#and the first time was at the damn neurologist

[tj-crochets]

Two rows left!!! Time for a lunch break

Almost 2/3s of the way done!

[yeonzzzn]

for astra: park sunghoon

intro of for astra | spotify playlist

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 5.8k

synopsis: sunghoon finds himself waking up and repeating the same day over and over again until he finally breaks the cycle and finds himself on a space station called ‘astra 1’. he soon learns he is one of the few who are still alive and that they aren’t alone…

genre: space!au, survival!au, neurologist!sunghoon, neurologist!reader, strangers to lovers, angst, smut.

warnings: swearing, blood, m*rder, guns go pew pew, other life forms, some science talk, unprotected sex, biting, hair pulling, sunghoon fucks reader against the wall, adding more as the story progresses, MINORS DNI!!! (these tags will be on every part even if they do not consist of said tag)

intro | part one | part two

a/n: tysm for 4.3k follows guys!!! i’m grateful more than words can describe. this means the world to me. so have this spacey thriller based off my favorite video game for the celebration 💜

[ 𝙻𝙾𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶… ]

[ … ]

[ … ]

[ … ]

[ 𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙿𝙰𝚂𝚂𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 ]

[ ****** ] 

[ … ]

[ 𝚆𝙴𝙻𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺, 𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳 ]

[ 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙳𝙾? ]

[ 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙅𝙀𝘾𝙏 𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙍𝘼 ]

[ 𝙻𝙾𝙰𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶… ]

[ … ]

[ … ]

[ 𝖴𝖯𝖫𝖮𝖠𝖣 𝖯𝖱𝖮𝖩𝖤𝖢𝖳 𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖱𝖠? ]

[ 𝙔𝙀𝙎 ]

[ //𝖴𝖯𝖫𝖮𝖠𝖣𝖨𝖭𝖦… ]

[ 𝖴𝖯𝖫𝖮𝖠𝖣𝖤𝖣 ] 

[ 𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖲 𝖤𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖮 𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖱𝖳 ]

[ 𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍 ]

Sunghoon’s eyes fluttered open, wandering them to the glass sliding door leading out to his balcony. The morning sun shone brightly into his studio apartment. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, dragging his feet across the floor towards the bathroom. Stretching out his arms and letting a small yawn leave his lips. 

He really didn’t want to go to work today. But nevertheless, he brushed his teeth and changed into his favorite pair of tan slacks and gray button-up shirt with lab-appropriate shoes then out the door he went, waving a hand and giving a smile to the apartment staff, “Good morning Mr. Park!” They smiled and waved back. 

Sunghoon took the elevator to the roof, where his private helicopter was waiting for him, the pilot giving him a nod as he climbed in, “Good to see you again, Mr. Park.” 

“Pleasure is all mine, like always.” Sunghoon teased. The pilot's laugh filled the copter and forced Sunghoon to smile even more. He really did have the best staff working for him. 

And soon enough, he was walking into his company building, pulling his ID badge from his pocket and sliding it across the counter to the guard, once his ID was confirmed he was well, him, he was sent through. 

“About time you showed up!” Heeseung teased with a tilt of his head, “What time did you wake up this morning?” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “Do you forget who owns this company? I show up when I want to.” 

Heeseung patted his best friend's back, “Co-own. Don’t forget my half.” Sunghoon chuckled and shoved his friend, following at his side to the lab. 

“What tests are today?” he asked. 

“Let me think,” Heeseung checked his watch, “I think we can start with the drawings.”

Sunghoon groaned, “The damn drawings?!?” 

They turned the corner and walked into the lab. All the scientists and lab techs rushing around to prepare for today's tests, “They won’t take long, promise!” Heeseung crossed a finger over his heart in terms of his promise. With a sigh and eye roll, he stepped into the testing box. 

“Good morning, Dr. Park.” One of the scientists said, “We are starting with drawings, yes?” 

Heeseung slid to the scientist's side, giving Sunghoon a thumbs up. Oh man, if there weren’t a glass wall between him and Heeseung right now, “Correct,” Sunghoon said looking away from his best friend, “Send them in.” 

Sunghoon sat down at the desk in the middle of the room, a tablet sat in front of him. With a press of a button on the counter by one of the lab techs, the tablet screen went bright, showing the first drawing. 

Sunghoon raised a brow, “It’s two people facing away from each other.” 

Heeseung glanced at the computer on the counter, looking at the same image Sunghoon was. 

“Good, good. Next photo.” The scientist waved the lab tech to continue. 

Sunghoon slid back into his chair, glaring up at everyone on the other side of the glass, “These are fucking stupid.” 

The test they were running on him was the Rorschach Inkblot test. Ya know, the blobs of ink someone dumped on paper to show to psych patients and see how crazy they are. 

“Hoon,” Heeseung warned, “Please.” Heeseung was always the more level-headed one out of the two of them. 

Sunghoon pushed his tongue into the left side of his cheek, shooting his eyes back down to the tablet, “It’s a butter—“ His vision went blurry. A massive pain in his head throbbed and his ears rang. He shot to his feet, covering his ears with his hands, and let out a scream. 

“FUCKING DO SOMETHING!!!” Heeseung yelled at the scientist, “SHUT IT DOWN!!!” 

Once his vision went black, everything went silent. 

His eyes fluttered open, wandering them to the glass sliding door leading out to his balcony. The morning sun shone brightly into his studio apartment. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, dragging his feet across the floor towards the bathroom. Stretching out his arms and letting a small yawn leave his lips. 

He really didn’t want to go to work today. 

Sunghoon stopped midway to the bathroom, slightly shaking his head. Something felt too…familiar. He shrugged his shoulders, deciding it was just another day. 

“I think we can start with the drawings today.” 

“The damn drawings?!?” 

Sunghoon dropped his head into his hands, stumbling back a few steps, Heeseung immediately at his side ready to keep him from tumbling over, “Hoon, you okay?” 

Sunghoon wasn’t sure how to answer that question. How does he tell his best friend he’s been getting a major case of deja vu today? So he shrugged him off, “It’s nothing. Just a small headache is all.” 

Heeseung placed his hands on his shoulders, “We can reschedule today for another if you’re feeling sick?” 

“Let’s just get the damn drawings over with.” he pushed past his friend. 

Sunghoon stared at the inkblot pictures in front of him then shot to his feet, covering his ears and screaming until everything went silent and black. 

His eyes fluttered open, and this time he didn’t look out onto his balcony. He stared straight up at the ceiling. His head was pounding. His heart was racing. But he got up anyway. 

He glanced around his studio apartment, looking like it always does. Neat and clean. Not a single spec of dust. His couch looks new. Like new new, hasn’t been sat on kinda new. 

As he made his way towards the bathroom, Sunghoon couldn’t shake the feeling that something was…well, wrong. His deja vu and the splitting headache wouldn’t stop. Sunghoon tried to wrap his mind around it as he reached for his toothbrush. 

“I think we can start with the drawings today.” 

Sunghoon blinked multiple times and shook his head, connecting his palm to the side of his face. 

What the hell is going on??

He sees the inkblot of the butterfly and he starts screaming, everything going black until he’s once again waking up and staring up at his ceiling except this time….

He remembers the events that just took place. Sunghoon quickly sits up in his bed, sweat dripping down his face as he takes in his apartment. It looks normal but more eerie. The air felt thick and the apartment complex sounded too quiet. He swallowed as he stood from his bed, slowly walking to the middle of the room. He listened for any sound possible, but only heard the quiet. Not even the sound of birds was present. Something was definitely wrong. 

That’s when his eyes landed on his kitchen countertop, a card sat there straight up, his name written on the front. It drew him in, calling for him. He took the white card between his fingers, flipped it open, and read the contents inside:

Sunghoon,  Meet me in your office as soon as you get up and get ready. We have a lot to discuss.  You’ll need to break the glass. 

Sunghoon scoffs and tosses the card back on the counter. What did this mean? Who sent this to him? But the more he lingered his eyes and thoughts on the card, the more questions he had and the more confused he was. With the events that happened yesterday(?) and now waking up to this card…all on top of his deja vu and headaches…He needed answers. Now. 

He quickly got ready and laced up his boots, checking the time on his watch, the helicopter that takes him to the company building would be leaving in ten minutes, he needed to get a move on. 

He counted each step it took to his front door, holding his breath as he reached for the door handle. Here goes nothing. The knob twisted and turned, pulling the door open slowly and his heart nearly ripped out his chest. 

The hallway was dark. One of the light fixtures was barely holding on by its cord, flickering and sending out sparks. 

His whole body shook as he took that first step out of his apartment, realizing there were no other doors on this floor besides the ones to the elevator. 

What is happening…

Sunghoon slowly walked into the hall, immediately clenching his fingers over his nose. Eyes searching up and down the hall for the source of the smell until he found it. 

One of the apartment workers on his floor was slumped against the wall, head hung low, and dried blood covering their entire body and staining the floor around them. Tools and other equipment are laid beside them. They’ve been dead for a while because of the looks and position of their body. “Good fucking god,” he pressed his back against the wall, forcing his eyes down to the other side of the hall, “What the fuck is going on?!” 

The office. His office. He needed to get to his office. With a deep breath, Sunghoon pushed himself off the wall and rushed down the hall, keeping his eyes straight ahead to not look at the decaying body as he moved past it, heading for the elevator and quickly tapping the button. He bounced his weight back and forth with his anxiety building up along with the questions running through his brain. He reached forward again and pressed the button once again, the realization sinking in that the elevator was not working. 

You’ll need to break the glass. 

Sunghoon turned back around, looking at the empty hallway with only his apartment door being the only door. What glass does he have to fucking break??

Then it hit him. The glass door to his balcony. 

He quickly rushed back to his apartment, the bright sunlight forcing him to squint his eyes until they adjusted but he didn’t stop moving, taking notice that he couldn’t see his reflection in the glass. Sunghoon tried to open the sliding glass door, only for it to be bolted shut…or…maybe…

Sunghoon placed his palms against the glass and pushed, but it didn’t budge. He furrowed his brows and traced the tip of his finger along it, could this be…??

He needed to break the glass. But if his suspicions are true…

The tools by the dead worker. They had a wrench. He rushed back out of the apartment and into the dark hallway, averting his eyes from the body and locking them onto the tools, and picking up the wrench from the floor, its metal cool against his skin. Once he found himself back in front of the glass, his heart raced. What was he about to find once he broke the glass? What was waiting for him? Heeseung. He could only hope his best friend was the one who left that note for him. It only made sense. 

So he swung the wrench, connecting it to the glass and watching it shatter, the sound of it breaking echoing in his ears. His eyes widened as he took in what was now in front of him, arm slowly resting back at his side and hand clenching the wrench tighter. He pressed forward, carefully stepping over the broken glass and into the new area before him. 

His suspicions were true. He was being watched. 

Two rows worth of computers, monitors, and cameras filled the room. Dry-erase boards that tracked every movement Sunghoon made sat in the corners of the room. Stacks of folders filled with records sat on almost every desk along with multiple broken coffee cups scattered amongst the floor. In the furthest part of the room were rows of shelves filled with food and water. The same exact food Sunghoon has in his cabinets. 

Sunghoon slowly turned around and faced his…apartment? Would that even be the correct term to call it? He wandered his eyes over the room he was held captive in, seeing that every inch of that wall along the glass door was see-through. It only proved his suspicions more. Not only was he being watched, the entire wall was a two-way mirror. 

Quick on his feet, he rushed to one of the desks, grabbing at the folders and flipping through the records, hands shaking at everything being revealed to him, “What the fuck…” Sunghoon was being used as a test subject. Forced to replay a specific part of his life over and over again as the experiment for over a year. Everything about his experiment was fixed. The time he woke up every day. The meals he ate. The time he left the apartment. The helicopter(which was just past the elevator and in fact just a simulation ride). The company building. It was all fucking fixed. This whole area he was currently standing in was a fucking stage and he was the performer. 

Squeezing the wrench, then pushed everything off the desk out of anger, frustration, and confusion. What the actual fuck was going on here? He needed to get to his office. And since this seemed to be the company building, he knew exactly where to go. 

Before a step could be taken, a mug rolled past his feet. It startled him, but he kicked it away anyway, chalking it up to be one of the items he pushed off the desk and walked towards the door assuming to be the exit. As he reached the door, the sound of the mug still moved, causing Sunghoon to whip his head around, seeing the mug finally halting in its place. There’s no way he kicked that mug that hard, did he? He didn’t have time for this and completely disregarded the stupid mug and opened the door, leaving his captive place and the weird mug behind. 

Only to step foot into the lab, the main source of his deja vu. He placed his other hand onto the wrench, slowly making his way further in. Bodies of the scientists and lab techs were on the floor, at their desks and stations, and leaned against the wall. Their bodies were different than the one in the stage hallway by his ‘apartment’. Their skin was completely pale, their faces looked hollowed in like someone vacuumed sealed their skin to their bones. Sunghoon didn’t know which was worse to see between the bodies here and the worker in the hall. He kept his eyes moving, wandering off to the testing box, seeing the tablet still sitting on the desk with the butterfly inkblot still pulled up. How hasn’t that thing died yet? 

His head pulsed just then looking at the inkblot. Body wincing and bringing him down to his knees, dropping the wrench at his side to cup the sides of his head with his hands. He bit down on his lips to keep from screaming, trying with all his might to keep his eyes open. 

Please don’t black out again. Please don’t black out again. 

A noise from across the room shook him from his daze and settled the pulsing of his head and blurred vision. He looked in the direction, swearing to god he saw something moving from behind one of the desks. 

“Hello?” He slowly brought himself back to his feet, squeezing the wrench in hand and ready to use it as a weapon, “Who else is in here?” there was silence, “Heeseung, I swear to god man if that’s you…” 

Except it wasn’t Heeseung that moved from beside the desk. It wasn’t even human. The thing was small, black, with four legs and dark veins that moved from his circular body down to all the legs. It moved fast, quickly jumping itself onto the nearest desk. Sunghoon took steps back, keeping his eyes locked onto whatever the hell that thing was. Watching as it moved itself from one desk to the other, making its way to him, jumping back to the floor, and morphing into a piece of paper that it landed beside. Without a second thought, Sunghoon rushed over, slamming the wrench down onto the monster, its appearance going back to normal and its four legs wrapping itself around the wrench and his wrists. On instinct, he lifted his arms up and quickly slammed them back down repeatedly, shoving the monster over and over again onto the floor until it stopped moving and its legs went limp, releasing his wrists. 

Sweat dripped down Sunghoon’s face as he squats down to inspect the thing, “What are you?” 

ₐₙd wₕₐₜ ₐᵣₑ yₒᵤ?

Sunghoon fell back on his ass, swinging the wrench once more against the monster until its black blood pooled onto the floor. 

“Oh, fuck,” He whispers, “Oh, what the fuck!” He scrambles to his feet and rushes away from the dead thing, nearly tripping over the dead bodies as he runs to what he was praying to be the exit. He just needed to get to his office. Then everything will be answered for him. 

But what Sunghoon was expecting to find, and what he did find, when the door swung open were two completely different things. His jaw dropped as he stared out the windows, arms limp at his sides as he walked to the nearest railing, “Holy fucking shit.” 

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Blinking multiple times just for good measure to double-check he wasn’t dreaming. 

He was in space. He was in fucking space. Sunghoon looked over the railing, seeing what he was assuming to be the lobby of this…spacecraft? Space station? He goes with station after seeing banners and signs of the like with the name ‘Astra 1’ written on them. 

He swallows and decides to explore, walking down the steps to the first floor of the lobby. He couldn’t help but smirk as he took in the sights in front of him. He was in space?! What the fuck happened that lead him here? 

As much as Sunghoon wanted to explore the lobby in its entirety, he remembered the small alien(?) he just encountered. If there was one, there had to be more. Maybe even something worse than that small one lurked among this station. He needed to find his office and get the fuck off this station. Fast. 

Thankfully for him, purple signs that matched the station's color theme pointed him in the exact direction he needed to go. The offices were on the top floor of the lobby along with a few meeting rooms, a break room, and the trauma center. Sunghoon walked the three stories of stairs as fast as he could, finally reaching the top floor and noticing a turret sitting in the corner, pointing to the door of the trauma center. 

What could a turret be here for? Sunghoon looked at the door to the trauma center, seeing the keypad was green, probably meaning the door was unlocked. Curiosity got the best of him as he slowly walked to the door. What could this turret be watching for? All those questions were answered the minute the door caught his motion and slid open. The sound of the turret started up and Sunghoon quickly dropped to the floor and pushed himself backward. The alien he saw standing before him looked exactly like the small one, except more human-like. As tall as one, with two large dark purple eyes at the top of its head. Its skin was also black but shinier, almost electric-like; a current flowed through the outer layer of its skin. It stared back at Sunghoon, tilting its head. 

yₒᵤ’ᵣₑ ₐfᵣₐᵢd? wₕy?

The turret starts shooting out its bullets, the creature quickly rushing further into the trauma center for refuge and the door sliding closed. Sunghoon rushed back to his feet and over to the keypad, pressing his index finger against it, finding the lock icon, and pressing it repeatedly until the screen turned red. He waved a hand over the motion detector and let out a sigh of relief. 

yₒᵤ’ᵣₑ ₙₒₜ ₗᵢₖₑ ₜₕₑ ₒₜₕₑᵣₛ. wₕy ᵢₛ ₜₕₐₜ? yₒᵤ ₜₕᵢₙₖ?

Sunghoon looked through the small thin window of the door, seeing the dark purple slits looking back at him. The creature hunched over into a corner. Why can he hear these things speaking to him in his mind? What the fuck is going on in this damned space station?!

He turned quickly, marching past the turret and down the hall that led to the offices. The hall had three doors on each side that had two desks on either side of each of the rooms. One door sat at the end of the hallway. It was cased in purple steel with a golden outline of flowers. It was beautiful, truly. 

As he got closer to the door, just above the trim was a silver plate that read: Dr. Park Sunghoon. This was it. This is his office. 

The keypad was red to show it was locked. Sunghoon pressed the lock icon and two options popped up:

Enter passkey

Face ID

Sunghoon chose face ID, because what the fuck would the passkey even be? He clearly doesn’t have any memory of stepping foot into this space station, what made him think he’d know the passkey? 

The screen changed into a camera, showing him his reflection. A white bar moved up and down, and side to side across the screen to scan his features. It lit up green, and the door to the—his—office opened. 

With a deep breath, he walked inside. The lights seemed to be motion-censored as they lit up the office with just the few steps he took inside. This office was HUGE. To his left, he had a view of the Astra 1 lobby and the infinite space. In front of him was a locker with another passkey he didn’t know. To his right sat his desk at the far side of the room with a workbench off to the side and a kitchen on the other. 

He slowly walked over to his desk, tracing his fingers across the smooth surface as he rounded the corner of it. Sat on top of the desk were two monitors with the logo of his company slowly spinning in a circle and three picture frames. One with him and Heeseung as children, the other with them the day they created this company, and the last one is a photo of him, his younger sister, and his parents at one of his last figure skating competitions. Sunghoon smiled at these photos, fondly remembering them. But his smile soon faded at the realization he doesn’t remember anything else after a certain point. 

He sighs and shifts his head to the other side of the desk, seeing a fresh apple and another card. He picked up the card first. 

Sunghoon,  If you were able to make it here, unlock the computer and click accept on the operator screen which will be already loaded up. The passkey is 20201130. I know you must have a lot of questions, everything will be answered soon.  Please eat the apple as well. You more than likely haven’t been given proper nutrients. 

Sunghoon didn’t realize how hungry he was until reading the card. Quickly tossed the paper down and grasped at the apple and sinking his teeth into the fruit. He dropped himself into the chair and leaned back as he chewed. How long has he gone without actually eating? 

Once he finished the apple and tossed the remains in the trash can under the desk, he got to work with the passkey, typing it in and watching as both screens unlocked. Just like the card said, a window was already open to accept the operator. He clicked accept instantly. 

Curtains came down the windows and the lights dimmed. One monitor shut off, and the other loaded up a video. 

“Hello, Sunghoon.”

His heart stopped. The video was…of himself. And a small white ball floated beside his head…an AI, he assumed. 

“You probably have a lot of questions,” he said, holding his hands together and leaning forward in the chair he was sitting on. The room he was in was a bit dark and looked to be in the corner of the lab downstairs, “For starters, I want to apologize on behalf of the things they will do to you,” he looked to the floor, licking at the corner of his lips, “I hacked into our companies system and saw the things they are planning for you, for us.” The white ball floated to the other side of his head, “How rude of me,” he chuckled, “This is November, Nov for short. He is…exceptional. He is us of course. We created him with the help of our technology and the neuroscience department. With the help of…” he looked down at his hands and twisted a ring around his middle finger, forcing Sunghoon to look down at his own hands and seeing that ring wrapped around his middle, when did that get there? “We were able to implant pieces of our psyche into these wonderful robots. We are the only one who successfully implanted our psyche into these things,” he gently tapped his index finger to the small bot, it turned to face him, obviously giving an attitude, “Hee was pissed we figured it out first,” Sunghoon smiled and looked down at the floor away from the monitors, missing his best friend and wondering where on earth he could be in this station. The video continued, “I’ll get to the point since I’ve messed around enough,” he leaned back into the chair, squeezing at his thighs, “The Typhon—the life forms we found while exploring space—I’m sure you’ve encountered them. If my predictions are correct then you undoubtedly encountered a few types. Or your memories returned and you’ll remember everything and I made this video as a safeguard for nothing,” he shrugged, “But I doubt it would be the case, unfortunately.” There was another voice shouting off in the distance. He stood to his feet and walked closer to the camera, worried filled his face, “My worst fear has happened,” he placed both hands on the side of the camera and swallowed, “I’ll leave instructions with Nov to explain the rest,” he glanced away from the camera, tucking his lip between his teeth, “Godspeed, Sunghoon. Good luck.” Then the video ended. 

The curtains drew up and the lights came back on. What the fuck was that? The sound of a panel opening somewhere in the office jolted Sunghoon to his feet, the small white robot flew into the room, turning and looking at Sunghoon. 

“Hello again, CEO Dr.Park,” Sunghoon carefully walked around his desk, meeting Nov halfway, “Have your memories returned?” It shocked Sunghoon on how alike his voice sounded coming from the bot. 

He shook his head, “No.” 

Nov tilted to the side, “What is the last thing you remember?” 

Sunghoon shrugged, looking away from the ball, “That I was reliving the same day repeatedly, taking the inkblot test. Seeing the same image and everything going black until I finally somehow stopped the loop. I have no memory of this station or even stepping foot in it.”

Nov hummed, “It’s because you stopped taking the medication they were forcing you to use, to keep you in that loop.”

They were drugging him? “Explain to me what is happening!” 

“CEO Dr. Lee and yourself, built Astra 1 after the discovery of the Typhon,” Heeseung and himself…discovered these aliens on this station? “They are smart creatures, and hold the key, secrets, and abilities for the mission you and Dr. Lee aimed for.” 

To reach beyond the depths of our psyche and grant gifts to those who have none, to heal the less fortunate, and discover ways to extend our lives by transferring our psyche. They did it. Nov and the video Sunghoon was shown is the living proof of that. He couldn’t believe it, “How did we discover these aliens?” 

“After Astra 1 was finished being built, Dr. Lee, yourself, and multiple others came up here to take a look before officially opening the station. The Typhon snuck their way into the station somehow. You and Dr. Lee found the mimics in the kitchen down in the crew quarters. One moment there was one mug on the table, a second later there were two.” 

Sunghoon chuckled, thinking back to the small creature he encountered in the lab, “Mimics, perfect name for them.” 

“Dr. Lee named that one.” 

“Of course he did,” Sunghoon bit his lip, “Where is he?” 

Nov tilted to the other side, “The whereabouts of Dr. Lee Heeseung are unknown. His tracking bracelet was disabled after the outbreak.” 

Sunghoon froze, “The outbreak?” 

“Yes. The Typhon are smart creatures, they played a coup and waited for the perfect opportunity to break out.” 

Sunghoon scoffed, “That’s what happened in the video I was shown wasn’t it? The outbreak was happening.” 

Nov hummed, “Indeed it was.” 

Sunghoon gripped the side of the desk, “What happened to me?” 

“After the discovery of the typhon and their abilities, as the video stated, you with the help of another doctor, successfully found a way to transfer over the psyche and created the neuromods to help with the transfer. Then the trials of using the neuromods on the typhon commenced. Once the trials were successful, it was time to take the psyche of the Typhon and plant them into humans. You being the primary test subject.” 

Sunghoon clenched his fist, anger boiling up within him. He was fucking used as the primary test subject? HIM?! The fucking CEO of this goddamn company was used as the test subject?!

“I didn’t spend years of my life getting my doctorate in neuroscience just to become a damn fucking test subject!” Sunghoon snapped, locking his jaw tightly. 

“That’s the thing, Dr. Park,” Nov moved closer to him, “You volunteered for it.” 

His heart stopped. He did this…to himself?

“But you had no idea what the other scientists had planned, at least not at first. You were injected with the Typhon neuromods and took tests every single day to see how their abilities were working. It went perfectly until your mood started to change. That’s when they started wiping your memory. They stripped the Typhon psyche from your brain and restarted the trails.” 

Sunghoon nearly fell to the floor, a piece of memory coming back to him of seeing Heeseung on the other side of the glass, screaming at the scientists each time over and over again to shut everything down, “Heeseung was a part of this too…He put me through this, he let me do this?!” 

Nov fell silent for a couple of moments, “Dr. Lee tried to talk you out of it. Once the results were good, he no longer tried fighting you, until your mood changed and the other scientists took over the project. Dr. Lee had no control after that and had to play into their games, same as you.” 

Sunghoon shook his head, “How has he completely just gone missing?! I just saw him yesterday for the tests!” 

Nov shook as if saying no, “Dr. Park, the last trial you went through was almost three months ago,” Sunghoon stared at the floor with wide eyes, “The outbreak was contained a bit, but your trials continued. You eventually caught along to the trials and hacked into the station's mainframe and discovered everything they’ve done to you and what they plan to do to you. Not just you, but also the Typhon. You had plans to shut the project down but were caught in the process. The last memory you have was right after that final trial and before you were caught.” 

His headache formed once again, dropping his head into his palm and gripping the desk tighter. It all made sense. Every ounce of it made sense. He needed to get off this ship. To find Heeseung and get off Astra 1 and report what has happened here to the police. 

“I need to get out of here,” he said quickly, looking back at Nov, “You said Heeseung had a tracking bracelet, and I’m assuming the whole crew had one. Is there a way to turn it back on and find him?” 

Nov went silent again, moving to look at the floor, then back up at Sunghoon, “There’s a list of the entire crew's bracelets and their locations, but after the outbreak, only one person was given access to the locations. Which brings me to the next piece of information you told me to tell you.” 

Sunghoon nodded, waiting for Nov to continue.

“You need to destroy Astra 1 and all the information here along with the Typhon.” 

He froze once again, “What about the survivors here? There have to be survivors on this station! Innocent people!” 

Nov went silent then floated even closer to Sunghoon, “There are escape pods just below of the bridge, use those to escape with the survivors along with yourself after setting the station to explode.” 

Sunghoon sighed with relief. This was good. It gave him time to search for Heeseung. 

“You’ll only have ten minutes after setting the station to explode to get back to the bridge and escape. You’ll need to move fast.” 

The locker slowly swung open, “I went ahead and unlocked the locker for you. In there, you’ll find your space suit to protect you not just from the damages of the station, but also the Typhon that is lurking around. A shotgun is also provided.” 

Sunghoon walked to the locker. A red suit hung inside with the shotgun sitting on a shelf above up. He took the suit in his hands, inspecting it. Dr. Park Sunghoon was written on the name tag attached to the chest. He wasted no time pulling the fabric onto his body and zipping it up. God, past him really thought everything through with this outbreak. Too bad he doesn’t remember a damn thing about it. 

“The suit has an auto function for the helmet,” Nov said, “For example, if you encounter a typhon or radiation, the helmet will automatically equip.” 

Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, impressed, “Who designed that feature?” 

“Why, you did, Dr. Park.” 

Of course, I did.

Sunghoon grabbed the shotgun and the box of bullets sitting beside it, working fast to load up the gun. 

He was officially ready to find Heeseung and blow this motherfucker into pieces. 

“You said one person was given access to the entire list of the bracelets,” Sunghoon shifted his weight to the side, “Who is this person?” 

“You’ll need to find Dr. YN/LN. She has the list.” 

Sunghoon glanced up at Nov, “And where do I find Dr. YN?”

intro | part one | part two

— perm. tlist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns

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@vveebee @teddybeartaetae @kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @1309zip @moon0fthenight

[kunaigirl]

Long post ahead, but I really want to talk about this...I think? Oh lord here we go, lol. Anyways, confession time!

I struggled with illiteracy and learning to read for a chunk of my life. I've mentioned it (in passing) in this post that I made about my experiences with having epilepsy, but I decided to make an whole post just for this for a change.

Somewhere around when I was in the second grade, I lost my ability to read and write due to a bad seizure I had. (That combined with the medications I was given too.) A lot of my memories are blank from that era, except for a very few instances I remember clearly. What I do remember though, has nothing to do with the seizure or even what lead up to it, all of that's still gone to this day.

I had lost my ability to read, and also was diagnosed with dyslexia during the quest to re-learn from scratch. (On top of already being diagnosed with ADHD when I was about 6.) I remember very vividly how HORRIBLE everything felt. I couldn't remember the names of things, and I had to re-learn, from preschool up, both reading and writing from scratch.

Somewhat luckily, I didn't lose anything else besides those chunks of memories and my ability to read, and I still remembered who I was, what cartoons I liked, my favorite music, etc. But suddenly, I couldn't read the CD titles anymore. I couldn't read the VHS covers. It was gone, ripped away from me very suddenly, and I knew it was missing. I knew that I already learned how to read and write, but it was forced out of me by a malfunctioning brain. I was home schooled because of it from grades 3rd-5th. (2003-2005)

In the third grade, I had made just enough progress to get books for 5 year olds. Everyone around me acted so proud, but all I could do was cry. I was humiliated. I felt so incredibly stupid, as being illiterate leaves you with no choice but to feel stupid. I threw those baby books around my room and sat on the floor crying. It wasn't fair, I didn't do anything wrong, it was my damn seizures. I had no control.

When I went back to public school for 6th grade, I got called stupid, the r-slur, illiterate, slow, basically every name in the book. Both kids and adults, all throughout those years while I continued to re-learn in real time. In middle school, my reading level was still low for my age, and I had to be in a special program with extra assistance and teacher accommodations. As soon as word got out, the kids were RELENTLESS. It was 06-07, nobody cared about bullying/etc, especially for a public middle school. The bullying never stopped.

I kept working and studying, slowly making progress. Years of struggling, learning to cope, inventing my own short-cuts to help read a little easier, using rulers and paper edges to help guide my eyes, everything. I was still in "special" classes with accommodations all through high school too. My senior year of high school, I graduated on the honor role list. Did that make me happy? It felt nice for sure, but better? Not by much. I knew how hard I still struggled, and still felt very embarrassed by it all. I'll never forget.

As a kid, the pain I felt was so intense. Physically from the seizure, and in every other way with having to re-learn how to spell t-r-e-e. Starting over with pre-K toddler books at 7. Kindergarten level at age 8, and a first grade level as a 9 year old. The feeling of having my memories ripped away just enough to leave me unable to recognize the symbols that decorated everything from posters to TV to book covers. Being told by a room full of doctors and neurologists what had happened, and being quizzed and tested to see what I still had left.

I have never forgotten those long nights. Even though I was a child, the shame and guilt and fear I felt were VERY real and very tense. And the jokes/remarks from both kids AND adults, the notebooks filled with raw squiggly anger, the uphill climb to regain what was taken from me. I will NEVER forget it. Even in college, I struggled with those heavy textbooks and their tiny fonts. I did well enough, but no one else struggled the way I did with them. I did my work and wrote my essays, but it would take full entire days. It still does.

At times, as an adult, I still get stuck on words. I can obviously read and write again, as you can see with this exact post, but it's not over. I struggle with certain fonts, and some books are just to difficult. I still work at it and still try as hard as I can even to this very goddamn day. It never truly ended, all these years later, 20 years later, I still sometimes fight to understand. I feel like an angry and humiliated kid again in those moments, but I'm not that kid or teen anymore. I lived thought it somehow.

I had a dream back when I was 17, where I'm standing in from of my 9 year old self and that pile of baby books. She's crying and looking at me, desperately. I walk over and hug her, proudly telling her "We read The Great Gatsby in high school, and we understand it."

To anyone who has struggled with illiteracy at non-toddler-points in their lives, I see you. To anyone who's struggled with reading comprehension, I see you. To anyone who struggled with writing, I see you. We don't talk about it enough, and I want to change that. I don't want to hide that side of my life experience anymore. Fuck shame, we climbed out of it.

And to this day, a copy of "The Great Gatsby" is still on my shelf. Because I read it in high school, and 9 year old me would've thought that was the coolest achievement ever.

[oneshotnewbie]

Liv’s daughter gets her first migraine injection? Of course Liv does it for her cause there’s no way she can do it herself. Its really painful, but Liv comforts her afterwards and they cuddle together.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The sunlight of the morning sun filtered through the still half-closed curtains. You sat on the edge of your double bed, staring nervously at your lap as you rubbed your shaking and sweaty hands on your pajama pants. In front of you was the long box with a migraine injection that your mother had brought you from your neurologist yesterday afternoon. Your heartbeat raced in your chest as you looked at the needle and injector.

Thoughts raced through your mind, sending you into a panic as you tried to take a deep breath and gather the courage. But the needle in front of your eyes seemed so frightening, and the thought of injecting it through your stomach alone increased your fear. The thought of the pain to come during the procedure made you shudder.

A large lump had formed in your throat as you tried to keep breathing calmly. "You're not a child anymore. You can do this," you whispered to yourself, but that only seemed to make the fear grow even greater. You reached for the included instructions and read through them for the hundredth time since last night. The individual steps were illustrated with pictures and described precisely, but your hands were shaking as if you had Parkinson's and the writing on the paper blurred into a scribble. "Damned!"

Hesitantly, you decided to accept help from your mother and call her. She had offered you her support and was waiting outside in the living room in case you needed her. "Mom?" you asked into the void, looking anxiously at the door. A soft knock on it startled you as you briefly returned to your thoughts. Olivia poked her head through a crack before carefully stepping into the room and you immediately felt relieved when you felt the familiar presence. “Everything okay, my darling?”

You nodded uncertainly and looked at her with wide eyes as you patted the seat next to you. You began nervously picking at your nails, your gaze wandering between your mother and the injection. "Yeah, I'm just... trying to take this injection."

Olivia stepped closer to you, her hands clasped under her chest and already holding her glasses in one of her hands before sitting down next to you. She opened a hand invitingly and you dropped the paper into her hand. "You don't have to do this alone," she spoke softly in a whisper, pulling up her glasses to take a closer look at the injection instructions. Your doctor had already shown her how it worked and what she should pay attention to. But one thing is certain: she couldn't afford any mistakes. She didn't want to cause you pain. "I'm your mother. I'm here to help you, no matter what."

A tiny smile spread across your face and you leaned your head on her shoulder. "Thanks, it's just... the fear of the pain. Dr. Phillips suggested it could be really painful." you gulped and hugged yourself. Olivia noticed your nervousness and placed a reassuring hand on your thigh, gently running her thumb over your clothed skin before resting her cheek on the top of your head. "You've already been through so much, sweetie. You can still do this. You're so strong!"

With shaky hands, you opened the box and pulled out the injector. Your heart raced when you saw the needle in real life. Your mother immediately grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently. "Take a deep breath and breathe out. You can do it, I'm here." You nodded and watched Olivia prepare the injection with steady hands as you took deep breaths and tried to calm your nerves with a little walk around your room. "Ready?"

"Yeah. Let me get it over with," you stood in front of your mother and pulled up your shirt. You quickly closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing as you tried to control the fear. With slow, step-like movements, Olivia approached you and placed the needle on your lower abdomen. The thought of the coming pain caused goosebumps to form on your skin, but you nodded silently and she pressed the injector firmly until it clicked into place.

Under her pressure, your mother felt a moment of tension, followed by a tiny sound of pain escaping your lips as the liquid slowly flowed into your body. Tears welled up in your eyes, but she continued to hold your hand, whispering soothing words to you as she stroked the back of your hand. "A few more seconds, you're almost there."

When the injection was finished, you exhaled deeply as if a weight had been lifted from you and Olivia carefully and carefully removed the needle before dropping the injector to the side. She quickly stood up, put her arms over your shoulders and pulled you close to her. "You did it. You were incredibly brave,"

You smiled weakly at the battle you had won with yourself and hugged yourself tightly to her middle, your head pressed tightly against her chest as you let the rest of your tears fall freely. Kisses adorned the top of your head and caresses were banished to your back as Olivia slowly brought you back to bed. "How about it. I'll let Finn take charge today, you skip school and we have a cozy day in bed?"

"That sounds great, Mom. Is that really okay with you?" you asked, throwing the blanket over your body while your head rested on the pillow. She didn't say another word, took her cell phone out of her pocket and tapped furiously on the screen before turning it off and throwing it on the dresser. "More than okay, my darling."

She disappeared from your room in a flash and you heard the microwave do its work. Shortly afterwards, the smell of sweet popcorn filled the entire apartment and Olivia returned. She had squeezed back into her pajamas and lay down on the bed next to you. You continued watching your favorite show together, occasionally dozing off in your mother's gentle embrace.

[noturlondonboy]

Hiii, can I ask for more autistic Yelena hcs? I love her sm but there's so little content for her :(

Autistic Yelena Belova is the genuine love of my life and I would do anything for her

Also this was MUCH longer than I thought it would be so I hope that’s your thing lol

-first of all, Yelena has literally no clue what autism is. They were never taught about neurodivergence in the Red Room, because there was no point. Each Widow was already tested on their cognitive abilities over and over and over again, with the weak links being weeded out. Yelena got “lucky” in that aspect; she didn’t start showing signs or symptoms until later (which can happen) and would be considered high functioning or even neurotypical when under the Red Room’s control. She unknowingly taught herself how to mask and always blamed the discomfort she felt on the fact that she was in the hell that was the Red Room in the first place.

-the first time she ever mentions something that could be related back to her being autistic, she and Kate are out clothes shopping. She’s already overstimulated from the bright sunlight, the store lights glaring off the floor, and the sounds of people’s shoes clacking, shopping carts creaking, and the children throwing a fit on the other side of the store. She physically recoils away from a jacket after her knuckles brush over it, her face scrunching up and tears welling in her eyes as she desperately shakes her hand out to get the disgusting texture off of her skin. Kate is worried and confused, but once they’ve gotten into the safety of their car with the window shades pulled up and the AC blasting, Yelena is able to explain that the texture felt awful and it felt like her brain was on fire from all the noise (even tho the store was actually relatively quiet). Kate starts putting two and two together after that day but doesn’t say anything for a while.

-when the idea of a diagnosis is brought to her, Yelena literally laughs in Kate and Natasha’s faces. She doesn’t know what the hell they’re talking about, but she’s for damn sure knows that that’s not her. She avoids the topic completely for weeks, changing the subject abruptly, leaving the room, of just full on putting her noise canceling headphones on and blasting her favorite music. That entire time, she is masking HARD, still without even realizing it, because the thought of a medical professional analyzing her is terrifying and just brings her right back to the Red Room. Kate is finally able to get to her one night when she pulls out her laptop and shows Yelena a list of common signs/symptoms of autism, and Yelena reads over them with a blank look on her face. She spends the rest of the night feverishly researching as much as she can about it, and by the morning, she’s a crying, exhausted mess in Kate’s arms.

-when they finally make her an appointment to see a neurologist, Yelena is practically bouncing off the walls with how anxious she is. The wait time is months long, but Natasha pulls some strings and manages to get her scheduled for the next month. Yelena needs a ton of cuddles after that, curling up with Kate on their bed and having the archer rest on top of her so it can feel like her body isn’t trying to escape her.

-the appointment itself goes smoother than she was expecting, but she still doesn’t like it. She’s asked questions and given scenarios to react to, they have her complete all sorts of different kinds of puzzles and equations, but she completes them all beyond easily because her brain was literally rewired to be cognitively brilliant. They don’t really start getting anywhere until the topic of her overstimulation comes up, and from there it pipelines into a conversation about how she hates certain textures, how some foods feel impossible to eat, how she has to complete patterns in her head to feel better, how anxious she gets about small things, how she stims and ticks almost constantly without even realizing, etc etc. She gets the official diagnosis a few weeks later and doesn’t know how to feel, so Kate and Natasha just hold her and they all watch a movie together.

-with Yelena’s stimming, you can bet it’s pretty constant whenever she’s not masking. Stimming is the repetition of certain physical movements or noises to help calm someone down. And seeing as Yelena is who she is, she’s stressed pretty much all the time. Her biggest stim is playing and fidgeting with her rings, but she also taps her fingers together a lot in patterns that she can’t explain, blinks rapidly when it’s bright wherever she is, rubs her thumb over her cheek, presses her hands together tightly and rubs them together, and runs her hands through her hair. She tries to get herself to stop doing those things once she knows what they are, but masking is getting more and more uncomfortable, and she only lasts a few days before she breaks and has a meltdown.

-she ticks when she’s particularly anxious or overstimulated, or when there are sudden unexpected loud noises whenever she’s relaxed and not masking. Ticks are a lot like stims, but are most often involuntary and can’t be controlled unless a lot of effort is put into it. Keeping oneself from ticking can be extremely physically painful, more so than holding back on stimming. Her ticks are usually small- clicking her tongue, making small noises in the back of her throat, tilting her head back and forth, snapping her fingers, etc. With the loud noises or high levels of stress, they turn into full body twitches, which usually renders her entirely nonverbal and prone on the couch or in bed while she shivers and jerks. It freaks Kate out until she understands what’s happening and learns how to help, but only because she’s so worried.

-Yelena finds out that she loves to have something in her mouth, and at first it weirds and freaks her out, but she can’t help herself when Natasha buys her a chewable necklace. She adores the texture on her tongue and how she can sink her teeth into it without it breaking, and she wears it almost constantly, often accessorizing different color pallets of the chewelry with how she dresses. She also likes to chew or suck gently on Kate’s fingers, which usually happens when they’re cuddling or after sex. Kate doesn’t mind, as long as she doesn’t bite too hard, and she makes sure to always have her hands clean whenever they’re together in case Yelena randomly wants to go full puppy on her.

[kukurubean]

personal update

Hi! Hello! I'm sorry I haven't been very personable lately. A lot of you probably know I have been struggling with my health. Which has been going on for. nearly 5 years now. And I've just steadily gotten worse and worse, lol,

Anyway. I wanted to post an update to say I may have finally hit a breakthrough. 🥲🤞

I have some sort of fun wombo-combo of about 3 or 4 conditions trying to destroy me all at once, so every treatment I've tried (which isn't actually a lot, since there are no real treatments for what I have and most doctors don't want to deal with it) has done nothing and I have also been to just about every kind of medical specialist under the sun. I still get nightmares over the disaster that was traveling all the way to Mayo Clinic and I've been trying to pick up the pieces ever since.

My main doctor right now is a rheumatologist who I think I haunt at night. I've stumped him for what seems like the first time in his life. But he's trying harder than anyone else I've had before. Everyone else sent me away at this point lol

But this update comes after I had a "fuck it" moment and decided to once again apply to the big hospital nearby, because apparently I am somehow on their roster after being rejected over and over for several years now 🤪 (I think it's because of an echocardiogram I did on one of their campuses.)

Anywho, we managed to find a doctor willing to prescribe me a drug could help me feel human again. I've been to about 3 neurologists over this nonsense and no one was willing to jump through the hoops for it because it is, admittedly, an absolute pain in the ass to prescribe. It's called Xywav and it's not only a highly controlled substance but also the only damn drug of its type on the market. So you can only imagine the gerrymandering.

He's sending me to another doctor first, just to see if this other guy can offer any insight into wtf is wrong with me, but if he doesn't suggest anything else I should finally be on track to try it! I obviously don't know if it will work for me but it's the only decent bet I have left. If it doesn't work I am going to cry for about 3 months straight so please help me manifest this

[its-ticsticstics]

Hey, I saw your post on things that can give you tics and what can’t and I have a few questions.

About 1/2 a year ago I developed tics, and I mean BAD. Happened over the course of a few days and it hit me like a damn semi (mainly because I’m in middle school in a small town and people are assholes, they’ve chilled out by now though).

A few months ago I went in to see a professional psychologist (at least I think that’s what he was, it’s something along the lines of that), when I got my results back I was told that the only things I had were minor ADHD, depression, and severe social anxiety. I was told that literally all of my major issues (unable to stay still, randomly going nonverbal, inability to make eye contact, and the tics) were because of the anxiety and now I’m seeing a bunch of posts like yours and I really don’t know who to believe.

Could you maybe provide me with a few articles so I can figure, like, figure a few things out?

(Also I would like to add that I have 41 tics as of current)

Hope I’m not being too too much of a bother/rude! Have a good day/night/afternoon.

(One more thing, I am writing this on 2 hours of sleep so anything I said that was stupid/grammar mistakes can be blamed on that)

First!

I can't diagnose you, but in my almost (haven't graduated from uni yet) professional opinion would to get a Cunningham blood panel test for PANS/PANDAS/BGE.

The sudden onset paired with periods of mutism (inability to speak) along with tics sounds like the source could be brain inflammation in the very early stages.

If a blood test rules this out, it could just be the classic Tourettic Triad of symptoms of ADHD/OCD/ASD but this would also need to be diagnosed by a neurologist. Reading about tics is not enough to give yourself a diagnosis- it is a neurological disorder and not the same as self diagnosing ADHD or autism. People can DIE from misdiagnosed tics.

Unfortunately, especially those who are AFAB, are likely to be misdiagnosed and have a harder time being diagnosed with a tic disorder or Tourettes than AFAB counterparts.

The fact that you weren't sent to a neurologist to evaluate your symptoms is medical neglect and you deserved better.

Second-

The argument that anxiety can't cause tics really comes from the fact that there are NO studies to prove anxiety causes tics. There are no studies to say they don't, because there is no clinical or scientific evidence that they do in the first place. It's sort of like asking "use scientific studies to prove to me that Santa Claus doesn't exist" .. You can't find those studies because everyone already knows Santa Clause doesn't exist so no one does a study on that in the first place. In this scenario, anxiety tics and Santa Claus are the same thing.

All studies agree that anxiety can worsen EXISTING tics, but none say that anxiety alone c a u s e s tics. Those are two very very different things. Ticcing when anxious does not mean being anxious makes you tic, it means that being anxious worsens and makes noticable tics that you already have.

What I can give resources to though, are genuine Tourettes and Tic Disorder websites:

[dontfeeltoohot]

this is LATE oops but could you perhaps write chase from house md being allergic to dust while breaking into a patient's home with foreman? nbd if you don't wanna write it though, i love your stories and can be totally content with rereading stuff haha

This is so cute ☺️ plus choreman

This is set in s7, because fav season and it’s before everything goes to hell.

XXX

“Foreman, Chase, go to the patients house and see if you can find any dirty secrets. It’ll be just like old times,” House smirks, making the pair share a look.

Chase doesn’t mind Foreman, has even grown to like the guy- maybe because he hid a literal murder and kept him from going to jail, or maybe because since they both returned to the team things have been easier for them. They know each others strengths and weaknesses, know House better than the others, have comradery that’s been built over several years.

“And no fighting, daddy loves you both equally,” the older man adds, patting both their shoulders as Taub and Thirteen walk out of the office.

As they walk down the corridor towards the elevators, Chase looks over at his colleague, trying to get a read on him- that much hasn’t changed.

“Think we’ll find anything in the guys house?”

“Probably not, but you know it’s easier just to rule it out,” Foreman clicks the down button and they stand their waiting.

“Yeah, won’t hear the end of it if we don’t.”

The car ride over is quiet, Foreman driving because “you drive like a maniac Chase, no way in hell.” Which he does, but the bluntness of it takes the blonde by surprise even if it shouldn’t.

“Sorry I’m not Mister Perfect.”

“I never said I was either, but I’d rather not have to call House because we’re flipped in a ditch or pulled over by a cop.”

They both think back to Thirteen getting pulled over.

“So, this guy lives in some old mansion type place?” Chase asks curiously, trying to remember what the middle aged man had said about his dwelling.

“Yep, secluded like a horror story. Thank god you’re white so you’ll die first.”

Chase can’t help but let out a snort, rolling his eyes. “So helpful.”

Foreman’s right of course. The house is secluded, a long, winding path finally leading to what looks to be at least 7,000 square feet of house, on at least five acres of land. They get out and look around, the older whistling.

“Damn this is a lot to cover.”

“At least we’ll be away from the hospital for a while,” Chase voices, walking towards the large oak front door.

It takes a while. They go through the kitchen, a few bedrooms and bathrooms, a dining room, two living room, and a large study. When they’re walking back downstairs, Foreman turns instead of going back to the front, so Chase huffs and follows.

“Where’re we going now?”

“…here.”

Foreman pulls a door open that Chase had missed, revealing concrete stairs leading to a dark basement. Chase has seen enough scary movies to be mildly concerned, mind flashing back to the scene in the Conjuring.

“You said yourself that you’re smarter than people in scary movies, and you think we should go down there?”

“Man, I just wanna leave and get some food. What if there’s something down there that’s the key to helping this guy, come on.”

They walk down into the basement after pulling the string connected to the lightbulb to light the stairway. Chase wrinkles his nose as they make it further down, the smell of dust and mildew hitting him in the face. The neurologist looks completely unfazed. As the pair start looking around, the Australian can feel his body reacting to the shit built up in the stale-aired room. His sinuses are buzzing, congestion is starting to settle in his head, and his nose is prickling with the need to sneeze.

Sniffling quietly, Chase works on putting a few cans of insecticide and repellents in a bag, kicking up more dust as he removes them from the wooden shelves. Trying not to aggravate everything more, he rubs his face against his sweater clad shoulder and hopes they can leave before this turns into an allergy attack. Sniffling again, nose running, the intensivist blinks hard and continues.

————

Chase’s sniffles are becoming more and more frequent and Foreman isn’t sure if he wants to tell the guy to shut up and blow his nose or ask if he’s okay. Something…different starts to blossom in his chest but he squashes it down as quickly as he can- no way does he find Chase of all people hot like this. Sure, random people can be hot when they’re allergic to stuff, but Chase? Chase is a kiss ass pretty boy who only cares about himself.

That’s not true, not anymore. Not since House fired him, not since Cameron left him. He’s changed, he’s your friend.

Shaking his head, the dark skinned man sighs and tries to ignore the wet sniffles coming from somewhere behind him. He has work to do and someone to save. He swabs a few surfaces, grimacing at the grime and dust, then drops the swabs into baggies. A commotion grabs his attention and he turns.

Chase is swearing under his breath as a few books and tools lay on the floor after falling from the half empty shelf. The blonde isn’t making to pick them up, instead he’s standing frozen, eyebrows drawn together, eyes unfocused. Foreman watches, realizing then that Chase- always healthy, always taking allergy meds and avoiding irritants Chase, is about to sneeze.

He’s seen the doctor sneeze before, but he has a feeling this is about to be much more of an experience than a random double from mint gum. Nostrils twitching, he watches Chase take a breath in, then he’s bringing his arm up to his face, shielding the nice view Foreman has.

“h’nGKTt-uh! snf! ihhgKXst-ooh!”

The second sneeze sounds harder to keep under control but the sound after, the small ‘ooh’ is soft and breathy. Foreman can tell he’s not done, not with how the other is rubbing his nose with his wrist, swiping up and creasing the bridge. As if Chase has just remembered he’s not alone, he turns, still sniffling and eyes watery.

“Find anything?” Foreman tries to act like he’s not been watching the display.

“Fou’d a few bottles, yeah.”

The congestion is audible already as Chase bends down and picks the items off the floor, returning them to their unoccupied spaces. When he’s sat the last book down, his left hand comes up to scrub at his nose, rubbing it a little harder than what Foreman would consider normal.

“hh’NGKxT! SNF! hih’XTtch! Fuck,” the word is breathless as the Australian rubs his face into his shoulder.

“You uh, okay?” Foreman grabs another swab from his bag and tries to busy himself.

“Yeah, I juuhst-snf! I’m allergic t-to dust..” Chase’s head tips back slightly, and as Foreman looks over he can see the younger man’s nostrils flare into circles, irritated beyond the point of stopping what’s happening.

“IhNGkt! hh-ihGKt-uhew!”

Foreman hears the messiness of the second sneeze, a silent beat, and then a sniffle that tells him Chase definitely doesn’t have tissues or anything to clean himself up with. The image in the other man’s brain of his coworker miserably allergic and pink nosed sniffling mess back up desperately is enough to make him squirm.

Turning around, Chase looks just as allergic as he’s thought- his eyes are red and wet, his nose is pink and mess shines against the rims of his nostrils, and the bridge of his nose is creased from rubbing at the itch.

“Bless you.”

“Tha’gks, let’s get out of h-here-nGKt’uhew! God, sorry, that sn-snf! snuck up on me…” Chase snaps his head down, barely covering as a sneeze assaults him.

Foreman opts not to say anything, instead nodding and following the Australian out of the house, dreading the long car ride back to the hospital. Dreading or maybe excited, he’s not entirely sure anymore.

As expected, the ride is a test of his patience and willpower. Chase rubs at his nose with his wrist, his knuckles, with the tissues Foreman finally thrusts at him. His nose is a mess; wet and pink and twitching, and his eyes are bloodshot. They’ve both got dust all over them no doubt as Chase stifles sneezes into balled up tissues, barely containing the amount of mess that’s inevitable with the severity of his allergy. After a particularly stuffy nose blow, Chase groans and clears his throat.

“God I’mb disgusti’g,” he croaks out, voice tired from sneezing.

“Yeah, you kinda are,” the words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them.

A blink, a disbelieving huff, a sniffle, and then a laugh.

“At least you’re ho’dest,” Chase mumbles, leaning back into the seat as he rubs at his face roughly.

“Stop rubbing, you’re gonna make it worse you idiot.”

“So sweet, take me to d-snf! Dinner first, the’d you ca’d worry over mbe.”

“In your dreams.”

[coldshrugs]

cw: death mentions

so. a few years ago now, my grandpa died on thanksgiving. it was after dinner at my mom's house (he lived with her during that last year). it was a really good dinner. all of the family was there and everyone got along for once. he seemed really pleased to be in the middle of it all.

about an hour after everyone left, he died.

last night i got a call from my sister that our other grandpa was at the hospital with critically low oxygen levels, and that he may not last the night. we both rushed there right away.

i will be honest, i've neglected seeing most of my family for the last four years. covid has given me a touch of agoraphobia, my neurologist worried this might lean into OCD. this fear coupled with some extreme burnout means i'm still struggling with "being normal" in the world and wrangling my instinct to isolate or check out completely.

anyway, i didn't exactly plan for my first time seeing my grandfather after such a long time to be like this. he had his humor and his interest, he was hungry and he wanted to go home. more than anything, he wanted a damn cigarette. but he was ashen, papery. he looked so tired (but maybe he was just that bored from sitting in the ER for hours).

his oxygen stabilized while i was at the hospital, though no one can say how long it'll last. he'll have some scans and then maybe go home today. maybe to die. who knows?

i don't speak to my dad (well, my sister's dad, but you know how weird families can get) or his wife, or the other kids besides my sister. so if i want to see my grandpa again, i have to endure people who make me uncomfortable, people who dislike "people like me" (black, queer), even though they "love" me.

it's thanksgiving week. i have so much to be thankful for, mostly the patience of my family, partner, and friends for dealing with me even if i try not to let folks see the full extent of how fragile i feel most days. but i just want this week to be over. to find out if lightning is going to strike twice.

all of this is to explain (without having to have the individual conversations) that if i'm a little bit withdrawn for the rest of the month, or year, here's why.

[hypnoneghoul]

I forgot to add this in the first one, but a continuation to my thoughts. As someone who lives in a country with a... decent... (sometimes, as I had to beg my gp for 5 years to send me to specialists for my stomach pains (I have been diagnosed with gastritis) and headaches (no clue why for now but getting tests done, my neurologist thinks I might've had a brain infection... not scary at all and I refuse to believe for now) and her the entire time blaming it on a "growing organism") medical system, I feel absolutely no jealousy towards you. Everyone deals how they can in their situation and makes the best of what they can. Needing or taking medication isn't something people brag about, and neither are illnesses. It's problems that people face day to day and often for the rest of their lives. In these things there's no space for jealousy or bragging. People who think there is, must be out of their damn minds.

Keep living your life how you want, i wish you all the best and let the haters hate. <3

-the new anon (i'm not putting this one as anon bc I do not care if people come for me for what I said. I will stand for my opinions.)

I genuinely don't know what else I could say here apart from thank you for saying this, again <3

[tj-crochets]

Hey y’all! Can you please send me pictures of your favorite animals?  I am stressing out about all -ologists I’ll be going to over the next few months and could really use a distraction. On the one hand, I am grateful I can see these doctors, and that my new PCP is taking my health issues seriously and referring me to specialists. On the other, I have been caught in a never ending merry go round of specialists for more than a decade. I am tired. I never get answers, they always just take money and refer me to a new specialist in a loop, and the latest loop has led to the discovery that I am allergic to neurologists.  So...please send me pictures of your favorite animals (for plushie inspiration, and also just because animals are adorable)

[bbcphile]

Ohhhhhh (AKA. Happy Anniversary to Me: Escape from the Mold House Edition)

The last week has been A Struggle and while there has definitely been plenty of Bad Shit going on (bad medical news about a friend, having a retraumatizing medical experience, some rough anniversaries of other things that brought up trauma memories, and learning that my gallbladder is very likely a ticking time bomb and btw, everyone please cross your fingers it doesn't rupture and go septic?), it didn't feel like it was quite at the level of Bad Enough (by my incredibly warped standards from too many decades of trauma) to warrant how much of a tailspin I was in.

Well. Now I have figured out the missing piece and am feeling SO MUCH BETTER.

But holy shit, the expression "The body keeps score" is so damn accurate, because of course my body was freaking the fuck out about a very traumatic anniversary that I had conveniently temporarily blocked out even though it was only two years ago (oh dissociative disorders).

To learn about the "My Apartment Almost Killed Me" Saga, keep reading below.

Soooo, here's the backstory: in May of 2022, my health, which had been rapidly tanking over the previous 9 months, took a dramatic nose dive. I was either sleeping or nearly passed out most of the time and couldn't walk across the living room without basically keeling over face first onto the ground because my muscles would go on strike, and then I would have to lie there, unable to move, until @sufficientlylargen could literally pick me up off the ground and put me on the sofa, because the muscle weakness was so bad I couldn't even lift my head or push myself up to my elbows. I had also been in and out of the ER with stroke-like symptoms, but none of the members of my medical team could figure out what was wrong. It was terrifying.

Until one day, at the very end of May, I realized I had been walking without falling over at PT and then stopped being able to walk as soon as I walked into our apartment. I repeated the experiment a few times, and realized that yep, there was definitely something in the apartment that was mostly responsible for whatever the hell was happening. We packed a bag for me and found a friend who let me crash at their place for a week while we hired an air quality expert to come and test our place. It turns out that we had 2 feet of stachybotrys mold growing up the walls of our basement, and the combination of neurotoxins from the stachybotrys plus my MCAS was literally poisoning and killing me. Over the next few weeks, we got rid of 85% of our belongings (including several hundred books, all our clothes, some of my favorite xmas ornaments growing up, which were just about the only happy things about my childhood, and most of our furniture) because we couldn't clean them enough to keep me from keeling over when I was exposed to them, packed everything else (on the porch--because I couldn't go inside--after soaking it all in ammonia so we wouldn't bring any spores into our new place), and simultaneously house and apartment hunted to try to find a place we could move into ASAP because I was supposed to be having neurosurgery in over a month and needed a place to recuperate, and every minute we delayed was a risk I'd permanently lose function due to nerve/brain/spinal column damage. (Things were made more difficult by the fact that there was a non-zero chance I could be paralyzed by the surgery so we needed to find an apartment that didn't have stairs in case I couldn't walk.) There was other drama during this time, too (eg. my new neurologist, who I had been waiting 9 months to see, closed her practice the day before my appointment with her without making any referrals, my new PCP accused me of drug-seeking when I was trying to make pain management plans for after my surgery, etc. etc.), which didn't help. But at least, within 2 weeks of moving out of the Mold House, as we'd dubbed it, I started being able to walk more than a few blocks and to even just think about writing again (and, ya know, also regularly speak complete sentences, since sometimes the neurotoxins had taken that, too), so we knew that we'd made the right decision.

Anyway, the good news is, we found a place and moved in on July 6th, so we only had to spend a month and a bit living in friends' guest rooms, hotels, and airbnbs with our two cats (one of whom developed a UTI and ear infection from the stress and mold, so we were also medicating her), and we were able to postpone my neurosurgery until February, and the neurosurgery was a success, which is why I'm alive and able to do things like write meta and fic again!

All this to say, I hadn't realized until I saw a thing about it on FB Memories (lol) that it had been 2 years since my apartment was literally killing me and I was abjectly terrified. And it never fails to amaze me that my body (and some parts of my mind) clearly remember anniversaries like that even if I don't, because my anxiety will be through the roof and I will be having more flashbacks about Unrelated Trauma Things and just generally feeling like my resilience is at about half its normal level. My working theory is that those aspects that remember the anniversary assume it's happening again and I never got out (oh emotional flashbacks. How I hate you.), and it's only once I make the connection consciously and can reflect on 1. how terrible it was (yay validation?) and 2. the fact that it's over and I survived through sheer stubbornness and good research skills (again) that I can get back to my baseline and things (like writing) become so much more fun and easier.

Last reflection on this shitshow: last year, I was too busy recovering from my neurosurgery to notice what I was feeling about the 1 year anniversary of the Escape From The Mold House (or at least, if I had any reflections on it, I don't remember them), but I'd guess it was probably still too upsetting and traumatizing for me to be ready to look at the memories directly. But right now, at least, I'm really proud of myself. I mean, all of that was horrifying and traumatizing, and I wouldn't wish it on ANYONE, but I'm really proud of myself for saying 'fuck this, something is wrong, and I think I know what, and I am going to solve it because I can, and I refuse to die like this.' I sometimes forget that under all the anxiety and trauma and insecurity, I am fundamentally incredibly stubborn, determined, confident in my opinions, and willing to fight for myself.

I'm hoping I can hold onto that reminder as I go forward, especially depending on what I learn about whether my gallbladder is in fact a ticking time bomb. I can and will argue with my doctors to take this seriously if I have to; I just don't want to need to.

[realasslesbian]

Idc who this upsets, but I actually hated the whole forced mask wearing era with a burning passion. As someone with epilepsy which is aggravated by heat, it was absolute hell to have to wear that shit because (and fuck what y’all abled-bodies wanna say) it DOES impact my breathing and make me overheat. And I actually cannot just ‘go get a medical exemption’ because a) they don’t give that shit out like free candy, I had to go pay $500 to a neurologist to get that lil note, and b) I could staple that med cert to my fucking forehead and still get people losing their minds every time I went anywhere without a mask. Everyone like ‘oh disabled people are so terrified of COVID-19 so you should think of them before ragging on masks like this’ as though everyone ain’t already spent the last three decades of my life not giving a singular shit about my disability, but now suddenly want to act like they care about disabled people? Why tf should I care about giving anyone the spicy cough when no one has ever given a fuck how many seizures their actions cause me? Y’all want me to put my own health at risk by wearing this mask, so you don’t get a lil sore throat, when y’all will remain deliberately oblivious to epilepsy and other heat-related illnesses, right up until someone dies, and then you’ll still have a giggle about that too? Way more people be dying every day from heat-related illnesses than from COVID-19, so where’s my mandatory air-conditioning and icepack stations at every street corner? Fuck hand sanitizer stations, provide me a free cold drink. Additionally, mask wearing was the ONLY thing people got this fucking turnt about too. It’s not like any of y’all were social distancing (something which would have actually helped me with my disability lmao). No one was getting booted out of stores for standing on my damn heels every time I had to get in a queue. Anyway, after the first twenty times I got asked to leave a store for not wearing a mask (despite having that magical medical certificate) I made up my own mask by getting four of those ‘valves’, absolutely gutting the inside of them to allow unrestricted airflow, and then stitching them into a linen mask. Still uncomfortable, fo sure, but a lot better than having to deal with hot air on my face and under my sunglasses while already struggling not to pass out in the middle of the Australian summer. 

[thegreymoon]

I just had the longest, most fruitless fight with my mother about the fact that the Julian calendar exists and that this is the calendar that the Orthodox Church uses. She was holding the Church calendar in her hands the entire time, looking straight at it, with both Julian and Gregorian dates printed on the same page, with the TV blaring about how the entire country is preparing to celebrate the Orthodox New Year tomorrow. I did not ask her to know how or why it is different from the current international calendar (even though I explained, multiple times, using small words). Just to acknowledge that it EXISTS.

She refused.

Now, she has always been downright stupid when it comes to religion of any kind. Always been extremely pig-headed and unpleasant when confronted with anything new and even a bit out of her comfort zone. This is a woman who declared perfectly nice scenery some 200 km away from her hometown in her own damn country "ugly" because it was not what she was used to. Travelling anywhere with her is just torture. She is a woman who absolutely refuses to learn or open her mind to anything that is not completely in line with what she already knows. Growing up with her has been so restricting, invalidating and oppressive. I will be dealing with assorted mental health issues for the rest of my life that are largely (although not entirely) her fault. I am convinced there is an undiagnosed personality disorder going on there (although I somewhat suspect that very few people in my family, especially the women, are actually mentally sound instead of just undiagnosed).

However, this was extreme even for her and I am worried.

This is not the first time I've noticed it but it may be the first time I'm saying it out loud. I think that she is in the early (or maybe not so early) stages of dementia. She is almost 84 years old, becoming weaker and more helpless by the day. She does see a neurologist and they did detect that her brain is deteriorating, but luckily, she has been functional so far. In spite of all our differences, I do love her a lot because she is my mother and I don't want to lose her.

I just feel so hopeless and sad.

I know my own old age will be lonely and terrible, if I even make it that far.

There are days when everything feels just so pointless.

I no longer hope for anything, just that maybe death itself won't be prolonged and excruciating.

[regular-lord-reckoner]

little update on me, i guess

i'm feeling a little more like myself, i guess. slowly but surely.

i've appreciated being able to just take it slow and steady one day at a time because that's all i can really do right now.

this week was kinda rough, though

for one thing, one of my managers accused me of not doing something i know for a fact i did do and that it's another person who's guilty of what she's talking about but for whatever reason she just...assumed it was me??

i did stand my ground on that one, though, i was like, "can you give me an example of where that's happened because i actually found a bug in the system last week so i want to make sure it's not that again because i'm pretty sure i did what you're saying i didn't" and she was just like, "i don't have it right now, i'll send you some in the future if i come across them!!!" like yeah, okay i'll hold my breath on that one

and listen, i know i've made some mistakes here and there on the charts i've been doing, i'll own that. fair enough. but this other thing she's talking about is separate and i know i go above and beyond sometimes while the other person doing the same thing i am is just flying through the fucking things and it's because as i've noticed myself, she's not doing the thing i got a ~helpful reminder~ email about

in any case, i wasn't wrong in thinking that shit was coming out of left field because on the same day she also spoke so awfully to one of the schedulers that she straight up quit, so!!! there's that.

then on thursday i had my yearly neurology appointment which was fine, he pretty much just asks if my medicine is still working and if we need to adjust the dose, does a quick little check up and then sends me home with my renewed prescription and an appointment for next year.

the problem was it's the first time i've really had to extensively interact with someone who doesn't know what's been going on with me and so i was just sort of in a daze the whole time because part of me was like...should i mention it?? is it relevant to my health??

because i noticed my blood pressure was a little higher than usual which to be fair could be due to multiple things but like...i dunno, maybe also grief and the lack of sleep i've been getting? maybe!

ultimately though i decided not to mention it and when he asked how i was doing i just gave him The Script "i'm good, how about you?" and things just moved on from there

we did talk a little about tears for fears, though since i was wearing a tears for fears shirt. he likes them AND he's seen the cure recently so...very cool neurologist. he also prescribed me to listen to talk talk so i'll get on that at some point

anyway, after the visit i was like, "well, that was a whole ordeal, let me go pick up some lunch at the new chipotle that just opened up closer to my house!"

and i knew that i'd have to pass the funeral home to get to it and was prepared for that although it still kinda stings (even though it's the same damn funeral home we used for ashley so like you'd think i'd be used to it by now but)

what i was not prepared for, though, as i was pulling out of the parking lot was to see the hospice place we used right behind the chipotle so...that's neat!!

also later on that day my mom told me about someone else we know whose father also just passed away and unfortunately he went the same way my sister did, so...thrusday was just trigger after trigger after trigger!!

i'll also just mention this and try not to focus on it too much because i think she might actually be working on it now, but my mom's drinking lately has been...not great

i get that if there's ever a time to do it that it would be now and i've been pretty patient and cool about it up until recently and have started saying something

i actually had a meltdown about it this week because it's just...a lot.

as much as i understand it's just so many things wrapped together

i just lost one parent, i'm not really prepared to watch another one go, even if it's slowly

family of four to three to now two and it's like she's speedrunning to make it one

there's also just the...yay, i never get to stop taking care of someone!!! element of it

it's like i told her, part of why she thinks she can drink so much and that everything is fine, it'll be okay, it's fine is because both dad and i went behind her to make it that way

together we worked as a team to make sure she got to bed safely, that her phone was inside and plugged up, that all the doors were closed and locked for the night, that the dog was inside and put to bed, that all the food was put up, etc., etc.

now it's just me.

and i've been doing it now for a little while. i don't say anything, i don't bring my feelings into it at all. i'll just gently usher her to bed when i feel like she's had enough even though i know she'll still get up and have a couple more when she thinks i've gone to sleep and so i'll go downstairs again a few times just to make sure she's really finally safely asleep

but yeah, that's kinda reached its boiling point so i dunno, we'll see

this is the first weekend i've had where i haven't had to worry and i'm not so naive as to think it'll be like this from now on so i've just been trying to enjoy it while it lasts

i've also been spending as much time as possible in the pool until we close it next weekend

it is........very cold in there but if it gets above 80 degrees i'm getting in there and getting in the last of my pool exercises and then immediately getting back out lol

but yeah, i think that's about it for now

i'm still doing my therapy every other week and am still journaling away.

i've had a couple of dreams where i think my dad has visited me. there's always just a different vibe when it's someone who's passed, it's hard to explain, but my therapist said it's real so we'll go with that

he never really says much, he just smiles and is just there, looking like himself.

that's been comforting.

in any case, i'm hopeful october will be a good month because it's october, duh!!

i've also taken the week of my birthday off as a treat to myself and even if i do nothing but sleep all that week i'll be happy

i'm going to try to enjoy the rest of my weekend and i hope if you're reading this you have a good one as well and may we both have a better week ahead as we move into spoopy season!

[orphancookie69]

Health Rant: Neurolens

What in the heck is a Neurolens? Well, I will tell you. Oh, and this is a friendly reminder to schedule your annual eye exam at your local optometrist today! 

Background:

Let’s start with my bias/background. So I have always had good healthcare growing up, my dad worked very hard to make that a reality. I am in a partnership and we have healthcare together. Vision, Dental, and Health. It is an expensive thing to have, I have learned as an adult. The last couple of years has seen a lot happening on the health front, and in dealing with IVF stuff it was easy to forget about Vision. The last time I had my eyes checked, was at least 3 years ago. Well, my partner mentioned they wanted to cut VSP as we were not using it much and told me to get my eyes checked. 

I wear glasses and boy do I look good in them. (Think sexy librarian). I believe last time I got the prescription done at Brea Optometry and processed the glasses at Costco Vision Center. And I have not been keeping up with my annual eye exam. I use my glasses for eye strain from migraines, night driving, and computer/reading stuff. 

So I got my eyes checked out, this is a weird thing to notice but in getting my exam done-I used all the machines in the testing room! I honestly thought that my left eye was worse than my right, and it turns out I had that backwards. My optometrist mentioned a new kind of lens that neurologist paired up with optometrist to make: Neurolens. First, why would I (or anyone suffering with migraines/headaches), need this? My eyes want to veer left/right vs being straight ahead, my mind forces them straight ahead. When my eyes overwork trying to be “normal” the strain is felt along the jaw or neck muscles, because in the human body-everything is connected. I myself usually have a small to large pain scale migraine daily-I suffer from Chronic Non-Nauseating Migraines- since I was in my preteen years. 

The Neurolens will bring the information to my eyes, compared to my eyes working to find the information I am looking at. Less strain, in theory, is less pain. Less pain, well, that is probably self explanatory. While I have lived with pain long enough to do so with professional ease, a bit of a break would be heavenly. It’s probably a strange thing to be afraid of, but I do a lot and deal with a lot of pain while I am it-and worry that I won’t be able to finish my duties. Or that I will push myself too far and I won’t be able to drive the one time a month I can’t drive through the pain to take myself to urgent care. 

Anyways, so I bit the expensive bullet and decided to try blue light (good for glare from computers), transition, and neurolens glasses for just under $1000. My partner is somewhat ok with this and wants me to save this for tax purposes later when we do our 2023 taxes in 2024. The Neurolens was 80% of the cost of the whole glasses, my optometrist said that only about 1,000 offices offer it-which just in OC alone there could be 1,000 optometry offices. The number seems high, but not in the bigger picture. 

I gotta tell you though, I feel hella bad about it. I will get my money back and more in daily use-especially if I am not getting new glasses every year but like every couple of years. But man, I feel bad. Like to a certain degree, it is not my fault my mom did a spinal tap on me when I was a preteen and triggered migraines that run on her side of the family. But damn if I don’t want someone else to pay the price for someone elses mistakes. But not much I can do about that. 

Research:

Anyways, it will be less than 2 weeks before my new glasses get in. In the meantime, let’s play the research game! Here is the site so you can follow along in the research: 

https://www.neurolens.com/

93% Sucess Rate, according to Google. Those are some decent odds, in the past couple of years alone I have taken on things with less likely odds than that. Anyone here who prefers videos, Youtube has quite a few videos. 

Reality: 

I got my glasses in, they came in a sooner than I thought they would. I put them on, and man I am telling you I could feel the changing location of strain in my eye/forehead area right away. My sense of direction, or I should say distance, and my sense of balance was immediately altered. How big a room looked before, and how small after....I was a little bit scared to be honest. Some of the thoughts I had were: are my eyes this bad? did I always have a dizzy issue? Oh, that was not a good rabbit hole. They told me to wear them in general for a couple of days to break them in. 

Day 1 of breaking them was a little rough. I am hoping its short term pain for long term positive gain. Day 2 was a little bit better, so some hope there. Day 2 is much better than Day 1, and Day 3 is better. 

“3 Days For The World To Turn Right Side Up Again” (There is a great Bones episode that shows this. More info here: https://gizmodo.com/does-your-brain-really-have-the-power-to-see-the-world-5905180)

Aside from the “breaking the shoe in” phase, how are things? Having had mental pain for, most of the last 20 years-I have learned to live with the weight of the mental pain. There is a weight to it, while that doesn't seem to make much sense. Since getting the glasses, there is less mental pain weight and its really weird to get used to. It is a good thing so far, but it is also longer than I would of thought for the rewiring process. My “idea” of what is close and what is not, and my eyes being reworked is almost constant? It so far is different, more good than bad. Shocking, like really-what the heck is happening by me just wearing glasses? Like I should understand this because I have lived with it and researched it, but as I experience it-it confounds me.