Just a little Pug with a Big Attitude

It's been 20 years since my trip to South America and it's this time every year when I contemplate whether many occasions of sickness over 4 months (including food poisoning, altitude sickness, pneumonia, and infected bug bites) became the origin story to the fucked up but medical mystery gut illness I've had since then, and whether that caused a ripple effect leading to other illnesses. Even if that's true, I don't regret travelling to an amazing continent full of wonderful people and magical landscapes, as I could have gotten sick in some other less interesting way anyway.

Those 20 years have been filled with some decent medical encounters and a whole lot of shitty ones, seeing healthcare workers who aren't terrible but also haven't tried that hard to help me when nothing is found to be officially wrong with me despite symptoms that match or exceed the severity of actual illnesses. And okay, a couple terrible healthcare workers. I'll never forget the nutritionist, who upon chatting about FODMAP and all the other gut related things I've tried over the years suggested that perhaps I needed to be more positive, like her friend who had cancer and believed in the power of positive thinking and no longer has cancer. I should have been given a damn medal for not standing up and screaming at her OH RIGHT MAYBE MY MOM SHOULD HAVE POSITIVE THINKING-ED HER BRAIN TUMOUR AWAY AND THEN SHE WOULDN'T HAVE DIED, HUH KAYLEIGH? but instead I left there and never returned to that clinic.

I have learned many things about myself over the years (and no this is not the part where I say it's the silver lining of having chronic illnesses, because fuck that shit) and my pain tolerances, that I can work through several types of pain but not others, and that sometimes changes daily. Some have called me resilient or brave and I usually reject the premise of those words in that context, because I'm just trying to live my life. I don't have intergenerational trauma, didn't live through a war, genocide, famine, poverty or a natural disaster. My life has been a road full of many potholes, but I'm not some kind of hero for living with chronic illnesses.

I have learned that the vast majority of people don't really want to know how you are when they ask that generic question and you answer it truthfully until the point that they stop asking. I've also learned I get pretty angry at unsolicited medical advice, even if there may be some truth or possibility to it. I've learned about the inextricable link between physical and mental health and that, shockingly, the body is an interconnected thing and everything affects everything else when it comes to pain, anxiety, etc.

I've also discovered what chronic illness does to limit my desire to climb an organizational ladder. I used to want to be Vice President in Charge of Something Cool and now I just want to work somewhere that recognizes I have good days mixed with bad days but can still be a creative and contributing member of that workplace. I don't think that's a failing, but rather a more realistic world view that's taking into consideration what it's like to have a full time job while also having full time illnesses. Also that work doesn't have to be the only thing in your life, much as capitalism would have you believe, even if it is the thing that helped to define you.

The last few years have been incredibly challenging for all of us for a variety of reasons, and to not end up hating everyone and everything I need to hold faith in the fact that masks do work and I appreciate those who wear them. I went 2 years avoiding covid and when I did get sick in September 2022, I went back to work a few weeks later and wore a mask everyday. I shared air with colleagues who got covid and patrons who either had covid or other very coughy illnesses, but didn't get sick again between October and March, even with my very rundown body.

As someone who may now be experiencing long covid, I have so much empathy all those who are struggling with long covid and other chronic illnesses - I always have, but that empathy has skyrocketed for all the new people who feel like they are being forgotten by society, needs pushed aside over the desire to have everything be normal again. Perhaps my increased empathy is trying to compensate for the decreased empathy I see all around me in the world. So many people are hurting right now, and the only thing that seems to have an effect is when celebrities get sick too or we talk about a mass disabling event disrupting the economy, because capitalism. I just know that my level of complete exhaustion after experiencing insomnia since September, having a constant headache, worst gastro stuff than usual, all sorts of unexplained pain in addition to my other unexplained pain and feeling like a cement truck has poured cement over me for most of the day is VERY TIRING and it's keeping me from the desire to go for dinner or on vacation.

You might think I have some wise solutions for the clusterfuck we find ourselves in and I do not. Just appreciation for the people still following covid precautions, whether that's to avoid getting multiple infections that lead to long covid, because you already have long covid or other illnesses and disabilities and can't risk making those worse, or you're just a good human. Thank you for continuing to care about yourself and those around you, even when it feels completely futile. And appreciation to the healthcare workers, the scientists, the advocates continuing to fight for all of us during this pandemic.

Local woman wakes up, screams silently into the void, makes oatmeal.

It all started with a local woman and a bowl of oatmeal on January 26, 2021. Feeling the collective angst of the pandemic world, I decided to write daily breakfast tweets in which I shared aspirations to smash the patriarchy, create a cure for conservatism, cancel disinformation spewing celebrities, reallocate funds from billionaires to education, healthcare, housing and a variety of other lofty and magical goals. All of these hopes and dreams were fueled by a big bowl of oatmeal that I’ve always found relaxing to make and comforting to eat in the morning, whether my day starts at 5:00 or 10:00 A.M. What began as a bit of a joke quickly took hold among my Twitter followers, as they embraced the creative fantasies laid out every morning, made suggestions for future goals and occasionally fought with me on the validity of the oatmeal aspirations. Almost two years later, the oatmeal tweets are still going strong, and I’m not yet bored of eating mostly the same oatmeal every day.

Lately I've been described as the Oatmeal Queen of Canada or Twitter Queen of Oatmeal (and started calling myself an Oatmeal Influencer), tagged in all the random oatmeal posts and had strangers recognize me while out and about in Edmonton or Calgary, starting conversations with “Hey Jen, how was your oatmeal today?”, and I genuinely love that people have connected with me through the oatmeal. It can also be a bit creepy at times, but more often a nice experience. Over the two years I’ve wondered what it was about the oatmeal that seemingly united a group of like minded souls on Twitter, as oatmeal isn’t exactly a new or exciting breakfast food. Then in March 2022, I heard psychologist and author Dr Sarb Johal on CBC Radio’s Sunday Magazine discuss building little islands of predictability in a changing pandemic world, and I realized the power of the daily oatmeal. Silly as it sounds, that oatmeal had become a constant for so many struggling in an unstable world. It was something to rely on, look forward to, celebrate, amidst all the awful things in their lives. When all else fails in society (and lately there is an excess of failure), there is still oatmeal.

Twitter has long been a divisive platform, fueled by outrage, but it has always been my personal internet philosophy to spread joy as much as possible even on websites dependent on disagreement and negativity. I try to share reliable information, to constantly learn from people and groups I’m less familiar with, to build community across the digital world, even if we are surrounded by verbal and physical threats of violence. I’ve been on Twitter for 13 years and for much of that time, had a low profile within the library Twitter community, with some current events and cute animals thrown into the mix. But in the last few years something shifted, people embraced my lifelong weirdness a little more than before and in a relatively short time I found myself with larger following of people who delight in my daily dresses with pockets, oatmeal, dog photos and my own brand of sarcasm, in addition to sharing marginalized voices and doing my best to ignore the constant noise of those who control the microphone. Like any woman on the internet, I am harassed by bots and trolls, but the joy still outweighs the anger in my Twitter world.

I believe that creating the oatmeal constant pulled people in, knowing there would be an update every morning that sometimes lamented the state of the world, sometimes brought a call to action, and was usually injecting a dose of silliness and magical realism into a world I’d desperately like to change for the better. What started as a personal love for oatmeal has grown into something bigger. It’s still just a series of silly Twitter breakfast updates, but those updates have brought humour and conviction to the monotonous days of many people. I have received messages of thanks from random Twitter people for the oatmeal and other updates getting them through the difficult moments in their life: a friend or family member dying, relationships ending, a mental or physical illness endured, and a common frustration with the hypocrisy of their local politicians. I’ve also had people send concerned messages on days I don’t share an oatmeal update, as it often implies that I am sick or there is something else keeping me from that breakfast constant. As someone with multiple chronic illnesses, I frequently have bad days, feel terrible in the morning and occasionally consider making a different breakfast, but the security of oatmeal fuels me too.

Will I eat oatmeal forever? Probably not. Will my time on Twitter eventually end or transition into chronicling my life on another website? Yes. But until then, I feel comfort in knowing that my oatmeal has brought people together in their joy, anger and apathy for the world, at least for a short time.

Local woman oatmeal recipe

1 cup water ½ cup rolled oats

Bring water to boil in small sauce pan, add oats and cook at medium-low heat, stirring continually. When all the water is cooked into the oats, cover the pan, move off the burner and let stand for 5 minutes.

Chop up ½ or 1 cup fruit (frozen in winter and fresh in summer) of choice. I use peaches, strawberries, raspberries, and blueberries and add to oatmeal, along with a spoonful of plain yogurt, sprinkle of cinnamon, nutmeg and drizzle of maple syrup.

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