#But now that I have insurance I can go on better meds

[spaceacerat]

I think the funniest thing is that this means I have been formally diagnosed with three "people are scary and I don't understand them/they don't understand me" disorders. Just within the last few months. Because apparently having a psychiatrist or whatever actually sit down and listen to you ramble about your symptoms and taking you seriously without just shoving medication down your throat is Life Changing.

After years of begging my therapists and psychs in my old town to at least go through the diagnosis criteria with me so I can know if I should try to get a formal diagnosis and being told no over and over, my new psych just went through them with me and went "Yeah I'm adding autism to your diagnosis chart". It was. That fucking easy this whole time.

I asked if I needed to go somewhere and get a formal diagnosis, she just went "Ah, no. I'm a [insert doc type here], I'm allowed to diagnosis you with it".

THAT EASY???? HELLO?????

[an-assortment-of-forks]

there are doctors there are hospitals there are specialists there is medicine there are systems in place so people do not have to suffer and be tortured under their own chronic pain daily and yet. they're all fucking inaccessible to the people who need it most!!! to what I would argue is most disabled people!! I'm so fucking done with the medical system.

[sabraeal]

1000 Followers Update!

Due to some super fun chronic health shenanigans, the posting for the 1000 Followers Celebration is being postponed a month! Posting will start on 2/2 with to all the ghost still standing in this room, and continue as previously planned from there. Thank you guys for bearing with me-- I struggled with the idea of even postponing for a week, but it became very clear on Monday that I would not be able to catch up with the schedule unless I took an extended break to recover. Can't wait to show you guys what I've got up my sleeve!

[victory-cookies]

talked to my mother and I think we’re gonna try to get me a doctor’s appointment and maybe see about getting me on antidepressants. so. that’s good

[yanderemommabean]

Hey It's been a while

First, I just want to apologize for being gone as long as I have. Things got to a heated point at home, and I had to postpone my move until August while facing some health concerns.

Im finally out of that god forsaken house. But it wasn't easy. They cornered me, and I cried for six hours trying to just hold on until the next day when I could go.

Im so so so fucking sorry I havent been able to be on here. I know you all must have been worried sick, and I should've at least made some update posts, but Ive been stressed as all hell in my new home trying to get insurance figured out so I can get insulin, trying to get a job for rent and Sammy's meds (he got diagnosed with heart worms, and im devastated at how long it's been going on so we're trying like hell to get him better, ive been up days in a row worried sick about it while waiting on job offers and its killing me).

I got to take Pixie, and she got checked out too and I havent heard anything, so that's good! I've been sick and trying to figure everything out, and was just not able to write like ive been wanting to. I had to leave behind one person i really didn't want to, who unfortunately is stuck with my family, and its also been eating at me.

I'm alive, just stressed and sick and trying to heal from abuse and the shock of not being yelled at for being sick and scared and making mistakes.

Again, Im so sorry you guys. I should have tried to update at all, I've just had so much going on and so much sickness. I am so grateful to have you guys at all, and the sweet messages you sent me made me smile when I finally logged in and read them.

I can't guarantee an everyday post like I usually used to do, but I'm going to try and at least be back more than I have been! I love you beans. I'm so sorry for the radio silence. Everything came to a fever pitch and has been nonstop trying to get settled in since I finally got away, which was the end of August. Before that, I was sick, unable to stand up without passing out, and barely eating because the abuse was so bad that staying in my room and starving was better than any interaction. I wont go into too much detail but the abuse was another large part I didn't want to post. Just bed rotting and hoping time would speed up to get me out of there.

Anyway, this was a terrible ramble, I'll hush, but thank you all so much for your messages, and im happy to be back! Even if just a bit at a time for now until im more settled in <3

Much love!

-Mommabean

[wizardnuke]

fucks SAKE the app updated to say that im not covered by insurance so. yeah i need to find time in my schedule to drive an hour to get drug tested. i hate it here

tomorrow i have to be a big kid and call my doctor to ask why my meds aren't being refilled. if it's because i need to take a drug test im going out back to get shot because that means a week or two without meds and it's gettin close to crunch time for school

[x-x-nyctophilia-writes-x-x]

This is a hastily made vent fic

Simon Riley x Reader

(Gender neutral reader, reader does not have gendered pronouns, but does mention having a period)

Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of hospitalization and surgery, mentions of strained familial relationships, mentions of periods

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke slightly startled by the sound of the front door to your apartment opening. Quickly checking your phone you noted the time; 4:37 pm. Simon was finally home from another deployment. You moved to meet him in the living room, but before you could even make it out of bed he was already standing in the bedroom doorway, looking at you with a hint of anxiety in his eyes.

You stared back for a couple moments before offering a weak smile and a quiet welcome home. He let out a sigh like he'd been holding his breath and said “There you are, love. I'd been trying to get ahold of you on my way over here, but you didn't answer. Had me worried.” 

You checked your phone again and this time noticed that he had called and texted you, several times in the last hour. You turned back to him, “I'm so sorry, I was… taking a nap.” 

Simon continued watching you from the doorway, staring like he was analyzing you. You had the blinds closed and curtains drawn shut, leaving your room dim despite the sun still shining bright outside. Simon turned on the ceiling light to get a better look at you, and you flinched. He sighed again as he took you in, this time less relieved. Your hair was a mess, you had dark circles around your eyes, your lips were chapped, and you'd been asleep in your day clothes. He moved toward you and sat at the edge of your bed.

“Lovie, what happened,” he asked, placing the back of his hand against your forehead to check your temperature, “are you sick?”

“No, no! I'm fine! I'm just… Tired.” you said, adding under your breath, “haven't been sleeping well.” You were avoiding looking him in the eye. Simon gently grabbed your hand with one of his, and turned your face toward his with the other. 

“Tell me what happened.” 

It was firm, but not a demand. Suddenly you felt tears prickling at the corners of you eyes. You leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder, and his arms wrapped around you, instinctively, protectively, as you started to fall apart. 

“My dad… He's in the hospital! While you were gone he was diagnosed with cancer. He got rushed into surgery to remove the tumor. In a few weeks he starts chemotherapy. My mom and grandmother have been at each other's throats, arguing about what's best for him, who should take care of him during his recovery. Grandma's even been picking fights with the hospital staff! Even before all that, I got laid off! Something's gone wrong with my insurance, and I haven't had the time to sort it out, so I'm off my meds because now I can't afford them! My period started a week early last month, and I bled through my clothes, and this month it's a week late! I really haven't been sleeping well, my stomach is in knots, so I can hardly eat! And I missed you! I missed you so, so much!”

Simon just sat there with you, rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back while you let it all out. Once you had, he kissed your forehead and said a soft “I missed you too.”

Then he pulled away slightly to look you in the eye, concern evident on his face, but layered with what seemed like a little hurt. “Sweetheart,” he said more firmly again, “why didn't you tell me any of this was going on sooner? I know we didn't have a lot of chances to talk, but everytime I called you said everything was fine. Why'd you lie to me?”

You looked away, shame creeping its way into your chest while you found the words to answer him.

“I just… I didn't want you to worry. Your job is so dangerous, I didn't want you to be distracted by my problems while you were out there fighting.” 

“Your problems? Love, no matter where I am, or what I'm doing, your problems are my problems. I'm your partner, and I'm here for you, even when I'm not with you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a bit of a smirk before he said, “And I'm no amateur. I'm more than good enough to do my job and care about you at the same time.” 

You couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up out of you at his cocky attitude, and he smiled seeing the shell you'd crawled into start to crack a little.

You sighed as you gazed up at him. “I'm sorry, for not being honest with you,” you said. He pulled you into his chest again and kissed your temple. 

“It's alright, I know. And I'm sorry you've had to deal with so much by yourself.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, finally able to enjoy each other's company again after being separated for so long, until Simon began to lift you off of his lap and make his way toward the door again. 

“Where're you going?” 

“Getting my phone, gonna order that dumpling soup you like. While we're waiting for it we're gonna take a bath, and you're gonna tell me everything else I missed out on while I was away. Good, bad. Everything. Get out that scented bubble mixture.”

And with that, he disappeared into the living room, leaving you with a smile on your face as you made your way to the bathroom to run the bath and find the bubble soap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been going through... a lot lately, so I wrote this to cope. Cheers.

[textsfromthetva]

I would have made a post sooner, but I've been too distressed to even talk about this.

Mobius is sick. That's my cat, for the uninitiated. He started throwing up food Thursday night, like, a lot, so we went to the vet on Friday, who concluded he had a fever, but other than that and the nausea, there were no symptoms. So that's an infection, right? No telling where, but he got a shot of anty-nausea meds, a shot of antibiotics, and I got a box of catch-all antibiotics in pill form, and home we went.

Problem is, he kept getting worse. Cats do this thing where, when they feel a bit under the weather, they go 'guess I'll die 🤷‍♂️' and stop eating and drinking, like little drama queens. So you need to keep them from starving themselves to death until medication starts working. Friday night I had to start force feeding him, which in the case of cats means mixing wet food with water, forcing their jaw open, and using a syringe (without a needle, obvs) to squirt food into their mouth, holding their head back to force them to swallow. It's not fun for either party, and for 36 hours I did that every other hour, including throughout the night. But he continued to get worse. He was sluggish and dehydrated. I kept feeding him. No improvement. He was miserable, I was miserable, it was fucking horrible.

Sunday night we went to an emergency vet clinic, because I couldn't handle it any longer, I needed someone to have another look. She concluded that his fever had gone up, despite him being on antibiotics. This is obviously very troubling. She convinced me to pay for some blood work, just the basics, and he's insured, so whatever. I told her the Good Girl died two months ago, from FIP (feline infectious peritonitis). When she came back she looked very grim, and had brought scanning equipment. A ton of stuff was totally fine, but there was one thing, that was alarming. A number that should be over 8 in healthy cats, with 4-8 being troubling, and under 4 being 'that cat probably has FIP' was clocking in at a 3 for Mobius. But his red blood cells were fine and his organ markers were fine, so she did an ultra sound to look for fluids in his abdominal cavity, which is another sign of FIP. There was nothing. She's worried that it's just because we caught it super early.

But, we decided to proceed as if he's got a crazy infection, he got another injection of anti-nausea medication, new antibiotics, some fever-reduction pills, and an appetite stimulant that's a cream you rub on the inside of their ears, so it's absorbed through the skin.

He started perking up a lot. Still wasn't eating though. So this afternoon my mom stopped by with ten different kinds of wet food they had lying around (cat breeder behaviour), and we created a huge buffet on the kitchen floor. All my plates are in play. And eventually he started eating some shredded chicken in jelly. I don't know if you've ever cried from watching a cat eat, but I was fucking sobbing.

At this point, 12 hours later, I've had to refill the plate with that single fucking kind of wet food four times. He's almost halfway through a big can by now!

So I'm choosing to be delulu right now. I'm choosing to believe that those numbers were off because he hadn't eaten. Because he's completely back to normal now, behaviourally, and surely, surely he would not get better like this if he was fatally ill and about to die.

Anyway, if he does die I'm going to break. Just FYI.

[youkaiyume]

Hello, it's been a while since I did a rant. But WARNING for gross medical things:

SO it turns out my old nemesis the ovarian cysts have plagued me again. I found out about three weeks ago when a weird pain wouldn't leave my pelvis and went to urgent care and they suggested a CT scan. ONLY! for my insurance to deny me cuz they think I needed more probable cause for one so my doctor just recommended I go to the ER (which ironically is way more expensive for insurance to pay for than a simple CT scan but they did it to themselves lol).

Turns out I have cysts on BOTH of my ovaries FUN. But the left one is very concerningly big and probably needs to be removed but I can only do so by getting an approval of an OBGYN. So after finding one and waiting for my blood tests to come back so she can determine if she can surgically remove it--

YESTERDAY I had a SUDDEN AND SEVERE pain that hit me. I was at a solid 10 on that pain scale and vomiting and sweating so I drove myself to the ER again for the second time in two weeks. Frustratingly, the MALE doctor came back and was just like "well it looks like while we were doing your ultrasound you weren't consistently experiencing pain" which I was ready to bite his head off because let me tell you. While I was laying stretched out letting them do the ultrasound I was in the worst pain the ENTIRE time. And it was not a short ultrasound. It lasted over 20 mins and even after they asked me if I could survive sitting through the vaginal ultrasound after which would be another 25 mins. And those are painful just for the stick poking around in your yoohoo alone. I begged for pain relievers and when I described it they were like "oh that's labor level pains"

SO Mr. I don't have a Uterus doctor, DON'T TELL ME that your machine says I wasn't in pain. He even hit me with a "well I don't know what your pain tolerance is" as if to minimize or make me feel like I was overblowing what I was feeling. Like, fuck that guy. But because technically the imaging showed that the cysts haven't ruptured or caused my ovaries to twist it was considered "non emergent" and so the just gave me painkillers and then sent me home and reiterated that the only way I could get it removed at this point was to beg my OBGYN and convince her it was an emergency. In the meantime it was "oh you'll have to live with LABOR LIKE PAINS 24/7 until they let you have surgery." In the meantime they said I should only return to the ER after I've took all my pain meds and my pain doesn't improve OR if something worse happens. like a rupture.

WHICH btw are the exact same symptoms I have today so I was like how will I know cuz I can't imagine a worse pain than this one to which they were like "shrug"

I was in tears. Oh but it gets EVEN BETTER. Called my OBGYN this morning and she said my blood tests came back and that unfortunately they detected higher than usual levels of cancer markers in the cyst so that means she can't surgically remove them for me, she has to foist me to an Oncologist so THEY can remove it. She tries to say it doesn't necessarily MEAN cancer but hnnnnnggg that does not help with my anxiety at the moment.

Now calling the Oncologist to make an appointment today was a whole ordeal itself cuz their system kept going to voicemail so I had to call all the departments until they finally let me through but I had to run back to the hospital to try to get my Ultrasound discs for them. But even then they were like "your appointment isn't until next Wednesday" because THATS when the doctor meanders into work. So I'm like OH so like, in the meantime what if something happens??? And they're like well you gotta call back your OBGYN to see if you have other options. Which turns out she is also out. Until Tuesday. So I'm like. Guess I'll die then!

I don't even want kids!!! These ovaries have caused me nothing but trouble!!! Please rip them from my body!!

[scientia-rex]

Hello, I appreciate your medical posts very much and having seen a post the other day where you said migraine was in your areas of special interest, I'd love to ask a related question. You talk about bodies and medicine and patient experience etc in a way that makes a lot of sense to me and I'd trust your take.

I have chronic migraine. I'm currently at 100% pain days, with varying severity. Very hard to pin down what is prodrome, the main event, and postdrome as it's all blurred into one. My migraine team want me to reduce painkiller usage (currently dihydrocodeine and paracetamol daily, and ibuprofen maybe every other day on top) due to rebound headache. I want to cut down because they're fucking expensive and I'm scared for my liver and kidneys. But I literally can't cope with life without them. I went off them for four months a few years ago and the pain was so severe and so debilitating I was the most suicidal I've been in my life. Without painkillers I can't get to the toilet unaided, rarely leave bed, even more rare to leave the house. It's hell. And that's not even considering the effects on everyone around me who has to pick up to care for me.

So what do I do? The way I see things, I need something to help the pain improve before I can use less painkillers, but the longer I go on trying to find something that works and not getting there, the more I think maybe I'm wrong in that. I know a bit about how codeine based painkillers can reduce your pain tolerance / pain baseline. I don't think it's an addiction issue because I've been at the same (over the counter) dosages for 4 years now. I just want to do all that I can to be better, but I also need to be alive to be better. I am stuck.

TL;DR - If you have any thoughts on the relationship between chronic migraine, painkiller use, preserving quality of life while finding a treatment, and increasing the chances of a treatment working, and where on earth the balance between all that lies, I'd really like to hear them.

Again, I absolutely appreciate if you can't answer this, don't want to etc. Giving advice online is notoriously tricky and all that. But a big thank you for your time in reading, and all your weight and exercise posts especially which make me feel so much better about my body. Wishing you all good things! 💖

I won't speak to your case directly, since I'm not your doctor, but here is my personal algorithm for escalating treatments for migraine (note that "abortives" in this case means something you take after a migraine starts to try to end it, while "prophylactic" means a daily treatment you take to reduce likelihood of developing a migraine):

-OTC combination of magnesium, feverfew, and butterbur, taken daily

-Triptans (insurance will usually demand patients fail at least 3 to cover a more expensive treatment)

-High-dose NSAIDs (as abortive treatment given risk of rebound headaches if used daily)

-Daily topiramate (insurance will always demand this is either failed or there's a clear contraindication)

-Daily calcium channel blockers

-Daily beta blockers (higher dose than used for anxiety or low-grade arrhythmias)

-Daily anti-epileptic medications (such as Lamictal)

-Monthly anti-CGRP monoclonal antibody injections (Aimovig or Ajovy; expensive so insurance will demand you've failed some or all of the previous meds)

-Abortive anti-CGRP orals (Nurtec or Ubrelvy)

-Abortive ergotamine, usually Migranal, a nasal spray (very expensive and must be repeated 15 minutes after initial dose regardless of whether symptoms are improving or not)

-Prophylactic Botox (I believe this is every 3 months, must be done in the office of a trained and licensed professional, usually but not always a Neurology provider)

-Sphenopalatine ganglion blocks (done by dripping lidocaine far back into the sinuses to reach the sphenopalatine ganglion, again in the office of a trained and licensed professional)

-Cephaly (transcranial magnetic stimulation at-home device), expensive so insurance hates covering it

Now, one of my newer tools, and my current personal favorite, is a greater occipital nerve block--easy and fast, low risk, and I've had about 90% success with my patients in aborting current headaches. Effects seem to last 3-4 weeks in most cases and since it's straight lidocaine (you don't have to include steroids, though you can) you can do it as often as needed. I generally do this in my office, but I did train one patient's spouse to do it at home given how frequent their headaches. The pharmacy lost their fucking mind about letting an outpatient have lidocaine. I don't know why.

I currently manage my pretty awful chronic migraines with a combination of monthly Aimovig, as-needed Excedrin (the combination of caffeine, Tylenol aka paracetamol, and aspirin is effective for many people but is a real risk for causing medication overuse headaches, the more official term for bounce-back), as-needed Ubrelvy (I can sleep after taking Ubrelvy but not Excedrin so it's a good option), and roughly monthly greater occipital nerve blocks (I teach my trainees to do it using myself as a subject). I wouldn't mind trying the Botox but it's a PITA to get in to see our only local Neurology provider and since my migraines are relatively well-controlled (probably 1-2 headache days a week right now) I don't think it's worth the effort.

I also really got a lot out of this lecture, so give it a try.

[winterfergerart]

So I'm gonna make a personal kind of post here. TW for death in the family and my own post-covid symptoms.

Last year my grandfather died. He was the man who raised me, so he was more like a father than a grandfather. As he was getting close to death I was asking my family if there was going to be an inheritance which, I specifically said at the time, I need to know so that I can know what to do about my SSI disability and plan ahead.

People just said I'd get a 'tidy sum' or 'deferred comp' at best. No steady numbers. So without knowing what I'd be getting I had no way to prepare. I think they just thought I was being greedy and wanted to know selfishly. Not that I needed regular medical coverage.

He died without having said anything about being proud of me, but the family found a box of all my pictures growing up in his closet. Other people too, but mostly me, and I didn't know what to do with that because he never really said that he was proud of me or anything.

Because of that his death hit me really hard. Like, the entire span of his slow decline, from the year before to the day he died, I kind of withdrew from a bunch of my friends. Years ago someone put it in my head that wanting help when you're troubled is manipulative so I took it to heart. I pulled away from a bunch of people that made me happy because I didn't want to stress them out with my problems. I pulled back from my hobbies 'cause I didn't trust myself to engage anymore. I was hurting too much.

After he passed, other than a few people, I was all alone.

I received notification concerning my inheritance in December and I filled out the paperwork in early January, specifically requesting that I be given some time to prepare before receiving payments. They didn't listen. So I had to get off SSI, lost my insurance, had to loosely plan to buy some. It's not a lot of money, but it is too much to recieve public assistance.

But I thought, maybe I can do something that makes me less dependent on the government now. I can get married. Maybe I can go back to school. Maybe I can start a small jewelry and miniatures business. Maybe I can invest. Maybe I can start volunteering at domestic violence shelters.

Then two months ago, I caught Covid for the first time in 4 years.

The S.O.? Oh he was fine. It seemed like a bad cold. But me, first it was the fever, and then my lungs deteriorated for two weeks. Doctor round one? "It's a Covid cough, it's expected." Doctor round two? "Yeah, Covid cough can go on for a while. Here's sudafed and cough pills."

It took my blood oxygen to drop into dangerous levels (90%) for anyone to take me seriously. And despite that doctor trying so hard and giving me great meds, I just had a massive relapse and today I'm struggling to breathe again. I'm sitting here crying and coughing up chunks of god knows what. All this being paid out of pocket, because I don't have insurance and no one listened to me. About the inheritance, about the deferred comp, about the insurance, about how badly my lungs were doing post-Covid.

I had been exercising every single day for two years. I was actually starting to lose weight. I was so proud of myself. Now that's all been set back. I was gonna get married. But SSI is holding me in this sort of limbo where I'm not covered but I'm also not free.

I miss my support system. I've loosely tried to reach out but I've not been very good at it because I always sucked at social anyway. I'm sorry that I threw it away while it felt like I could only radiate badness and loss. If any of you are still out there I miss you and I'm sorry I abandoned you. I thought I was doing us both favors and we'd be better off without each other. So I'm throwing it out there that either I'd love to hear from you again, if you're still watching this account, or please just know I'm sorry I let you down.

PS. I don't want money. I just want to see a bright spot again when every time I get ahead I get knocked back.

[juvia-is-beast]

Hey Y'all I rarely post stuff of my own but I'm in need of help. I've always had a hard time asking for help but I've become desperate. I just moved out of my toxic Indian household at 27 with no savings because my mom would take all of my SSI checks and huge chunks of my paycheck that I worked for. I'm having a lot of health issues and chronic pain flare ups. I work at a college but I've been put in an administrative role until I can get my health in order. I don't have as many hours but now I can actually see doctors. My family was preventing me from getting help, from seeing doctors or getting my meds on time. I have PTSD and I can't drive because of it. I need financial help. I've been approved for SNAP but I'm waiting on my EBT card. I'll be going to a food bank tomorrow to get some food but that still leaves me with no funds to buy medical marijuana. I've been experiencing nerve pain the last 2 months and hormonal migraines for a straight month. I live in FL and it's super heavily taxed and I'm having trouble getting my muscle relaxers re-prescribed because I need a specialist to prescribe them for my insurance to keep paying for them. I have no other proper pain management rn. Please help me. I know the global climate is at its worst right now and I feel guilty making this post with everything going on in Palestine but that doesn't change the fact that I NEED HELP.

If you can help in any way please, even suggestions on what to do better with e-begging would be greatly appreciated.

My Cash@pp: $ButtPirate27

I can also tutor you online in Algebra if you need a math tutor I can help with Pre-Calc and Trig too but I'm far too rusty on Calculus to tutor but I would gladly tutor for any financial help.

If you want more info on my situation I don't mind sharing. I've been on Tumblr for 11 years and barely ever posted about my own life. I know that there are definitely people here willing to help but there have also been a fair share of scammers so I understand the hesitation. Here's my cat Ares, something cute to look at. I want to get him a cat tree too and a bin to make a housed litter box for him.

[crypt-tids]

I've been having a pretty difficult time with my diagnosis. Just a lot of basically mourning the loss of the easy life I had always hoped to have and realizing that there are just going to be so many things that I wanted to do and just won't be physically able to do,

and I've basically had several meltdowns about it, a pretty bad one last night that woke my bf up and he had to calm me down, and another bad one later in the afternoon (which ended up triggering some stomach pain ofc 😮‍💨) that he had to calm me down again. And I mostly just feel terrible and utterly useless now because I'm so reliant on other people for support and always will be for the rest of my life, which includes him, and I just said "I wish you didn't have to deal with this" and he just says "I wish you didn't have to deal with this. If I could take it all away from you and put it on myself, I would." And I just feel horrible because I'm going to need him so much just to manage simple tasks and he just says "that's why I'm working so hard to get a better job, so we'll have good insurance and I can take care of you."

And it was the sweetest and most genuinely devastating thing I have ever heard because he deserves a life so much simpler than this one.

I'm just very tired and I feel so bad about how much my disability has already effected people around me and how there is no "better" for me and that I will always be that annoying burden in the room like "we need to leave soon, my back pain is making me too nauseous to stand anymore" or "I can't wash the dishes right now because my pain meds weren't strong enough"

Even simple things that I used to do all the time, like bowling, has recently become so horribly difficult that even with pain meds to get through it, I feel horribly sick and sweaty halfway through because my whole body is fighting against me.

[constelationprize]

The Kayleigh Day Lives AU - Part 3

Also known as Congratulations, Wymack, it's a boy! He is also already 20 years old and horribly traumatised

So I think that after the banquet Kayleigh goes to some ERC after party to schmooze a bit, maybe with the explicit intention of undermining the rumor of Kevin being better than Riko. Like "do you think I'd let anyone hold MY son back? *Nervous laugh*"

Smash cut to the match between Riko and Kevin

Kayleigh is halfway back to the hotel when she gets Kevin's call. He's immediately locked himself in a bathroom while Jean helps distract Riko.

Now she knows this is BAD bad for a couple reasons. For one, hands have very delicate bones, and full recoveries from severe blunt trauma injuries are hard and rare. Second, there's the fact that this confirms her suspicions that Kevin was being mistreated from behind her back. Third, she knows they won't let her take him to a hospital right now. And last, but not least, it's going to be very hard to get away with double homicide once she gets her hands on Tetsuji and Riko.

Kayleigh has to make a snap judgment if she wants to help her son, in a way that won't put either of them in more danger. She can't trust Tetsuji anymore, so she goes over him.

Now, I don't think she would have access directly to Kengo, but during her years as a Moriyama asset she has amassed enough goodwill she has a few contacts in the main branch. People who are worried about Tetsuji overeaching with his little project.

She calls them and very carefully chooses her words. She says that Riko has dealt Kevin a potential carreer-ending injury and that the best way to control that narrative is going to be playing it off as an accident and taking Kevin out of the public eye for a while, transfering him out of Edgar Allan so people focus on that drama instead of questioning the origin of his injury. She doesn't necessarily threaten going public with what she knows if they don't allow her to take him safely out of the Nest, because she isn't stupid, but it IS implied.

Kayleigh gets half an hour to take Kevin out of the hotel before she herself has to report back. Wherever he's going, she can't come with, as insurance.

That... Somewhat hinders her options.

But, well. David Wymack is in town.

Kevin has found the letter in this universe too, because Tetsuji would have it regardless, but he took Kayleigh at her word when she explained it was for the best that Wymack not know.

This is not a can of worms Kayleigh ever intended to open. But there is a saying about desperate times and desperate measures.

Which is how she ends up picking up Kevin, badly bandaging his hand, and going after the Palmetto State Foxes.

She catches up with them right as they are piling onto the bus to leave. She almost his the bus with her car. It's a mess.

It gets worse once she and Kevin get out, though.

Wymack is alarmed and confused and oh my God Kayleigh what the fuck is your badly injured son doing here.

And she says something to the likes of "First of all, that's OUR badly injured son"

There is a lot of screaming. Dan thinks she's having a stroke. Wymack is torn between confusion and rage. Kevin is going into shock, like, the medical condition. Abby is trying to weave her way to him because someone has to give that boy some actual first aid. Kayleigh's time is running out and she doesn't have time to stand here in this parking lot and justify every questionable decision she has made in the last thirty years. Tetsuji just found out about everything and starts blowing up her phone.

Andrew is crashing from his meds cycle and sleeps through the whole thing.

There is literally no time to untangle any of this, so Kayleigh just tells Wymack that Kevin will explain everything after they take him to the hospital. Preferably in South Carolina because the farther they are from Riko, the better.

No one is happy with this turn of events. It's for certain, though, that things will get a lot worse before it gets better.

On another note, Aaron just won himself like 200 dollars, and it might just be enough to ask that cute cheerleader in his class on a nice date.

[sanguinifex]

I think we need to talk more about getting on meds for mental illness and stop just relying on stopgap coping mechanisms.

Untreated anxiety or OCD? Can fucking kill you.

Untreated depression? Can fucking kill you.

Untreated bipolar? Can fucking kill you.

Untreated schizophrenia? Can fucking kill you.

There are medications available for all of these things. For the first 3, there are lots of treatment options. Treating schizophrenia is often a bit harder, but even most people who don't respond super well see some improvement, and the FDA just approved a new treatment for people with schizophrenia who don't respond well to conventional antipsychotics.

It is literally a million times easier to exist when you're on the right medication. You just...exist. And do stuff. And before you know it's been months and you haven't wanted to die at all.

A lot of people are scared of medication because they think it will make them gain weight. A lot of meds don't actually do that, or have only very little weight gain. Wellbutrin, an atypical antidepressant, can sometimes make you lose weight. Buspirone, a maintenance medication for anxiety disorders, isn't associated with weight gain. Lithium, a treatment for bipolar mania, isn't associated with weight gain. Second-generation antipsychotics, used for bipolar mania and schizophrenia, are associated with weight gain, but any of the first like 3 you'd be prescribed aren't going to make you gain more than like 20 pounds.

And so what if you do gain weight? You might need new clothes, and it sucks to have to replace all your pants. Healthwise, you're better off 20 pounds heavier on medication than you are with an untreated mental illness. If you're anorexic, the anorexia will be less bad if you're not depressed or OCD anymore.

Some people are worried about being involuntarily committed. Health systems generally avoid doing that anymore. Unless you're actively in crisis, they won't. Even if you go in involuntarily, their goal is to stabilize you and get you out of there as soon as possible because that's what makes sense for their revenue cycle. Insurance/medicaid only pays so long. I went in for a manic episode and was out in 10 days, and the last like 4 were because they needed to get my lithium level stable. Also, the hospital food was actually good.

Seriously. Just ask your doctor or go to urgent care and ask about medication. It will be so much calmer in your head, and you'll be able to do things you never thought you could do. I'm in graduate school now. I'm getting good grades. I still get doubts about myself but they pass. I'm going to do things with my life. And it comes down to four medications to treat four mental illnesses that I thought would send me to an early grave.

Be the person you can be. Take the damn meds.

[weezly14]

so i'm not going to respond to any individual asks - this is the blanket response to all the asks i've gotten in the past few weeks asking me when i'm going to update my WIPs, if i've abandoned them, etc. i appreciate the love, i do. i miss dust to dust, and something good and right and real, and i wanna be your boyfriend, too.

i might regret being this honest later, but fuck it, it's my blog and not enough people talk about this shit.

i'm struggling with infertility. emphasis on the struggle. i'm weepy from fertility meds, in the midst of my first treatment cycle, half hope and half fear. we're "unexplained infertility," so there's no reason why it shouldn't work, except it hasn't so far, so hope feels like a dangerous thing.

for anyone who hasn't experienced this, it's a complete and total mindfuck. i don't feel like the same person i was a year ago, before all those negative pregnancy tests. i thought i'd have a baby by now, or at least be pregnant. instead, i have a shitty not even diagnosis, and Options that are both a blessing but also invasive, and expensive, and in no way a guarantee. every month i calculate when the due date would be; think about the events we have planned for next year in terms of where i could be in a pregnancy; and every month, my period arrives right on schedule, if not a day early. i have yet to see a positive pregnancy test. it's "only" been a year, and i'm "so young," but it feels like it's been ages and like i'm running out of time.

we've been forced to have conversations about money, about how far we want to go with treatment, about when we might call it. "it's too early to think about that," you might say, but one cycle of ivf could cost $16k. we have good insurance, but are we willing to undergo more than one egg retrieval? how many failed transfers before we decide the emotional toll is too high? it's better to have those conversations now, before we have to, when we can maybe make clearer decisions. would we consider donor eggs or sperm? surrogacy? what about adoption?

meanwhile, i'm watching friends and acquaintances get pregnant with no problem, as i try not to completely isolate myself and try to track ovulation, as though timing might be the problem.

(it's not.)

i'm not the person i was before all of this, and it sucks. i'm a sadder, smaller person, i think. i'm trying my best. i'm "practicing hope" or some shit, i'm doing my best to keep my head up and stop isolating, stop avoiding my pregnant best friend, stop wallowing in the grief. because it is grief. if i get pregnant, it will be because of fertility meds and doctors, it will happen in a sterile exam room, hopefully with my husband holding my hand, if he can get the time off work. there will be no spontaneous pregnancy, no surprise. there's grief in that, in letting go of what i thought this might be like, how i thought it might go.

so yes, writing fic has fallen by the wayside. not because i want it to. i just have a hard time finding the energy to do even fun things. i miss the person who could write a lot in short spans of time, who had the energy for fic. i'd like to believe i can still be that person again. i don't consider any of those fics abandoned. i've written, i've worked on things.

but, right now, it feels like my entire life, my entire being, is consumed with this struggle to get pregnant. like my life is measured by where i am in my cycle. i look at my calendar and think, that's when i'll get my period or a positive test, so i should be mindful in what i plan. i might be very happy, or i might have a very bad day.

sometimes, the bad days feel eternal.

but i'm doing what i can. i'm trying, anyway. my therapist said i should practice hope, and i'm trying to. i'm trying to let myself believe things might work out. even though the fucking meds have made me weepy as hell, i'm trying to stay positive, and envision that this cycle could work. that on christmas day, instead of my period, i'll get a positive pregnancy test.

(because going home for christmas isn't loaded enough.)

there's an old wives tale that if you wrap a baby blanket and put it under the tree, you'll have a baby by next christmas. i'm jewish, but we're an interfaith household, so we bought a baby blanket, and we're going to wrap it in hanukkah paper, and put it under the tree. we have a hope basket in the nursery - because when we moved into this house we set aside a bedroom to be the nursery, and it's empty except for that little basket of baby things we've collected over the months, in the hopes that one day we'll have a baby to dress in the little onesies or socks. we have a running list of names. this is our version of practicing hope.

this is only our first treatment cycle. things could work. or maybe the next cycle. and then, there's always ivf. some days, i feel like it'll work for us, and we will have a baby, one way or another. other days, i wonder if i shouldn't just spare myself the pain and call it now. it's exhausting, infertility.

so, to everyone who misses my writing, and wonders when i'll update again - i don't know. i miss my writing, too. i miss being the person who wasn't so consumed by fertility shit, who could indulge in hobbies. i'd like to believe i can get back to that. but not this week.

the holidays are joyous but they're also really fucking hard, so let me be your friendly reminder not to ask people when they're having kids, or why they aren't pregnant yet, and to not tell people struggling with infertility to "just adopt" or "just relax."

happy holidays.