when the world assumes wellness
the illness was not just my own; the silence around suffering was our society’s pathology.
Meghan O'Rourke • The Invisible Kingdom: Reimagining Chronic Illness
our bodies may feel autonomous, but we all live in the nexus of radical interconnection. Our bodies are always in communication with other bodies: our immune system is responsive not only to collective health policies but also to the emotions and affects of others. The immune-dysregulated body, therefore, is an embodiment of our porousness to one
... See moreMeghan O'Rourke • The Invisible Kingdom: Reimagining Chronic Illness
"Would diagnosis matter so much in a world where all people and patients had more power – one where we did not have to constantly prove ourselves to employers, to medical professionals and to the benefits system to get our fundamental needs met? A system of social organisation in which healthcare and other healing processes centred informed
... See moreIn some ways, the distinction between normalcy and pathology is arbitrarily defined—as well as hard to measure.
Meghan O'Rourke • The Invisible Kingdom: Reimagining Chronic Illness
something like autoimmune disease or long COVID falls into the third category of illness; it combines biology and biography in ways that are difficult for most of us (whether scientists or laypeople) to conceptualize.
Meghan O'Rourke • The Invisible Kingdom: Reimagining Chronic Illness
When an Autistic person is not given resources or access to self-knowledge, and when they’re told their stigmatized traits are just signs that they’re a disruptive, overly sensitive, or annoying kid, they have no choice but to develop a neurotypical façade. Maintaining that neurotypical mask feels deeply inauthentic and it’s extremely exhausting to
... See moreBy 1932, the historian Henry E. Sigerist had noted that medicine’s systemizing impulses were “no longer concerned with man but with disease,” as Anderson and Mackay point out.
Meghan O'Rourke • The Invisible Kingdom: Reimagining Chronic Illness
I watched the lives of others with a sense of wistfulness. I missed the burn of Scotch in my throat, the loose joy of a dinner party where everyone got a little high on talk. I wanted to be sloppy and fun again. “How are you doing?” Gina asked one morning. “I don’t know if I can take this anymore,” I told her. “I just want to get better. I want to
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