Teaspoons to tackle migraine
These spoons may not be used for stirring but they are serving a useful purpose. Picture: Alex Morgan
Knick-knacks have never been my thing, but I’ve had so many migraines recently I found myself Googling decorative teaspoons and ordering two boxes of six in the January sales. I realise the link between spoons and the state of my head isn’t obvious but, please, bear with and I’ll explain.
I was introduced to spoon theory about fifteen months ago, shortly after I realised I’m autistic. If you are, too, or are close to someone who is, you’ll know how much harder our brains need to work to process the day-to-day inputs and stresses neurotypical people take in their stride.
Spoon theory is a great tool for rationing our energy to ward off overwhelm, meltdown, shutdown and, in my case, migraines.
It was developed by Christine Miserandino, who lives with the chronic pain of the auto-immune disease lupus. She was in a café with a friend and wanted to explain her struggles, so she gathered up a dozen teaspoons and gave them to the friend. Christine then asked her to describe her daily activities.
Each time the woman mentioned something that would drain Christine’s energy, she took spoons back. Soon there were none left, illustrating how actions others don’t think twice about can exhaust those of us with health issues or disabilities.
Allocating the daily dozen
On a good day, like Christine, I start out with a dozen spoons. On one when I’m tired or feel a headache is close, I might only have eight. By the time a full-scale migraine strikes, I could be down to one or two for a full twenty-four hours.
I allocate a couple of spoons for the basic activities that underpin my day, such as showering, cooking, eating and chatting with my husband. An exercise class will use another two or three, depending on the intensity. A Zoom meeting or a few hours working at my desk might take three more. Food shopping could require two. A social event might be anything from four to eight.
If I use more than my daily allocation, the deficit carries over, reducing the number available each day until it’s been repaid. Unfortunately, on the rare days when I don’t use them all, the surplus can’t be rolled over – my energy supplies don’t work that way.
Recently, I haven’t been rationing them well, with migraines threatening or descending almost every week. So I decided, being a visual person, that I needed a concrete reminder to stop me doing too much.
That’s why I now have a dozen Portmeirion Water Garden spoons sitting on my desk. Each morning, I transfer what feels like the right number for the day from my big(ish) vintage milk jug to its smaller partner, gradually moving them back as they’re used up. So far it seems to be helping.