From The Problem, so that will be fun.

love you all, and stop procrastinating and write something.

=)

[noagskryf]

I'm usually very defensive and guarded in medical spaces because a lot of doctors that I've met are incredibly incompetent, but the moment i see my absolute bestie Chris the phlebotomist, all guards are down and we're chatting away. Absolute legend she is. She's the only reason i haven't given up on the medical system.

[myalgicencephalomyelitiscfstom]

[a-queer-mess]

it's that time of the month (the few days I'm unmedicated because I forgot to order my prescription)

[tashrex]

I am disabled. I have chronic pain caused by a genetic mutation. I wasn’t diagnosed until I was pregnant and that only happened because the healthcare system (specifically the obstetrics variety) was playing hot potato with who had to have miss “probably a bad outcome” on their service.

Being shunted from specialty to specialty is nothing new to me. My whole life doctors would play a fun game of “not it” with my file. One doctor I was asking for help with arthritis between my vertebrae that made it painful every time I took a breath for 2 years told me it would hurt less if I journaled and patted me on the head.

But I digress. I give all this background to say I have been vomiting for months and my body has finally given up and elected to nap my way out of this bile filled river I have been rafting down. So my darling husband has been picking up more and more slack as I burp like a lightweight sailor trying to drink their way through stormy seas. The way this tired man keeps stepping up for our child makes me very attracted to him.

This is a problem as 2 days ago I threw up from sneezing too hard. I seduced my husband with the promise of the least exciting ride of his life after which I forbade him from touching me with his too warm hands. It was too late and my sweet furnace of a man had to listen to me fumble for my trusty bucket in the dark. Between heaves I muttered “worth it” to myself and he giggled. He offered to take care of me but I sent his exothermic behind as far from me as possible so I could revert to an unmoving lump in a cold dark cave until this too passes. He sweetly whispers that he loves me as he leaves so of course I reply in kind, gagging after the L of love. He made a sort of wheeze on the other side of the door.

I’m really happy I have the husband I have. Before we got married I was undiagnosed and as we left another doctor who refused to help me I sobbed and told him he didn’t have to marry me. I told him I couldn’t promise I would get better. And today I just made him laugh so hard he made a new sound. I don’t suppose there is a point to this story other than I’m happier than I ever could have hoped but I would also like to stop vomiting.

Chronic illness is such an isolating and exhausting experience so when I have little rays of magic in my days I feel like I need to catch it in a jar to light my darker nights. Perhaps shouting into this void will help me jar today.

I just need to stop avoiding journaling out of spite for that head patting doctor. May the seams of her socks never line up where she wants so they are always a teeny bit uncomfortable. And if she complains I hope someone pats her head like she isn’t a grown ass adult with a legitimate complaint.

[welcome-to-the-agender-agenda]

The one thing trauma gave me was a great sense of humour.

[mxmorbidmidnight]

OCD telling me to get up and complete compulsions vs chronic fatigue making be unable to get up at all. FIGHT!