#and it was even a prednisone day :/

[kirby-the-gorb]

[petiolata]

Say what you will about prednisone but being on a high dosage of it gave me the strange experience of actually being awake when I wake up....like hitting a switch to go from off to on.

Just alert and fully functioning upon waking. Absolutely bizarre. I miss that now that I'm tapering down. On the other hand, being able to sleep more than 4 hours is nice.

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Dog has a swollen lymph node. Just one for now. Which means her cancer is getting worse already. The longer this goes on, the more detached I feel from reality.

[mars-ipan]

man how do people deal with the constant unceasing hunger. this sounds like a shitpost but actually if this keeps up it may be my telltale heart

[mothmanns]

MAD

[xviruserrorx]

I really do hate when I know I'm right about something and no one listens to me

[cesium-sheep]

okay all my (non-craft) books are in my room and in some semblance of order. and also inexplicably a centipede. (she didn't get to stay. I do not like centipedes even though I otherwise love weird squiggle line animals.)

[thatskindasapphic]

Taking a steroid pulse to hopefully get my pain flare up under control. Lets hope this actually helps and doesn't make me feel awful 👍🏻

[thebibliosphere]

If you feel like talking about it — what’s the *aftermath* of anaphylaxis like? I know that an epipen is just step one, and further treatment and observation follows at a hospital, but I’m curious about what the subjective experience is like in the longer term; whether one can bounce back fairly well or whether there’s lingering unpleasantness.

So with the caveat that everyone experiences things differently (and putting this under a cut because I don't want to trigger anyone):

After epi is administered, you're usually put on a cocktail of drugs ranging from several different IV antihistamines (typically a mix of h1 and h2 histamine blockers and a giant whack of benadryl), anti-nausea meds, a beta-agonist to assist with breathing, and a shit-whack of steroids.

Once you've been stable for a few hours and discharged, you'll be told to watch for symptoms for up to 72 hours, which is the period in which a biphasic reaction can happen. (For me, it's always within 20 minutes to 8 hours after rescue medication is administered if I'm going to slip back into an allergic response, but everyone is different.)

Depending on your symptoms, you'll sometimes be told to take an antihistamine for up to 72 hours (if you're not already taking one daily), but the one thing they always send you home with is a steroid like prednisone. I usually need a 5-7 day dose because I need to taper off it or my adrenals crash, but some people get a 3-day dose and come off it with no problems.

Body-wise, it's a draining experience, and the medications often leave you both tired and wired. It's an odd sensation.

Mentally and emotionally, it takes me a lot longer to recover because I've just been smacked with a proverbial mallet of stress hormones and adrenaline, and that can often lead to depressive moods and even rage for some people. The prednisone also heightens emotions, so it's not unusual to be having some of the wildest mood swings of your life while also processing the stress of what just happened.

It takes me a while to bounce back, typically about a week on full rest, but I know some people who claim to feel fine in a couple of days. Couldn't be me, haha. My body goes into hibernation mode for quite a while, and I'll be lying in bed exhausted and jittering like I've had ten espressos, but I don't know how much of that is general anaphylaxis or how much of that is specific to my mast cell disorder.

So, for me, it's a desperate need to sleep, jitteriness, depression, and rapid mood swings from the prednisone followed by a general feeling of blegh. It also takes me about 72 hours to be able to eat solid foods again because of the effect anaphylaxis has on the digestive tract (the esophagus is lined with histamine receptors; that's why some heartburn meds are actually antihistamines.), but I suspect that's my MCAS.

It's basically just a bit shit, lol.

[glorious-spoon]

been broken one too many times [9-1-1 | Buck/Eddie | 1/1]

1K words | Teen arguments | angst | feelings realization | minor buck/tommy | pre-relationship buck/eddie | post-ep for 8x05: Masks

been broken one too many times [on Ao3]

"You need to stop picking at those," Eddie says without glancing up from his phone.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Buck drop his hand. "I wasn't."

"You were."

"Fine," Buck snaps. He shoves his chair back and stands, stiff jerky motions that grate on Eddie's already frayed nerves. "I'll stop picking. You know I'm not a toddler, right? I'm a grown man. I have an EMT certification. You don't have to talk to me like I'm five."

Irritation flares. It's never very far beneath the surface these days. "Okay, fine, pick at your scabs, fuck up your face, see if I care. Since you're a grown man and all."

Buck breathes out hard through his nose. Eddie glances up from the article he hasn't actually been reading this whole time and takes in the look on his face, the very clear fuck you behind his teeth.

Just say it, Eddie thinks, something ugly and eager surging up the back of his throat. Just say it. Pick a fucking fight for once. Maybe that's why he's even here, sitting in Buck's kitchen when he knows damn well he's not good company for anyone right now, including himself. Maybe he's just got to break one last thing, since that's all he seems to do these days.

Buck doesn't say it, of course, because he never gives Eddie the satisfaction of a fight when he really wants one. It makes Eddie want to be mean, makes him think of all the things he could say, all the insecurities he could throw in Buck's face that would make him flinch and recoil and maybe finally think better of letting Eddie hang around. It's not like either of them is exactly having a good time right now.

He doesn't speak. Buck scoffs again, then moves back into the kitchen to refill his coffee cup. It was already more than half-full, so Eddie knows he's just doing it so he doesn't say something he'll regret.

"You want more?" he asks, without turning. It's not exactly a peace offering, but it's close.

"No. Thanks."

Buck nods. Eddie watches him pour coffee and switch the pot off. He pulls the fridge open for a container of creamer—it's a different brand than he used to use, and Eddie wonders if that's Tommy's influence. One of many stupid little details that gets under his skin the way that everything seems to get under his skin these days. Eddie watches as he stirs it into his cup and puts it back in the fridge. He braces his palms on the edge of the counter; his shoulders shift as he breathes in, and then slowly out, and then finally turns back around.

"Sorry," he says, disarmingly rueful. "Tommy's been on me about that too. I'm a little sick of hearing it."

Eddie shrugs, strangling down his own anger. It burns beneath his skin, but that's nothing new. He doesn't need to take it out on Buck, especially not over something this stupid. He'll go home after this, and beat the shit out of the heavy bag in his garage until his knuckles hurt and his chest finally has space to breathe. He'll call his son and endure ten minutes of stilted Facetime conversation while Chris plays on his Switch and refuses to look at him. He'll cope, just like he always does. "Like you said. You're a grown man."

"Yeah, and my face itches," Buck groans, and that's a peace offering, Eddie knows, that wry little note of self-deprecation in his voice.

"It's getting better," Eddie says, and it is: after Billy Boils' makeshift funeral Buck finally went and got a prescription for prednisone like he should have in the first place, and the giant painful-looking cysts have shrunk down until they don't look much worse than a bad breakout of acne. Still not pretty, but not nearly as gruesome as they were a week ago.

"Says you. My own boyfriend still won't kiss me."

Eddie snorts. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't kiss you either with those things on your face. No offense."

"Um, offense absolutely taken," Buck says, but he's smiling a little now as he moves back to the table with his coffee cup. "Besides, that doesn't count. You don't want to kiss me the rest of the time anyway."

"That's—" Eddie stops. His fingers twitch around his coffee cup; he thinks with a sudden vague sort of panic that it's a good thing it's resting on the table right now, because if he was holding it, he'd probably drop it. Broken shards of porcelain and coffee spreading out across the tiles and the words that's not true resting as easily on his tongue as if they've always been there.

"Eddie?" Buck asks, and he becomes aware that he's just been staring fixedly at his half-drunk coffee, that his breathing is coming faster than it should. Jello, he thinks. You're jello, you're jello, you didn't say anything, you're fine, just breathe. It doesn't help. He still feels like his heart and his lungs and maybe a few other internal organs are about to crawl up the back of his throat and spew out red and bloody across the floor.

That's not true, he thinks again, with an incredulity that borders on hysterical. He wants to start laughing, suddenly.

He has to get out of here.

"Yeah," he says, and this time he's the one pushing his chair back, standing jerkily. Buck takes a step back, wary.

"You good?" he asks. His face still does look pretty bad—lumpy and swollen, blotchy red in spots. It's not even a simple straightforward attraction, which would be bad enough. Because Eddie was lying just now, wasn't he—he'd still kiss Buck, even looking like this. He'd still want to, because he's always wanted to.

Fuck.

"Yeah," Eddie says. He grabs his phone, shoves it in his pocket. "I just realized, I have to—" he has no plausible excuse on hand. Chris is in Texas. His grocery shopping is done. His house is clean. His empty life is empty of any good reason to get him out of here, but he needs to get out of here, now. "I have to go."

Buck looks like he wants to keep pushing, but Eddie doesn't give him the chance. He scoops up his keys, moves quickly toward the door, pulls it open.

"I'll see you around, Buck," he says, halfway over his shoulder, and pulls it shut behind him before Buck can answer.

He doesn't feel he starts breathing again all the way down the stairs.

[kirby-the-gorb]

[prettypinkporkchop]

EMBRY CALL X FEM READER

Warnings: mentions of body issues. Health issues. Hospital visit.

Autoimmune diseases plague your life. You are the only plus sized girl on the rez. You feel so down about yourself. Embry makes life worth living.

The beeping of the heart monitor next to you is starting to piss you off. You sigh and move the arm without the IV over your forehead. You feel Embry next to you grab your hand. "Just waiting for the results, baby." His voice is soft.

You started taking new medicines for the inflammation in your body. You haven't had any difference. In fact, it's worse. They had to do x-rays on your back, knees, and hands. They had you twisting in all angles! Your heart is palpitating, which because of your health problems, it scared them. They put you on an IV for a bit.

"Do you need anything? I can go to the vending machine." Embry offers. You move your arm and look at him. You smile and squeeze his hand. "No, baby. I'm sure once we get home, Emily will have food made." You giggle. You glance down at your stomach and think about how skinny Kim, Rachel, and Emily are. It hasn't bothered you too bad since being with Embry, but occasionally, it hits you. Especially when you are told you are going to be around them. You love them, and they love you, absolutely! It's just hard being the only plus sized girl.

The door opens, and the rheumatologist steps in with a clipboard. She pulls the small rolling chair toward you. She keeps her mask lifted up, but her eyes are telling. "Alright, y/n. The medicine was only making your heart race. It was causing some arithmetic issues. Your joints are about the same as last time. You are just in a flareup." She looks at you and then Embry. A flareup sucks but that means there's nothing WORSE and nothing new to worry about.

"I'm going to give you a list of treatments. You can choose one that you'd like to try. I will up your plaquinil, though. This go around, no prednisone." She starts writing stuff down.

The visit took a lot longer. Emily had called Embry to let him know that there's a dinner over there tomorrow with your favorite food. You feel bad when she does this every time you end up going to the hospital for something. She does this for everyone on their birthdays, but that's once a year. For you, it's a few times a year.

You walk inside your and Embrys house, your phone and charger in your hand. You yawn, tossing it on the couch. Embry reaches for your waist from behind. He pulls you into him and presses kisses on your shoulder. "Baby, you tired?" He asks. "Mhm." You nod. At the moment, your fingers are hurting, and you just want to sleep it off.

You guys wake up. Pick an outfit for the get-together!

Even though it's a dinner, you all usually spend the day there. You grab your purse and have painkillers and nausea pills on hand. "Embry! Come on!" You call out.

No answer.

You cock your head to the side and drop your purse on the couch. You walk back into the bedroom and see Embry dressed, but he is leaning over the bed with his face covered.

"Honey, no." You coo and sit next to him on the bed. You pull an arm away from his face to see he's teary-eyed. You pull him into your chest. He loves it when you do this. He calls them his pillows. "I just feel so.. useless? I feel so out of control of your situation. I want you to feel better. I don't want to make you feel bad. I just hope you know I'll always be here. I love you." He plants a loving kiss to the middle of your neck before moving up. You smile at him and caress his cheek. "I feel better today. Having you next to me makes the pain feel more tolerable. I feel like I can keep going. You do control the situation more than you think. I love you." You kiss his lips softly. He holds onto your wrist, rubbing his thumb over your hand. He kisses back so softly and slowly. You pull away and stand up. "Let's go eat and hang out with friends!" You pipe up.

You guys make it there and step inside. Emily and Sam are sharing a few kisses. Quil, Leah, and Seth are on the floor playing twister. "Damn it!" Leah hisses as Quil's arm makes her fall, causing everyone to fall. "Dude, that was nearly impossible! I'm a wolf, not a contortionist!" Quil yells out. Seth rubs the back of his neck because two strong bodies landed on him. "What does that even mean?" He side eyes Quil with a look of hurt.

Quil jumps up and hugs you and then Embry. "It's so good to see you y/n! I would say Embry, but he's up my ass." He laughs. Embry rolls his eyes. "Wolf duties, Quil. Don't make things awkward." You burst into laughter. Leah steps up to you with a huge smile. "I'm so glad you are okay! You feel okay today? No pain?" She wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you in. You giggle and pat her waist. "No pain today." You reply. She pulls back to hug Embry. You turn to Seth, who looks worried and has his hands in his pockets. "Seth Clearwater, what is wrong?" You ask amusingly and then give him a hug. "I'm scared for you and Embry." He sniffles and wraps his arms around you. "Hey, kid. We're okay. You guys will always kick vamp ass and I'll kick the disease ass too." You giggle.

"Surprise!!!!" Kim pops up and engulfs you in a hug. You hug her back and laugh. "Kim!" You call out. She pulls back and checks out your fit. "Goddamn! Beautiful!" She gushes. "Hey, you're the pretty one." You argue, internally feeling self-conscious and envy. She looks at you, her face contorted with 'come on, now'. "Seriously, Kim! I'd love to be skinny." She backs away and points at her body. "Y/n, JARED HAS NOTHING TO SQUEEZE!" She laughs. "I am beautiful, but you are too." She sits back down next to you. "Plus, everyone talks about how Embry calls your boobs his pillows." You both laugh.

The group of your friends in the kitchen pull up in the living room with you two. Embry stands behind the couch behind you and rubs your shoulders. You look up at his pretty face and pucker your lips. He leans down and pecks you. Quil puts Embry in a chokehold and pulls him away from you. You roll your eyes, and all the imprints sigh. "Here we go.." Emily giggles.

After your whole get-together, you and Embry get back home. You lay on the bed with your shoes still on. Your back is hurting so bad. You are trying not to cry. You roll onto your side. Embry comes up and takes off your shoes, kissing your ankles. "Baby, you need anything?" You shrug, unable to speak at the moment.

"I'm gonna get you comfortable." He unbuttons your pants and pulls them off effortlessly, as he knows all your curves perfectly and has done this many times. He kisses your lower back. "I'll get you some heat." He leaves. You roll onto your back and sigh. He comes back in with the heating pad. He plugs it into the wall and turns it on. "Lift up, baby." He says. You lift as high as you can, and he places it down. You flop down, and the heat instantly feels good. Embry kisses your forehead. "I love you." He smiles. You smile back at him and pat the bed next to you. "I got you." He walks over to his side and lays next to you. "Together." He says, grabbing a hold of your hand.

[bogleech]

Day ten of bronchitis. I can't remember the last time in my life I caught something like this out of nowhere. It's not covid but it's much worse than any time I got covid. It's now finally fading away, but still wheezing and I've now coughed so much, the slightest cough causes a searing hot muscle pain up my stomach. I'm afraid of rupturing something, but then it means I can't cough hard enough to even momentarily clear my air sacs, so every breath tickles and sounds like a bunch of raspy little moaning ghosts all at once.

The two inhalers were useless so I went back to the doctor and they gave me Prednisone and benzonatate. I can't tell if they make a difference either really

[rthritis]

It's amazing how a small change in my daily schedule changed my functionality;

Usually, I walk my dog in the mornings. My partner walks him at night. My pain and stiffness are worst in the morning, but I can "walk it out." However, I don't seem to recover from the walk and can't get anything else done for the rest of the day. This was not sustainable.

So today, my partner took the morning walk, and I was able to use the time I would typically spend walking out my stiffness to stretch instead. And then I was able to do a couple chores. I took a nap. Then I was able to go on a car ride. Then I needed another nap, but I woke up from that and was able to take my dog on his evening walk.

This is the most productive I have been in a number of weeks, and it's all thanks to a simple edit of my morning, and maybe the 40mg of prednisone I'm on, idk.

[mars-ipan]

having to get infusions as part of my treatment plan as someone with a huge dislike for ivs is kinda evil

[chroniclyillpolybat]

Why is it that when you suddenly become chronically ill, you can feel so lonely and disconnected from everyone? Is it just me, or is this feeling part of the journey of figuring out who you are now that you have limitations you’re struggling to accept?

Since February, I’ve noticed my health declining, even after I switched to a Mediterranean diet and managed to lose about 50 lbs. But then the pain kicked in, making it hard to walk some days. And when summer arrived, things got tougher. I started developing a butterfly rash and other rashes every time I was in the sun, which hurt even though I never got sunburned. I used to be the kind of person who would tan effortlessly after just ten minutes in the sun. This summer, I felt more like a vampire, trying to avoid sunlight at all costs. I even bought a cute little parasol so I could enjoy being outside when I needed to.

I feel like I’ve been stuck in the grieving phase, realizing that this isn’t just going to go away. I need to learn how to navigate daily life while managing chronic illness. Yes, I’m sad, and yes, everything hurts all the time, but just sitting around feeling down isn’t going to change anything. I really want to find a way out of this pit of despair and move toward acceptance.

Part of me thinks I need to ignite some passion within myself. But where do I start? Maybe I should be more open about what I’m going through. I’m working hard at being a good stay-at-home mom, but it can feel overwhelming. Since I can’t work at the moment, why not focus on personal growth? I’ve got a big house that usually stays pretty tidy, but I struggle with finding a consistent schedule. My ADHD loves order, but my body doesn’t always cooperate.

I genuinely want to be a great mother and partner at home. I want to lighten the load for everyone else so that I feel like I contribute something meaningful. Finding that purpose is key for me—I want to wake up excited to take on the day, even if I have a flare-up. Maybe it’s a bit of a dream, but why not give it a shot?

I’ve been searching for other moms who may not have it all figured out at home but are managing chronic illness while trying to improve themselves. I couldn’t find any! If you know of anyone, please DM me, tag them, or let me know how I can connect. So what’s my next step?

First up: shifting my mindset. I need to stop wallowing and start making a plan. Just changing my perspective and looking for the positives helps a lot (especially when I'm not on prednisone; it makes it easier to not feel sad or angry).

Next, I might try a brain dump—writing down everything I want to accomplish around the house, including what a 'perfect' schedule would look like. Then, I can color-code tasks based on importance, so I know what to focus on each day. On days when I’m flaring, I can start with the essentials and see how much I can do after resting.

I’m still in the early stages, but I wanted to share my thoughts with you. If anyone has ideas or strategies that work for them, I’d love to hear your suggestions!

Thanks for taking the time to read my ramblings! I’m thinking about documenting my journey as a stay-at-home mom dealing with ADHD, BPD, and chronic illness. Who knows? Maybe that’ll be the next step!