#Spine Treatment Without Surgery

[childorthospinecare01]

Comprehensive Scoliosis Treatment Without Surgery in India | Child Ortho Spine Care

Understanding Spinal Deformity: What Is Scoliosis?

Scoliosis can be described as one of the most complex spine deformity that is characterized by an irregular spinal curvature that is lateral. Though this disorder affects anyone of all ages but it’s typically identified in teenagers. If not treated, scoliosis can cause extreme physical discomfort, impaired lung function and serious problems with posture. At Child Ortho Spine Care, we’re committed to offering efficient and non-invasive scoliosis treatment without surgery  throughout India.

Why Choose Non-Surgical Scoliosis Treatment?

The Advantages of Non-Surgical Scoliosis Treatment:

Minimum Risks The non-surgical approach significantly lowers the risk that are associated with surgical procedures.

Cost-effective: Treatments that are not surgical tend to be cheaper than surgeries.

No Recovery downtime: Patients can continue the normal routine with minimal to no disruption.

Customized Scoliosis Treatment Without Surgery in India

Bracing for Scoliosis: A Proven Non-Surgical Approach

The most efficient treatment options to treat Scoliosis can be bracing. In Child Ortho Spine Care, we have a specialization in designing specific braces to meet the individual needs of each patient. Braces designed for this purpose are intended to stop the progress of curvature, and frequently, decrease the severity of the curve.

Physiotherapy and Exercises: Strengthening and Aligning the Spine

We include targeted physiotherapy treatments as well as exercises within our treatment plan. The exercises we recommend are intended to strengthen muscles that support the spinal column, enhance posture as well as improve flexibility. Our experienced team of physiotherapists collaborate with every client to make sure they are performing the exercises properly and efficiently.

Observation and Regular Monitoring

The Expertise of Dr. Sanjay Sarup

What is at the core of Child Ortho Spine’s success in treating scoliosis lies the Dr. Sanjay Sarup, a well-known orthopedic surgeon who has extensive knowledge of treating deformities in the spine. His knowledge, in conjunction with our top-of-the-line facilities assures our patients the best quality of treatment.

Conclusion

Child Ortho Spine Care is committed to providing the most efficient and caring treatment that is non-invasive Scoliosis treatments across India. We are a patient-centric organization with a focus on providing long-term relief and a better health. If you or your family member is looking for an experienced and reliable clinic to receive scoliosis treatment without surgery  Our team is here to help you through throughout the process.

Recommend article:- scoliosis therapy in india

[vivid-vices]

holy shit how many times have you injured your ribs for them to just do that?

i have no idea honestly. i've broken/dislocated/otherwise injured so many bones and joints that i lost count years ago

[astrahospital1]

Astra hospital is the best orthopedic hospital in Bangalore. Our orthopedic doctors provide comprehensive bone and joint care. Our bone specialists treat conditions like arthroscopies, osteoporosis, ACL reconstruction surgery, frozen shoulder etc. Book an Appointment today

[em-omer]

My name is Saadiya Masoud. My family and I have endured the horrors of war. Our home in Jabalia, northern Gaza, was bombed, and my husband was severely injured in the chest and legs. He urgently needs to travel abroad for treatment. His health is in a critical state, and he is also deeply affected psychologically, as he witnesses the hardship his family is going through—our struggle to secure daily food and the necessary medicine to ease his pain—feeling helpless in the face of it all.

I have three children: five-year-old twins, Omar and Zein, and my three-year-old daughter, Zeina. At the start of the aggression on Gaza, when our house was hit by a missile, my son Omar was injured in his spine after a pillar collapsed on him. We were barely rescued from the rubble. We were then forced to flee to the south. I, along with my three children, walked on foot, not knowing anything about my husband, as his injuries were severe, and we had no idea which hospital he was taken to. I spent almost a month without any information about my husband, suffering with my children as we slept on the streets, barely managing to find food once a day. After a month of hardship, I heard that some of the injured had been transferred from the north to the Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital. I was fortunate that day to be reunited with my husband. He was exhausted and still had shrapnel in his chest, but unfortunately, no hospital in Gaza could perform the necessary surgery due to a lack of equipment. We moved to live together in a tent shared with three other families at an UNRWA school in Deir al-Balah.

I am pleading with everyone to help us in any way possible. We need pain relief medication for my husband and my son Omar, as well as other medicines to treat skin diseases and rashes that have spread across our bodies due to the lack of cleaning supplies like soap and shampoo. We also need healthy food for our children, who are surviving on unhealthy canned food every day.

Even a few cents could make a huge difference in our lives right now. Your small contribution can help us secure the basic necessities we desperately need. Please, from the bottom of my heart, I ask you to share our story and offer whatever support you can. Every little bit counts, and it will bring us one step closer to relief. Thank you so much for your kindness and generosity.

https://gofund.me/42ba47b3

[anexperimentallife]

EDIT: CRISIS AVERTED, THANK YOU!

Interracial US family w/ disabled autistic dad and toddler needs to get to the US for medical treatment

(New post because the old one was getting LONG with the updates. Details are under the "read more" to save your dash, with updates in the notes.)

TL;DR: If I'm going to live long enough to watch our daughter grow up, we need to get back to the US and get set up in a disability-friendly place where I can use my medical benefits.

Although I was already disabled (autism, adhd, and spine, joint, and head injuries), my health was stable--until four bouts of COVID left me immunocompromised, and utterly destroyed my health (including damage to my heart, blood clots that damaged one eye, neurological and joint issues, etc.), and although we started off fine, we've been hammered with one crisis after another, both medical and financial, that no one could have predicted.

Until we have enough to get back to the US, a chunk of whatever comes in has to go towards medical care that can't be put off, so the sooner we can reach critical mass on that, the better.

If you can help, or reblog, or share the links on other platforms, we'd be grateful!

The "Donate to Little or None" Paypal donation link takes the lowest fees, I think. (Kept the same link from when we were fighting to get our daughter's birth certificate fixed so we could get her citizenship affirmed.)

Then there's Ko-Fi:

And my little sister started a GoFundMe for us!

EDIT: The donation links above still work, but I removed the GoFundMe link.

IF YOU WANT ALL THE DETAILS SEE THE "READ MORE."

(There's more in my "rob gets medical" tag if you want a blow by blow account of how we got to this point over the past few years, but this is the gist.)

HOW IT STARTED:

I moved to the Philippines six years ago, after the deaths of my adult sons, in part to make my disability payments stretch further. Shortly afterwards, I was joined by my now-wife @thesurestthing (also from the US) for what was supposed to be a visit, but which turned into a permanent arrangement.

After I got a contract to license an old story for a mobile game (which tripled our income*), we found out we were having a baby, which was fine, because despite my disabilities (autism, adhd, two spine injuries, traumatic brain injury, a herniated esophagus, joint issues, etc.), my health was stable, and thanks to the contract, we were fine financially as well.

HOW IT STARTED GOING DOWNHILL:

Zoey's pregnancy was complicated, requiring two hospitalizations, and our daughter's birth was complicated, too--requiring a C-Section--which tripled our hospital bill. A few weeks after our daughter was born, the aforementioned contract was canceled without warning. THEN, when we tried to register our daughter's birth with the US embassy, we discovered an error on her birth certificate that left her stateless, and which took nearly two years, all our savings, and a fundraiser (thank you, generous people!) to resolve. Combined with medical expenses, that left us in a lot of debt.

A brief summary of went else wrong (leaving a lot out for brevity's sake):

I got COVID three four times during all this, became immunocompromised, and developed a slew of other medical issues (heart damage, eye damage and temporary facial paralysis from blood clots, persistent infections, a worsening of my joint issues, neurological issues, etc.) as a result of Long Covid.

I've had to be hospitalized a couple of times, undergo surgery, and was on an oxygen machine twice--once for an entire month, while I was bedridden. As of 24 January, 2024, I'm still recovering from my fourth bout of covid, which started at the beginning of October 2023.

There's a lot more, but you get the idea. COVID has completely wrecked my health, including tearing up my immune system.

And yes, I'm as fully vaxxed against COVID as one can be in the Philippines, with all available boosters, but again--I'm immunocompromised, plus they don't have the vax for the newest variant here yet. Zoey is vaxxed, also, and as a result, her bout with covid was extremely mild. El isn't vaxxed yet because they won't give the covid vaccine to kids under five here, but she's been able to share Zoey's antibodies from breast-feeding--which is apparently a thing.

The only way we can see for me to stay alive long enough to watch Eleanor grow up is to get back to where I can use my Medicare and VA benefits**.

WHY SO MUCH MONEY?

First, while we're still here, we need to pay for whatever medical care can't be put off. Plus, since I'm now immunocompromised, we have to get LOTS of vaccinations before we have to spend 24 hours or so in crowded planes and airports.

Second, we're going to be arriving with only what we can carry with us on the plane, and we'll need to get into a place near a VA hospital that I can easily get around in while I'm recovering from surgeries and getting various treatments. We'll need to pick up some secondhand household goods, and some kind of used transportation (because, you know, it's the US, where you kind of need a vehicle to get around).

We'll also need enough on top of my and El's disability payments to get by for a couple of months while Zoey looks for work. And all this is while we're still paying off the debt from the stuff I mentioned above.

So we're figuring that unless we catch some very lucky breaks, it'll probably cost between 20K and 36K altogether.

(We can't simply stay with friends when we get back, because literally every single close friend we have in the US with extra room and who lives close to a VA hospital has cats--to which I have a severe anaphylactic reaction. As in my entire respiratory system shuts down, and I have to be rushed to the ER to keep from dying; this has happened more than once. The only way I can be around cats is if I'm on immunosuppressants, and my immune system is ALREADY compromised, so I CAN'T do that.)

So again, if you can kick in, or reblog, or post our crowdfunding links (or the link to this post) on whatever other platforms you use, we'd appreciate it.

(*When I told social security about it, they said I could keep getting disability, too, because licensing IP rights didn't count as work income, and since it was a Moldavian company, it also fell under a special tax clause for getting paid by a foreign company while living overseas, so no taxes on it, either. )

(**VA benefits--I was a cold warrior in 1980s Germany. It was less than forty years after WWII, there was a lot of sabre-rattling--some of it nuclear--and we were there as a deterrent to prevent in Germany the kind of thing that's happening in Ukraine right now. Disclaimer because I'm tired of people accusing me of "invading" folks in the early 1980s when I was a dumb, heavily propagandized pre-Internet kid fixing generators in Europe. I wouldn't join today even if I could.)

[292905]

Spine Specialist in Chennai

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Our highly skilled team ofspine doctors in Chennai also provides advanced treatments such as Shoulder Manipulation and Knee Manipulation to restore joint function and reduce discomfort. Additionally, we offer Electrical Nerve Stimulation Therapy to help stimulate muscle recovery and reduce nerve pain. With our expertise in Exercise Therapy and Ergonomic Advice & Postural Correction, we ensure long-term health by helping patients avoid future injury.

As the Top Spine Specialist in Chennai, we also offer Neuromobilization Therapy, which is designed to relieve nerve tension and improve mobility. For a trusted, Non-Surgical Spine Specialist in Chennai, visit Ishwaryam Spine & Joint Clinic and start your journey to a pain-free, active lifestyle.

[justdiptych]

Trans issues are rarely brought up in the Fallout series. Fallout 2′s cut Environmental Protection Agency location was apparently slated to include 'Top Secret Research into Gender Modification', but there's little suggestion what that content would have actually included. Also, the pre-war USA was a fascist hellscape that was actively hostile to human rights - witness, for example, a federal information release about the New Plague, which conflates contagion, socialism and queer sexuality, and encourages readers to report anyone displaying any of the above for 'quarantine' - so pre-war trans communities likely drew as little attention to themselves as possible. More recently, two non-binary characters (Burke and Orlando) have been introduced in Fallout 76's expansions; their roles have been relatively minor.

All that said… the Auto-Doc technology we see in Fallout 2 and New Vegas would be an absolute boon for trans patients. Auto-Docs can synthesise and administer medications, including hormone treatments (the models in the Sierra Madre Villa Clinic can dispense adrenaline, for instance). Any medications not already available can be added to the Auto-Doc's database by a knowledgeable user - this is how the cure to Jet addiction is manufactured in Vault City.

Auto-Docs are also capable of all manner of surgeries. Cosmetic surgery is not unheard of in the Fallout universe - Rivet City’s Horace Pinkerton and Diamond City’s doctors Crocker and Sun all offer it - but Auto-Docs can go even further. Advanced models can even alter a patient’s entire skeleton, with minimal scarring: Fallout 2′s Chosen One can can have their skeleton reinforced, without any Charisma penalty (unless they opt for the heavier, more invasive upgrade), and New Vegas’ Courier can have their spine and central nervous system replaced with a synthetic alternative. Auto-Docs can even give a patient a new voice - Christine Royce tragically had this done to her without her consent, but this does demonstrate show the procedure’s viability for a willing user.

Whether or not the major medical companies of the Falloutverse would sign off on such uses of their tech, breaking and customising Auto-Doc programming seems to have been a simple matter. A suitably sympathetic or motivated physician could have easily started a trans health clinic that could address the bulk of their patients’ medical needs - hormone treatment, surgery far more advanced than exists in the real world, and even voice alteration.

In short, there is absolute, copper-bottomed, canon-compliant room in the wasteland for fully automated transing of genders, and I hope the devs will recognise and embrace this fact.

[mohannadadham]

Urgent Help Dalia's family Evacuate & Treat her parents

Plz Read Dr dalia Story:

Hello World , it's Dalia. Please read this as if I'm a member of your family . maybe your sister, daughter or a friend and as if my family who's under death now is yours.

My name is Dalia and this is my story. I am 27 years old, a laboratory doctor, and a graphic and website designer, also a private lessons teacher. Before October 7th, I had a beautiful and peaceful life with my family. I had ambition and many dreams. I was working in Al Shifa Laboratory and had an office for my design work as well as private student groups. But now everything has changed. What happened to us is a nightmare. I lost everything at once, my home and my work in all its aspects. We are repeatedly displaced between danger and death.

I am the older sister and my family is a trust in my neck, and I work hard to ask for help in our survival.

since the beginning of the war, from October 7 until today. We spent the first week of the war in Gaza. During this short period, we were exposed to many bombings and damages, and we were hit by rocket fragments as a result of close-in shelling. After that, On October 13, they asked us to forcefully evacuate the area due to its danger and go to southern Gaza. We went to Al-Shifa Hospital while we were living in a nightmare, extreme danger, and a devastating war. We remained there for a week and were subjected to siege and bombing. We did not have mattresses or pillows for our heads, and we had no drinking water، no Food, and nothing. We were sleeping on the ground between the feet of passers-by and the blood of the wounded. We were suffering from the pollution of the place. This is my picture in Al-Shifa Hospital, sleeping on the floor.

Since the war on Gaza began, it has lost almost everything In January, I lost 33 members of my family in one second to a single missile that ended their lives. I also lost my only uncle who died due to not receiving treatment and I do not want to lose anyone else.

As for me, I am a laboratory doctor, a graphic and website designer, and also a private lessons teacher. Before October 7th, I was living a beautiful and peaceful life with my family، I had ambition and many dreams. I was working in the Al-Shifa laboratory, which was bombed, and I lost my job there, also I had an office for private design work that was also bombed. What happened to us is a nightmare. I lost everything at once, my home and my work in all its aspects, my dreams and ambitions, and I became without a home, work, and clothes because we did not take anything from our house before it was bombed.

Before the war, my life was about successes and achievements. This picture is one of my design works that was displayed in one of the streets of Norway for a BBQ restaurant. I had a dream to reach the international level with my works and successes, but the occupation killed me and my dreams and everything before I arrived.

My work also designs perfume posters for a Saudi store, and I lost all of my work due to the war.

But my mother suffered the most, who had a hysterectomy 4 days before the war because of a tumor. She was sleeping on the floor and using a contaminated bathroom, which led to infection of the wound, bleeding, health complications, and a loss of 25 kilograms of weight. To this day, we have not been able to know the outcome of the tumor that was inside the uterus, and my mother also suffers from platinum in her spine due to the weakness of her vertebrae. She also suffers from a herniated disc in her neck, which poses a threat to her spine, She needs urgent surgery and is suffering from a lot of pain because she sleeps on the floor instead of a medical bed.

My mother also suffers from rheumatoid arthritis, asthma, and most importantly multiple sclerosis, in addition to being diagnosed with undifferentiated connective tissue disease and heart failure. She suffers from urinary excretion disorders, and needs urgent travel for treatment. Here is the medical report and diagnosis on her condition.

My father also suffers from heart disease, high blood pressure, and diabetes. Two months before the war, he underwent heart surgery due to 99% blockage of the arteries. His heart stopped twice during the operation. He stayed in intensive care for a month, and because of the war, he did not receive treatment for 8 months, which led to a severe deterioration in his health condition, and he suffered a severe heart attack that would have ended his life. He was unable to receive treatment due to the lack of medical equipment. My father took an echocardiogram on the floor without the patient’s bed.

My father also suffered a serious stroke a month ago due to his health condition deteriorating significantly. Please help me save their lives. I don't want to lose my father as I lost my only uncle who died in the war due to illness and not receiving treatment. I spend long hours with my father in his non-existent treatment. There is no medicine, no care, no treatment, no lunch, no meat, no protein. What we eat includes packaged foods, which cause many diseases.

My heart is torn apart in pain. My parents are the most precious things in my life and they are my whole life, I am the eldest daughter of my family and I have all the responsibility on my shoulders. I can no longer bear all this oppression and pain. Please help me, I need you, You are my only hope to save me and my family.

You can donate to DR Dalia and Her Family in GoFundme: click here

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

☠️ Maybe Later

Maybe Later: After fighting on Marineford with your captain, you wake up on the Polar Tang injured. When you try to wash the blood from marines and pirates alike, you can’t quite reach the areas you need to given your injuries. The doctor that patched you up decides to help.

Warnings: Gore, Talk of Death, Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

To Note: Trafalgar Law x Female!Reader, I named you Tulip.

Word Count: ~4.4k

You come to with a start, your eyes struggling to open. The room swims into focus—a metal ceiling, dim lights casting a sterile glow. You try to shift, but pain lances through your back, immobilizing you. You’re on your stomach, naked, and the sting of antiseptic fills your nostrils.

“Where... where am I?” Your voice croaks out, dry and weak. The last thing you remember is Luffy's screams, Ace's lifeless body, and charging for them. Then nothing. A memory of blistering pain erupting on your back flickers into your mind but doesn't linger.

A figure moves into view—dark curly hair under a yellow and orange hat. It’s Ikkaku. A concentrated look upon her face keeps her attention, hands gentle as they tend to the wound on your back.

“You’re on the Polar Tang,” she replies without glancing over to you. Her voice is calm but tinged with an underlying urgency. “You took a nasty hit from Akainu. Severe burn injury on your back and over your spine.”

The memory floods back—Akainu’s magma fist, the searing agony as it punched through your flesh. Bone. You grit your teeth against the residual pain and screaming nerves.

“You passed out from the pain,” Ikkaku continues. “You’re lucky your spine wasn’t completely ruined, otherwise you’d’ve lost your ability to operate your lower body.”

“Luffy... what about Luffy?” you rasp, knowing all too well the fate of Ace. All that work only for Ace to die.

Ikkaku’s hands pause for a moment before she resumes her work. “He’s still unconscious. We’re keeping an eye on him.”

The thought of Luffy lying somewhere in a similar state fills you with a mix of dread and relief. At least he’s alive.

“I need to get up,” you mutter, attempting to push yourself off the gurney.

Ikkaku’s hand presses firmly on your shoulder, stopping you cold. “Don’t even think about it,” she says sharply. “You are just out of surgery! You need at least three more hours for your spine to finish bonding before you can move safely. Otherwise, you might paralyze yourself! You are lucky that you still have vertebrae and nerves left!”

You whimper, a sharp sound of frustration mixed with agony. The pain surges, radiating from the burn wound and spreading through every corner of your back. Reluctantly, you stop moving, surrendering to her orders. With great reluctance.

Ikkaku's grip on your shoulder softens as she resumes her work. “I’ve debrided the wound post surgery,” she explains, voice clinical. “Removed all the dead tissue. Now I’m applying a synthetic material over it to protect the flesh that isn't too far gone. Most of the flesh that made direct contact with Akainu’s fist was incinerated. It’s going to feel strange for a while, but it'll speed up the healing process and you'll have 'skin' covering your spine again.”

Her fingers glide over your stinging back, placing a cool, gel-like substance over the raw skin. The contrast between the burn’s heat and the synthetic coolness is startling and you dig your fingers into the gurney beneath you to force yourself to stay still. You let out a shuddering breath, focusing on Ikkaku’s touch rather than the lingering pain.

“How bad is it Ikkaku?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Bad,” she admits. “But not irreversible. Law has some new advanced medical techniques. We’re doing everything we can, it won't be the same, but you'll at least still have function.”

You nod slightly, though even that small movement sends ripples of discomfort through you. Silence stretches between you and Ikkaku, filled only by her quiet murmurs as she continues her treatment.

Minutes tick by like hours until Ikkaku finally steps back, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Alright,” she says softly. “The worst part is done for now.”

“How long?” you ask, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“Three hours,” she replies. “Three hours for the material to integrate and start the healing process. Then you can take a shower to wash off all this blood. Just avoid applying excessive pressure to the area. Until then, do not move.”

Your eyes snap open at that, taking in your surroundings once more—the metallic walls of the Polar Tang's infirmary now smeared with streaks of red where you had thrashed earlier. The scent of blood mixes with antiseptic, a reminder of how close things had been.

“Blood’s everywhere,” you mutter, almost to yourself.

Ikkaku nods grimly. “Yeah, it got pretty messy when we brought you in. You were thrashing and kept breaking open cauterized parts of your back… but don’t worry about that now. Focus on resting.”

You close your eyes again, this time willingly surrendering to the stillness that beckons you. Time stretches and blurs; seconds bleed into minutes into what feels like an eternity. Luffy's screams, the explosive sounds of gunfire, screeching metal. You find yourself slipping into memories. The chaos of Marineford floods back into your mind in a rush.

Gunfire, screams, and the acrid stench of blood mingled with smoke. You remember the searing heat of Akainu's magma fist before it had even touched your shirt, the blinding pain that followed, and the desperate struggle to stay conscious. Luffy's frantic cries for Ace echoed in your ears, a haunting reminder of your failure.

“Tulip!” Luffy had shouted amidst the chaos, his voice a lifeline as you stumbled through the battlefield. But you had been too slow. The sight of Ace's lifeless body is burned into your mind, a permanent scar.

You vaguely recall Law's voice cutting through the haze of pain and battle. “I’ve got her,” he had said, his tone clipped with urgency. He hoisted you over his shoulder with a gentleness that seemed out of place in the middle of such violence and chaos.

Jinbe’s presence loomed nearby. He had just landed on the deck of the Polar Tang, cradling Luffy in one arm while passing you off to Law with the other. “She’s too stubborn to die,” Jinbe had grumbled, a rare hint of emotion cracking his usually stoic demeanor.

Law laid you on your stomach on the operating table, his hands surprisingly steady as he assessed your injuries. “Hold on, Tulip,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “I'll fix this,”

The sound of surgical instruments clinking together was oddly comforting amidst the backdrop of battle noise still ringing in your ears. Familiar. Law worked swiftly, his focus unwavering despite the urgency surrounding him. You always admire him for that.

“Ikkaku,” he had called out, never taking his eyes off your wound. “Prep for debridement, I'm going to have begin working on Luffy immediately.”

You barely remember her quick nod and rapid movements as she prepared the necessary tools. The pain was almost unbearable as they worked to clean and treat your burns, but their voices—calm and controlled—some how managed to keep your mind from breaking.

“We’re doing everything we can,” Ikkaku had reassured you as she began scraping at the edges of your wound. Sharp, burning. A chilly burn had entered your bloodstream and memories faded.

Now, back in the present, their words echo in your mind as you lay there on the gurney. The room around you fades into a blur once more as exhaustion pulls you under again.

The battle at Marineford may be over, but its echoes remain—etched into your skin and seared into your memory. Marring Luffy. You drift between wakefulness and sleep, caught in a limbo where past horrors intermingle with present pain. Is Luffy going to ever recover?

You push yourself up, muscles trembling, feeling every but of the synthetic material adhered to your back shift and move. Just like skin. Ikkaku hovers beside you, her eyes scanning you with a meticulous intensity. She’s making sure the material has bonded correctly, fingers grazing the edges of your wound with light touches.

"How does it feel?" she asks, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

You wince as you shift. "Like a thousand tiny needles are prickling my back," you admit, voice hoarse but steadier than it had been.

She nods, not unsympathetic, just clinical. "That's normal. It means the material is integrating well. You'll feel phantom pains occasionally. Your nerves are still adjusting and your body hasn't realized that you lost that skin yet. Well… it shouldn’t, it should just integrate the synth material like it is your own natural flesh healing.”

Her hand leaves your back, and she reaches for a lab coat draped over a nearby chair. She hands it to you without a word, her expression softening as she watches you struggle into it. The fabric feels rough against your still-bloodied skin but offers some semblance of modesty.

You take a deep breath and push yourself off the gurney and too your feet, legs shaky but functional. The room tilts slightly before steadying itself around you. Ikkaku moves to support you, but you wave her off with a weak smile.

"I got it," you murmur, taking tentative steps forward. Each movement sends twinges through your back, reminders of the damage inflicted by Akainu’s magma fist. Like you’ll every forget.

Ikkaku follows close behind, ready to catch you if you falter. "Take it slow," she advises. "No sudden movements."

Your feet shuffle against the cold metal floor of the infirmary, each step a fight you struggle to complete without a threatening wobble. The scent of antiseptic and detergent mingles with the lingering tang of blood—nauseating.

"How’s Luffy?" You ask again, needing to hear more than just reassurances.

Ikkaku hesitates before answering. "He's stable for now," she says quietly. "But he’s not out of the woods yet."

A wave of determination washes over you, lending strength to your wobbly legs. "I need to see him."

Ikkaku steps in front of you, blocking your path with a firm but gentle hand on your shoulder. “No, not yet, Tulip," she insists. "You need to rest and recover more before going anywhere. I'd suggest taking a shower first, it'll make you feel better and the gentle heat will help the synthetic material bond better to your bone and tissue."

“I’ll take a shower,” you murmur, your voice tinged with reluctant resignation. “But I’m seeing Luffy afterward.”

Ikkaku’s eyes narrow, a stern glint in her gaze. “If you refuse to rest, I’ll tell Law,” she warns, her tone a blend of concern and frustration. “You know how he gets when someone ignores medical advice, certainly you.”

A small smirk tugs at your lips. “Go ahead,” you retort, your voice steady despite the pain radiating through your back. “Law isn’t my captain.”

Ikkaku sighs, shaking her head slightly. “You’re impossible, you know that?” You hold the lab coat tighter around your body.

“Law knew what he was getting into when he decided to take me on as a patient,” you say, glancing at Ikkaku. Your voice carries a hint of defiance mixed with resignation. “It's not the first time we've been through this.”

Ikkaku’s expression softens slightly, though she still looks concerned. “You’re right,” she concedes, stepping aside to let you pass. “But don’t push yourself too hard, Tulip. Law—you know how Law is.”

You nod, appreciating her concern but knowing that nothing will keep you from seeing Luffy. You promised to take care of him. The narrow corridor stretches ahead, its metal walls reflecting the dim lighting. Creaking from water pressure and humming from technology.

You shuffle into the bathing room, a sterile, tiled space with several communal shower heads lining the walls. The lab coat slips from your shoulders, revealing the smattering of bruises and cuts that paint your body. You had been high on adrenaline at Marineford, only now do you feel the full extent of what you've endured. Every movement pulls at your skin, every shift of bone alters you to bruises you didn’t know you had.

You glance at a mirror set into the wall. The sight stops you cold. Your back, once mostly unblemished, is now marred by a large, fist-sized black patch crusted with blood and other fluids. Akainu would forever be imprinted on your body. The edges of the wound are inflamed, the skin around it angry and raw, a stark contrast to the rest of your flesh.

Swallowing thickly, you step closer to the mirror, eyes tracing every jagged line and swollen contour of the wound. "Dammit," you mutter under your breath, your fingers trembling as they hover over the injured area. The strange synthetic material replacing your skin. You don’t touch it—can't even reach it—but just seeing it up close is enough to bring the memory crashing back.

You force yourself to look away from the mirror and hobble over to one of the shower heads. Each step is a battle against gravity and the needle like pain prickling at your spine, but you make it. Reaching out, you turn the knob with a shaky hand. Water bursts forth in a cascade, steam filling the room almost instantly.

The water hits your skin like needles at first—sharp and unrelenting—but soon morphs into something more tolerable. You brace yourself against the wall, letting the stream wash away layers of grime and dried blood. Red-tinted water swirls around your feet, vanishing down the drain in ribbons.

You tilt your head back, closing your eyes as you let the warmth further seep into you. It’s not comfort—nothing can be that right now—but it’s something. The heat softens some of the tension knotted in your muscles and eases some of the ache radiating from your wounds. Ikkaku might have spoken about the heat helping the synthetic material bond to your spine, but it also lessens the sharp prickles.

Your hands move slowly, carefully scrubbing away the dried blood crusted on your chest and arms. The water turns a murky mix of black and red at your feet, swirling down the drain. Each stroke is mechanical, as you try to cleanse yourself of the battlefield's remnants. In an almost detached way, you are sure not all of the blood is yours alone. The metallic scent of blood mixes with the sterile smell of the soap. It only makes your stomach roll in your belly.

The heat from the water softens the grime but not the memory of Akainu’s searing attack. You grit your teeth as you attempt to turn your back against the shower spray, but the sensitivity is too intense. The water pressure feels like swords stabbing into your raw flesh.

You sigh in frustration and resort to using your hands, gently swiping around the edges of your back. Despite your best efforts, you can't reach all of your back—let alone the wound itself—without twisting painfully. Cleaning your back isn't going to happen.

The shower room door creaks open, and you hear footsteps approaching. You glance over your shoulder to see Law entering, a towel wrapped around his hips. His expression is a mix of concern and irritation. And exasperation because he is not the least bit surprised.

“You're supposed to be resting,” he says, voice firm but not unkind.

You bite your lip, glancing down at the murky water swirling around your feet. "I'm covered in blood, Law," you murmur, frustration edging your voice. "Not just mine—dead Marines, dead pirates. I need it off."

He doesn’t respond immediately, just steps closer, the towel slipping from his hips to pool around his feet. You quickly turn away, focusing on the cuts riddling your chest and arms instead of the sight of his naked body. Painfully as beautiful as you remember. Your fingers itch to trace the tattoos on his chest.

Law’s own fingers brush against your shoulder, wiping away some blood that clings stubbornly to your skin. You suck in a breath, feeling the warmth of his body so close behind you. The sensation sends prickles throughout your body, mingling with the residual pain.

"You’re never going to get all the blood off at this rate," he remarks, his fingers still ghosting across your shoulders.

You fire back almost instantly. "I was in the middle of washing it off when you came in."

A heavy silence falls between you two, filled only by the steady stream of water hitting the tiles and swirling down the drain. Your muscles tense as you feel Law’s forehead gently rest against your shoulder.

"I had to rebuild part of your spine, Tulip," he confesses quietly.

"I was trying to save my captain's family, Law," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. The weight of your words hangs in the air, the enormity of Marineford pressing down on you both. But you don’t argue further. You know there’s no point. The damage is done.

Law remains silent, his forehead still resting against your shoulder. You feel his breath, warm and steady, as he takes a moment to compose himself.

"I know," he finally says, his voice a low murmur that reverberates through your body. "But now you need to let me take care of you."

You nod slightly, not trusting yourself to speak. Law’s fingers move again, this time more deliberately, as he begins to carefully wash the blood from your back. His touch is gentle but firm, each movement measured and precise. A reflection of his medical side.

His fingers graze the edges of your wound with an almost reverent care. You feel every stroke, every slight pressure as he works meticulously to clean the area without causing further pain. The sensation is both soothing and agonizing—a reminder of how carefully he can yet so close to what you silently wish for the darkest of nights.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” Law mutters under his breath, though there’s no real anger in his tone.

You let out a soft laugh that quickly turns into a wince as his fingers brush against a particularly sensitive spot. “Look who’s talking,” you retort weakly.

Law’s lips curve into a small smile that you can’t see but feel against your shoulder. “Fair point,” he concedes.

As the last of the blood is washed away, Law’s touch changes subtly. His fingers linger longer on your skin, tracing patterns that have nothing to do with medical necessity.

Law’s hands slide around your hips, one settling against your stomach while the other trails fingers down to your pelvis and against your inner thigh. His fingers are slow, as if savoring every moment. The warmth of his palm against your thigh sends a rush of heat through your body, and you lean back into his embrace, your breathing growing heavier.

“Don’t start anything you’re not willing to finish,” you whisper, your voice almost muted by the spray of the shower.

Law’s lips press against your neck, his breath warm and steady. He begins to kiss and nibble at your skin, each touch igniting sparks that radiate outward. You squirm against his chest, a soft groan escaping your lips as his fingers slide between your legs to glide through your folds. The sensation is electric, each stroke drawing out more and more gentle bursts of pleasure that fight to overtake lingering aches.

Your hand moves to cover Law's, pressing against your stomach. Your fingers clench around his, feeling the strength and warmth that are so intimately familiar. Each touch from him sends waves of sensation through you, both comforting and electrifying.

"Law," you breathe, your voice thick with emotion and something deeper, something only he could bring out.

Law's grip tightens slightly in response, a silent acknowledgment of your words. "You better tell me if it becomes too much," he warns, his voice low and husky, tinged with concern and desire.

A moan escapes your lips as his fingers continue their gentle exploration, drawing out sensations that make your body hum with pleasure. You twist your head to look up at him, your eyes meeting his with an intensity that speaks volumes. "Law," you breathe out again, this time more insistently.

For a brief moment, your shared and murky past is swept away to be forgotten. His dark eyes lock onto yours, filled with an unspoken promise. The connection between you feels almost tangible, charged with the weight of everything left unsaid. Always unsaid, but never forgotten.

Then he bends down, closing the distance between your lips and his. The kiss is fierce yet tender, filled with a hunger that matches your own. His lips move against yours with a rhythm that leaves you breathless, his tongue exploring your lips and mouth as if he intends to discover you all over again.

Your free hand reaches up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. The taste of him is intoxicating, each movement of his lips sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His fingers continue their journey between your legs, the slow, deliberate strokes driving you to the edge.

"Tulip," he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and ragged. "I need to know if—"

"Don't stop," you cut him off, your voice raw with need. "Please, you won't hurt me."

His response is immediate; he kisses you harder, his fingers quickening their pace. Swirling around your clit with precise strokes. You shudder in his embrace and whimper deliciously. The shower's spray mingles with the heat between you two, creating an atmosphere that's both steamy and electrifying.

Your body arches into his palm as waves of pleasure build within you, each touch from Law pushing you closer to release. You can feel the tension coiling tight in your lower belly, ready to snap at any moment. Gods, he knows how to play your body just right.

Your fingers tighten in Law's hair, your nails grazing his scalp. He groans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. His tongue laves against yours, each stroke igniting drunken sparks that race through your veins. The intensity of the kiss consumes you, leaving no room for anything else but the sensation of his lips on yours and the relentless rhythm of his fingers between your legs.

Your gasps and whimpers become more frequent, each one escaping into the space between your lips. Law devours every sound you make, his mouth never leaving yours. His fingers slide deeper into you, their movements confident and unerring. You can feel the slick heat building inside you, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

“Law,” you moan against his lips, your voice trembling with desire. “Please…”

His fingers quicken their pace, each stroke sending you closer to the brink. His other hand slides up your stomach, caressing the sensitive skin until it cups your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple. The dual sensations make your breath hitch, a soft cry escaping your lips.

Your body responds to his touch instinctively, hips moving in time with his fingers. You’re lost in the sensation, the steamy room narrowing down to just you and Law, the heat of the shower, and the intense pleasure coursing through you.

His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, “I’ve got you.” His words are a promise and a command all at once.

Your fingers dig into his hair, holding on as waves of pleasure build inside you. The tension coiling tighter with each stroke until it’s almost unbearable. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation.

“Law,” you gasp again, your voice breaking. “I’m so close…”

His response is a low growl of encouragement. “Let go,” he murmurs against your skin. “I want to feel you come around my fingers, flower.”

With that final push, the tension snaps, and your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your body shakes against his chest as pleasure radiates out from your rippling cunt. Your muscles contract around his fingers, drawing them deeper as wave after wave of sensation floods through you.

You sob his name, the sound echoing off the tiled walls as he continues to work you through your release. Each tremor of pleasure is heightened by his relentless touch until you're left gasping for breath, completely spent.

Your legs feel weak beneath you, but Law’s strong arms hold you up, supporting your weight as you come down from your high. He’s there with you every step of the way, holding you firmly against his body to keep you steady.

As the last shudder runs through you, he slowly withdraws his fingers from your clenched thighs and wraps that arm around your waist. You lean back into him, breathing heavily as you regain your bearings.

When you finally feel steady enough to stand on your own again, you reach out to turn off the water. The sudden silence feels almost deafening after the rush of the shower and the sounds of your shared passion.

You slowly turn around to face Law, water dripping from both of you onto the tiled floor. His eyes meet yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. One of his hands comes up to cradle your bruised face gently.

“You look like you had the ever-loving shit beaten out of you,” he mutters, his voice a dry mixture of concern and amusement.

A strained laugh escapes your lips, raw and unrefined. “You should see the other guy,” you manage to joke, despite the pinpricks still stabbing away at your spine.

Law’s thumb traces the scabbed-over cuts on your face with a tenderness that contradicts his harsh words. Each touch is careful, as if he’s trying to memorize every line and curve marred by battle. The pads of his fingers glide over your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

“Does it hurt?” he asks quietly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Not as much as it did,” you reply, your voice softer now. You lean into his touch, savoring the brief moment of intimacy amid the chaos.

His fingers continue their exploration, tracing the contours of your face with an almost reverent care. How aggravating that you missed it this much because now all you wish for is more.

"Are you going to leave me hanging?" you ask, your voice carrying a playful edge despite the exhaustion weighing down on you. Law lets out an exasperated sigh, his breath warm against your cheek. You never change.

"Maybe later, flower, you've got a lot of healing up to do."

Date Published: 9/5/24

Last Edit: 9/5/24

Trafalgar D. Water Law Masterlist

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

hi i’m so in love with the way you write roy omg!! i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is maybe the team physio and she has a daughter like around phoebes age? just like fluffy pining roy <33333

Take Your Daughter to Work Day

Roy Kent x Mom!Reader

1.9k words

Warnings: Language

I'm such a sucker for pining Roy!! And potential step-dad Roy? Oh my heart 😫

“Good morning, Mister Roy!”

Roy wasn’t expecting to see your daughter sitting in the corner of the treatment room when he walked in with your morning coffee. Despite his surprise, he offered her a smile as he handed you a to-go cup.

“Morning, Bevs,” he responded, deciding that your kid was the politest one in Phoebe’s class. He turned to you. “Didn’t know it was Take Your Daughter to Work Day. Would’ve brought her a hot chocolate.”

With a sigh, you shook your head, making sure Beverly had turned back to the book in her hands. “School was out today and tomorrow for some conference the teachers have,” you explained in a low voice. “And my mum’s still recovering from her surgery, and I couldn’t get a sitter, so Bee’s with me today.”

Roy couldn’t help the way his eyebrows flew up. “Her dad wasn’t able to help out? Thought he worked from home. It’s not like Bev needs constant supervision.”

Your grip tightened around your cup as you rolled your eyes. “It’s not his day,” you whispered, your voice full of annoyance. “Which apparently means he’s not a parent until Friday afternoon.”

“Fucking twat,” Roy snorted. He immediately remembered that there was a child in the room. “Shit. Sorry.”

The laugh that flew out of your mouth sent a shiver down his spine, especially when it was punctuated by your hand touching his bicep. “You’re fine,” you assured him, giving his arm a squeeze before letting go. “It’s completely true, anyways. Even Bee knows that, although maybe in less colorful language.”

Roy returned your smile as he watched you bring your coffee to your lips. “Right, right.”

He wondered if you knew he fancied you. You had to know. He brought you coffee every morning, was always on time for his sessions with you despite his reputation for chronic lateness, he somehow always managed to be the one to bring Phoebe to playdates with Beverly, even when his sister was available, and he knew the way he looked at you was rarely, if ever, professional. In most cases, he’d have asked you out already.

But he knew that, as a single mum, your situation was different from most cases. He saw it with his sister. You had to prioritize the wonderful little human that sat in the corner of the treatment room who called him “Mister Roy” and always gave him a hug and thanked him for rides home from school on those days that you were desperate for help. He also knew that asking you out meant more than drinks and straight to bed; it would be something real, something he’d have to commit to. And he definitely was interested in that; he just didn’t know if you thought so.

Sam Obisanya poked his head into the room, interrupting the silence. “Good morning.” His eyes found your daughter. “Oh, hey there, Beverly!”

Your daughter waved. “Good morning, Mister Sam!” Roy found it adorable the way she always called adults “Mister” or “Miss”.

“Hey, Sam,” you sighed. “Ready?”

Sam nodded and plopped himself down on your table. Roy saw your eyes shift over to Beverly. He could see it on your expression: She’s going to be so bored.

Without a second thought, Roy approached your daughter, taking his time to crouch down in front of her in spite of his knee. “Oi, Bevvie.” She looked up. “I know you’d probably rather read your book, but I’ve got all these papers in my office, they need to be put in alphabetical order. Think you could come help me with that? And maybe after you could come out on the pitch, help us with training. Then we could grab some lunch with your mum.” He looked over his shoulder at you. “Would that be alright?”

For a moment you thought you were going to cry. Fuck, Roy Kent was such a nice guy. If he wasn’t a gorgeous retired professional footballer, you’d have wanted him to ask you out ages ago. Or hell, you’d do it yourself. He was better with Bev than her own dad sometimes.

“That would be great,” you managed to choke out as you got started with Sam. “Bee?”

Beverly was already out of her seat, taking Roy’s hand in hers, book forgotten on her chair. “Can I really go out on the pitch?” she asked Roy, eyes glittering with excitement.

“Fuck yeah,” Roy assured her as he led her to the door. “You can even yell at Jamie Tartt if you want.”

As the pair passed by on their way out, you shook your head at Roy, smiling. “Thank you,” you mouthed.

With his free hand, he gently touched the small of your back. You wondered if he could feel you shiver in response. “Anytime,” he whispered in your ear. He turned his attention back to Beverly. “Let’s grab you a hot chocolate first, alright?”

~

After a morning of work, you made your way to the coaches’ office, where Beverly was sitting at Roy’s desk, drawing a picture while Roy talked with Nate and Beard. He lit up when he saw you.

“Ready for lunch?” he asked in place of a greeting.

“Sure.” You walked over to Bev and looked over her shoulder at her artwork. It was a drawing of her and Roy on the football pitch. You ruffled her hair, taking note of the whistle she wore around her neck. “Bee, did you thank the coaches for letting you hang out this morning?”

She jumped out of Roy’s seat and approached each coach, giving them a hug in turn. “Thank you, Mister Beard. Thank you, Mister Nate.” She gazed up at Roy with adoration on her little face. “Thank you, Mister Roy.” Instead of a hug, she offered him her drawing. “This is for you. For being so nice to me today.”

He blinked rapidly as he took the picture. “This is fucking great. Thanks.” Immediately, he went and pinned it on the corkboard behind his desk, where there were already several pictures made by Phoebe hanging up. He looked at you as the other coaches made themselves look busy. “Called my sister. Phoebe’s at my mum’s, said Bev’s more than welcome to hang out there this afternoon. And I can drive her home when I pick up Pheebs. She can go over tomorrow, too.”

“Oh my God, thank you.” Without thinking, you threw your arms around Roy’s neck, pulling him into a hug.

After his brain stopped malfunctioning at your touch, he let his arms wrap around your waist, returning the embrace. Over your shoulder, he could see Beard eying the two of you with raised eyebrows and offering him a cartoonish thumbs-up while Nate watched with a wistful smile. Despite Roy never saying a word, the other coaches were painfully aware of his crush on you.

Once Roy recovered from the joy of being hugged by you, he drove you and Beverly to a nearby chip shop, where he insisted on treating the two of you.

“Come on, Roy,” you pleaded as he shoved your hand away from the credit card machine. “It’s the least I can do after you helped with Bev.”

He shook his head. “Fuck no. My mum would kill me if I let a woman pay for a meal that I invited her to.” He offered you a smile as the machine read his card. “When you invite me to lunch, I’ll let you pay. Deal?”

Your heart skipped a beat. Did that mean he wanted you to ask him to grab lunch sometime? “Fine. Next one’s on me,” you conceded, hoping you didn’t sound too excited at the thought.

As the three of you sat at an outside table and ate your lunch, you couldn’t keep your eyes off Roy. The way he looked Beverly in the eye when she spoke to him and gave her his full attention wasn’t something you were used to seeing. You didn’t date too much, and you very, very rarely introduced men to your daughter. On the couple of occasions where she did meet the guy you were dating, it was never like this. Sure, they were polite and nice to her, but you could tell it was only because they were trying to make a good impression on you. None of those men stuck around much longer after meeting your daughter. And you didn’t really want them to.

But Roy was so genuine. He asked her questions and was fully invested in what she told him, and he even let her steal some of his chips after she’d finished her own. You know most of this came from his own experience as Phoebe’s devoted uncle, but you knew it was also because he was just a genuinely kind person under his gruff surface. And it only made your silly little crush grow.

As the three of you climbed back into Roy’s giant car after lunch, Roy showed you a text he’d just gotten on his mobile. “From my sister.”

Does Bev want to sleep over? I can take them both to mum’s in the morning.

“Oh, that would be great,” you said. You turned around in your seat. “Bee, d’you want to sleep over with Phoebe tonight?”

The squealing coming from the backseat gave you your answer.

By the time you arrived at Roy’s mum’s house, Beverly was so excited she barely looked at you as she leaped out of the car and sprinted to the door, where a bouncing Phoebe waited for her. You and Roy followed and said quick hellos to his mother. You gave Beverly a goodbye hug and kiss, thanked Roy’s mum, and followed Roy back to the car.

Roy opened your door for you before climbing in on his side. The short ride back to Nelson Road was much quieter without an eight-year-old chattering away in the back seat.

“Thanks again,” you finally said. “I really appreciate you helping out.”

He shook his head. “Don’t mention it. Figure this way you can focus on work, and Bev can hang with Pheebs.” His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “Plus, now you’ve got a free evening.” He glanced sideways at you. “Got any plans?”

You shrugged, wringing your hands a bit at the interest in his voice. “Probably just take myself out to dinner. Don’t usually get to do that during the week.”

Roy nodded. “Don’t suppose you’d want some company?”

Surely, you’d heard him wrong. “Company?” you echoed.

“Only if you want,” he quickly clarified. “I know alone time’s important; my sister really likes relaxing with a glass of wine by herself, but I mean…” He shrugged, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “Might be nice. Sharing a meal together that doesn’t come in a Styrofoam box.”

“Are you going to let me pay for this one? Since I let you pay for lunch?”

A snort flew out of his nose as he pulled into his spot in the parking lot. “Fuck no. I never let a woman pay for a first date.” He offered you a small smile as the two of you climbed out of his car and met behind it. “Pick you up at six?”

In spite of your racing heart, you folded your arms coolly, returning his grin. “Sounds good. Just anything but fish and chips.”

The sound of his laughter made your heart dance. “Deal.”

[talkethtothehandeth]

As much as I agree that people who have EDS shouldn’t talk over people who have worse disabilities than us, and as firmly as I believe that disabled people should let other disabled people speak about their struggles without comparing it to EDS, I need you to know that having EDS, especially my type— the one you find more often than other types, is not just “being bendy”.

I was diagnosed with EDS when I was a baby. I was very lucky, and was able to receive treatment (whether good or bad) quicker than others. However, EDS caused my hip dysplasia, it caused the condition that affected my mobility to the point where I needed three corrective hip surgeries; it was the cause of my bone not forming, I needed a bone donor to aid in correction. I have three long scars on my bikini line where Dr Caroll (from Shriner’s in Utah) cut into me in order to give me a better chance of having less limited mobility.

EDS isn’t just me being able to play bendy straw with my hands, it isn’t just me having to deal with “fake dislocations, it’s subluxations so it’s not that bad”. It caused my scoliosis, it caused my arthritis from my joints going out of place so often. I was diagnosed with osteoarthritis as a child, but as I got older, my arthritis spread to more places. I have burning nerve pain that makes me want to die, I have partial paralysis whenever my body decides to attack me spontaneously, I have dystonia, I have hearing loss, allergic reactions, and pain in every joint in my entire body. From head to toe, all of my joints, all of my muscles.

EDS is something that has severely impacted and negatively effected my entire body. It took everything from me, it took my already limited mobility, it took my peace, it took my mental health, it took my most beloved hobby ever— riding horses. I cannot sit to play piano, use my hands for my guitar, sit in a chair for more than 30 minutes without my back muscles screaming.

I took 14 pills every single day with multiple prescriptions because of what EDS has caused. I am undiagnosed with something that nearly killed me last year, everyone was preparing for me to die, and it has been dismissed by anxiety or an eating disorder, it is caused by my disease. EDS will affect me for the rest of my life.

EDS isn’t “just” being hyper mobile. This isn’t just a small disease that people go through, it is life altering and life compromising and life threatening from all of the comorbidities that come along with it; it is debilitating, it is isolating, it is pain that cannot be treated with even IV morphine, it is a constant, unrelenting acid rain condition just as many other physical disabilities.

People who have EDS shouldn’t try to play the Sick Olympics, we shouldn’t go to someone’s page and say “I’M JUST AS SICK AND DISABLED AS YOU ARE”. We should take the time to listen to people who have it worse, because so often they get ignored by abled people, they don’t need other disabled people to say that their conditions aren’t worse just because we have it bad. So many people are definitely more disabled than I am, and that absolutely does not erase my struggles.

Every physical disability affects the body in different ways, and every physical disability isn’t necessarily comparable to others. My degenerative arthritis isn’t the same as someone’s ankylosing spondylitis. My joints are fucked and my mobility has been significantly decreased as my disease has progressed. I am not going to compare my knees that will need to be replaced to someone whose spine is literally fusing together. Even though it’s a form of arthritis, it isn’t the same as mine and it isn’t my place to pretend it is.

But someone saying “it’s just hyper mobility” is perpetuating a harmful narrative, because people already don’t believe us, our stuff doesn’t show in labs and it only shows during further and extensive testing that many doctors don’t want to pursue because we’re “faking” or “being over dramatic”, because it isn’t “that bad”, it’s just bendy joints, it’s not debilitating./s It isn’t just being bendy, it is so much more and doesn’t need to be dismissed solely because it isn’t the same or as severe as someone else’s condition. Even if someone does have it worse, it doesn’t mean that EDS isn’t bad, and just because someone has EDS, it doesn’t mean it’s always comparable and needs to be shouted to the world on people’s posts about a completely different situation.

[astrahospital1]

[lovelyeevee234]

My name is Saadiya Masoud. My family and I have endured the horrors of war. Our home in Jabalia, northern Gaza, was bombed, and my husband was severely injured in the chest and legs. He urgently needs to travel abroad for treatment. His health is in a critical state, and he is also deeply affected psychologically, as he witnesses the hardship his family is going through—our struggle to secure daily food and the necessary medicine to ease his pain—feeling helpless in the face of it all.

I have three children: five-year-old twins, Omar and Zein, and my three-year-old daughter, Zeina. At the start of the aggression on Gaza, when our house was hit by a missile, my son Omar was injured in his spine after a pillar collapsed on him. We were barely rescued from the rubble. We were then forced to flee to the south. I, along with my three children, walked on foot, not knowing anything about my husband, as his injuries were severe, and we had no idea which hospital he was taken to. I spent almost a month without any information about my husband, suffering with my children as we slept on the streets, barely managing to find food once a day. After a month of hardship, I heard that some of the injured had been transferred from the north to the Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital. I was fortunate that day to be reunited with my husband. He was exhausted and still had shrapnel in his chest, but unfortunately, no hospital in Gaza could perform the necessary surgery due to a lack of equipment. We moved to live together in a tent shared with three other families at an UNRWA school in Deir al-Balah.

I am pleading with everyone to help us in any way possible. We need pain relief medication for my husband and my son Omar, as well as other medicines to treat skin diseases and rashes that have spread across our bodies due to the lack of cleaning supplies like soap and shampoo. We also need healthy food for our children, who are surviving on unhealthy canned food every day.

Even a few cents could make a huge difference in our lives right now. Your small contribution can help us secure the basic necessities we desperately need. Please, from the bottom of my heart, I ask you to share our story and offer whatever support you can. Every little bit counts, and it will bring us one step closer to relief. Thank you so much for your kindness and generosity.😭🍉🇵🇸

https://gofund.me/42ba47b3

[xixovart]

My name is Saadiya Masoud. My family and I have endured the horrors of war. Our home in Jabalia, northern Gaza, was bombed, and my husband was severely injured in the chest and legs. He urgently needs to travel abroad for treatment. His health is in a critical state, and he is also deeply affected psychologically, as he witnesses the hardship his family is going through—our struggle to secure daily food and the necessary medicine to ease his pain—feeling helpless in the face of it all.

I have three children: five-year-old twins, Omar and Zein, and my three-year-old daughter, Zeina. At the start of the aggression on Gaza, when our house was hit by a missile, my son Omar was injured in his spine after a pillar collapsed on him. We were barely rescued from the rubble. We were then forced to flee to the south. I, along with my three children, walked on foot, not knowing anything about my husband, as his injuries were severe, and we had no idea which hospital he was taken to. I spent almost a month without any information about my husband, suffering with my children as we slept on the streets, barely managing to find food once a day. After a month of hardship, I heard that some of the injured had been transferred from the north to the Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital. I was fortunate that day to be reunited with my husband. He was exhausted and still had shrapnel in his chest, but unfortunately, no hospital in Gaza could perform the necessary surgery due to a lack of equipment. We moved to live together in a tent shared with three other families at an UNRWA school in Deir al-Balah.

I am pleading with everyone to help us in any way possible. We need pain relief medication for my husband and my son Omar, as well as other medicines to treat skin diseases and rashes that have spread across our bodies due to the lack of cleaning supplies like soap and shampoo. We also need healthy food for our children, who are surviving on unhealthy canned food every day.

Even a few cents could make a huge difference in our lives right now. Your small contribution can help us secure the basic necessities we desperately need. Please, from the bottom of my heart, I ask you to share our story and offer whatever support you can. Every little bit counts, and it will bring us one step closer to relief. Thank you so much for your kindness and generosity.🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸😭😭

https://gofund.me/42ba47b3

you hear the stories of palestinians and their suffering. what will you do? will you claim that a five year old boy doesn’t deserve to be treated and rescued, because of the actions of men that died long before he was born? that a father of three beautiful children deserves to be left helpless and wounded because you can’t bear the thought of hamas? will you let them die, or will you step up and do something about this genocide? just posting about these people can help. anything helps.