Still Here Club — Chronic Illness Humor & Resilience

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A starkly honest bedside scene: a small, scuffed nightstand beside an unseen bed, topped with an organized arrangement of survival essentials. A digital alarm clock reads a brutally honest time like 3:17 AM, next to a half-full glass of water with condensation, an open pill organizer, and a thick, black hardcover journal embossed with a subtle lightning bolt. A pair of noise-cancelling headphones rests coiled like armor. The only light source is a dim, warm bedside lamp casting a tight pool of light, leaving the surrounding room in moody shadow. Photographic realism, eye-level, rule-of-thirds composition, with the journal as the visual anchor. The atmosphere feels intimate, raw, and darkly comforting, evoking late-night resilience in the midst of chronic illness insomnia.

About Us

Meet the misfits turning medical trauma into connection, dark humor, and stubborn hope.

Our Purpose

Giving Back to the Community

Still Here Club was built by someone who knows firsthand how difficult it can be to navigate life with serious health challenges.
Because of that, giving back to the disability and chronic illness community will always be a core part of this project.


As the Still Here Club continues to grow, a portion of profits will continue to be used to help support individuals and communities affected by chronic illness and disability.

Our goal is to reinvest in the people who inspire this movement by supporting things such as:
• individuals facing medical hardships
• disability advocacy efforts
• organizations supporting chronic illness communities
• initiatives that raise awareness and improve accessibility


This is just the beginning. As the community grows, so will the ways we are able to support others who are fighting their own battles.






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About





Still Here, Still Laughing





Still Here Club started as late-night hospital memes and became a lifeline for people who cope with scans, scars, and scary charts using gallows humor, honesty, and solidarity. We’re not inspirational; we’re just unapologetically still here together.







Join Community











A minimalist black felt letter board leaning against a matte charcoal wall, the white plastic letters spelling out a dry, darkly funny message about chronic illness survival. At the base of the board rests a small stack of medical bracelets, a folded hospital gown with faint blue patterning, and a neatly arranged row of prescription bottles turned so the labels are illegible. Soft side lighting from a warm desk lamp creates gentle shadows and a subtle halo along the letter edges. Photographic realism, shot straight-on with centered composition and shallow depth of field, leaving the outer edges slightly blurred. The mood is sardonic yet empowering, with a clean, modern, almost editorial feel suitable for a chronic illness humor brand.













Our Crew









An IV pole customized like a rebellious art piece stands in the center of a dim, industrial-style room. The stainless steel pole is wrapped with black tape, enamel pins, and tiny dangling charms shaped like skulls and hearts. The clear fluid bag is covered in sarcastic vinyl stickers about survival, and the pump unit glows with a soft, cool blue display. The concrete floor and exposed brick wall in the background are out of focus, with a single overhead pendant casting dramatic, directional light that creates a sharp, elongated shadow of the pole. Photographic realism, low-angle perspective to give the pole a strangely heroic presence. The mood is gritty, defiant, and darkly humorous, blending clinical object with underground club aesthetic.





Aarav Sharma









A close-up of a black spiral-bound notebook open on a dark wooden desk, its crisp white page filled with bold hand-drawn doodles of medical equipment turned into sarcastic cartoon icons: an IV bag with a crown, a pill bottle wearing sunglasses, a heart monitor line morphing into a middle finger. Beside it sits a heavy ceramic “Still Here Club” stamp resting in a faint ink smudge, and a sleek metal pen. Cool, diffused window light from the left casts soft, elongated shadows and highlights the paper’s texture. Photographic realism, shot from a slightly elevated angle, with the central doodles in razor-sharp focus and the background fading into gentle blur. The mood is defiant, creative, and darkly playful, with a crisp, modern visual style.





Mateo García









A battered enamel mug printed with the phrase “Still Here” in chipped, sarcastic lettering, sitting on a worn bedside hospital tray. Around it lie a neatly coiled IV line, a closed pill organizer with color-coded compartments, and a tiny black notebook embossed with a subtle skull motif. Cool fluorescent hospital lighting mixes with a faint sliver of overcast daylight from an unseen window, creating stark reflections on the metal tray and soft shadows on the mug. Photographic realism, eye-level composition, shallow depth of field so the background dissolves into a hazy suggestion of monitors and curtains. The mood is darkly humorous yet quietly resilient, a clean, modern aesthetic with muted tones and one bold accent color on the mug.





Felicity O’Connor





Still Here Club was founded by Felicity O’Connor after surviving life-threatening medical complications that permanently changed her life.





After emergency surgeries and receiving a permanent ostomy, Felicity experienced firsthand how isolating serious illness can feel. At the same time, she discovered something powerful — people who go through these experiences often develop a unique perspective on life, resilience, and humor.





Sometimes the only response to everything life throws at you is to laugh, shake your head, and say:





“Well… I’m still here.”





Still Here Club grew from that mindset.





What started as an idea to bring humor and awareness to life with medical challenges has grown into a community for anyone who has faced something that should have taken them out — but didn’t.














A starkly honest bedside scene: a small, scuffed nightstand beside an unseen bed, topped with an organized arrangement of survival essentials. A digital alarm clock reads a brutally honest time like 3:17 AM, next to a half-full glass of water with condensation, an open pill organizer, and a thick, black hardcover journal embossed with a subtle lightning bolt. A pair of noise-cancelling headphones rests coiled like armor. The only light source is a dim, warm bedside lamp casting a tight pool of light, leaving the surrounding room in moody shadow. Photographic realism, eye-level, rule-of-thirds composition, with the journal as the visual anchor. The atmosphere feels intimate, raw, and darkly comforting, evoking late-night resilience in the midst of chronic illness insomnia.





Leila Haddad

















A minimalist black felt letter board leaning against a matte charcoal wall, the white plastic letters spelling out a dry, darkly funny message about chronic illness survival. At the base of the board rests a small stack of medical bracelets, a folded hospital gown with faint blue patterning, and a neatly arranged row of prescription bottles turned so the labels are illegible. Soft side lighting from a warm desk lamp creates gentle shadows and a subtle halo along the letter edges. Photographic realism, shot straight-on with centered composition and shallow depth of field, leaving the outer edges slightly blurred. The mood is sardonic yet empowering, with a clean, modern, almost editorial feel suitable for a chronic illness humor brand.









Boundaries, Warnings, Submissions







View FAQs











An IV pole customized like a rebellious art piece stands in the center of a dim, industrial-style room. The stainless steel pole is wrapped with black tape, enamel pins, and tiny dangling charms shaped like skulls and hearts. The clear fluid bag is covered in sarcastic vinyl stickers about survival, and the pump unit glows with a soft, cool blue display. The concrete floor and exposed brick wall in the background are out of focus, with a single overhead pendant casting dramatic, directional light that creates a sharp, elongated shadow of the pole. Photographic realism, low-angle perspective to give the pole a strangely heroic presence. The mood is gritty, defiant, and darkly humorous, blending clinical object with underground club aesthetic.