Confessions Of A Chronic Fatigue Skeptic




By Shell Pettifer in The Mighty.


“Chronic fatigue, my arse!”

I have a confession to make. I have oftentimes throughout my life internally judged people for being overly dramatic. There, I’ve said it. I am a closet censure. I am guilty of internal eye rolls, doubtful compassion and quite frankly some completely uneducated thought processes. And now, with the tables turned, I feel foolish, guilty and judged!

Let me explain.

You know when a colleague calls in sick for work, they have that gruff voice and tell you they’re all flued-up and can’t possibly make it in today but they’ll try for tomorrow? You sympathetically tell them to get some rest and look after themselves and just let you know about their next shift. Well, that’s me, nodding on the phone to show I understand, even though they can’t see me, but inside, well that’s a different story because inside I’m telling myself, “It’s not the flu, it’s just a damn cold, have some Beecham’s and get your ass to work – I had a cold last week but you didn’t see me calling in sick!”


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