#Control medico

[adribosch-fan]

Envejecimiento saludable: cómo llegar a los 100 años con buena salud y una memoria de 50

Hoy se conmemora el Día Internacional de las Personas Mayores, con el objetivo de valorar su participación en la sociedad y proteger sus derechos. Se suele asociar a la tercera edad con la enfermedad y la discapacidad, sin embargo, es posible envejecer de otra manera. Las recomendaciones de los expertos Mantenerse activo físicamente, equilibrar la dieta, enfrentar cambios como la jubilación y…

[corrupcionenpr]

Dermatólogo denuncia control de dosis de tratamientos por parte de los planes médicos

“Si hay algo que yo odio en esta vida es que un plan médico, por sus pantalones, le baje la dosis a un paciente a un tratamiento que yo le estoy dando”, expresó.

En un video que se ha vuelto viral en las redes sociales, el dermatólogo Abimael Rivera alega estar cansado de que muchas de las recetas de medicinas estén controladas por los planes médicos. “Si hay algo que yo odio en esta vida es que un plan médico, por sus pantalones, le baje la dosis a un paciente a un tratamiento que yo le estoy dando”, expresó.

En este caso, se trata del fármaco Accutane, que se utiliza para el tratamiento del acné. La dosis para este se calcula a base del peso del paciente, por lo que manipular la dosis e interrumpir el tiempo del medicamento no es aceptable.

Asimismo, para el presidente del Colegio de Médicos Cirujanos de Puerto Rico, el Dr. Carlos Díaz, son las aseguradoras las que tienen la salud en crisis con el aval del gobierno y aseguró que “hay que ponerle controles”.

[transmutationisms]

Hi there! 👋 so there's a lot of discourse surrounding the "mature brain" pop science (eg., the brain doesn't "mature" until 25 and therefore we should move the age of consent, bodily autonomy, etc.. to 26). I have found this being peddled by a lot of kids and young adults. Why, in your opinion, are people so quick to self-infantilize (I really don't want to use that word but I couldn't think of anything better) and to take their rights away? Like it's really weird, I would think they'd want more rights, not less.

you could ask the same question about lots of groups: psychiatrically pathologised people advocating for increased medico-legal control over their own lives, for example—but i think it comes down to a few things:

meaningful coalition-building is often hindered by factors like intra-group racism, transphobia, &c ("there should be more control over Those People, but not me, i'm one of the good ones")

discursive constructions that position children's safety/protection and autonomy/rights as mutually exclusive, such that demands for political liberation are interpreted instead as calls for the group in question to be exposed to total social and economic violence ("so you think kids should be left to fend for themselves on the streets?")

the general disenfranchisement and isolation of kids and teens, which also makes coalition-building extremely difficult

the immanently enforced gap between working scientists and the lay public, which allows certain scientific discourses promulgated by public-facing journalists, ted-talkers, &c to maintain political legitimacy regardless of the strength of any empirical evidence for or against them

and relatedly the problem of such discourses having been already formulated by human beings with certain ideological and theoretical commitments and class interests, such that an assertion like "people are basically brain-children who should have my will imposed upon them until the age of 25" gets a lot more legs than "brains probably change throughout a person's entire life and maturity in this sense is largely socially constructed"

[maslows-pyramid-scheme]

The household was fast asleep when the six men broke in. They sought out Sobia Batool Shah, 22, and one of them attacked her with a hatchet, chopping at her limbs in an effort to sever her legs. “He was relentless and must have hit me at least 15 times,” she says. “I screamed in pain and pleaded with him to stop, but he was like a man possessed,” she adds. “I even told him I will not seek a divorce.” Shah was attacked by men from her own family – including her father, Syed Mustafa Shah, her uncle and cousins – who broke into the house, in Naushahro Feroze, in Pakistan’s Sindh province, as “punishment” for refusing to withdraw her application to divorce her husband. ... “It’s all about power control,” says Dr Summaiya Syed Tariq, chief police surgeon in Sindh’s capital, Karachi. Syed Tariq, who also heads the Sindh police medico-legal department, has seen hundreds of women physically and mentally abused, raped, burned and murdered over the last 26 years. “We are nurturing abusers who are worse than animals,” she says. On an average day, the department receives reports of about six cases of sexual violence and 10 to 15 cases of domestic violence across the medico-legal centres at three public hospitals in Karachi. “In the case of sexual violence against minors, my assessment is that for every three cases that come to us, seven more go unreported. And I am not counting the dead bodies that we receive,” Syed Tariq adds. Gender inequality is a global problem, but Pakistan’s indicators reflect especially alarming rates of disparities and violence faced by women. According to this year’s World Economic Forum’s Global Gender Gap report, Pakistan is ranked second from bottom out of 146 countries, behind only Sudan. It ranked 164 out of 193 countries on the 2023-24 UN gender inequality index. Abdullah Lakhair, deputy superintendent of police in Naushahro Feroze, says the victim’s father admitted the attack, telling police his daughter had brought “dishonour” to the family by filing for divorce. She had asked the authorities for protection after her father threatened to kill her previously. “Earlier last month, the district judge had referred her to a women’s shelter, where she stayed for two weeks, but then decided to return to her mother. The incident happened soon after,” Lakhair says. Shah says her father had left her mother and siblings and cut all ties with them. “Had it not been for my maternal grandfather and my uncle, we would not have had a roof over our head all these years. How dare he talk about his honour being sullied by my divorce,” she says. Lakhair says Shah’s father is awaiting sentencing and could face up to 14 years in prison. The incident has sparked angry reactions from the public and civil society organisations in Pakistan. Anis Haroon, a women’s rights activist and former chair of the National Commission on the Status of Women, travelled from Karachi to visit Shah in hospital. She is sceptical about the case sparking any meaningful change. “Like so many harrowing incidents in the past, this will soon be forgotten,” she says. Pakistan has the laws but no “political will” to implement them, she adds. “The legislators think their work ends after laws are passed in assemblies. They fall short of putting efforts towards their implementation,” Haroon says. After the attack on Shah, her mother went to neighbours for help, thinking her unconscious daughter had lost so much blood she must have died. “After giving her immediate medical help, we sent her to Nawabshah, an hour and a half from here,” says Lakhair. “She had to be given 10 bags of blood, which the police arranged. She is in safe hands, for now.” Although her father is in prison awaiting sentencing, Shah has been provided with round-the-clock police protection in the hospital. “My father has been apprehended but his brother has been granted bail. I am very scared,” she says.

[almasenpena]

Tips pro Ana

¡Hola!

les saluda de nuevo, Lola!

Hoy día les traigo algunos tips (ana) que es pueden servir para comenzar a comer menos, recuerda que no puedes dejar de comer de un día para otro ya que puedes tener complicaciones y mas probabilidades de tener atracones y no queremos eso!

----------------------------꒰ঌ ૮ ོ .• ༝ •. ོ𑁬 ໒꒱-------------------------------

Trata de la mayoría de las veces, usar platos pequeños, así tendrás un poco mas de control sobre las cantidades que ingieres.

Nunca te sirvas dos veces la comida, solo come un plato y si no te llenas toma mucha agua.

No comas mas de dos veces al día, yo recomendaría que sea desayuno y comida, así te saltas la cena y no es tan sospechoso.

No comas nada después de las 10 de la noche.

Come en pequeños bocados y mastica bien.

Trata de no repetir excusas, es claro que si no queremos comer inventaremos cosas para no hacerlo como: Me duele el estomago, me duele una muela, me siento mal. Entre otras, trata de no repetirlas para no levantar sospechas o que te lleven al medico

----------------------------꒰ঌ ૮ ོ .• ༝ •. ོ𑁬 ໒꒱-------------------------------

y recuerda siempre, las princesas no comen, Ana y Mía son nuestras amigas.

Nos vemos… xoxo

[yurnu]

En un futuro en quimera au

Lugar oficina de correos del infierno, un enorme y viejo edificio que se salvó del incidente de Adam.

Charlie junto a Angel hacían fila para buscar su correo, los carteros se cansaron de poner su vida en peligro y muchos tuvieron que ir al medico por quemaduras, ahora tenian que ir hasta a la oficina para saber que cuentas pagar.

Charlie: desearía que Vaggie me acompañara pero alguien devia cuidar del hotel.

Angel: la última vez que ambas salieron tu sexy tío quemo la cocina por que tú papá trato de tomar fotos de Adam.

Charlie: si, desearía que papá dejara eso, aun no comprendo que lo tiene tan obsesionado.

Angel: no lo sabes? Son sus tetas, eso y que antes que fuera un kaiju también era su trasero, sabes cuantos clientes me pedian que usara el traje del jefe de los exorcistas.....fueron muchos.

Charlie: yo no quería saber eso.....no sientes que nos observan?

Angel: siempre soy observado (muy arrogante)

Angel y Charlie notaron que todos los trabajadores los veian enojados especialmente los que tenían vendas y parecian lastimados.

Charlie: creo que algunos son nuestros viejos carteros, no pensé que estuvieran tan enojados.

Angel: bueno el fuego sagrado parece ser más difícil de sanar que el normal, tambien nunca les dimos alguna disculpa ni compensación.

Charlie: oh si creo me olvide de eso. deveria hacer algo?

Angel: ya que estas aquí, podrías pedir perdón y darles un cheque.

La fila seguía avanzando hasta llegar a la ventanilla.

Charlie: hola soy Charlie Morningstar y vengo por mi correo.

Trabajar genérico imp (TGI): carnet de identificación.

Charlie se sorprendió por que nadie se lo a pedido antes. Mientras buscaba en su bolso noto que no lo tenía.

Charlie: disculpe no lo tengo.

TGI: lo necesito para validar que usted es Charlie Morningstar.

Angel: Validar que cosa, es obvio que ella es la princesa del infierno.

TGI: Señor solo trato de hacer mi trabajo correctamente y necesito la identificación.

Angel: Señor? Que acaso no sabes quien soy!

TGI: (suspiro) mire esta bien, por hoy lo dejo pasar...ya que quiero deshacerme de esa horrible cosa.

Angel/Charlie: que cosa?

el trabajador les pasa por la ventanilla 4 cartas y un saco enorme del cual desprendían diferentes perfumes. Luego toma una llave y sale de la oficina de ventanillas.

TGI: vengan conmigo.

Charlie y Angel siguen al trabajador dentro de la oficina de correos hasta llegar a una enorme y lujosa puerta roja, dorada, con diseño de serpientes.

TGI: Aquí llega el correo de su majestad, usualmente esta vacío.... hasta que llegaron estas cosas.

El trabajador abre la puerta mostrando varias estatuas muy detalladas y de un raro material, serian hermosas si es que no fueran estatuas de Adam y lucifer en varias poses, son muy realistas.

TGI: Llamare a una empresa externa para ayudarlos a trasladarlas, saldrá de su bolsillo.... solo quiero trabajar sin pensar que esto sigue aquí.

Angel: Jajajaja algunas poses no las puedo hacer ni yo.

Charlie: ........

Angel: es como el kamasutra pero didáctico.

Charlie: .......

Angel: Hey.... te encuentras bien?

Charlie: ......

Fuera la oficina de correos, las estatuas fueron llevadas por la empresa externa. Angel sostenía el saco y las cartas, Charlie seguía sin responder.

Angel: sabes algo Charlie, no nos disculpamos con los carteros.

Perdon si esto quedo raro, El idiota de lucifer puso la dirección del hotel en vez de su palacio para hacer su pedido, Charlie estará bien pero necesita terapia.

||🔱🪹 Chimera!Adam 🪹🔱||

— En el salón del hotel —

Charlie: Papá, tenemos que hablar —dice seria con las esculturas detrás de ella—

Lucifer: ¡Oh! ¡Mis estatuas! Pensé que les había dado la dirección correcta.

Charlie: ¡PAPÁ! ¡Está situación con respecto a Adam y tú obsesión se está saliendo de control! ¡Literalmente ordenaste estás cosas obsenas para cumplir tus fantasías! ¡Eres un hombre casado! ¡CON MI MAMÁ!

Lucifer: Tan casado no lo sé, tu madre nos abandono hace 7 años y ni siquiera se ha molestado en llamarnos. Así que técnicamente estamos divorciados y yo tengo tu custodia.

Charlie: ... ¿Cómo puedes decir tal cosa? ¡Es tu esposa!

Lucifer: Técnicamente ya no. Ahora, hija, si me disculpas, tengo un lugar especial para esas estatuas —chasqua los dedos y hace desaparecer las estatuas— ¡Adiós mi niña! —Abre un portal y se va—

Charlie: ... —Agarra una almohada, entierra su rostro en ella y grita—

Angel Dust: ... Saben... Me sorprende que el angelito posesivo no estuviera aquí para destruir las estatuas y para perseguir a Lucifer para matarlo

Husk: Está ayudando a Adam con su muda de plumas.

Angel Dust: a

[possession-swapbody]

Tal vez alguna historia desde la perspectiva del poseido sería genial. Me ha encantado tu última historia por cierto. Aunque estoy pensando en algo como, abuelo o tio posee a su sobrino o nieto para poder fumar, despues de que su medico se lo prohibió. O tal vez desde la perspectiva del poseido

Collar: una nueva oportunidad para el tío Víctor

Samuel POV

No se que es lo que planea mi tío en cuanto a querer robar mi vida, pero esto tiene que parar.

Todo comenzó hoy en la mañana cuando el tío Víctor vino de visita, a mi me gustaba ya que siempre que venia nos pasábamos un buen rato, digo después de todo solo nosotros 2 vivimos en esta ciudad, yo quería estudiar y mi carrera no estaba en mi pueblo natal, pero el tío Vic se ofreció a dejarme vivir con él ya que donde el vive si había esa carrera, yo acepte pero al cabo de 2 años decidí independizarme de mi tío, después de todo quería mi propio espacio y un poco de privacidad, pero igual nos seguíamos frecuentando y siempre era muy divertido, pese a que el tenía 39 y yo 22, el era como un joven, lleno de energía, entrenaba su cuerpo y con ánimos de salir a divertirse, por lo menos eso era hasta que hace 6 meses tuvo una enfermedad que atacó sus vías respiratorias y daño sus pulmones y ya no podría fumar o realizar actividades que lo agiten mucho, aunque el era un fumador bastante adicto al cigarro, veía que estaba logrando resistir, pero en varias ocasiones estuvo a nada de romper las indicaciones del doctor.

Hace una semana decidió ir con su amigo Juan, el decia que su amigo era un bebedor incontrolable y ahora solo tomaba en ocasiones muy especiales, pero luego de eso no lo había visto hasta hoy, que me regalo un collar en la mañana, luego hace tres horas llego a mi casa y me dijo que necesitaba mi cuerpo, solo para fumar un poco, no entendía a lo que se refería, pero luego me explico que el collar nos permitía poseer a alguien y que al entrar a otro cuerpo teníamos que estar desnudos, yo me negué ya que por mucho que apreciara a mi tío, creía que se había vuelto loco, pero me insistió en hacerlo, le propuse que mejor yo lo poseyera para evitar el cigarro pero solo le vi un poco pensativo y luego me respondió con un gran no.

Por un momento pensé que mentía, pero, al verlo tan seguro pensé en una idea de ayudarlo, le engañarla para que se desnude fingiendo aceptar y yo entraría en el, era simple ponerle el collar y entrar a toda velocidad, y así se estaba haciendo, me desnude, lo vi quitarse la camisa, luego el pantalón y antes de que se volvería ya completamente desnudo corrí a ponerle el collar, pero atrapó mis manos antes de que el collar pasara por sus ojos y me lo quito, por la impresión de que mi plan no salio me descuide y caí al piso y me aturdí un poco la caída, el quedándose con el collar, me dijo:

Victor: Sam, en verdad creíste que no me daría cuenta, logré ver tu reflejo en la tele, desde que te acercaba con el collar en la mano.

Samuel: tío, es que pensé en que podía ayudarte sin que entres en mi.

Victor: pero tu en mi si verdad, bueno veamos que te parece que ahora sea a fuerzas la toma de tu cuerpo y no una opción.

No me dio tiempo de hacer nada cuando ya tenia el collar en mi cuello y de pronto sentí una mano en mi espalda, comencé a perder el sentido del tacto y mi visión se esfumado, trataba de luchar pero no servía de nada, solo estaba desapareciendo hasta que mi visión regreso, y todos mis sentidos pero yo no tenía control de nada, estaba muy agitado, sudado y caliente, en eso mi vista voltea a mi entrepierna y podía ver como había semen por todo mi abdomen, en eso comenze a hablar pero no era yo quien decía lo que salía de mi boca.

Victor: Este cuerpo es una maravilla, no me había echo una paja así en años, y ahora tengo esto para divertirme por casi 8 meses, es una pena que Samuel se perderá 8 meses de su vida pero no pasa nada, cuando despierte le pondré al corriente de lo que hice con su cuerpo, o por lo menos de lo que deba saber jeje.

Quería decirle que se fuera de mi cuerpo pero mis palabras no podían ser escuchadas por el era como si yo no existiera y quizá así era, solo era un pasajero en mi cuerpo y mi tío estaba al mando.

Vic: Juan tenía razón, bueno su sobrino Daniel, estar en un nuevo cuerpo es genial, no comprendo porque una paja nos sella en los cuerpos hasta el siguiente eclipse lunar total pero a quien le importa, debo regresar el collar después de todo solo me lo presto.

Entonces mi tío se me fue a bañar en mi cuerpo y cada que podía se observaba y jugaba con mi pene, el asqueroso estaba usando mi cuerpo para darse auto placer mientras se bañaba, luego de eso, se vistió y salió a fuera, prendió un cigarrillo y comenzó a fumar, yo nunca había fumado, así que mi cuerpo comenzó a toser y mi tío solo decía que era cuestión de práctica antes de que mi cuerpo recibiera el humo como algo normal y sin problemas, después de todo la posesión era imposible de revertir hasta el eclipse.

Victor POV

Luego de no poder fumar y tener muchas limitaciones respiratorias un amigo se ofreció a ayudarme con mi problema, me platico que en realidad era el sobrino de mi amigo ocupando su cuerpo, me dijo que con un collar podía tomar el cuerpo de alguien más y poder vivir una vida normal, solo que necesitaba que alguien me diera permiso de ocupar su cuerpo y el me prestaría el collar.

Le dije que mi sobrino accedió, lo se no estuvo bien mentirle pero que más podía hacer, además de mi sobrino no tenía algún conocido de confianza que viviera solo, estuviera sano y pudiera llevar su vida sin tantas dificultades.

Mi sobrino estuvo a punto de tomar mi cuerpo en el último momento, había preparado todo para yo ser el y el por poco me toma, sabía que si lo encerraba en mi cuerpo se resistiría a fumar, pero no sabe lo difícil que es vivir con las secuelas de esa enfermedad, por eso me decidí a tomar su cuerpo a la fuerza si era necesario, no podía dejar que nadie se enterara, y menos hacerlo pasar por lo que yo paso a diario, lo se, soy débil y esa no era la manera, pero el sobrino de Juan me dijo, que Juan tomó su cuerpo unos minutos y no recordaba nada, así que si tomaba el cuerpo de mi sobrino para el sería un abrir y cerrar de ojos.

Luego de ponerle el collar, me apresure y entre en el, sentía como me envolvía una cálida sensación de calma y perdí mis sentidos, al abrir mis nuevos ojos mis sentidos volvieron, me apresure a masturbarme para hacer esto algo temporalmente irreversible, tome su polla y se puso dura como roca, era una paja increíble, su pene era más grande que el mío, estuve bombeando hasta soltar su semilla por mi nuevo abdomen y al terminar tome una ducha pero no me resistí y lo hice de nuevo, al terminar de ducharme me vestí, no lo negaré, no puedo dejar de ver mi nuevo cuerpo.

Luego salí a fumar, su cuerpo no acepto el cigarrillo, es normal yo también batalle la primera vez, pero se resolverá a fin de cuentas era cuestión de práctica antes de que mi nuevo cuerpo reciba el humo como algo normal y sin problemas.

Volví a entrar a la casa de mi sobrino y mi teléfono recibió una llamado, era "Juan", bueno su sobrino me preguntó si ya había terminado con el collar y que lo quería para guardarlo en un lugar seguro donde no se perdiera y se proteja hasta que lo necesitemos, así que me subí a mi carro y tome el collar, lo puse en un caja que coloque arriba del carro en lo que lo abría, pero una mano lo tomó, era el tonto vecino de mi sobrino y un compañero de su universidad, venían a invitarme a una tarde con ellos en su piscina, dije que no para evitar problemas con lo de entregar el collar, le pedí el collar pero su vecino se lo puso porque según el era que se veía muy lujoso y quería ver como se le veía, y su compañero le iba a dar una palmada en la espalda pero solo pude ver como su brazo y todo su cuerpo se comenzaba a hundir en el cuerpo del torpe vecino y su bañador que era lo único que tenía puesto recorría por sus piernas, luego sus pies y finalmente caían al piso luego ser absorbido o fusionado con su amigo, la verdad no se bien como funcione esto, pero solo sabia que acababa de ocasionar un gran problema mientras el cuerpo de mi nuevo vecino tenía un ligero espasmo y me volteaba a ver con los ojos llenos de incertidumbre, claramente no era el dueño del cuerpo quien estaba mirándome.

[kon-igi]

Mia madre, 82 anni, negli ultimi 3 anni ha perso senza motivo circa 25 kg (peso attuale 35 kg), senza che sia stata individuata una causa (fatti praticamente tutti gli approfondimento diagnostici possibili) ((cronica BPCO e fumatrice da una vita)).

Si parla di sarcopenia legata all'invecchiamento... Da alcuni mesi fa attività con un fisioterapista domiciliare 1 volta a settimana, e altri semplici esercizi in autonomia quotidianamente. Assume Meritene due volte al giorno. Ma è praticamente pelle e ossa, non riesce più a uscire di casa perché dopo pochi passi è stanca, quindi si aggiunge la frustrazione di essere dipendente quasi per ogni cosa.

So che questa è una delle tue attività professionali, hai qualche consiglio prima di rassegnarci? Non sappiamo davvero più dove sbattere la testa 😓. Grazie

Il fatto è che 82 anni sono tanti, mi spiace.

La sarcopenia - la perdita di tessuto molle - diventa fisiologica dopo i 50 anni cioè quando, in assenza di attività fisica, si perde quel meccanismo di accumulo funzionale di proteine sul muscolo, in favore di depositi lipidici (ginoidi e androidi).

Dopo i 70 anni subentrano poi dei meccanismi di malassorbimento da una parte e di perdita dell'appetito dall'altra, ragion per cui, pur essendo necessario un minor introito calorico per la diminuita attività fisica, non bisogna dimenticare il metabolismo basale e il fabbisogno plastico della struttura connettivale.

Ok il meritene ma la BPCO unita alla sarcopenia impongono all'organismo un'inevitabile astenia generalizzata perché alle cellule manca sia un corretto apporto di ossigeno (controllate l'ossimetria: se la saturazione di 0² è sotto il 90% in aria ambiente molto è spiegato) che di calorie.

A quell'età difficilmente si può riuscire a ricostituire la massa muscolare con l'aumento di apporto proteico, piuttosto i pasti 'nutrienti' servono a evitare l'insorgenza di lesioni da compressione e che il metabolismo basale 'scenda troppo' (ho semplificato), con il rischio che si instaurino problematiche di scompenso cardiaco e respiratorio.

@firewalker

P.S. Se vuoi chiacchierarne in modo informale - ricordando che il tuo medico di base è l'unico titolato a prendere decisioni mediche - mi puoi trovare su telegram come kon_igi

[divinekangaroo]

Stuck in hospital again as the 7yo is not having a good run of it. He's long had and has further developed an absolutely visceral physical terror reaction of blood tests, too, which is interesting given he's unbothered by blood/injury in non-medical settings. But was watching how he and the medicos were trying to interact, him desperately shrieking/begging that they tell/explain everything, let him pick what finger, let him pick exactly what moment it goes in, let him pick exactly what moment it stops; the way he would go so rigid they couldn't do anything, couldn't pull his arm into position, him crying, no you can't do it now, you have to come back in 10 minutes; then him and I hit on the method of doing a 'practice run' over and over at his request where I'd pretend to be the nurse and come in and do it all to him (with no needle of course) until he was calm enough to go, ok, they can do it now BUT they have to come in and say [insert string of words] and [string of words] and start in the corner and come around the bed in exactly the same way you did---

All so he had some sense of control.

And in the meantime, they'd come in and just go, 'look over there! pretend it's not happening! think of something nice! look at your iPad!' until the mad fighting and writhing escalated too far and I had to pull them aside and explain that no, actually, what would help him was letting him work through what was being done to him and understand every step in detail in advance, and trying to force him to look away was making him panic worse.

Anyway, after five lots of it today, two sets of sheets changed (the visceral wet-sobbing and drooling he absolutely *soaked* through them), they brought in a "Certificate of Bravery" for "letting his blood be taken", and THEN the buggers took a photo of him looking absolutely white-faced and miserable with the nurses, and gave him stickers, and when they left the room he crumpled it all up and shoved it into corners under the mattress, muttering, I didn't want a certificate, I didn't want stickers

[belamcandas]

is that AVAN JOGIA? oh, no, that’s HARIJ ‘HARI’ VASAV, a THIRTY-TWO year old ER NURSE PRACTITIONER AT VALPARAISO CENTRO MEDICO who uses HE/THEYpronouns. they currently live in VALPARAISO, and the character they identify with most is CRISTINA YANG FROM GREYS ANATOMY . hopefully they find their own little paradise here in el país de los poetas! 

NAME — harij vasav  NICKNAME(S) — hari NAME MEANING — harij: the horizon. hari: lion, one who forgives all sins. vasav: lord indra AGE — thirty-two DATE OF BIRTH — october 25th STAR SIGNS — scorpio sun, virgo moon, scorpio rising PLACE OF BIRTH — boston, massachusetts SEXUAL ORIENTATION — queer RELIGION — agnostic, it's complicated SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S) — english, gujarati, spanish OCCUPATION — er nurse practitioner at valparaiso centro medico RESIDENCE — valparaiso FAMILY — munjal vasav ( father ), roslyn vasav ( mother ), hayva vasav ( sister )

tw: mentions of alzheimers, passing of a parent ( non descriptive for both subjects )

when your dad is a world renowned neurosurgeon it’s a hard pedestal to fall from, especially if you feel like you haven’t even begun to measure up. it’s even harder when that same father slowly starts to lose his memory. 

hari grew up as a shadow, at least, that’s what his dad called him when he would go to work with his father because him and his mother were fighting again and they couldn’t find child care. it seemed insane that a couple years later they would inevitably get back together again and have another child. then, his father would have two shadows. 

hayva would be the golden child, the one that would step up to the plate and do everything that his father had always wanted for hari, and hari wanted to make the same kind of difference – it’s just not in the way that their dad wanted. 

whenever they visited their mother on weekends she would look at her son, rest a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it as if she was saying that she understand what it meant to come second or third in his father’s life. 

but hari would always be his shadow, he was interested in the brain, but wanted to be at the heart of the action. 

when his dad is diagnosed with early on set alzheimer's their world shifts, hayva goes into overdrive into finding a cure, hari thinks that havya is a little naive to believe that they’ll be able to find one in such a short amount of time. it’s a slow process, and hari doesn’t want to just stand by and watch. 

they were a gifted student, but their extracurriculars lied behind a camera, growing up with other hospital kids gave them an abundance of free time and they would make movies, their playground was white walls and sterile environments but they made it into a kingdom. 

between weekends at moms, week days with his dad, he had his camera, but he stuck to his studies. he never knew what he wanted to do, and never felt like they quite fit in with their peers because they never had much time to get to know them. 

their dad used to say he was in his glory days before the disease finally took him out, their dad wrote books, did research, gave talks and began to prep hayva to take his place when she was old enough. 

hari loved their sister, but they loved their peace of mind more. 

it didn’t quite hit until their first year of college, that first taste of freedom when they were still deciding on what to major in. there was a college party, no one could really remember what really happened, too much drinking, too many kids who made stupid decisions, but hari had stepped in, with his calm demeanor and steady presence, he took control of the situation, saved a life. 

emergency medicine was what he was passionate about. they decided to become a nurse, and then eventually, an emergency nurse practitioner. 

his dad said that he was proud of him, but sometimes he wished that he would take his place, hari had said, why have me when you have hayva?

it would be years little communication, his dad’s disease worsening, and then, eventually a funeral. 

then there was a will, entitled to harij vasav, his dad had a little place in valparaiso and it was up to hari what they wanted to do with it. 

they’ve been trying to clean up the place, while living in it, with intentions to settle up. but they keep finding things in the house that belonged to their father throughout the years that makes it hard for them to let go. 

news articles of their fathers works, while harij’s school campus articles of the student film project they did when they were a sophomore, on top of him making the dean’s list, and when he got accepted at his first job, and how yes he might have been the munjal vasav’s child, harij was a good er nurse practitioner carving their own way in life without their father’s fame. 

maybe they’ll sell the house, but right now they’re finding that hard to do. 

headcanons & fun facts: 

kind of shy at first but once you get to know him a total goofball 

copes by playing video games 

has a letterbox account that they run like the navy 

actually a good little ‘filmmaker’ it was his passion all throughout his life but never got around to living it #sad but oh well !! 

a fan of so many muses in valpo like how come theres so many celebs and musicians living here this is crazy 

renting out a room so if anyone would like that connection im so down 

very good at their job !!!! like online they sound like an idiot but trust they know what theyre talking about when it comes to work matters !!!!! 

lowkey a pothead when they were not working but like thats fine theyre allowed 

also an avid vaper with esme and dante i fear :///// 

not close with their sister unfortch but she is a badass and is still currently in school etc to take up their fathers position 

mama’s boy !!! they talk all the time they’ve gotten very close over the years which is good but also sad bc theyve both felt that neglect ( even if it wasn’t purposeful on their dad’s end ) 

idk they’re an idiot to all relationships i fear

they wanna be loved so bad, and just like Seen

has a bearded dragon its their bestie frfr

[dododan]

"The words we are afraid to say"

A short story related to Rottmnt recently popped into my head. As you can see it is a short scene between Splinter and Big Mama.

"There are a lot of questions swirling around in Splinter's head, and most of them involve Big Mama. The questions arose after he found out that she was the one who helped his boys find him. He didn't understand why she did it. He hoped that after all these years the woman would answer at least that one question for him."

The voices from the television resonated. They echoed through the abandoned metro station, which had been taken over a few days ago by four turtles and a certain rat. The faint light of the television illuminated the room. Splinter looked at his sleeping sons. His boys were buried between the pillows and blankets they had taken from their old home. Tired, but safe. This scene filled him with relief. There were times when he thought they would not make it through the fight. But they made it through. Together.  

Splinter found it hard to get used to the new place as much as his sons. Few things from their old home had survived. Only it wasn't that important. They may have lost their hiding place, but it was just a place. He couldn't deny that they had spent a lot of nice times there, and he felt regret despite everything. His boys, at such a young age, had to face a terrifying monster that almost took their lives - the Shredder. Only because when he was young, Yoshi was too arrogant and filled with regret to at least listen to what his grandfather had to say. Maybe if only he had been smarter....   

He just couldn't change the past. He did what he did. He sighed while still looking at his sons, who were cuddling into each other. He smiled slightly at the sight. His children were safe and nothing else should matter to him. They had made it.   

Splinter disappeared into the depths of the corridor, walking silently. His boys slept undisturbed by the sound of the TV, so there was no way they could have heard their father slipping out into the night. Still, Yoshi preferred that none of his sons knew where he was going, especially Leonardo. There were some things that couldn't wait any longer and Splinter needed to find answers to his questions. Even if the hope of getting them was slim, he had to at least try.   

 There was simply something inside him that told him to go and see for himself. He glanced once more at the old photograph he held in his hand. He took them from Big Mama's flats a few months ago. He suspected that she had probably already guessed that he had stolen it, because who else could silently sneak into her flat?   

 He slipped the photo back into his pocket, exiting the underground tunnel.   

...  

Her usually brightly lit office, tonight was bathed in semi-darkness. It was her first day on the job when the medico allowed her to get out of bed. She couldn't afford another day of delay. She had a lot of work to do, and the world was waiting for no one.   

Anyone who ever tells her that the world won't collapse if she allows herself a few days of convalescence is an idiot and doesn't have a clue how business works. It took less than a week for so many issues to accumulate that Big Mama wasn't sure she could handle everything.   

 Compensating the hotel's customers who had been affected by her champion being "out of control".   

 Meeting with the Hidden City Council to explain her "little freak out" in the form of Battle Nexus New York. She will likely be forced to make a sizable donation to the city budget.   

 Hotel refurbishment.   

Compensation for the affected employees....  

 She didn't even want to think about what else was on her to-do list.   

 She put her pen aside, straightening up in her chair. She began to massage her temples with a healthy hand. The severe headache had been lingering for days, but the potions she had seemed to alleviate it at least a little. Still, the faint light of the lamp irritated her, but she could not work in the dark. Her broken arm and damaged ribs were also a nuisance. Every more violent movement caused her unpleasant discomfort.  It flashed through her mind that maybe she should rest a few more days, as the medic advised, but she quickly dismissed it.   

 She could not show that she was weak. She was Big Mama. A few fractures or bruises shouldn't prevent her from running the empire. She had rested enough anyway.   

 She closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind before going back to reviewing the documents. She can't read the same page for 15 minutes. A barely audible creak sounded across the room. Big Mama pulled her eyebrows together, but continued not to open her eyes. Probably someone from the staff was strolling down the corridor. She took a deep breath, returning to her work. She tried to focus on the document, talking about the damage on floors twenty-two and twenty-three.   

 A hole in the ceiling in the corridor, three rooms flooded. The wall between room 234 and 233 had collapsed. Maybe she'll make it into one bigger flat? Cheaper than renovating two rooms.   

 Once again, a rustling sound echoed through her office. A small moment, as if something had brushed the floor.  Was her mind playing tricks on her? No one but her was in the study. She corrected her glasses without taking her eyes off the document. Perhaps fatigue was setting in?   

She ignored the rustling, trying to gather the rest of her strength to focus on the paperwork. She needed to review a few more documents today before heading off to bed.  The rustling noise reappeared. She didn't know why, but the hard-to-describe sound seemed familiar to her. It was as if she had heard it many times.  

 She played with her pen, wondering how such a rustling sound could be familiar to her. Suddenly, she experienced a daze. She chastised herself in her mind for her absentmindedness. She had let him lurk around her office for too long. She put down her pen, straightening up in her chair. The rustling sounded again, but now she knew who it belonged to.   

 “Are you going to continue hiding in the shadows, Yoshi?" asked Big Mama in a confident voice, gazing into the dark corner of her office. "Or should I say Splinter?"Although she couldn't see him in the darkness, her gut told her she was looking directly at him. "Or did you fancy this life as a rat?”   

 Her loud voice spread through the office. It radiated confidence, perhaps even superiority. Big Mama knew she had hit a sensitive spot as soon as a quiet creak sounded. She knew how much Yoshi had valued his appearance in the past. He had always tried to present himself well, even when fighting in her arena. She knew what she was doing to lure him out of the shadows. She couldn't let him continue to wander around her office.   

 “Polite as ever," , said Splinter, and a note of cynicism could be heard in his voice. 

 Even though she knew what he looked like these days, it was hard for her to get used to it. Grey fur. The moustache. He looked so foreign, and yet she could see the old Lou in him. Those dark brown eyes that watched her closely. The slightly upturned nose and the pulled down eyebrows.   

 Yoshi knew there was no point in hiding anymore. He turned towards the faint light of her desk lamp. The first thing that caught his eye was the cast on her left hand. He furrowed his brow. He had expected her to be injured after what his sons had told him, but hearing and seeing were two different things. Even in the semi-darkness, he could see a slight grimace on her face, although she tries to maintain her typical smile. The dark shadows under her eyes and the empty potion bottle had not escaped his attention. He knew exactly what could have been in there, as he himself had used this potion many times after his battles in the Arena.   

 “How do you feel?” asked Splinter directly.   

He was not going to hide the concern that resounded in his voice. If the last few days or months had taught him anything, it was that he needed to be honest. Not to others, but first and foremost to himself. There was no point in hiding the reason he had come here. Maybe it was silly, looking at the fact that he was talking to Big Mama, but he hoped that if he was honest with her she would return the favour.   

 “I've been better," Big Mama replied, turning her head away from her guest. She didn't want him to notice the surprise on her face. She hadn't expected him to ask so directly. But she couldn't allow herself a moment's hesitation. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Yoshi's sigh of relief. She saw the frown on his forehead disappear and his shoulders slump gently. She wondered how much truth there was in his behaviour, and how much he was playing to get something out of her. Usually she could read people or yokai. Only Yoshi was a mystery to her. She used to think he was always honest with her.... But everyone in this world has an ulterior motive. Everyone wants something. There is nothing for free. If you figured out quickly what exactly they were you had an advantage. Big Mama couldn't afford to be behind. "But it's not something I can't handle.” 

 Nevertheless, she allowed herself to take a close look at the man. Seeing no visible injuries in him, she felt a strange relief in her heart. Yoshi could feel Big Mama watched him, even if she tried to hide it. Maybe someone who wasn't as close to her as he was wouldn't have noticed how closely she was watching him. But neither of them could say out loud what they wanted.   

 “Full of energy as always” Yoshi commented, smiling slightly. Still, he chickened out and didn't tell her he was glad nothing serious had happened to her. Big Mama had always intimidated him. She had something about her that made Yoshi run out of words. Today was no different. Despite her visible fatigue, she continued to radiate the same strength he had seen during their first meeting.   

 “It can't be any other way my dear”, she replied frivolously, correcting a strand of hair that had slipped during their conversation. She turned back to the man, looking into his eyes. She was overwhelmed with fatigue. This day really had been a hard one, and she would gladly drop all games if it would allow her to cut this conversation short. Unfortunately, she couldn't. A woman like her had to keep her guard up, especially against the man whose love she had betrayed. She couldn't be sure what he would want to do. "But you didn't come here just for that, did you?” 

Splinter stared at the woman, trying to put his thoughts into words. He knew why he had come here, but when it came down to it doubts got to him. He lowered his gaze, wondering if this was the right choice. Big Mama stared at him unceasingly. Any other person she would have rushed to not waste her time, but not Yoshi. I guess he still meant something to her if she gave him time to think. Or she herself was curious about what he had to say to her. She wasn't sure about that.   

 She saw his shoulders tighten gently. He ran his claws through his grey hair. She remembered that mannerism of his. He did that every time he had a conundrum of some kind. She'd never forget those evenings when they'd talked through entire nights together. She had many opportunities to remember how he behaved. It ran through her mind that, despite all these years, some things had not changed about him.   

 “Why...” began Yoshi, and then raised his head. "Why did you do that?" His voice trembled.   

 “Isn't it obvious?"She asked squinting slightly, and the sly grin never left her face. Splinter saw her tilt her head. She always did that when she wanted to tease. To throw the interlocutor off balance, to show all their cards. It might have worked on others, but not on him.   

 They stared at each other. They measured each other with their eyes. Both waited for the other to crack. In the old days, they both cared about winning an argument or a clash. Then they were unable to let go. Yoshi was usually the first to explode, driven by anger. They would shout at each other. Yoshi blamed her for the woman's inability to open up to him.  Even towards him she used these tricks and hid from him. She, on the other hand, would catch him at his words and stick a pin in him, hiding behind a wall.   

 Only many years had passed since then, and Splinter was no longer that man.  

 Big Mama had seen his stature change. It seemed to her that he was more upright. As if more confidently. A seriousness dawned on his face that she had never seen in him before. Involuntarily, the smile descended from her face. She stared at him for another moment, as if unable to believe how he had acted. It was so different from what she remembered.   

 “I just found it more worthwhile,” she said, glancing at the papers on her desk.  Splinter knew she was trying to show him how indifferent she was to the whole thing. She wanted to show how little impression it had made on her. He slipped his hand into his pocket, touching the photo. He just continued to stand there and wait. Big Mama felt as if this answer was not enough for him, so she went on. She marked something in the document. "Shredder was a good champion. Not as great as you”, she said, suspending her gaze on Yoshi for a moment. It did not escape her notice how the man twitched slightly. "But when he stopped fulfilling his purpose, he had to be dealt with. Just when Shredder started causing problems, your sons appeared" This time she noticed how his ear twitched. She wasn't sure how to interpret that in Yoshi's performance, but he responded. “It would be a shame not to use them to get rid of this problem.” 

She was so calm throughout her argument. Her every word was carefully chosen. Splinter felt again that she was trying to get him off balance. A memory of his past. Big Mama's memory of how he was against further fighting in the Arena. The memory of his sons, knowing how important they are to him. Speaking so brazenly in his presence about using his sons as tools to clean up the problem she had in part created.   

 He couldn't say it didn't upset him, but Splinter was no longer as short-sighted as he once was. Nor was he going to ignore that gut feeling that told him the truth was different. In the past, he hadn't trusted that hunch and had paid a heavy price for it. This time, he was not going to let her hide the truth.   

 Initially, he didn't intend to do so, but she gave him no choice. This time, he's not going to let her get away with the answers. Even if he loses this photo, he might finally hear the truth. He probably deserved it after all this time.   

 He approached her with a slow but sure step. He could see Big Mama playing with a pen, playing relaxed. But he knew that she could easily hit the security button, which was camouflaged next to the pen cup, at any time. In less than a minute her best staff would have arrived. Nevertheless, she did not call them. She couldn't tell why. She didn't see Yoshi as a threat. Not that kind. Yoshi was a man of principle. Of that one thing she was sure.   

 She saw him reach into his pocket, and then she froze. He had the picture. He placed it in front of her. The woman grabbed it, looking at it carefully. It was her photo. Tucked away in her flat. In her locker. He was here, and she didn't know it. She felt anger rising in her. She didn't wonder if she was angry at the fact that he had broken into her room and stolen the photo, or maybe at herself for not realising. She thought she had lost them somewhere.   

In her anger, she did not notice how sadness and a certain longing crept onto Splintra's face. He really didn't want to lose that picture.   

 "You!” she was going to yell at the man, but a sudden pain in her ribs prevented her. For a moment she ran out of breath, propping herself up against the desk top with her healthy hand. She scowled, trying to take a breath.   

 Splinter found himself at her side. He wanted to help somehow. He didn't intend to upset her that much. He didn't want her to suffer because of him. Despite everything, deep down he still cared about her. In some strange, twisted way, he wanted to find out if the woman he loved reciprocated his feelings.   

 “Don't touch me,” growled Big Mama at him before he could do anything.  

She looked down at him. If only she were well, she would have given him a shove. The man stood still. Surprised by her vehemence, he didn't dare move. Big Mama concentrated on her breathing, sitting down in a chair. She leaned back, closing her eyes in pain. She didn't care if Splinter saw it. That wasn't what was important at the moment. Big Mama calmed her breathing, contemplating her next move.   

She was angry. Annoyed. She would have loved to throw him out of here. But she also felt a strange sense of relief. Happiness, perhaps? There was so much emotion in her that she felt like crying. It had been a long time since she had felt so out of balance. She looked at Yoshi, who continued to stand sideways to her. She could see that he wanted to hear the truth. Just what kind of truth Big Mama herself wasn't sure what it was. Instead, she knew one thing. She was Big Mama. The owner of the Nexus Hotel and the Battle Nexus Arena. She had her empire and the long road she had to travel to achieve it all. In this world, a woman like her could not allow herself a moment of weakness. Otherwise she would be devoured by others, as she had done thousands of times before. 

“It was a purely business decision. Then as now”, she said slowly and trying to maintain her composure. "I chose you to be my champion and I did everything to make you one. You did not protest. At least not at first.” 

Splinter clenched his hands into fists. The fur at the nape of his neck gently grew thicker. He felt it wasn't the whole truth. It couldn't be.   

“What about us? With what we had?”   

“Yoshi” Big Mama interrupted him, looking into his eyes. She could see him starting to shake, but it wasn't important. She had to make him realise. "Love is a weakness. And you were just an investment that paid off. You did a good job as a champion. I don't need you anymore.” She spoke slowly and clearly, emphasising the last sentence. These words tore at Splinter's heart. “I only helped your sons because it was more profitable than letting that maniac run wild.” 

A heavy silence fell between them. They both looked into each other's eyes. Splinter knew it wasn't true, or at least not entirely. Still, her words hurt. They hit where they hurt the most. They opened old wounds that Splinter had found so hard to come to terms with.   

“Now, if you'll allow me, some people have work they have to do. And you've got sons who I think need your attention," Big Mama turned towards the papers, ignoring the rat.   

She thought he was going to walk away and she wasn't wrong. She heard Splinter moving away towards the window. The man stood at the open window, looking at Big Mama's reflection. She sat bent over her desk as if nothing had ever happened. Splinter sighed heavily.  

“I don't know what I was hoping for”, Splinter said with such regret in his voice that Big Mama sat paralysed. "I guess for you to be honest with me for once.”  

The woman wasn't sure why those words hurt her more than anything she had ever experienced in her life. Somehow his words and how he said them hurt her more than when she thought he had run away from her. She turned towards the window, opening her mouth.   

Only Splinter was no longer there.   

She herself doesn't know what she should have expected from the way she had treated him. Big Mama herself found it hard to believe, but she wanted him to call her his Sassy Sugar Badger again. 

“Unfortunately, in this cruel world only the strongest survive, Hyggypoo”, she said in a whisper, reaching for their old photo.   

She stared at it and felt her heart ache. It squeezed in her chest and ached more than bruised ribs. Yoshi was the past, and she couldn't lose herself in it. She couldn't show weakness, because that was the world she lived in. Still, a thought ran through her mind as to whether she was doing the right thing. Had she not lost something precious along the way, climbing to the top? Had she not missed the chance for something better, if only she had allowed herself a little honesty? 

She sighed heavily, hiding the photo in a drawer. She had more important things on her mind than a would-be affair. She needed to concentrate on her business. She knew that the path she had taken would not be easy. But she could handle any challenge. She has to, because at this point there is no turning back.   

Meanwhile, Splinter was returning home. To his beloved sons. Maybe he had suffered through what had happened. Maybe he was foolish for believing that Big Mama could change. He has to move forward. It will hurt, but he has a new light towards which he can move. His sons. 

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

by Bill Muehlenberg | We are told to “follow the science”. What we have witnessed far too often over the past four years is “follow the money”. Be it corrupt politicians, Big Pharma, medicos with vested interests, or globalist bodies seeking to control us all, we have seen how quickly and easily science and medicine can be corrupted and…

[transmutationisms]

could you talk more on eds and biopolitics?

sure, so this is broad strokes and it's also worth reiterating that the energy deficit characteristic of EDs can have a lot of different causes besides intentional food restriction—food insecurity is a huge and underrecognised factor here but there are many others. so when i talk about intentional restriction and the desire to be thin / lose weight, i'm not suggesting these are universal characteristics or causes of EDs.

anyway though, in the context of discussing these things, and particularly the relationship between 'diet culture' and EDs, a perennial frustration to me is that i often hear people fall back on the idea that the desire to be thin comes about as a result of the beauty standards perpetuated in mass media, fashion adverts, &c, without any subsequent interrogation of why it is that beauty itself is now so heavily dependent on thinness. after all, plenty of people have pointed out this is not a universal; beauty varies in different times and places, what is described or depicted as beautiful in historical records doesn't necessarily have much overlap with today's hegemonic standards, and so forth.

so when historicising this phenomenon it becomes very clear that the euro/anglo standard of thinness as beauty is, one, part of the ideological apparatus justifying colonialism thru the creation of race and white supremacy. sabrina strings and da'shaun harrison have written on this. two, the thin ideal is also inextricably tied up in medical discourses defining the ideal body as one that is economically productive, with the promise being that if the populace can be transformed into 'healthy',*** useful, hardworking citizens, the state benefits. control of bodyweight is therefore certainly a means of demonstrating one's supposed self-control, moral discipline, &c, but it is also a demand expressed in medical terms: these two discourses merge and overlap, and are both part of the capitalist state's transformation of its citizenry into a biological resource that can be controlled, managed, and exploited to bourgeois ends (profit): hence, biopolitics.

(***the story of how 'health' itself comes to be so dependent on thinness is obviously a critical piece of all this but this post is long as shit already so suffice it to say that this conflation is also not obvious, necessary, universal, &c &c)

medico-political discourses in the 19th century tended to talk about the dangers of both over- and under-weight more than what we hear now; similarly, if you think about something like wilbur atwater's calorie-value charts, these were explicitly intended to guide labourers to the most calorie-dense foods, because to atwater the central danger to be avoided was starvation among the workforce. these days in wealthy countries like the us, you are much more likely to hear about weight management in the context of demands to reduce; this is of course following moves like the WHO declaring an 'obesity epidemic' in 1997, and the rise in the usa of more explicitly nationalist, militaristic weight-loss rhetoric in the post-9/11 era.

however, my position is that these demands for thinness, and the beauty standard that follows and justifies them, are not a departure from earlier 19th- and 20th-century scientific nutrition advice, just an evolution that, for a multitude of reasons (politics, medical professional interests, insurance company practices, &c) has simply come to focus more on the ostensible economic and national threat posed by fatness. the underlying logic bears the biopolitical throughline: the state has, or ought to have, an interest in enforcing the health of its population, and as part of this demands that you the individual surveil and alter your weight according to the scientific guidelines du jour.

this is fertile ground for the development of what, in extreme form, we regard as ED pathology. first, because even the most purely 'health'-motivated individual engaging in the required degree of bodily monitoring and caloric restriction is liable to respond to energy deficit in ways that can become diagnosably distressing. second, because the morals of 'health' are never far from standards of beauty; thinness is sold in overtly profitable ways (the diet and weight-loss industries) and furthermore, our idea of beauty is often a kind of post hoc justification for the thinness already being demanded by state and medical authorities. which is really just to say, beauty is part of the ideological superstructure both resulting from and invoked as a justification for the material conditions of capitalist biopolitics. again this is very broad strokes, but imo it is a much more useful framework to understand EDs than simply presenting them as a result of desiring thinness because it is glorified in The Media, because... reasons (essentially the rené girard model, lol).

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Bernard Lane

Published: Jun 22, 2023

Today, Australia’s upper house of parliament, the senate, may get to vote on a proposal for an inquiry into youth gender medicine.

I don’t know if a parliamentary inquiry is the right vehicle. I am confident, however, that popular arguments against an inquiry—against any kind of inquiry—are shot through with holes.

Let’s take them one by one.

We must not politicise medicine. Youth gender medicine is already politicised. The “gender-affirming” medicalised approach is not like any other branch of medicine. It is a hybrid of identity politics and medical technology. When evidence is lacking, politics fills the gap by invoking transgender rights. This is part of a society-wide distortion of institutions and norms by emotive social justice causes. In any case, the role of the medico in the child-led gender-affirming model is limited because the distress of gender dysphoria is in effect self-diagnosed. The sacrosanct trust between health professional and patient is nonetheless invoked to argue that legislatures should not prohibit medicalised gender change for minors, nor even inquire into standards of medical safety. But that same trust is swept aside when politicians are cajoled into passing ill-defined laws against “conversion therapy”, meaning in practice that ethical alternatives to the gender-affirming treatment approach are shut down.

We should not import U.S. culture wars. Too late: the dogmatic gender-affirming way is an American export that already dominates the market in rich countries. Joe Biden’s administration is pushing this “progressive” form of medicalisation not only to unwilling Republican states, but also to diverse, not necessarily receptive cultures around the world, courtesy of U.S. diplomacy. Many Democrats are dismayed by gender ideology, just as there is fierce dissent in centre-left parties and feminist groups across the developed world. It’s European social welfare states such as Sweden, Finland and England which have started the shift away from hormonal and surgical treatments for gender distress to more mainstream mental health strategies.

In these countries, the game-changer has been systematic reviews of the evidence base for medical transition of minors. Using a method that controls for bias and allows checking by others, these reviews have shown the evidence to be very weak. Which means we cannot be confident about the outcomes, good or bad, of puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones. We are embarked upon an uncontrolled experiment.

Trans kids will kill themselves. It’s never put this bluntly, of course, because that would make too obvious the reckless, manipulative nature of this ploy. Instead, we’re told youth gender medicine is very sensitive, involving a very vulnerable population of young people. True, up to a point. But some in the senate predictably recycled the figure that one in two trans kids attempts suicide. That’s from a low-quality, anonymous online survey with an unrepresentative sample and no follow-up to check responses. In the same vein, parents hesitant about puberty blockers or cross-sex hormones are asked, “Do you want a live son or a dead daughter?” Gender dysphoria seems to be a free-for-all where activists can ignore standard mental health warnings about the danger of retailing a simplistic suicide narrative. How does it serve trans-identifying young people to be constantly told by clinicians and journalists that they are uniquely prone to self-harm?

Dr Ken Zucker, a leading international expert on youth gender dysphoria, believes the suicide risk of gender clinic youth is similar to that of young people seen by child and adolescent mental health teams for conditions such as depression. Which makes sense, because patients in gender clinics are often depressed as well as dysphoric. “If you are depressed,” Dr Zucker told me, “your suicidality risk is going to be elevated, but you see that in kids who are depressed but don’t have gender dysphoria. The idea that adolescents with gender dysphoria are at a higher risk of suicide per se is dogma—and I think it’s wrong.” And the gender-affirming model, with its gender fixation, does not seem well suited to the perfectly ethical exploratory therapy that might disentangle the range of mental health and neurodivergent issues affecting many of these young people.

It’s agreed that gender clinic youth need compassionate help. Mental health clinicians are used to working with suicide risk, and this doesn’t require a no-questions rule at the policy level. Quite the opposite. There is an emerging group of young people, known as detransitioners, who regret medicalised gender change—they are certainly vulnerable, often shunned by their former trans community and overlooked by health professionals. They need help. And they may be able to teach lessons about less invasive ways to deal with dysphoria and how to minimise harm to other young patients. We won’t find out unless as a society we can ask sensible questions. Is the gender-affirming approach so fragile that it cannot be scrutinised or debated?

Greg Hunt sorted this. So we were told repeatedly in the senate yesterday. In mid-2019, after my news reports in The Australian quoting clinicians and researchers seeking a national inquiry, federal health minister Greg Hunt asked the Royal Australasian College of Physicians to carry out a review of youth gender medicine. At the outset, the college sent some odd signals, releasing a statement that implied the gender-affirming treatment guideline from the Royal Children’s Hospital Melbourne (RCH) would serve as a benchmark for inquiry, rather than as a document to be critically assessed. I did some digging and discovered that the college had previously lobbied—on one occasion with the RCH gender clinic director—for faster and easier access to the hormonal treatments it was now supposed to examine. No answer when I asked the college about a conflict of interest.

In March 2020, the college served up a four-page letter to Hunt. It followed the “very vulnerable” script, warning of “extremely high rates of depression, self-harm, attempted suicide and suicide”. No data, no citations. No description of the hormonal and surgical treatments favoured by the gender-affirming model, no consideration of any risk attending those interventions, no discussion of less invasive alternatives. The college did, however, see a clear and present danger—a national inquiry “would further harm vulnerable patients and their families through increased media and public attention.” No evidence was offered to support this claim, which reflects an identity politics dogma. Hunt fed the story to The Age in Melbourne, the home town for the RCH gender clinic, which had spearheaded the gender-affirming model in Australia. “In recognition of the risks of further harm to young people, the government does not intend to establish a national inquiry on this matter”—so reported The Age, quoting the health minister’s spokesman. I asked Hunt why an inquiry would do harm, and he sought to disown the claim, suggesting it had been added by officials without his knowledge.

It’s a state responsibility. That’s certainly what Hunt’s office told me back in 2020. The head of the federal health department, Professor Brendan Murphy, was said to be disturbed about the lack of data kept by some gender clinics in state children’s hospitals. Hunt insisted that a state-federal body of senior health officials would deliver what was needed: a new, uniform model of clinical governance across Australia and a common system for proper data collection. As far as I can tell, nothing came of this.

The experts have spoken. There is another review worth revisiting, but I heard no mention of it in the senate yesterday. In mid-2019 a psychiatrist contact and I stumbled across a stealth edit in the LGBT mental health policy of the Royal Australian and New Zealand College of Psychiatry. The March version of that policy had explicitly endorsed the RCH gender-affirming guidelines. In August I began reporting criticism of the rigour and safety of this document, which was badged as “Australian Standards of Care”. The following month, the college’s endorsement of the RCH guideline had disappeared from the policy online, replaced with the bland advice to use “evidence-based treatment guidelines.” There was no announcement about this.

I asked the college what had happened, and they said the change had been made pending a review of the evidence supporting the guideline. Two years later, the college had fleshed out a much more nuanced policy on gender dysphoria. The endorsement of the RCH guideline was not restored (it was tactfully relegated to a footnote). The new policy highlights the “paucity” of quality evidence on the outcomes of gender-affirming hormonal drugs and surgery such as mastectomy. It says “evidence and professional opinion is divided” on whether the affirmative approach should be used with children. It ­reminds psychiatrists of the changes in identity and brain ­development that come with childhood and adolescence, and insists that judgments about the capacity of minors to consent to treatment should be clearly documented. And the policy hints at the risk of lawsuits, warning its members of the “ethical and medico-legal ­dilemmas” posed by these life-­altering medical interventions given within a legal framework that is “rapidly changing”. This review has stood the test of time. So, too, has the cautious guide to managing youth gender dysphoria issued by the National Association of Practising Psychiatrists under its president Dr Philip Morris.

Video: The medical interventions sought via the London-based Tavistock GIDS clinic, the world’s largest youth gender clinic, are the same as those offered at children’s hospital gender clinics in Australia

It’s an attack on the LGBTQ community. In fact, there is growing tension between mainstream LGBs, who cling to biological sex, and the extreme Queer Theory-driven trans agenda, which promotes an inner “gender identity” cut adrift from the body. For these LGBs, same-sex attraction is the real deal. But the TQs want everyone to accept that a male-bodied person who identifies as a woman can be a lesbian—a transbian with a lady penis. Another sharp divide is the medical transition of minors. Mature LGBs recall being young, gender non-conforming and uncertain of their identity. They witness the medicalisation of today’s gender non-conforming youth, and reflect on what they escaped. Some see gender medicine as a form of eugenics, because early puberty blocking followed by cross-sex hormones is a formula for sterile adults and impaired sexual pleasure in the case of males. There are well-known transsexuals who agree with the LGBs that there is an almighty backlash coming when mainstream society understands what it has not been told about youth gender clinics. Who, then, will be under attack?

[virromanus]

20 Useful Italian Phrases to use when at the Hotel

In a Hotel

Posso vedere la camera prima di decidere? - Can I see the room before deciding?

La camera ha una bella vista? - Does the room have a good view?

C'è un servizio di sveglia disponibile? - Is there a wake-up service available?

Posso avere un altro cuscino? - Can I have another pillow?

Dove si trova la palestra/l'area fitness? - Where is the gym/fitness area?

C'è un ristorante in hotel? - Is there a restaurant in the hotel?

Posso lasciare il mio bagaglio qui dopo il check-out? - Can I leave my luggage here after check-out?

C'è un servizio di lavanderia? - Is there a laundry service?

A che ora si serve la colazione? - What time is breakfast served?

C'è una piscina? - Is there a pool?

La camera include un cassaforte? - Does the room include a safe?

C'è un costo aggiuntivo per il Wi-Fi? - Is there an additional cost for Wi-Fi?

Potete prenotare un taxi per domani? - Can you book a taxi for tomorrow?

Posso avere una mappa della città? - Can I have a map of the city?

Dove posso parcheggiare la mia auto? - Where can I park my car?

La camera ha il controllo della temperatura? - Does the room have temperature control?

C'è un servizio di stanza disponibile? - Is room service available?

C'è una tariffa per i servizi aggiuntivi? - Is there a fee for additional services?

Posso avere informazioni sui tour locali? - Can I have information about local tours?

C'è un medico disponibile? - Is there a doctor available?

[thewildfl0wer]

—Esta es la primera vez que me atiende otro doctor que no sea el doctor Cha.—Tomo asiento, enfrentándose al nuevo cardiólogo. Era extraño ver a otra persona que no fuera su medico usual.—Discúlpeme, mi nombre es Beatrice Han, y vengo aquí por un control médico.— Cargaba con su carpeta de exámenes y por supuesto llevaba consigo el pulsómetro en su muñeca izquierda.

@waideweik​