I’m so excited to finally be able to share something I’ve always been wanting to do – the launch of Chronically Clumsy merch.
Although the idea was initially sparked by self-interest, because I though it’d be cute design for a mug for my desk to fill with pens, but as I looked into my options I realised this was something that I was very keen to pursue.
So, without further ado, here’s the rundown …
For now, there are three designs which are available through RedBubble;
All of the designs are currently available in a range of homewares, stationery and accessories, and both of the Logo designs are also available on a range of apparel. The brilliant thing about RedBubble is that they work with a global team of manufacturing and shipping services, and items are printed to order so there’s no need to worry about a minimum order volume or a limited run of prints.
At this early stage, any proceeds are going to be re-invested straight back in to keeping the blog running, so that I’m hopefully able to start putting out higher quality content.
If, by some incredibly good luck, things change and there are any proffits down the track, I aim to invest them in an EDS research charity, but I won’t commit to a specific one as of yet as I would like to investigate my options within Australia.
Personal accountability, and the pathology behind why CI contributors post what they do, is a topic that is either delicately skirted around, or quickly devolves into an emotionally-charged flurry of comments in someone else’s post.
Surviving summer is always tough. There’s the heat, the humidity, and most of all, the expectation that you spend all of your time outside pretending that you actually enjoy it. Add chronic illness into the mix, and it’s tempting to find a commercial walk-in freezer and never leave it. These are my favourite products which have helped me this summer.
CHECK OUT MY ARTICLE “I DON’T KNOW” IN DISABLED HONI
Honi Soit is the weekly student newspaper of the University of Sydney, Australia. This article was part of Disabled Honi, the first issue autonomously edited by the Disabilities Collective.
Thank you. I am so incredibly grateful for not only the high quality care I’ve received during my time here, but also for the little things you do, the things that make me feel like a person, not just a patient.
My life will forever be changed by Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and its sister diseases. I will never be able to go back to life the way it was a year ago, and I had to mourn that life. I had to face the reality that I may never dance again, that I would have to put work on hold, and defer my university studies. I had to confront my fears that maybe this was psychosomatic, that I really just had Munchausen’s and was somehow making myself sick on purpose. But I had to stop grieving, because I needed to fight for just a little longer.
I like to have my own little way of conceptualising the spoon theory, because some tasks take much more out of me than others, but I am usually able to complete roughly the same number of little tasks per day. For me, I visualise this in the form of teaspoons and tablespoons. On a normal day, I probably have about 4 tablespoons, and about 6 teaspoons.
Yes, now my days are a bit different. Sometimes I have days when I can’t even get out of bed. Sometimes I have to stop doing the things that I love, and find another focus that is something more doable for my body. Sometimes my days are filled with doctors and pills, procedures and hospitals, and sometimes they tell me things that I don’t want to hear, but sometimes they do.
Last night was a bad night. So was the night before, and in the small hours of the morning, I said a quiet, wordless prayer. And today, today was a good day.