exactlyyyyy, at this point I am trying to take a stern approach to it like... "you're not my doctor so you don't need to know", and if they get the arse about it then they can get into the centre of the sun. I will not waste what energy I have left explaining to someone who I won't see again anyway.

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I've got some well meaning students at work who ask if I'm okay when I've got my cane or a sling on and it's like... I have to try to explain that yes I'm okay but also no I'm in a lot of pain, this isn't going to get better, and I kind of mime my whole body and say "broken". 😭

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it absolutely gets on my tits when I tell someone for the umpteenth time that I am *chronically* tired and in pain, and they go "don't worry, it'll get better?" no, no it shitting won't, but thank you for reminding me of my eternal suffering you regular bodied bastard

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I'm sorry Ruby this sucks

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every day is a good day to remind everyone to read Thrum by Meg Smitherman

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