Four Things No One Told You About the Spoon Theory

Are you chronically ill? If so, I’m guessing you’ve heard of the Spoon Theory.  It’s a metaphor that uses spoons to describe the practical challenges of living with a chronic condition or disability that has you running on a gas tank somewhere between empty and half full (on a good day). 

Christine Miserandino coined the term to explain what it was like to live with lupus, an autoimmune disease.  She wanted to help her friend understand that people who are chronically ill have to make deliberate choices about how they will use the limited supply of energy that they have.

She used spoons to represent the “currency” of energy.  Healthy people have lots of spoons – they don’t need to consider how many spoons they’ll need to use to do what they want and need to do every day.  They don’t even count their spoons!  That is SO not fair!

If you’re chronically ill, you’re probably a “Spoonie”

Miserandino explained that those of us who are chronically ill have to plan our day, because we have a limited supply of spoons, and everything we do will cost us a spoon (or two, or three…).  We have to count our spoons because we have to budget them.   We are “spoonies”.

That’s the Spoon Theory.  You want to run to the grocery store?  If you’re healthy, that might cost you a spoon, but no worries!  You can just pull another one out of the drawer when you need it.  

But if I go to the grocery store I have to calculate the number of spoons I’ll have left and then determine the best way to spend them for the rest of the day.  Would I like to go for a walk?  Do I need to do laundry?  What about cooking dinner?  I guess that’s what frozen pizzas are for.

Fatigue: one of the common struggles of the chronically ill

To fully understand what it means to count your spoons, you have to understand fatigue.  One of the first facts I learned about fatigue is that it isn’t just physical – fatigue can be mental as well.  Regardless, fatigue isn’t just being “sleepy”.  It’s a persistent feeling of tiredness and exhaustion.  Right down to the core. It’s a lack of energy that feels constant. And a nap or good night’s sleep won’t really fix it.  Because it’s chronic. That’s the type of fatigue that the Spoon Theory is describing. 

When I was healthy, I thought I understood the concept of the Spoon Theory.  When I became chronically ill I had to start putting the theory into practice. 

I realized that there were four things no one had ever told me about the Spoon Theory.

1. I may not get the same number of spoons every day.

2. My spoons are different sizes.

3. My spoons aren’t worth as much as they were yesterday.

4. I can save my spoons for tomorrow but I might not be allowed to use them.

1. I may not get the same number of spoons every day.

What?  I assumed that spoons were like a paycheck (one that’s always too small).  I thought I could budget based upon how many spoons I could expect to have each day.  The problem with budgeting is that it assumes that there is a predetermined amount of currency (in this case spoons) to plan against.  

Chronic illness simply doesn’t work that way.  I might have eight spoons on Monday, a dozen spoons on Tuesday and three spoons on Wednesday. And I have no idea why!

 If you’re chronically ill you might find that there’s a lot of unpredictability.  You might feel lousy one day and you can’t necessarily tie it back to a bad night’s sleep or some activity that consumed all of your energy. And then you might feel (almost) normal the next day. 

Imagine that you head to the gas station and discover that your car with the V8 engine and the 19-gallon gas tank now only holds 9 gallons of gas. But tomorrow it might hold 16.  You still need to plan your trip and you’d like to know when you might expect to run low on gas before you run out of it.  That’s what it’s like when you can’t count on getting the same number of spoons every day.

2. My spoons are different sizes.

Okay, I’m learning to accept that my daily allotment of spoons isn’t predictable.  But now I’ve noticed that they’re not even the same size!  I’m sure you’ve seen the spoon illustrations with the spoons that all look identical to each other. 

My spoons don’t look like that.  I’ve got a wild assortment of spoons: a gravy ladle, a wooden spoon, a slotted spoon, a dinner spoon and some measuring spoons.  Sure, I might have 10 spoons, but ¼ of a teaspoon isn’t going to get me very far.

 I know you can relate.  In your head, you’re thinking “I’ve got this!  I’ve got 10 spoons today!”  It’s not until you take a moment to inventory your spoons that you realize you’ve used your bigger spoons and are left with that one teeny tiny measuring spoon – 1/8 of a teaspoon.  What can you accomplish with that?  (I’m not sure I’ve ever put just 1/8 of a teaspoon in anything.  When it comes to spices, go big, or go home!)

3. My spoons aren’t worth what they were yesterday.

Picture this:  yesterday was an average day.  You did all of the things you normally do.  Let’s pretend that you had 10 spoons.  You’re going to make dinner today, just like you did yesterday.   You used two spoons yesterday for this same task.  But today it will cost you four.  Why?  Because that’s how chronic illness works.  It has plans of its own.  It laughs at our expectations.  And it teaches us that assuming anything isn’t a safe bet.

Let’s go back to the gas station now.   Your tank is nearly empty. Gas was $2.19 a gallon yesterday.  Today it’s $3.02.  You thought you had enough cash to fill up your tank for your road trip today.  But you don’t.  So you’ll roll on three quarters of a tank knowing that you’ll have to stop and take a break before you can refuel and continue to your destination.

 4. I can save my spoons for tomorrow but I might not be able to use them.

I can speak from experience here.  When I was diagnosed with myositis I was suffering from crushing fatigue and weakness.  The kind that I couldn’t “push through”.   It didn’t matter how much I slept or how much I rested, I had no energy.  Zero. 

There were days when I literally did nothing except dress myself (sometimes putting a sweater on over the t-shirt I wore to bed because I didn’t have the energy to take off one shirt and put on another). 

One day I planned to go for a drive – I wouldn’t be the one driving, but my daughter would take me just to get me out of the house. I thought I had a few spoons saved up and so it didn’t occur to me that this would be a problem.  Wrong.  I got dressed, and I may have even put my shoes on.  But I just couldn’t do it.  The thought of having to walk outside to the car was more than I could do. 

Oh, the best laid plans.  I thought that by saving my energy – my spoons – I’d be able to invest them in another activity on another day.  But they had either disappeared or lost their value, like a stock that tanked overnight.  Maybe tomorrow it would be worth more.  Maybe not.

Use your spoons wisely!

So when you count your spoons, count them for the day.  Pace yourself but don’t push yourself. Spend them wisely but generously and enjoy them – no matter how many you have, how big or small they are or how much they’re worth.