#Chronic Condition Care

[silverbirdhomecareservicesllc]

In today’s fast-paced world, individuals often seek reliable healthcare solutions to ensure their well-being. It’s crucial for those who live there to establish the ideal support network. While nursing home in Elkins Park, Pennsylvania, offer comprehensive care, personalized assistance extends beyond institutional settings. Here’s where the idea of in-home care is useful.

[astracora]

The Cat Curse - MC Edition

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Heavy hurt|Some comfort, Semi-canon compliant heart condition, Spoilers for current story release (Small mentions of Sylus bond up to 102 and all of Sylus' currently released content).

Word Count: 4170

Written: 23rd December 2024

Notes: New relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs (this time with group chat), with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me.

Now Playing: Monster, by STARSET

Masterlist

Next ->

You've been responding to his messages, Sylus notes, but something's off. He's been away on some inane business trip, ever since you, the doctor, the fish, the prince and he had visited a new kitty cafe opening. He rarely gets to see you visibly excited, you are worse at showing your feelings on your face than he is. Whenever you're faced with animals, of any kind, even Mephisto, your eyes sparkle and you could easily spend hours upon hours sat with them. Even more so if they let you pet them.

The first time you'd seen the evol kitties, according to the doctor, you'd been unsure. They didn't look like cats. Something off and a little wrong, but they mewed at you and straight away you'd gently stroked their noses. As if unable to hold back.

Since then you would drag any of them along to play kitty cards. You didn't like the game, had no patience for strategy, but you did like petting the cats. Sitting there between every round, barely looking at the board, and tickling small whiskers. Much to the fish's distress.

While Sylus doesn't really care if he wins or loses around you, he's almost assured a win when playing with you because it's simply not something you care about. Distracted and unbothered by the game. He's only relieved that when he sprouted ears and a tail (of the caracal kind), you had been just as enamoured with those. Finally smothering him in affection in the same way, and being distracted by his tail. Though he'd never confess to competing with cats, at this point it's just an everyday occurrence.

He found he enjoyed playing most with the doctor, unlike when the man played with you, he took no soft approach with Sylus, and it was fun to butt heads with him. Stubborn as they both could be. That left you to lean your head on the fish's lap, the prince asleep against your side already, and play with cats, to a backdrop of 'You're cheating', 'I'm simply better at this than you.', 'If you would stop getting distracted-' that you mostly blocked out.

Rounds later, he paid the bill before anyone else got chance to, and picked up some cakes to take back.

Then he'd had his business trip to attend, having moved things around so on your rare day off, you could see everyone. It was never fun to drop you off, Sylus missed you anytime he could not see you, and though he was prideful, he had been honest about not being able to sleep without the sound of your voice. A confession you'd flushed at and tugged at one of the straps of your prosthetic.

He'd watched you waver over how to respond, biting at your lip, and fidgeting, as you fought against your urge to run away from him.

Trying didn't come easy, you'd told him. Honesty and openness, it got even harder when you'd lost your family, it got easier with every day you were given room to breathe by all of them, and every friend you held dear to your 'broken' heart. He didn't want to dig, or poke at old wounds, not now you were trying to live... but he often saw too much of himself in you.

Whether it was because of the way you'd grown up, or his soul inside of you, it made him even more careful and aware of offering you what you offered him.

"I'll miss you too, Sy. Call me, alright?" Your finally settled on, cool metal hand taking his in yours and squeezing. Before he'd left you, reluctant and complaining, he'd pressed kisses over your face, down your neck, and finally pushed you to the wall of your apartment building, to steal all the air from your lungs. Thigh holding you up, as he tangled his hands in your hair.

When he'd tried to pull away, he couldn't quite, leaning back in once, twice, three times, chasing the warmth of your mouth. Over and over.

You'd laughed, pushing him back to breathe, gasping, "It's a week. We'll be fine for a week."

A week... you aren't possessive enough, he thinks, spinning his pen in his hand. Half listening to Luke and Kieran talk. He feels as though he's emptied and lost, missing parts of what makes him who he is, and your messages feel... the same.

He could be reading into it... you're not exactly one to put your heart on your sleeve, or cling. You're independent because you've had to be, and he still hasn't had enough time to get you to lean all of your weight on him.

So he sends a message into the group chat without you, made in order to plan surprises or outings.

🐦‍⬛: Is everything ok back home?

⛄️: Aren't you busy?

🐦‍⬛: I'm taking a break.

They don't have to know he's tuning out his business partners, hoping they'll talk themselves out so he can leave.

🐠: lucky, some of us have r busy

🐠: [Attached photo]

🐦‍⬛: Please tell me that's not paint on my walnut table.

🐠: won't answer u then

⭐️: looks more colourful now

He rubs the space between his eyes, already dreading returning to the mess, and regretting letting the fish use his space for storing work while his studio is being fumigated. The partners at the table tense at his action, but he doesn't bother sparing them a glance, so they relax and resume talking.

🐦‍⬛: Is anyone going to answer my question?

⛄️: Is there a reason you're asking?

He hesitates, it's just a feeling, if he worries everyone, and it's nothing...

No, he didn't get this far by not trusting his instincts.

🐦‍⬛: Kitten's messages have felt off.

Two exclamation reactions are his instant response, the fish and prince. They start to type, then stop, then start again.

🐠: what way?

⭐️: have U called them?

⛄️: Calm down, they took some time off work because of a cold.

🐠: y didn't anyone tell us?

⛄️: I thought they would have asked Tara to contact you, or contacted you themselves?

🐦‍⬛:  They didn't.

⭐️: ive been on mission for a couple of days, i can stop in tomorrow when its over

He puts his phone down too forcefully and looks at the room. He's... irritated. Not like he normally is when it comes to you, a childish way where he can't have enough as he likes from you. Like you're a toy he cannot stop playing with. He's almost angry, but mostly sad.

He's been patient, surely you can at least talk to him if you feel sick?

Sylus is done with this trip, he's bored of listening to people talk nonsense, and he has no need for anything they have to offer. "We're done here, Luke. Kieran."

Waving his hand absently and ignoring protests behind him, he leaves the room, phone in hand.

🐦‍⬛: I'm coming back now.

-------------

Jenna had sent you home, it's not the first time she has. You're terrified one day she'll get bored of having to keep track of your health. Or you'll really let her down, and get you... or more importantly someone else, hurt.

It's probably not a normal mindset to worry so much about what your boss thinks, or to fear disappointing them like they're your parent.

It's not like you have parents to know what's that like... but gran's disappointment every time you got into fights growing up... well it was enough.

Caleb used to cover for you, within reason. He lectured you, told you to pull yourself up and figure it out. That fighting every battle against every jerk you met, reckless and stupid, would get you killed. "Come on pipsqueak, use that energy for something better. Something worthwhile."

So many reasons you didn't want to or couldn't, you wanted to tell him... a hand clenched over your chest.

You were so tired of disappointing them both though, so tired of seeing worn eyes tending to cuts and bruises. Bandaging your back, or fixing the set of your arm.

Being a hunter was that answer. If you used what little life you had in you, unsure when your busted up heart would give out finally, then you could greet Caleb and Gran with pride. Your life was a tool, to make others better.

So every day you weren't working, felt like a day you were failing them... failing to be worth anything other than the core in your chest. A vessel with no purpose or value but to hold something you hated. That could kill you.

It wasn't like you could work like this though... you'd laughed at your partners when they'd sprouted ears and tails. Especially Raffy, he'd been so disgruntled at the fate that had befallen him. This was... probably karma. Pointed, soft ears on top of your head, pinned back against your skull. Pristine white, so they at least blended into your hair.

At your back, a bristled tail, huge and furry... already having picked up some dirt to sully what had been pure white.

It hadn't settled since it had appeared, and you wondered what that said about you...

Fucked up mess. Stupid fool. Useless.

Too loud, everything was too loud. You could hear your neighbours through the walls, all the cars below your apartment, every child crying, dog barking, cat mewling.

It hurts.

You covered your ears with your hand, but noise filtered in through the new set you'd acquired.

Hurts.

You'd grown accustomed to the state of your heart. If you don't pay attention you can miss something, and you care now... perhaps you always did, just too raw like an open wound to let yourself.

It's racing and panicked. You don't need your hunter's watch to know it's too fast. 

Burying yourself into your bed, you cover your head with the duvet, grab at your headphones to shove them into your ears, turning them as loud as they can go, and bury your head under the pillows.

Your phone buzzes at your side, and you don't want to touch it. Scared to leave the cocoon you've built for yourself.

You'd begged Tara to tell Zayne you were sick with a cold, that you would be fine soon. She'd given you a heartbroken look that had made you bristle further, pity. Always pity.

You didn't want pity.

Before your fraying emotions could get the best of you, you'd fled the hunters association, hood up over your head and run home.

You can feel your tail trembling, struggling to swish under the blanket as you struggle to calm down, to at least get some sleep.

Maybe if you sleep it will go away.

Maybe when you wake up you'll feel better.

Useful.

Worth having around.

Not on the cusp of disappearing with nothing to show for yourself.

-----

When you'd woken up, tail still bristled, and newly acquired fangs digging into your bottom lip. Blood staining the bedsheet, you'd finally fished your phone out from your nest.

3am.

The world was quieter for it, and you wondered if this was part of why Sylus preferred the night to day.

You didn't remove your headphones, but you did finally open up your messaging app, seeing messages from everyone.

TaraTara💖: I hope you're ok bestie, if you need anything let me know.

Number One Lumiere Fan: Tara said you were sick, if you have time, I have a few shows you could watch to waste time. Only one is about Lumiere! Promise!

Simone (the one whose guns explode): Hey! Tara said you weren't doing so hot, if you want some company for a movie night, I make the best soup you'll ever have!

Captain: Remember to actually get some rest, take advantage of the break, alright? Everything will be fine here.

🐠cute fishie 🐠: hey cutie, wat do u think?

🐠cute fishie🐠: [Attached Image]

⭐️little star⭐️: missions going well, how are U?

⛄️sweet snowman⛄️: Tara said you're sick, I'll come over to check on you as soon as I can. Make sure you eat and drink.

🐦‍⬛pretty bird🐦‍⬛: Meetings are always more boring without you kitten, I hope you're missing me as much.

Your tail settles, curling against your side, fur flattening and you try really hard not to cry. You wish you'd thanked Tara when you left instead of fleeing, overstimulated and hurting.

Wounded like the cat you're teasingly referred to as. Feral and ready to hiss and scratch. You've spent so many years shutting people out.

Shutting Gran and Caleb out.

Shutting them out you wasted so much time until it was too late.

Why can't you learn?

You force yourself to respond, trying to sound as much yourself as you can... it's unnerving, to wear a mask over a mask. You wonder if you'll ever recognise your reflection.

You hesitate as you go to respond to your partners. You should tell them, reaching up to roughly pull the ears on your head. They'd understand, they've been where you are. Your brain says you should go to the kitty cafe, find out how to fix it this time around... but being out there, in the noise...

Instead you send some version of you're fine, and things are fine, everything is good. You're good.

You're together. You're useful. You're not a burden.

You aren't fragile and sick and useless.

You are worth keeping around, even when your heart picks up speed again, beating so hard against your chest that you fear the core wants to escape its fleshy vessel.

The straps attaching your prosthetic are digging into your skin, rubbing it raw, but you ache to even try to remove it. Fighting with the buckles and biting at the bit. You're still in your uniform, and you're sure by now you need a shower. The idea of water shooting a shot of anxiety straight into your chest, flaring up your tail, and your ears flatten as far as they can.

No water...

Maybe later.

Or you can really fill out how shit you feel with a wet wipe bath.

Caleb would kill you.

You don't want to think about it anymore. You want to let the quiet take over, or reasonably so with the screamo in your ears. Blasting the noise outside into nothing.

So you go back to sleep. Easing the pain in your heart with the only sure fire way.

---------

You can't breathe. You can't breathe.

Bolt upright in bed, hissing through your teeth, chest so tight you can feel your ribs.

You flounder, pulling at where your straps should be, but they're gone, no leather under your fingers. So you move to claw at your chest with one hand, gasping.

Hands grab you, and you struggle and you fight and you hiss. Fangs out, feral and ready to claw your way free. Arms far stronger than you pull you against a warm chest, tilt your head back and pills are placed in your mouth. You try to spit them out but a hand is on your throat, rubbing at your larynx. You swallow and then water follows it.

You splutter and cough, and you wriggle and struggle. Your head is pressed against skin, and you sink your fangs in.

Out. Out. Out.

"It's alright, you're alright, I'm here."

Blood fills your mouth and his scent surrounds you and you shiver. Blinking as your heart medication begins to do its job, easing the fractured organ in your chest. You spit, trying to clear your mouth of the taste of metal, shivering and shaking but your chest isn't constricting you now.

"Sy-" You cry outloud, he holds you, not bothered by the blood tricking down his shoulder. Of course he isn't, he heals it, the pain nothing in comparison to watching you choke on air you can't breathe. "Sorry. Sorry." You mumble against his skin, licking where you bit, crying and shaking. Wrapping your arm around his neck.

He assures you, and he rocks you both in his arms, rubbing your back and running a hand through your hair. Careful around your ears, not going far enough down to touch your bristled tail.

He hums and he rocks, and he squeezes you tight enough to ground you.

It's an hour or two later when you can finally feel any semblance of stable. You can't bring yourself to look at Sylus, he's stroking your cheek and wiping tears from your face, and all you can do is stare at the bed. You can't think of what to say.

You didn't take your medication, you hurt him... it's not the first time, but when this happened with Caleb you didn't have a cats' fangs.

Between you opening up and me prying, I prefer the former. He'd told you, after a terrible day, listing every way he would support you.

With all your sharp edge, you place your hand over his on your cheek, "I'm sorry, Sy."

He huffs, turning you in his arms so you're facing each other, but his one hand grips your hip, sturdy. Solid, strong. He doesn't hurt, but escaping would be hard. You try hard not to.

Though you can feel the... your tail swishing.

He looks at it, at your ears, then at you, red nosed and disheveled.

"Explain."

It's a command, brooking little argument, and though normally you'd refuse to take orders, you duck your head now. Avoiding molten eyes and seeking out something to focus on. The hand that was on your head, stretches out in between you both, palm up, and you take it quickly. Toying with his fingers, squeezing it in your own. Finding connection in your hand on his.

"Jenna sent me home, my evol doesn't work, I can't fight. I... it hurt. Everything's so loud."

You can't see it as he frowns, as your ears prick, then settle, seeking out all the things that hurt them. "I went to sleep, thought it would make this go away, but it didn't."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You hear it then, the pain, like he's biting down on glass. Your eyes dart up and his eyes are glassy, warm red gone dull. "You left your prosthetic on. It was rubbing your skin raw at the angle you were sleeping. There was blood on your sheets." He presses his forehead to yours and breathes you in, "Then this. Why didn't you tell me?" His voice cracks, and you want to be sick.

You twine your fingers with his and choke on the words, "I didn't want to be a bother."

He hisses, his grip on your hand almost hurts, but you probably deserve so much worse. You lied to him, to them, and you hurt him. More than just biting at him.

"You need to tell me. No matter what. No matter what I'm doing, beloved. No matter the issue." He kisses your forehead, over and over and over again. "Promise me."

You nod, and curl your pinky around his, just like you used to with Caleb when he made you promise to come to him with an injury. The words are too stuck in your throat, your voice too sore to use, but you nod. Desperately.

"You're not a burden to be carried, kitten. Ever. Do you understand?"

You don't. You want to, but it's hard. There is no part of you that feels easy or fun, but you do love him. So much. More than you thought yourself capable of. More than you wanted, on borrowed time.

"I'll try." You promise, and it feels like you've cycled back around to the start. Promising to figure things out at home, promising to aim for something. A future you're not sure you're going to ever see.

He takes it in earnest, you do not go back on your word. You are loyal and once you trust, you trust with your heart and your soul. It is yourself you do not trust.

Instead he eases you back into his lap and stands, you flinch and release his hand to grab his neck with your hand. "You need to be cleaned up, I'll help." You go to tell him no because it's water, and you're more a cat than even he teases you for, but you have your head in his neck at this angle, and his scent is so strong. Your tail flattens and begins to flick, lazy and soothed. You hear him chuckle, vibrating through his chest and through yours. "I'm not going anywhere."

-----------

Sylus eases you through steps. He's seen you injured, he's seen you with phantom pains, and he's watched you battle nightmares. Wanderers with swords through your chest, your heart stopping, an explosion you can't stop. He knows what you look like when wounded, he also knows that you fear his reaction when you are.

It takes time to heal wounds, he knows that intimately. You'd never shed your rage or anger, not really. When someone has made mention of gods you'd scoffed, when someone has talked about EVER and their many plans to help humanity, you'd snarled. You trust no king, no god, no corporation to fix the world or the people in it. He knows you're always scared but you keep walking forwards anyway, and he admires and loves you for it.

He just wishes you'd take his hand when that happens.

He has not felt fear like seeing your heart failing you in his arms before, and no matter the violence of your struggle, he would let you rip him to pieces to survive.

He has so much time, and his greatest fear is losing you too soon.

He cleans, and he dries, brushing hair and rubbing lotion to ease the burns on your skin. He helps you dress, finding clothes that don't irritate your tail, because at least he is intimately familiar with that, and then he sits you down on the couch with vegetable soup. Not handmade, though he'd rather have done so. He doesn't want to leave you alone, so he orders what he needs. Sending the twins running around. He's sure you'd like to see them, but he's worried their exuberance will agitate the overstimulation you're combatting.

Watching your ears flick this way and that, picking up too much. As though you don't already struggle with the world's input.

He almost feeds you, wanting to heal you with his own hands, like he's anything like the doctor... he's not. His skills are in bloodshed, and he is as sharp edged as you are.

Except you have made yourself a weapon, to be worth the pain, and he was made a weapon, to survive the pain.

He does not move far away, however, kneeling at your feet, and massaging your calves while you eat. You try to pull your legs away, but he keeps them held, and continues his movements. You have soothed his body before, stitched his wounds, kissed where his scars would be, and he will not have you lacking his own love and affection.

A dragon does not love lightly. Though you don't remember the depths he has gone to for you. This is an easy act of devotion.

"You need to tell them too." He finally speaks, as you clear your bowl. He's relieved to see your ears are no longer flat, your tail is not bristled, you are as relaxed as you can be. You nod, guilt written in your face, and he retrieves your phone for you on black and red mist.

Sitting at your side, he grabs your brush and begins to brush your tail. You almost leap into the air, startled and dropping your phone onto the couch cushions. "Sy!"

"Cat fur can get tangled, especially long fur." He smirks, pulling you closer, and brushing through it with long fingers, "So let me take care of it."

You flinch at the contact, stare at where his hand is in the new found attachment, then keeping your eyes trained on your phone, you nod.

He's content to let you write out what you need to, to be honest with the others, he doesn't want to have that job. It's your mission to step out of your self made cage. So he brushes quietly, the twitching tail in his hands restless, but soon as soft as you can be in your relaxed moments.

Your head hits his shoulder, ears twitching in sleep as all the pent up energy and stress escapes you. Held in long white furs in a small brush. You mutter in your sleep, words he can't understand, and whistle through your nose, little noises that make him laugh.

The best, however, is the purring in the back of your throat, broken up by sleep, and the tail that has found its way around his wrist.

He does not move you, but he retrieves a blanket and holds you against him, cheek pressed to the top of your head, against your fur ears, and keeps watch while you finally find some peace.

⛄️: Are they alright?

🐦‍⬛: They will be.

[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

“do you have weird unique special interests or are you just plane autistic?” (haha I think I’m funny)

…anyways drink your water!! <3

[liminalweirdo]

Poll: Health and gender re medical malpractice

if you feel comfortable please share your choice as well as whether you have ever experienced medical malpractice

not to be that person but please consider reblogging this, my tumblr don't have a ton of traffic and i'm genuinely interested in the results.

[pyjamacryptid]

me surrounded by all of my medical paperwork that disability services deems “not enough evidence” to claim support, after applying for the 5th time:

[twobrokenwyngs]

the amount of stress in my body could kill a racehorse

[shiraishi--kanade]

Without getting into much detail... Holy shit, spinal fusion. You know how we can't measure pain reliably and you probably can't confidently say "this is the most painful thing that can happen to a human being"? Well, spinal fusion is definitely Up There, regardless of the scale you're using.

[my-gender-is-void]

Hello chronic conditions side of Tumblr.

I've been experiencing many symptoms for a very long while (technically all my life but obviously I didn't start paying attention until I was like 12-13) and I don't want to self diagnose but I do know it might be a key part of getting a formal diagnosis, I'm going to list the main symptoms and tell you what I through my research and various legit symptom checkers have concluded I might have.

I am hyper mobile, the orthopaedic told me that when I was like 5 but I never got a formal diagnosis because my parents didn't think it was relevant, however to this day my hip does something weird sometimes when I walk and then hurts afterwards and I have to overstretch it so it stops hurting as much, all of my articulations pop, I've had chronic low back pain since I was like 9 and back pain in general since I was 11, my injuries have a thought time scarring and they scar badly, my hands and feet are generally cold and peripheral blood circulation is kind of a mess, my skin is sensitive and reactive and I get cuts on the less damaging things ever, I have a propensity for bruising and they take a long time to reabsorbe, my pinky and ring finger get numb and tingly when I hold certain stuff (carpal tunnel is on the other 3 fingers I checked), my legs go numb often, sometimes my muscles just feel weak and I'm scared to pick up stuff in case they stop responding. I have a propensity for all kinds of headaches, my gums are also sensitive, I tend to be constipated no matter how much fiber I eat (and yes even if I eat lactose being lactose intolerant I'm still constipated, I just bloat), I have a heat intolerance (I even get rashes if it's too hot out).

I forgot but my ribs feel like they shift when I lay on my side and a couple of times I've had people horrified at something a joint of mine could do (generally my shoulder) and I quite frankly think I almost popped my shoulder out in one of those.

I'm also hypotensive and have a propensity to tachycardia and dizzy spells (or that thing where your vision gets black around the edges) when I stand up and when I do exercise (it doesn't happen when I walk, no matter how fast I do it) and when I exercise I have to stop even if my body doesn't feel tired because I feel like my heart rate is too high but I get cold sweat and shaky hands like it happens when I'm going to pass out. Which I might add I get those symptoms even just sitting sometimes and I have to lay down on the floor or sit with my head between my knees.

I live in a constant state of fatigue no matter how happy I feel, how well I eat or how much I sleep, which I also struggle with sleeping. And the brain fog makes it hard to concentrate.

That fatigue includes my body feeling heavy for no reason at all and being like a zombie all day struggling to even do stuff I want or hang out with friends most days.

The research I first did was regarding the whole hypotension, tachycardia, sport/rest/standing up dizziness fainting thing and honestly every conclusion lead me to POTS as the most likely condition.

That sent me into a rabbit hole of trying to find where the other symptoms where coming from, my search on hypermobility lead me to EDS, particularly H-EDS and honestly I must say a lot of things would make sense but I don't want to self diagnose so what do you guys who suffer any of this conditions have to say? Should I see a professional and just ramble all if my symptoms and see if that gets me somewhere?, or do I have enough of a valid basis to go to a doctor and tell them I suspect I might be suffering from POTS and maybe H-EDS?

Keep in mind I'm from Spain and I can tell you most if not all of the primary care doctors I've gone to have shrugged off all of my symptoms once they checked my heart worked properly in general, they don't even care that I have passed out from low blood pressure during blood draws and have even had convulsions twice after fainting, that and my sensitivity to anesthetics, fuckers just said "you're probably just tired because you're a high school/college/master's degree student", I've gone a fair amount of times since I was 16 and they never check it's always a "maybe it's your period", "maybe you're anemic" (I'm not, my reserves are a bit low but not enough to be considered a deficiency to treat), my blood tests come back well so they couldn't care less, my body weight sits in it's normal range (thankfully, because otherwise I know a good chunk of them would just point to my weight and my period).

Thing is, because I keep overworking myself due to my family situation and I was gifted and I guess that kind of transferred a bit to college, I've finished a degree and I'm on my way to my 3rd master's degree this academic year, and honestly I probably don't complain about the level of pain and tiredness I'm in enough because a) my mother would try to instantly blame it on weight or Physical activity or even just food itself (she's one of those everything you eat is bad, white carbs are the devil incarnate types of person) and I already had an ed for years due to her

b)when I complain about the fatigue my mother tries to one up me and everyone else just advices me to do more sports, spend time with family (no thanks), blame my sleep pattern even though the fatigue is purely physical, tell me I'm over exaggerating or over complaining and that I used to handle pain better as a child (she yelled at me when I complained and told me I couldn't be that tired because I was too young)

I'm going to tell you some more things about me as a child I just now remember my mother complained about: every school day I came complaining that the soles of my feet hurt and my palms too (particularly the right one since I'm right handed) and they'd turn out to be distended. My skin was even more reactive, I was so tired and borderline translucent even when they made me spend all summers at the beach that they took me to the cardiologist several times to check if I had a heart condition and It was working just fine, I experienced headaches almost daily, my immune system was an absolute disgrace, I refused to grip the pencil (scissors and other tools) right because it hurt my fingers, I was always coming home with bruises and injuries that were too extreme for what they would've been for my brother and to reiterate I started complaining about back ache at around 9 years old and of fatigue at 11, and even then me being seemingly constantly tired granted me a couple visits to a doctor to check for leukemia or heart conditions.

I need opinions and people to tell me if there are other conditions I should be researching or if I should just go ahead with the ones I have.

[i-amusemyself]

whhhyyyy must my long covid flare again!?! i do not have TIME for this 🙃🙃🙃

like for real if you arent avoiding covid try imagining all the things you wanna do today and pick one (1). every day. indefinitely. thats your life if you get this wretched condition put on a fucking mask for your own sake i beg you.

[ghostbusterscantcatchme]

me: i hate having to have medical appointments, it’s too expensive

my parents: oh we can pay for your appointments so you can focus on studying :)

me: *tells my parents about appointment and price two months in advance, adds it to family calendar (with the price there)*

my parents; what do you mean you have an appointment tomorrow, we can’t help pay for it, was it in the calendar?

[abitboldshop]

https://abitbold.etsy.com/dk-en/listing/1811805842/spoonie-life-embrace-the-spoon-theory

Spoonie Life — Embrace the Spoon Theory with Humor — Perfect Mug for Anyone Managing Chronic Illness or Fatigue

For all the spoonies out there, this mug is a fun way to show your understanding of the spoon theory. Perfect for those managing chronic illness or fatigue. Dishwasher and microwave safe. Makes a great gift for friends and family who get it.

• Ceramic • 11 oz (325 ml) mug dimensions: 3.8″ (9.6 cm) in height, 3.2″ (8.2 cm) in diameter • 15 oz (443 ml) mug dimensions: 4.7″ (11.9 cm) in height, 3.3″ (8.5 cm) in diameter • 20 oz (568 ml) mug dimensions: 4.3″ (10.9 cm) in height, 3.7″ (9.3 cm) in diameter • Dishwasher and microwave safe • Design printed on both sides of the mug • Coffee, tea, or other beverage not included • Free worldwide shipping

[thisboydreamsoflife]

Trans boys with PCOS and/endometriosis, you are the strongest soldiers of them all, never let anyone tell you otherwise

[manuelnunezmd]

How Regular Blood Pressure Monitoring Can Save Your Life

Take control of your health! Learn why tracking your blood pressure regularly is crucial for managing chronic conditions. 🩺📈 #HealthTips #WellnessJourney

Did you know that tracking your blood pressure can be a lifesaver? Dive in to discover why this simple habit is a game-changer for your health! Blog Post: Chronic Condition Management: The Importance of Tracking Your Blood Pressure Introduction Managing chronic conditions effectively is crucial for maintaining overall health and wellness. One of the key aspects of chronic condition management…

[elytrafemme]

the unintended byproduct of having the finch app where the cute bird helps you do self care is that after you open the app she will send you little notifications throughout the day being like hiiii my day is great how are you doing which is great i guess generally but right now i'm like. back in the throes of cptsd issues and also crying over a doctor's appointment so i don't really care how your day is going lychee. and then i feel guilty because lychee the bird has only ever loved me but like i don't. care. right now.

[dizzy1ife]

I saw hypermobility is commonly comorbid with fibro and pots.

I've always been told I'm flexible even though I've done nothing to contribute to that.

Several doctors have said things such as, "well flexibility certainly isn't an issue for you, you're almost hypermobile."

I looked up the diagnostic criteria.

I fulfill the diagnostic criteria.

I asked my PT about hypermobility and showed her what was multiple of the criteria.

She said she noticed that I was abnormally flexible.

I overhear her asking one of the PT assistants if she knew how to diagnose it.

They didn't know either.

A quick Google search will tell you the specific diagnostic criteria, which I fulfill.

I have yet to be diagnosed or assessed for hypermobility.

[sadgirlautumn]

I’m currently very upset about the American healthcare system. Like I hope they know that they are making people actively sicker 🫶