The Spoonie Club

Think You’re Spoonie Material?

Choose the most accurate answer for each scenario. The number of your answer equals your points for that question (i.e., 1 = 1 point, 2 = 2 points, etc.), and we’ll total your score at the end.

On an average Saturday night, do you prefer:

1. Going out on the town. Doesn’t matter what or with who, so long as you aren’t sitting at home with your thoughts.

2. Game night with friends. Moderate socializing, but putting on pants is the most effort you’re willing to invest.

3. Binge-watching. Do you honestly know what you’re watching anymore? Probably not. Are you even invested in the show? You can’t name a single character. But it requires nothing more from you than breathing, an occasional (only when mandatory) bathroom break, and swatting the remote to convince the streaming platform you’re still in the room and (vaguely) alive. Best of all, you might doze off and accidentally get a few minutes of sleep!

You describe your go-to outfit as:

1. Trendy. You stay up-to-the-minute on the latest fast fashion spouted by influencers and the runway. And you’ll only wear it once—probably for an hour, tops.

2. Comfortable. “Dry Clean Only” and “Iron Low” labels have no business showing up on your clothing. If you can’t pull it on straight out of the dryer, you’re not buying it.

3. Pajamas. You have a complete line of pajamas: Day pajamas, afternoon pajamas, and sleeping pajamas. Oh, and don’t forget fancy pajamas that are passable for wear in public. They come in assorted soft fabrics and a single size: Shapeless. Maybe they’re clean, maybe not; like sweatpants, pajamas are most at home tossed on the floor. And if you don’t own at least one set with your favorite cartoon character on the front, you’re doing it wrong.

When choosing a meal, you first scope out:

1. Calories. No, wait, sugar content. Hang on—is it keto? Or are you on paleo now? Mediterranean? (Can you remember what diet fad you changed to this week?)

2. Shareability. Odds are you’re going to decide halfway through the meal what your friend ordered looks delish, too, so you might as well make sure you’re getting enough to split.

3. Wait, ONE thing? How are you supposed to prioritize allergies over GI issues? Have to break out a magnifying glass to read through the entire ingredient list and ensure there aren’t triggers hiding out there. (Assuming, of course, you’re somewhere that has the list published or are in a restaurant with competent staff who know what’s in the food beyond “Uh, chicken?”) Then there’s the math of the Nutrition Label and trying to decide if that 0.005g of sugar will upset the delicate balance of the pancreas and throw you into Nausea Town. Or did the manufacturer neglect to highlight the sugar alcohols that your stomach absolutely refuses to digest? And what if you fuck up the math and accidentally ingest more fiber than expected and land in Stomach Cramp Central? There’s no ONE thing to consider when putting more than water down your throat. (Come to think of it, don’t even get started on water!)

You misplaced your phone. Your response?

1. “Everyone needs to stop what they’re doing and help me find it! If I don’t have it back in my hand in the next five seconds, I will have an immediate meltdown! I literally cannot survive without that artificial umbilicus!”

2. “Meh. I’ll probably look for it in a bit, but it’s nice to take a breath for a minute. I forgot what it felt like to not have a constant stream of negativity and judgment beamed into my brain.”

3. “That thing that holds my doctor appointments and the app with the endless string of ‘Normal’ test results? It’s a phone?”

Your spirit animal is:

1. A chihuahua—like the one in the movies. No, wait, corgis are popular now because of Bridgerton, right? Or are poodles still considered the best because of how elegant and inoffensive they are?

2. A llama. They’re soft and cute (in the right light), but they aren’t afraid to spit at people they don’t like.

3. Roadkill. We’re talking about something no longer identifiable as whatever animal it originally was, it’s been run over by so many semi-trucks. Left to rot in the summer heat for a week. And pounded into the dirt by a freak thunderstorm. Then picked over by the local scavengers. Maybe just one eye left at this point. Teeth exposed in a broken smile. One tuft of hair clinging on for dear life as the tornado bears down.

You won the BIG lottery. What are you doing with the winnings?

1. Luxury vacay! You’re going to end up plastered across every social platform on super yachts, at the top resorts, and lounging in penthouse suites!

2. Invested Donor. You’re humble in your newfound tax bracket. So while you’ll probably upgrade your living situation, you also have plans to help your family and causes you believe in.

3. A new body. No, seriously, you’re putting in an order for an android replacement. You’ve had it with your current malfunctioning disaster. All those zeroes ought to be enough for something that WORKS.

Everyone’s hitting the dance floor. Where are you?

1. Center of the floor, hit with the spotlight, everyone staring (and hating).

2. You’ve got some old-school moves (translation: the 90s are ba-ack!), and—provided you’ve had at least one drink—you aren’t afraid to tear it up. In the corner.

3. In the interest of preventing everyone the embarrassment of dragging your ass to Urgent Care for a sprain/strain/dislocation, you have scoped out the most comfortable chair in the entire joint (and usually booted out an old grandmother to get it) and volunteered to watch the purses. Sure, you’ll end up bruised to hell from the weight of all those bags piled on top of you, but it beats the humiliation of taking one step onto the floor and falling on your ass because your ankle decided it didn’t want to move in the same direction as the rest of your body.

Sex: Yes or No?

1. Duh! YES!

2. Maybe? Is “maybe” an acceptable answer?

3. What part of “My body fucking hurts” is so difficult to comprehend? And, no, that doesn’t equate to “I don’t love you” or “I don’t find you attractive.” It simply means, “I am in so much pain, the thought of breathing makes me wish I was dead. Therefore, your suggestion of repeatedly smashing your body into mine is nowhere near my Top 100 ideas of how I want to spend the next 24 hours of my life.”

On average, you drink how much water every day?

1. One gallon. No, wait, maybe it’s two gallons. Hang on—is it half your body weight in gallons or ounces?

2. You have no idea, but your pee is relatively clear, so you feel confident you aren’t about to die of dehydration.

3. Drinking water means peeing. Peeing means getting up from a prone position. Getting up means moving. Movement means pain. And no one has offered to permanently put you on an IV drip. Water goes in (most of it makes it down the throat; a little goes into the lungs), but it’s equivalent to rain in the desert. You haven’t died yet, so where’s the harm?

Quick: What’s on your mind at this very moment!

1. “ME!”

2. “The world is going to hell in a handbasket. I don’t know how to cope with so many existential crises at one time. Am I overwhelmed or actually reasonably well-adjusted? Is there any hope for the future? Can I make any kind of a difference, or is it all wasted effort?”

3. “Is my body going to function today? Will my brain form words today? Am I going to get up and be a whole person or have to pretend like I did yesterday? Will that test result be ‘normal’ like all the others? Is it normal? Am I actually normal? Does that make me crazy? Am I crazy? Is this all in my head? Can I make it stop if I really want to? Why doesn’t it stop when I tell it to? If I scream ‘STOP’ at the top of my lungs, will the pain and confusion go away? It never did the last 50,000 times I tried. Why does no one believe me? I just want to be normal. What is ‘normal?’ Can I have one day without pain? Is it so much to ask to find the right word when I need it? Why is my brain failing me? If I go to sleep again, will it fix everything? Why doesn’t sleep fix anything? What’s the word I’m looking for? Is that a new pain? Is it real pain? How do I know when to trust my pain signals? What’s it like to be normal?”

Score Yourself

Got your point total? Great, let’s see if you have what it takes to be a full-fledged member of the Spoonie Club!

10-15: Not Making Spoonie Happen

Ooh, sorry about that. You might make the cut in the “real world,” but you don’t have what it takes to be in this Club. Our advice is to reevaluate your life choices and do more looking OUT versus IN. (Better luck next time)

16-25: The Limit Does Exist

So CLOSE! You’re right on the bubble of understanding what Spoonie life is all about, but you’ve still got some homework to do. Not to worry, though—you’re just one diagnosis away from Club membership!

26-30: On Weekdays (and Weekends) We Wear Sweatpants

Welcome, fellow Spoonie! You clearly know your flare days from your bad days (and all the shades of grey in between). There’s no aspect of chronic pain life you don’t understand, and we are happy to induct you into the coolest Club around. (Not that you weren’t already aware of that fact)