What a great way to explain being sick with TM.

Thank you so much for posting.

Candy K.

Candis Kalley
[EMAIL PROTECTED]
EarthLink Revolves Around You.


----- Original Message ----- 
From: [EMAIL PROTECTED] 
To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Cc: tmic-list@eskimo.com
Sent: 5/29/2007 7:58:38 PM 
Subject: [TMIC] Spoon Theory


Someone posted this on the TMIC awhile back and I copied it.  For those of you 
who haven't seen it, here it is:
The Spoon Theory 
Written by a woman named ‘Christine’
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 effected, 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 
your self 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 th!
 an 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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