#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.

[nemaeldercare12]

Chronic Condition Care

Chronic Condition Care: Understanding and Managing Chronic Health Conditions in Elderly Patients

As people age, the likelihood of developing chronic health conditions increases. Chronic health conditions persist over many years or even for the rest of an individual’s life. Examples of chronic health conditions include diabetes, hypertension, arthritis, heart disease, and many others. These conditions often require ongoing care and management, which can be incredibly challenging for elderly patients who may also be dealing with other age-related health issues.

In this blog post, we will explore the importance of chronic condition care in eldercare, the challenges faced by elderly patients, and the strategies that can be used to help manage and improve chronic health conditions.

Understanding Chronic Conditions

Chronic conditions are long-term health problems that cannot be cured but can often be managed with appropriate care and treatment. These conditions can impact different body parts, such as the heart, lungs, kidneys, or joints, and can cause various symptoms, including pain, fatigue, difficulty breathing, or mobility limitations. Chronic conditions can also affect mental health, leading to depression, anxiety, or cognitive impairment.

Many chronic conditions are more common in older adults due to age-related changes in the body’s function and structure and lifestyle factors such as diet, exercise, and smoking. Some common chronic conditions that affect the elderly include:

Diabetes: a condition where the body cannot regulate blood sugar levels properly, leading to high blood sugar and related complications such as nerve damage, kidney disease, and vision loss.

Hypertension: a condition where blood pressure is consistently high, putting strain on the heart and blood vessels and increasing the risk of heart disease, stroke, and kidney disease.

Arthritis: a group of conditions that cause inflammation and damage to joints, leading to pain, stiffness, and reduced mobility.

Heart disease: a group of conditions that affect the heart and blood vessels, including coronary artery disease, heart failure, and arrhythmias, which can cause chest pain, shortness of breath, and other symptoms.

Challenges of Chronic Condition Care in Elderly Patients

Managing chronic conditions in elderly patients can be challenging for several reasons:

Elderly patients often have multiple chronic conditions simultaneously, complicating treatment and increasing the risk of adverse reactions or drug interactions.

Elderly patients may have other age-related health issues that require attention, such as hearing loss, vision problems, or cognitive impairment, making it challenging to manage chronic conditions effectively.

Elderly patients may have limited mobility or transportation options, making accessing healthcare services or following treatment plans harder.

Another challenge of chronic condition care in elderly patients is medication adherence. Many chronic conditions require medications to manage symptoms or slow disease progression, but elderly patients may forget to take their medication or have difficulty managing complex medication schedules. In addition, some elderly patients may have trouble affording medications or accessing pharmacy services.

Strategies for Managing Chronic Conditions in Elderly Patients

Even though the challenges of chronic condition care in elderly patients, several strategies can help improve outcomes and quality of life. These strategies include:

Comprehensive care: Elderly patients with chronic conditions often require care from multiple healthcare providers, including primary care physicians, specialists, and allied health professionals such as physiotherapists, dietitians, or social workers. Coordinated care involving all providers can help ensure the patient receives appropriate care and treatment and reduce the risk of complications or adverse events.

Patient education: Educating elderly patients and their caregivers about their chronic conditions can help improve self-management skills and increase medication adherence. Patients should be provided clear and concise information about their conditions, treatment options, and potential side effects. Educational materials should be tailored to the patient’s literacy level and preferred learning style and provided in various formats, such as written materials, videos, or interactive workshops.

Medication management: Medication adherence is crucial for managing chronic conditions in elderly patients. Healthcare providers should work with patients and caregivers to develop medication management strategies that are easy to follow and tailored to the patient’s needs. This may include simplifying medication regimens, using pill organizers or reminder apps, or involving caregivers in medication administration.

Lifestyle modifications: Lifestyle modifications such as diet and exercise can help manage and prevent many chronic conditions in elderly patients. Healthcare providers should work with patients and caregivers to develop realistic and achievable goals for physical activity and healthy eating, considering any mobility or dietary restrictions.

Regular monitoring: Regular monitoring of chronic conditions is essential to detect symptoms or disease progression changes and adjust treatment plans accordingly. Elderly patients with chronic conditions should have regular check-ups with their healthcare providers, including blood tests, imaging studies, or other diagnostic tests as needed.

Social support: Chronic conditions can isolate and impact mental health, especially in elderly patients. Healthcare providers should work with patients and caregivers to identify social support resources, such as support groups or community programs, that can help improve quality of life and reduce social isolation.

Conclusion

NEMA Eldercare recognizes the importance of chronic condition care in elderly patients and is committed to providing comprehensive care to help manage chronic conditions effectively. By implementing patient education, medication management, lifestyle modifications, regular monitoring, and social support, NEMA Eldercare strives to improve the overall health and well-being of elderly patients with chronic conditions. With a personalized approach to care, NEMA Eldercare aims to address each patient’s unique needs and challenges, ensuring that they receive the best possible care for their chronic conditions. For more information feel free to contact us.

[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.

[ink-asunder]

The absolute separation and dissonance american people have from the concept of illness is insane to me. American culture (I know it's not the only one) is so hung up on preserving youth, health, ability status, privilege, etc to the degree that they moralize uncontrollable (and sometimes harmless) biological occurrences to the point of actual delusion.

You can't have wrinkles, you can't have grey hair, you need to look 24, you need to fit in the prom dress you bought when you were 16. And the way this extends into healthism and ableism is detrimental to the collective conscious, I think. People act like you're a "bad person" if you get covid. They act like if you get sick, it's because you did something wrong. They say you should get into health and fitness not to make yourself happy or to have something to do, but to "prepare our bodies to age gracefully."

As someone who was chronically ill and disabled since childhood, I've always had a bit of a disconnect with this culture?? Like, having to LIVE with a facial difference for 15 years before "cosmetic reparation" was an option for me taught me that the way you look and how healthy you are really has nothing to do with you at all. But the main reason people aren't "unlearning" these issues is that americans refuse to accept that they coexist with disease at all.

Cancer treatment only happens in movies or to people you don't talk to anymore. Covid isn't real. Covid is over. Everyone with lung cancer got it because they smoked and they knew the risks. If you're on a chemo drug, you must have cancer. If you have cancer or a spinal condition, you MUST be dying. If you're in a wheelchair, you can walk if you really wanted to. Don't be visibly sick or disabled around me; it makes me uncomfortable. Don't talk about your health; it reminds me of my own mortality. Deny, dissociate, don't think about it.

When the reality is that new illnesses and outbreaks happen all the time. "Chemo" drug units and dialysis centers actually encompass a range of drugs and disease treatments. Some people have to get a year's supply of iron infused into their blood once a year. Does that scare you? If you've had cancer, you have cancer forever. You're in REMISSION because the root cause of the problem is still in your body. You're cancer free now, but maintenance diagnostics will be a permanent part of your life.

But we can't talk about that. Because the concept of BEING ill is so deeply dysphoric for the generally healthy, abled public. Getting sick is TRAUMATIZING to the point where if you can fully recover, you tend to not dig deep into your feelings about the situation ever again. And you're doing it to yourself, but it's also kind of being done to you by everyone. Honestly, just normalizing illness and coping with our close proximity to it would do wonders for society.

[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.

[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

[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:

[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.

[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 🫶

[lacefuneral]

thing that sucks about fibromyalgia is that it really only started to be taken seriously by doctors the last couple of years so there isn't much information about what treatments are effective and what aren't

so a lot of people lean into like. pseudo science bc they think it will fix their pain

which is frustrating because it's like. i want to know what is actually helping people. not some anti-vax person covering themselves in arnica montana (which is a poison at best and absolutely nothing at worse, which is the case of homeopathy) and guzzling laxatives (i shouldn't have to explain why is this an issue)

the scary thing too is seeing ppl on reddit say "no yeah my doctor just mixes me a special lotion with opiods and ketamine and gabapentin" or people saying they're taking all of these medications orally. ARE YOU INSANE.

other people are like "ya my routine is simple!" and then lists no less than 10 very expensive supplements

like. okay. i do take some supplements. i am intending on trying another. but like..... can we get some actual medical professionals running trials on fibro that don't rely on extremely addictive drugs? y'know, during a fucking opioid crisis. and stop having doctors shrug at their patients and say "idk maybe go for a swim? get stabbed with needles?"

[literalbirdperson]

So I'm going to tell the story of my yesterday, which started with an appointment with an ENT and ended with me in the ER. I'm doing this in bullet points, because I am very tired. (Also incredibly angry, but that might be adding to the tiredness.)

1:00 PM. Check in at the new doctor's. The facility is clean and bright, and all the staff are really friendly! That's always nice.

Meet the ENT I was referred to. I like him immediately. He's got a really relaxed, informal manner, but also very clearly knows his stuff.

Talk about surgical history, since I've had several nose and sinus procedures.

Since one of the reasons I am there for ear pain and recurring sinus issues, he starts the exam. Ears look great, he says! The pain is probably referred pain from my mouth. Do I grind my teeth? Yeah, I used to, but I might be again due to The Maladies.

He checks the back of my throat. "Oh, you have tonsil stones?"

"I... I do?"

Then he pulls out the horrible snake camera, and I resign myself to discomfort while he tours my nose and sinuses. I watch the screen and make very attractive "man was not meant to feel something pressing against a sinus wall" noises while he digs around.

Investigation over, he gives me a tour! Everything is about what I expected, he shows me old surgery sites, and then scrubs the footage forward a bit and goes "but here's where your problem is."

See, the other problem is, I keep spitting out these awful discs of dried mucus. And they stink!

Well. It turns out that I have a chronic infection in my adenoids. And what I keep spitting out is from there. I'll spare you the details.

Gross! But treatment should be pretty simple if it's staph, which it usually is. A couple of rounds of antibiotics usually knocks it out. If not, we'll culture it and go from there.

"So my throat has been infected for over two years?"

"Maybe even a lot longer than that!"

So we have a game plan. His assistant checks me out, hands me some papers and says "here's your record and a paper copy of your prescription, but we faxed it to your pharmacy as well."

2:00PM. The pharmacy app isn't showing them working on the RX.

3:00PM. I call them to see what's going on, get into a verbal fight with the phone tree, am finally allowed to leave a message. I am polite!

3:15PM. Pharmacist calls back. "We don't have an RX for that medication for you." Cool. I'll check with the Dr and have him re-fax. Oh! I have a paper copy of the-- there is no RX in my discharge papers, either. Fine. Calling.

3:30PM. There's nothing to re-fax, either, as the prescription was never even entered into my medical records! They are so sorry about the oversight, this is being flagged as high priority and his assistant will call you to let you know when it's been faxed to the pharmacy.

5:00PM. Why did I think something was going to go right for me medically? Why? Why me? Exhausted chronically ill/disabled breakdown incoming.

5:13PM. Text from pharmacy. They're working on the RX. It will be ready by noon tomorrow. Do you need it sooner? [YES]

5:15PM. Your prescription is ready.

5:30PM. Emotional collapse staved off for another day. Go to get RXs, with plans to stop to get ramen with spouse across the street from the pharmacy and enjoy the week being over.

5:45PM. Pharmacy tech tells me to go to the consult window if I want to talk about the antibiotic. Since it's completely new, I head over.

5:55PM. Pharmacist storms over, very clearly annoyed, and at me, not in general. Makes direct eye contact with me and starts reading me, word for word, the information on the bottle like I am a small child who can't read. I just wanted to know if there were any worrisome side effects.

Tell her to "have a good night!" She scoffs, literally holds up her hand in a "shut the fuck up" gesture and storms off.

Me and my spouse: "Huh. That was weird."

6:00PM. Take first dose of antibiotics with dinner to help keep stomach upset to a minimum.

7:00PM. Hives break out on my forehead. Then my thigh. Then my arms. Then suddenly my skin is bright red, bumpy, and burning literally everywhere.

That's not good. So I start looking up Bactrim side effects, since the pharmacist didn't deign to tell me. Discover I am having an allergic reaction, but only need to go the ER if my lips and face begin to swell, my vision gets blurry, or I have heart palpitations.

8:00PM. Lips are tingly. Look in mirror. I am lobster red and my face is swollen, as are my lips! I take two benedryl and both my inhalers, and we start looking for which ER to go to.

While we're looking, throat starts to swell. Swallowing is becoming impossible. Closest ER it is, even though I fucking hate it there. But it's a mile away and I want to be where the adrenaline and intubation kits are in case this keeps getting worse.

I am going to regret that decision.

Am forced to go through security and submit to a bag check before I can enter the ER itself. While actively struggling to breathe, which is distressing to both me and the guard.

Receptionist asks what I am there for. "I'm having an allergic response to an antibiotic. I can't breathe well."

She hands me a ten-page thick clipboard and tells me to fill it out, and then she'll get me in the queue.

What queue? There are TWO OTHER PEOPLE HERE. (See, everyone hates this hospital.)

So I start struggling to fill out the paperwork, but I am now to the blurred vision, mental confusion state. I keep having to pause to gasp for breath, and my penmanship is fucked because my hands are shaky from either albuterol or fear.

Spouse walks the paperwork back over to the receptionist.

We spend another 15 minutes sitting there while I am gasping for breath and grabbing at my throat every time I try to swallow because it feels like I'm being STRANGLED.

Nurse comes out to bring me back. We get intercepted by an angry man who has been watching me slowly dying but is still pissed because he got there first.

Nurse takes the time to explain to him what triage is while spouse literally holds me up.

I get a bed. Nurse tells me I'm having a classic allergic reaction and I'll probably be right as rain after some steroids. Hooks me up to all the monitors, tells me the doctor will be right in.

Doctor comes in. Listens to my lungs. Tells me my throat is not swollen even though she tried to grab to hold me upright when trying to swallow made me look like a gagging cat. But, my lungs are clear! Tells me they're going to monitor me to make sure I don't get worse, but she doesn't see anything to worry about.

LADY MY SKIN IS AS RED AS A VAMPIRE'S FAVORITE PAINT SWATCH FOR THEIR BEDROOM REMODEL.

She leaves. another nurse with the bedside manner of someone who enjoys kicking puppies walks in and starts taking my blood pressure.

The alarms go off.

"He put the cuff on wrong," he mutters, then wraps it so hard it hurts and runs it again.

The alarms go off.

"Do you have high blood pressure?" Mildly. NOT LIKE THIS.

"I'm going to go get the doctor." He leaves. He does not turn off the shrieking blood pressure machine.

10 minutes later: it's still screaming. Nobody has come by.

20 minutes later: see above.

30 minutes later: see above, except this time I start my stopwatch.

1 minute later: I get up and turn the fucking thing off, then unhook myself from everything.

40 minutes later: I am now itching so badly that I am scratching my arms bloody.

45 minutes after that, Puppykicker comes back in. "You ready to go home?"

Me, unnaturally red with hives so intricate that there are probably braille words on me, no longer struggling for breath, but 100% more bloody than I was when he walked out of the room an hour and 40 minutes ago: "Actually I'd like to speak with the doctor. I'd like to discuss steroids, since I am itchy."

"I'll go get her." Sure, Jan.

5 minutes later: Puppykicker comes in with a glass of water and a tiny cup of MASSIVE prednisone pills. "Here's 50mg prednisone. She says you're ready to be discharged."

The doctor. Is giving me. 50mg prednisone. Without speaking to me to see if I am allergic to it. When I came in with a severe allergic medication reaction. And is going to discharge me rather than wait around to see if I'll be ok.

Nurse watches me choke and struggle to take the pills. Because we're also giving an oral steroid to the bitch who can't swallow. Puppykicker does NOT care.

At that point, risking it and calling an ambulance if my throat closed up again was more worth it than staying there. Went home, stayed up long enough to confirm I am not going to start gasping for breath again. Passed out for two hours, got woken up by all 3 cats fighting over who gets to be in my lap. I have been taking two benedryl every 4h for the itching/hives and while my skin is its normal color again, everything itches so bad.

So my ENT is going to get a fun surprise on Monday when I inform him that the meds I had to fight to actually obtain have now left me with a hospital bill.

I also made an appt with my PCP, because this is the second medication since May that has done this to me. And they are not even remotely related to one another.

I guess what's 3 more days of living with a throat infection I've had for months, at a minimum?

[nautilusopus]

i think i just don't like kids now lol

[wolfeyedwitch]

This just in:

I have been officially diagnosed.

As being Full Of Shit.