Hello disabled comrades! This week, I am feeling very relieved for the ceasefire in Gaza and the release of Palestinian hostages. I hope we are all doing okay. If you’re just surviving, barely making it through — I see you and I’m proud of you; and I hope this week brings you a little joy.
As always, we ask that in order to participate in the weekly megathread, one self-identifies as some form of disabled, which is broadly defined in the community sidebar:
“Disability” is an umbrella term which encompasses physical disabilities, emotional/psychiatric disabilities, neurodivergence, intellectual/developmental disabilities, sensory disabilities, invisible disabilities, and more. You do not have to have an official diagnosis to consider yourself disabled.
Mask up, love one another, and stay alive for one more week.
I am so tired. Being ill and disabled is exhausting. There is always some battle to fight or some mess to sort out. As if fighting a benefit appeal and always struggling to keep fed isn’t enough, the doctor surgery or pharmacy always messes up my prescription, every month. Every month either something is either missing, wrong dose, the pharmacist has a go at me for costing the country too much money, the doctor threatens to change my meds or reduce them because they’re too expensive, or some other issue. Today my eczema cream is missing. As a side effect of my cancer treatment I have developed terrible eczema, so bad that I’ve been hospitalised on multiple occasions because it gets so terribly infected. Well I’ve totally run out and either the surgery forgot to send the script for it or the pharmacist forgot to put it in the bag. Either way, it’s not here, they won’t answer the phone and they’re closed all weekend. Great. FFS just legalise assisted suicide, it’s clear most people don’t care about us.