#do I have neuropathy we just don’t know

[hihigherdi]

A long time ago when Trump was first in office, I had a sustained two week anxiety attack, convinced we were going to experience a significant war and I had to be prepared. I’d just gotten a big bonus and I spent a ton of it on survivor gear - all of those buckets of rice, beans, dehydrated food, camping gear, solar lights - so much more. I made go bags for work, my car and home. The primary one was stolen when I first moved in here via a break in where thieves stole a lot of stuff people were storing in the garage. The backpack was in my parking spot - poof, gone.

I lugged so much of it here - over the years I’ve slowly simplified it but I’ve been a little afraid to let all of it go. it started this habit of buying extras - why not buy three Justin’s boxes of peanut butter packets even though I only need one? Why not have five ketchups so I never run out?

When R was here organizing, I *saw* it - all of the canned food that had expired, all of the stuff I was keeping in the pantry that I didn’t use because I didn’t even know I had it. She gently said “if you feel like you want to bake cookies, you can just zip over to the store and buy flour.” Part of it was never having enough food when we were little - we could afford it, my mom just never bought enough for us. It’s why I’d drive around on Christmas looking for snack food before all the kids came over. Granted, that could be my food insecurity speaking and my filter was grounded from that, it’s a very likely possibility.

Anyway. R is coming back for my last infusion bringing her BFF A who is an organizer and a professional chef. She’s going to organize so much of my stuff but the deal is, I only have what I really want to keep, consider getting rid of the extras of things I don’t need (including three spatulas, etc) and focusing on keeping what I love and use for myself every week instead of all of the imaginary dinner parties I throw in my head. So that’s what I’ve done today, after…11 hours of sleep? I’ve been slowly whittling it all down and it feels so great. I’m 90% done. It’s not as much as I thought but it’s just so good to let it go.

My surgery is tentatively scheduled for October 01, pending what happens with this biopsy on Friday. That feels lightning fast. My last chemo infusion is next Wednesday - I’m not going to lie, I’m afraid of it based on this last one, I was so debilitated by the fatigue, I had more hair shedding than usual, no appetite and the peripheral neuropathy was hard so I’m going to try to freeze my hands and feet during the infusion to prevent it. It has definitely lessened, thank God but it’s not gone away entirely. It can take a long time.

I cry so frequently these days, even writing that it’s the last one. I’ve held it all together for five months, and I can feel the emotional and mental reserves I’ve leaned on to that beginning to crumble. That’s probably good. Things are starting to get……thin when I’m sleeping. My dreams are wild and I heard repeated knocking three times last night. My cats were on high alert. I pit myself in a golden bubble and reminded myself that I live in a building where people could be knocking at other doors, not likely at 3am but it helped. I stayed up until 4:30am watching The Office and then slept hard until 9am.

I’m numb when I think of the MRI biopsy on Friday, two of my worst things happening at the same time is like a cruel joke (biopsies aren’t painful but just traumatic waiting for the results). I’m strong - I can and will do this. And then chemo, and then the surgery which completely freaks me out - I have a massive fear of “going under” - and then I’ll know what happens after those biopsies come back.

In talking about work, my oncologist recommend that I extend my leave of absence to at least March of next year. The neuropathy is concerning her as are my cognitive tests, and I think for a living. She reminded me how they have taken my body to the point of decline where the basics work but there’s a lot of damage. And the mental damage of all of the biopsies on top of that, she thinks I need time. I agree with her. So I’m going to pursue that, it means I live on a lot less and I don’t think I am guaranteed a job when I go back but I’m not worried about that.

[dykesynthezoid]

It genuinely makes me sad to think about how normalized and common it seems to be for people to be completely disconnected from their own bodily reality. But what about trauma! And neurodivergence! And chronic pain! You say.

And yeah, I have all of those. I understand. I know firsthand how difficult those things can make it to connect to your own body. In fact I’d say that learning to feel inside my body has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my entire life.

But holy shit do I also think it’s worth it. I think it’s a skill you can grow even if your experience of it will always be different from other people’s, and I think it’s so, so worth growing. It’s also a process that’s only going to work on your own time in your own way. You may only ever be in a position to approach that change at certain times in your life or under certain conditions. And that’s okay. It’s going to look different for everyone. Understanding the somatic experience is still an emerging field with developing research; there’s so much we still don’t understand, and clearly everyone needs an approach that’s unique and highly individualized.

People will say things like “but aren’t we really just our brains? since that’s where we experience everything??” and I’ll be like what are you talking about!!! Your body is a NETWORK!!! Our brains are just the thing interpreting the information— the information has to come from somewhere first. Take it from someone dealing with peripheral neuropathy— when connections are damaged in a body part far away from the brain, you feel it. Because it’s a part of you, a part of the complex network of tissues and fluids that make up you. You are your body, even when you don’t want to be, even when it’s terrifying to be. And thank god!

[find-roronoa-zoro]

Roronoa Zoro X CisFem Reader

27

Thatch and Zoro entered the room nearly dropping the food they’d brought back when they saw you hunched over Ace’s chest crying as he weakly stroked your hair.

 

“It’s ok,” he murmured unsure if it was the truth or not.

“I know,” you sniffled, “that’s why I’m crying.”

 

Thatch set the tray he was holding on the nearest table and slumped over you.

 

“Guys,” Ace croaked, “it’s really hard to breathe with you like this.”

 

You were just so relieved to see him awake and hear his voice, it was hard not to cry.

 

“You’re awake!” Thatch sobbed.

“It’s like I have two moms.” The raven chuckled glancing at Zoro.

“Ok, maybe you guys should let him breathe.” Your boyfriend suggested calmly moving to peel you away from your sibling.

 

As you stood Zoro swept the tears from your cheeks and smiled softly. Though he wasn’t a fan of seeing you cry, at least for once it was over something good.

 

“Oh!” you gasped yanking your phone from your pocket, “I have to tell everyone.”

 

 

 

The Crew :

 

You: He’s awake!

Phoenix_blue: I’m at the office but I can be there soon.

Dragon925: How is he?

You: he seems fine but doesn’t remember much. Law will be in soon to check on him.

PirateKing98: Me & Nami will be there in a few hours

Dragon925: Al and I were out getting breakfast but we’re on our way. Should we stop for anything?

You: We’ll worry about that later. See you guys soon.

 

 Law entered shortly after to perform some neuropathy tests.

 

“Well, he doesn’t seem to have any issues with nerve damage or motor skills.” Law glanced at you and your oldest brother and then turned back to Ace, “Do you remember anything that happened the night of the fight?”

Ace pondered for a moment, “Uhm…I know I had to fight some old man.” His face scrunched as he fought harder to remember.

Law placed a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t push yourself. If you happen to recall later let me or Detective Smoker know.”

“Yeah, of course.” Your freckled brother nodded.

 

“Well,” Law stood placing the clipboard back at the foot of Ace’s bed, “We’ll keep him one more night just for observation, but I expect a full recovery.”

“Thank you,” Thatch murmured.

“I’ll be back during my rounds later.” The doctor reached the door just as Sabo and Al entered.

“So how bad do I look?” Ace asked wiggling into a more seated position.

“Remember that time Luffy put gum in your hair?” Sabo chuckled as Ace frowned.

“That bad?”

“Worse.” The blond confirmed.

“Your hair isn’t so bad,” Al chirped, “it’s at least fixable”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “your face on the other hand…”

“Gimme a mirror!” Ace demanded.

“It was a lot worse four days ago.” Zoro added handing him the small mirror from your overnight bag.

 “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” the raven gaped at himself for a moment and then reached up slowly running his fingers over the bruised swollen parts of his face, “Holy shit.”

 

Your chest burned a bit watching him realize just how serious the situation was. Zoro’s gaze fell over you taking in your reaction as well. He brought his arms up to wrap around your shoulders and reeled you into his chest.

 

“My hair…” Ace’s busted lip jutted out just a bit.

“We’ll fix it.” You murmured with a smile.

“Not you.” His ruby gaze snapped up to you, “Not after the last time.”

“I can do it.” Al volunteered.

“No one better than the licensed professional.” Thatch commented still drying his tears.

“We’ll have to wait until you’re home and feeling a bit better.” You added.

“I can just bring everything to the house when you’re ready.” Al smiled softly.

 

The day carried on slowly as your siblings came in short stints to visit your younger brother. Thatch volunteered to come back in the evening for the final night shift, just to make sure Ace was comfortable and not left alone.

 

“Did you have anything in mind for dinner?” you asked Zoro shedding your hoodie in the doorway of his apartment.

“Delivery is already on the way.” He answered pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Oh, planning ahead, Tiger?”

“I had to considering most places would be busier today.” He answered stepping back into his room.

 

You plopped down on the sofa wondering what was so special about today that meant restaurants would be busier. Was another snowstorm blowing through? People always had to get out of the house before possibly being snowed in for a few days.

 

It wasn’t a weekend.

 

You sighed.

 

 

 

You really had tunnel vision this week and couldn’t think of a single reason, until your greenette emerged carrying a small magenta gift bag and single white tulip with a purple ribbon tied around the stem.

 

Valentine’s day.

 

You’d completely forgotten in all of the drama that surrounded Ace’s hospital stay.

 

“It isn’t much.” Zoro started, handing you the flower first, “I thought you’d rather have a quiet night.”

“You didn’t have to do anything, I’m so terrible I didn’t even remember.” You accepted the flower and the gift bag as he offered it.

“There’s been a lot going on,” he scoffed, “I wouldn’t have expected you to. So, don’t worry about it and remember I’m bad at this gift thing.”

 “Yeah I bought that lie on Christmas.” You rolled your eyes as he took a seat next to you.

 

Tugging the shimmery white tissue paper from the bag your fingers brushed against something soft. You pulled out a small purple lop-eared rabbit plushie. It was actually very cute and about the same size as the little tiger you’d won for Zoro so long ago, you could even assume it was made by the same company just judging by the facial expression and materials used.

He watched with slightly flushed cheeks as you marveled at the toy. The smile on your lips and amusement in your eyes was something he could get addicted to. If you looked like this every time you received a gift he’d have to start giving you things every day.

 

“She’s so cute ~.” You sing-songed.

“I’m glad you like it.” He rubbed his nape and glanced away, “They’re still in business…the company that made mine.”

“How did you even know that?” You shifted to face him.

“The tag,” he muttered, “all I had to do was look it up.”

“So you ordered it for me?” knowing he went through the trouble of getting you a truly matching plush made your chest tight in an exhilarating way.

 

He never struck you as the romantic type. Truthfully, he wasn’t, but for you he tried and it was adorable.

 

“Yeah.” He murmured quickly turning back to you as you climbed into his lap and cupped his cheeks.

“How did I get so deserving?” you asked running your fingers along his jaw while he looked into your eyes and smirked.

“How did I?” he kissed your lips.

“Careful,” you smooched him back, “that’ll go straight to my head.”

 

He chuckled nipping your bottom lip while sliding his hands over your hips pressing you against him. Slowly rocking into him, your hands traveled into his hairline never losing contact as you offered short sweet kisses between long deep ones. Zoro hummed and shuddered while you gently tugged at his short tresses.

His hand dropped to the cushion next to you raking your gifts onto the floor before turning and pushing you back into the sofa. You mewled hooking your legs around his waist while he kissed down your neck and chest. A short sigh pushed passed your lips as he rolled his hips into yours.

Your fingertips danced down the back of his neck and dove into his shirt dragging your nails between his shoulder blades as he bit down on your nipple through your clothes. Quickly your hands shot back into his hair while his left caressed your thigh and his right worked under your shirt to free your chest of its lacy confines. Arching your back, you worked against him hoping to gain some much-needed friction. Sensing your objective, he lowered himself further allowing you to grind on him, the airy sounds you made only getting him more excited.

An abrupt wrap on the door halted all motion allowing your huffs to fill the silent space. Zoro’s face dropped into your half-covered bosom with a heavy sigh. Another quick knock followed by a loud, “hello?!” had him withdrawing completely.

 

“Dinner.” He muttered, rising with an annoyed frown between his brows.

 

You chuckled sitting up and adjusting yourself while he did the same during his short trek.

 

“This better be the best damn Chinese food.” He grumbled opening the door.

_______________

 

 

A few days after Ace was released from the hospital Al arrived with all of her equipment to cut Ace's hair.

 

He sat in a kitchen chair you’d moved into the den with a smock draped around him. Carefully Al removed the bandage on his head and began trimming his poor uneven locks. He cringed a bit hearing her fire up the clippers and move up the back of his head. It had been a long time since his hair was this short. Women always seemed to prefer his shaggy look, though lately he hadn’t been that interested in anyone really. Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore Al’s closeness as she moved around him humming quietly to herself.

 

“I think we can keep some length on the top.” she murmured tussling his hair with her fingers as she spritzed some water to make her work easier.

 

Ace sat quiet eyes still closed lost in thought.

 

“Hello?” Al poked his cheek, “Earth to Ace?”

His face contorted at the unexpected contact making her chuckle, “Hmm? What?”

“Ready to shave it all off?” she stepped back and smirked at the oblivious male.

“What?!” he jolted up in the seat.

“Cálmate, I was kidding.” Al grasped his shirt and guided him back into the chair, “I said we’ll keep some length on top. Is that alright? Or do you want it all short?”

“Oh, uh yeah…I’d like to keep it if we can.” he muttered glancing up at her as she nodded and reached for the scissors.

 

Fifteen minutes later Al called you into the den after drying and styling Ace’s final look. When you entered the room she was removing the smock and brushing of his shoulders. His ruby’s trailed over her face and then caught sight of you causing a slight blush to rise to his freckled cheeks.

 

You entered raising a brow, “Looking dapper, Freckles.”

“This could be your new look.” Al handed him a mirror.

“Thanks,” he replied distractedly turning his head to check all his angles.

“There’s nothing I can do around your stitches, but we can trim everything down again until it fills in that way it all grows evenly.”

 

Ace hummed again. You found his bashful demeanor a bit odd but chose to ignore it until Al exited the room.

 

“What was that?” you asked watching his gaze trail after her as she left.

“I dunno?” your brother shrugged.

“You never blush or gawk like that.”

 

He shrugged again.

 

“Ace,” you furrowed your brows, “she isn’t single.”

“What? I know.” he sighed.

“And she’s with Sabo.” you commented as if he needed reminding.

“It’s nothing, shut up.”  he grumbled pushing passed you.

[cultkinkcoven]

One thing I love so much about Father Lucifer and Lord Leviathan…. you know what, Prince Cerberus and Faviel too… is their pure patience and understanding of the human condition. It’s something that organized religion never allowed much space for in my experiences. We are always expected to make the best choice. To be pure and clean, to be better than yesterday.

Right now I’m working hard on improving some skills. I am disabled, I suffer from neuropathy and a chronic migraine disorder. These last few years I’ve been struggling with it really bad, but thanks to some new meds and some good habits I’m more or less coming out of my bad rut. My spirits have been greatly aiding me in getting back on my feet (literally).

But some days, like today, I just… don’t care. I wanna smoke weed and be lazy all day. I want to jerk off and eat like shit and let the dishes pile up. I want to be a nothing person, just for a little bit while I work up the motivation to do better tomorrow, and if not tomorrow then maybe the day after that. Whatever, I don’t care, at least not today. I don’t want to be mindful, I don’t want to be enlightened. I don’t want to make art or be inspired. I just want to be a slob.

And you know what? That’s OKAY!

Working alongside these powerful entities can sometimes feel like I have to be on the ball all the time. I have to be this living God who is always improving and learning. But I don’t, and they don’t expect me to be.

As much as they want my initiative and commitment, the truth of the matter is that I’m human. I’m not an angel or a God, that’s a good thing. It’s amazing that I get to witness and learn from these incredible spirits whilst still having the comfort of my human limits. I’m a human, not a machine, I can’t be great all the time. Being hard on myself won’t make me grow faster, it’ll just make me miserable during periods of rest.

Lucifer encourages indulgence but not depravity. Today I came to him and basically said “Father, I’m sorry I’m so tired. I’m sorry I haven’t been reading. I know I should be doing better. I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I honestly just want to crawl back into bed right now. Show me how to get rid of these feelings.”

and his response to that was “There is nothing wrong with you. Get some rest. Indulge in your pleasure and heal, human. If the moon can wax and wane then the human spirit can certainly do so as well.”

which honestly was not the answer I was expecting. I was expecting “discipline yourself”, “repeat this affirmation”, “get off your lazy ass, you’re better than this”.

Lucifer is always quick to put me on the right path when I’m swaying into bad habits or depressive states. But he assured me that that’s not what I’m going through right now.

“A lack of progress is not equivalent to failure.”

It affected me deeply to be called “human” by him like that, like he branded me with a definition. Feeble human who wants to be so much but can only do so much. Little human with enormous dreams and aspirations. Oh you, little human, don’t you know that you’re so small? Don’t you know that you are of the world? Can’t you just rest for a day? Can’t you just accept that? Don’t you know you are human?

It’s an interesting thing to think about when sitting before someone like Lucifer, who is always so beautiful and perfect in every way. Unnaturally so, inhumanly so. Making that sharp distinction between me, human, and him, God made me feel… understood…

Lol, something about that is so characteristically fatherly of him. It immediately made me feel so much better.

Within Christianity there’s this hard emphasis on being as much like God as possible, and as little like a human and possible, because humans are naturally bad and sinful. But I have to keep reminding myself that Im not stuck in that worldview anymore. I don’t have to be like God because Im not a God. Im a human. That’s a very very good thing. Being a human means that I get to witness God without the burden of being one. That’s incredible.

So today, I will probably just do a lot of nothing. Maybe I’ll go on a walk later and feed some crows. Whatever I do, I don’t have to feel guilty about it. I’m only human, after all.

Thank you, Father Lucifer. I love you.

[bisexual-yuri]

Talent and Blessings Don’t Matter in the Hospital (Lessons from ECMC)

There is only so much process you can reasonably expect someone to do 

I feel like I’ve hit my limit

Shit’s got me feeling bored and stupid like the village idiot 

Need my creativity need a job 

I’m all full of all sort of needs to sort out this agony of idleness

They say it’s a kindness to myself to take so much time to myself but what do I do all by myself except circle a drain I don’t want to drain out of?

Can I take a plane or a train off this cliff of boredom without alarming me and everyone that loves me?

Still processing neuropathy and dark shit discussed in therapy 

Like the fact that the nurses sedated me against my will needlessly because they were scared of me 

Don’t care that they’re the real scary she’s, the real scary ones 

The ones keeping me locked away from the sun and the fan

It felt like nobody cared that the son of God sees all including patient abuse, including how if you scary enough they’ll take your fuckin’ shoes 

They don’t got a clue the trauma they causer with the drama and gel/powder painted claws, damaging psych mentality, my prayer is done so more it be

Amanda and JD, were they manic or just anxious?

Why did Corey have to take all this?

Why won’t Fawzi just get all the words out?

Why wouldn’t they just let Jaxem the fuck out?

People no danger to themselves or me

Still in lockup, docs give no fucks you see 

False profits and false prophets get out easy

Druggin’ the fun out of Aggie

You ain’t fun no more, that’s how you get free

Behavior in the health, good behavior in hell

And it doesn’t even come with Mercy

Quitting’ Cymbalta cold turkey

Can’t see color, can’t smell nothin’, feelin’ wonky

Temperature a mess, cold water on hot hands

No one cares to listen, no one really understands that big emotions are not themselves a disease

Drug’ll fuck your mind up till you can’t even see

I’m Eliza spitting’ rhymes now, not lies now, no I’m no fucking donkey

It’s a song but I wrote it in the wrong key

Singin’ red teeth, spitting truth through the nose bleed 

Now I got time to kill but no blood to spill

You can’t take anything further away from me

Robbed of all my autonomy, my work and my loves all a trifecta of purgatory

Abuse and sex crimes by blonde bitches who look at me and see witches

Plural

I’m just one person, big feelings on a fleshly mural 

Trying to make sense of the senseless violence done to me 

Trying to make sense of the senseless violence done period 

I’m deadly serious 

This shit needs to get a hard look at it 

A world full of angels seeking their halos and wings, instead get shot down with syringes and bans that take wedding rings 

No wedding ring for me, no wedding ring for Sarah not even a tattoo

In the hospital they treat you like a damn fool and then wonder why you behave any differently 

Sorry ECMC but the truth you saw in there ain’t the real me, it’s the me you brought out of me

It’s the eagle you carved out of a hummingbird that was trying to rest on a dead tree

I’m not a dead me, I’m just me, so why did you try killing me to make me whole again?

I’ll tell you doc, you have cost me all sorts of friends by locking me up in this shit 

Made some new ones too, but the anger and the loss are harder pills to swallow than anything you gave me in follow up

Divorce the PTSD, divorce from real me, you people never trusted me to take care of me

It’s scary

I know in a moment I had lost my mind, but damn is that license to be so fucking unkind? 

How am I supposed to find peace in the belly of the beast? 

How is anyone supposed to heal when you hit them hard with rules about what is and isn’t real?

Makes you wonder who’s the delusional one, the patients or the system

All I know is the needle toothed fucker takes everyone as a victim and doesn’t care if we scream or we cry

More fuel for the fire, more reasons to make people want to die to escape this

I know Al, you’re still here and you can’t take this 

Neither can I, knowing people suffer every day in this hellfire of some hospital’s fucked up design 

But what can I do, I’m just one person and I don’t even have a second shoe to drop because of what the hospital took from me 

I have a lot of friends, lot of family 

Most people ain’t so lucky

Screaming on the wind “why did you do this to me and him and her and them and everybody?”

I wish I knew an answer, I wish I had a better answer than just to scream

Maybe someday when I am healed I will have energy to dream of a better future for this

But for now, all I can do is sleep

[disabledstraydogs]

Hi hello [we are the anon that requested sdbpd+chronic pain dazai btw] we saw that you were fine with us ranting so we decided why not [it’s fine if you don’t read this as it will probably be lengthy,,][also our wording may be weird and we apologize if it is/gen]

Honestly our Main reasoning for Dazai having sdbpd is the fact he fits every single symptoms[listed below]

a decrease in the desire to sleep

Sh behaviors[such as burning,scratching,and hitting]

Risky adrenaline-seeking activities

Threats of suicide+suicide idealization

[dazai aswell shows pretty much all of the symptoms for regular BPD but we are focusing on the self destruction aspects]

I mean like his actions speak for themselves/lh

The way he’s treated also reminds us of how we are treated by [mainly our parents]bc of our sd bpd[or as our mother likes to say “borderline tendencies/derog”]/nav

Anyways that’s the simplified explanation for us thinking Dazai has sdbpd/lh [now onto the chronic pain]

Hands down Dazai 100% suffers from peripheral neuropathy wich would def cause the chronic pain 

Peripheral neuropathy is a type of nerve damage that happens when the nerves outside of the brain and in the spinal cord are damaged. It can be caused by traumatic injuries, infections, metabolic problems, inherited causes and exposure to toxins.

Wich honestly makes a lot of sense for Dazai [we don’t remember if this is canon or just implied]when in+out of  the mafia he probably has gone through torture[wich with tortures there’s a lot of different kinds] and the fact that he dose not take care of his wounds well wich prob has caused countless infections AND he fell down that elevator shaft+injected poison into his veins+has consumed many toxins before would be ample enough trauma to cause damage to his nerves. 

Wich then leaves us to the chronic pain part 

He would prob be suffering from some if not all of these symptoms [listed below]

Gradual onset of numbness, prickling, and/or tingling in his feet and/or hands. These sensations may spread upward into his legs and arms.

Sharp, jabbing, throbbing or burning pain

Extreme sensitivity to touch

Pain during activities that shouldn't cause pain[like pain in his feet when putting weight on them]

Lack of coordination and falling

Muscle weakness.

Feelings of wearing gloves/socks when hes not

The Inability to move if motor nerves are affected

And if autonomic nerves are affected he may suffer from  

Heat intolerance.

Excessive sweating/not being able to sweat.

Bowel, bladder and/or digestive problems.

Drops in blood pressure wich cause dizziness and/or lightheadedness.

Honestly at this point we just feel even worse for him/ lh 

[we do not know if this made any sort of sense  but we hope it did][and we would love to hear your thoughts/nf/gen]

[also ik we have only ever sent in 2 asks but we may plan on sending in more so i’unno if there’s a Dazai anon yet but if there isn’t perhaps that could be our sign off?/nf/genq]

Anon I love this post so much, I'm too tired to go through every point here but !!!! YEAH I agree so much.

Also dw you made a lot of sense, this was detailed and good to read.

And yeah!!! You can have the Dazai anon tag :D

[chronically-kayleigh]

it’s been a while, don’t know if i’m messaging into the abyss or not… i haven’t posted since 2022 lol…

a few updates:

-my cardiologist is retiring :(

-my endocrinologist MOVED?!??!!!

-i’ve had two hospital stays so far this year, equating to abt 10 days total… oh also had my first ambulance ride (i slept through the whole thing)

-i have a diagnosis of hypermobile ehlers-danlos syndrome, which we think my mom has as well

-i’m still doing theatre and i want to go into it professionally. i’ll be a junior this coming year and i want to get a BFA in musical theatre

-i did a show in a major city for the first time this past summer. i was in a month-long intensive in DC and we put on a full show and performed in a real venue

-i’m a textbook case of small fiber neuropathy, they did the skin biopsy just to tell me that it was inconclusive because there wasn’t enough to compare it to in my age group

-i’m 16 now, i have my permit (ive had it since november)… and i have less than 4 hours total logged… i have driving anxiety

-i had a callback saturday and am waiting on an update from that

-i’ve found a good therapist (she brings her dog sometimes too)

and that’s about all i can think of at the moment, but i’m hoping to start this back up.

[fishedeyelenz]

Fishy!! Fish fish! It’s me! The, the long anon…? I mean yeah that works lol. Oooough fishy, OOOOUUUGGH…..I just went through my fourth surgery on my bloody knee and it’s still not fixed and correct and it hurts and oooooough….im about to RIP my leg off and THROW IT!! Or bite it off. Or…man I don’t know, shuck my kneecap like an oyster or SOMETHING.

So! I obviously cannot help but wonder….how would our dearest little twerp Billy handle an s/o with physical health problems? I have MANY issues, oh yes many, I’m very gifted in fact! Very talented. (But for real I’m actually okay) I’m sorry, I know this is like, super specific but…well, I have many physical limitations, I have POTS, neuropathy, complex regional pain syndrome, EDS, my stomach organ doesn’t work properly and I throw up my food when I eat unless I lay down and try to sleep, or am very still while laying down, just, lots of things, I’ve had to be in a wheelchair for long periods of time many times, saying all of this to give you an idea how I’m rather…a weak individual overall, but I love to play and roughhouse I just gotta, be careful and I can’t do a lot at a time lol. Which is hard for me sometimes cause I’m EXTREMELY strong willed when it comes to just, grinning and bearing it, an basically am willing to kill myself from pushing myself too much cause I wanna bloody do what I want!

Okay so, how would Billy be with someone like that? Someone like me? Someone who has (lots of) leg troubles or who has heart problems or maybe you can’t be too too rough with cause of chronic pain? Would HE be the one too scared to mess with me? For fear of hurting me? Would he understand? I have my own ideas and hopes, but I freaking love the way you write him, so I gotta ask!

I wonder if it would make him almost…more willing to show himself sooner…cause I wonder if like…should Billy have an object of affection that he pines for and stalks from afar in his little attic nest, but his object of affection if one who kinda…has to limp and hobble or roll around in a chair and is slow and kind of sickly at times, I can’t help but wonder if he’d almost work himself up wanting to help, in his mind, in his own billy way? Like in his mind he kind of mother hens from afar, with the way he thinks, and the fact that the s/o is, in his mind, weaker than him, for once he could take care of them, HE is the healthy one for once! HE is the strong one this time! HE’S the normal one, and it’s something he never even knew could happen in anyway! Like, I bet it would make him puff up his chest with pride by like, sneaking an extra blanket on them or something small, cause to him it’s it’s HUGE, HUGE that he of all people could actually offer something to someone! Something we all know he doesn’t think is possible!

Ooough I’m sorry,y mind is CURSED with far too many ideas and scenarios that are too gentle and sweet!! I think of all kinds of evil disgusting things…y’all would be horrified. *mushy loving sentimental things*

AND OH TO BE A KITTY WITH HIM. He can bite me with love all he wants, cause I DO THAT! I’m constantly biting my parents and siblings and nieces and nephews! It really is a love language I’m telling you. *naws on him like a chew toy*

ALSO I CANT WHISTLE!! I want to so badly!! He could teach me!! I bet he’d love trying to teach someone something, and we could laugh at how bad I am at it! But I’ve been practicing, I can….almost….ALMOST make a whistle sound…just…not…YET

Hello!! Finally tumbrl let me answer this ask </3 sorry about the delay. I hope you are doing well, and you're recovery is going good!! I hope your knee is managing to heal :( As for Billy... yeah I do think he would show himself sooner to you!! Especially if he develops an obsession on you, cause alas, relationships with him would start off as obsessions </3 But yeah, he would take notice of how you appear to be sick more often than not, and at first it let's him put his guard down around you for a bit. If you're weak, it means you can't hurt him, right? But as time moves on and he develops a genuine fondness for you (a thing he thought he wasn't capable of) he would start trying to take care of you from afar. Leaving your meds close by so you aways have them at hand, adjusting the temperature of your room while you sleep, small stuff like that. I actually think that he wouldn't even reveal himself to you willingly, rather you catch him one day acccidentaly while he's trying to help you from the shadows. A terrifying moment for you both, but you'll laugh about it later.

And yes, he would feel personally responsible for you, and would look out to aways make you feel good or better. Maybe it would actually push him to seek help, go to a therapist maybe, so he could take even better care of you. Cause I can see him having a rough start in your relationship, with him being unstable making him isolate himself from you. One of the main things he fears is of course hurting you, from being too rough with you. I guess you could help help each other with that, you helping him take care of his mental health, him taking care of your physical health.

AND TO BE A KITTY WITH HIM!! It might take time for you to roughhouse together, since his fear of being too rough with you, but when he learns ro better control himself and trust himself, he might just bite back.

And keep on trying whistling!! It took me two years to learn, but in the end it all payed off!! Billy would definitely try to help too hehehe!!

Anyways!! Thanks for the ask long anon!! Took me a while to reply, but I finally got it out!! Hehhehe

[eclipsecrowned]

Headcaneons for Hel.

It’s not a constant in her day to day life, but as neuropathy and the ensuing muscle weakness plays havoc on her mobility, she’s been known to use her cane on bad days. Some days she is more ambulatory than others, and some days she’s in a bad enough way she doesn’t even try to leave her room.

As her left side is the one afflicted, she handles her cane using her right hand. This incidentally frees up her dominant hand on days when she needs some help.

I have had suggestions ranging from it being a sword cane to her simply being Unnamed Barrel Bastard’s true mother in spirit by having it be weighted. Other possibilities include the potential for Hel using it to store small objects or vials via a hollow segment near to the top of the cane. All I know for sure is Hel being Hel, there’s a secondary purpose to the thing.

It hasn’t been a lifelong aspect of her condition, but became necessary in her early adulthood. An inauspicious climate and payback for years of overexertion as a child hastened a lot of degeneration and other issues regarding her nerves.

She’s gone through a number of them in her lifetime, from ancient walking sticks to the modern age. It’s her most recent one that’s most impressive so far. The base is made of wood from one of Yggdrasil’s roots, which has been scorched a fine black by no less than Nidhoggr. The cane as a whole is shot through with silver for both durability and artistic choices, the handle flanked by tiny moonflowers of the same metal on either end while the rest of the handle is carved to resemble their stems intertwining. Contrary to the image I chose, Hel’s cane has a Fritz handle rather than the gentle u shape of the Tourist handle. It remains in a near perpetual state of winterization to account for the hostile environment of Helheim.

Yes it has an ice tip. Yes I’m making it more substantial than in mere mortal canes, because Hel deserves a formidable ice tip of silver that can be used as a viable threat, if only for a minor pricking.

It’s enhanced by runes, like everything Hel has ever been able to customize in her life. I’m still debating if they are carved into the wood itself or shaped in silver along the surface, but it’s definitely modified via what few magics she possesses.

Yes, she will still have the cane regardless of verse. The only thing that will change is the whys of her using it depending – In most verses it’s due to her chronic condition, where in a verse like TMA or XV where she’s less affected by a rot-equivalent, she is instead dealing with the aftermath of a past injury. We don’t do ‘oh but she’s totally able bodied in this verse!’ around here. We just have to come up with different ideas for the inclusion of this aspect.

[billysjoel]

While I don’t agree with how your mom is treating you, you’re here complaining but didn’t do anything to try to help yourself? Hot bath or shower and pain medication can help a lot.

I've really struggled with whether or not to even answer/publish this ask because I don't owe some piece of shit hiding behind sunglasses a damn thing. I typically block and delete anon hate because, as a nearly thirty year old woman, I just don't care anymore. I used to fire back at anons like this constantly and allow the cycle of stupidity to continue.

On the other hand, this is my blog and if I want to fucking complain about my chronic pain/illnesses/back issues, I have every right to. I also have the right to tell you to go to hell. If popping a fucking Tylenol helped the pain I experience, don't you think I would have done so? Plus, your tone deaf unsolicited advice doesn't know that for my entire life, when I was experiencing pain, my mom's answer was always "TAKE SOME MEDICINE." Not a single moment of empathy or compassion. Just shut up and take a pill. And this was long before I ever even knew the host of illnesses I actually had.

As for your magic healing hot bath/shower: we don't have a tub and do you have any fucking idea how much energy a shower takes when you're chronically ill and have been at like an 8 on the pain scale all day? I'm not proud to admit this, but I haven't showered since my back went out and that's been like probably 5 days? I hate even typing that. It makes me feel disgusted with myself. But it's also REALITY. I've barely been eating because preparing a meal takes spoons that I don't fucking have right now. Just standing takes my breath away and my legs shake almost violently. And yes, we have a shower chair (because my dad has MS), so while that helps, the entire act of getting undressed, turning the shower on, either just sitting under the stream of water or having to hold the showerhead handle the whole time, then getting out, drying off, and getting dressed again takes everything out of me and then some. And that's on a good day. Now factor in back pain, severe brain fog, hands that constantly shake, painful neuropathy in my feet, and the fact that I've barely eaten and I just don't have the fucking energy.

Here's what I hope you take away from me actually wasting my fucking time replying to your bullshit message: nobody -- chronically ill or not -- who's venting on their own blog and not affecting you in the least wants your shitty, unsolicited advice. Anything you think you're doing by "helping" is nothing but shit I've heard my entire life, well-meaning or not. And since I'm already here, the next time you want to pull something like this, maybe try coming off less condescending, you fucking asshole.

[mycharcot]

My Charcot Foot Journey: Learning to Walk a Different Path

I never thought I’d be writing about my feet. Feet are just there, right? You don’t really think about them until something goes wrong. But when I was diagnosed with Charcot Foot, everything changed. Suddenly, walking—something I had taken for granted—became a daily challenge.

For those who don’t know, Charcot Foot is a rare and serious condition that affects people with neuropathy (nerve damage). In simple terms, it causes the bones in the foot to weaken, break, and sometimes shift out of place—without the person even realizing it. Sounds terrifying, right? That’s because it is.

The Diagnosis: A Hard Pill to Swallow

When I first went to my GP, I expected a simple answer—maybe a sprain, maybe just rest and ice. But instead of getting the right diagnosis, I was misdiagnosed. I was told it was just swelling, something minor that would go away with time. Because of that, I missed out on crucial early appointments with a specialist—appointments that could have made a huge difference.

It wasn’t until I finally saw a specialist that I got the real answer: Charcot Foot. I had never even heard of it before that day. But as I sat there, listening to the doctor explain what was happening to my bones, it hit me: My foot was literally breaking without me feeling it.

Since then, doctors have run multiple tests, including one for Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease (CMT)—a genetic condition that can cause nerve damage and, in some cases, lead to Charcot Foot. But the results came back negative. I don’t have CMT, and frustratingly, they still don’t know why this happened to me. No underlying cause, no clear explanation—just a condition that changed my life without warning.

Processing the Reality

I’d be lying if I said I handled it well. The idea of mobility loss? Scary. The thought of needing special footwear, casts, or even surgery? Overwhelming. And don’t even get me started on the mental toll—because suddenly, the smallest things, like standing too long or walking too far, became a risk.

I went through all the emotions—denial, frustration, sadness—before I finally reached acceptance. But here’s the thing: acceptance doesn’t mean giving up. It means figuring out how to move forward.

Adapting to a New Normal

Every day is a learning curve. I’ve had to change the way I move, the way I rest, even the way I shop for shoes (goodbye, cute but unsupportive footwear 😭). Some days, I feel great; other days, I feel like my body is betraying me. But what I’ve realized is that my journey isn’t just about Charcot Foot—it’s about resilience.

I’ve learned to listen to my body instead of pushing through pain.

I’ve embraced mobility aids without shame—because they help me live my life.

I’ve become an expert in footwear that doesn’t suck (trust me, it exists!).

Most importantly, I’ve learned that my worth isn’t measured by how far or fast I can walk.

Why I’m Sharing This

If you’re dealing with Charcot Foot, neuropathy, or any condition that affects your mobility, I want you to know: You’re not alone. It’s okay to grieve the changes, but don’t let them define you. There’s strength in adaptation, in finding new ways to do things, and in embracing the journey—even when it looks different from what you expected.

I don’t have all the answers, but I do know this: I’m still here. I’m still moving forward. And that’s enough.

If you’ve gone through something similar, I’d love to hear your story. Let’s create a space where we can share, support, and remind each other that even when the road is rough, we keep walking—one step at a time.

💙 Jade

[matchstikc]

Life and Death and Death and Life and

My Grandma died yesterday. It feels removed to say that I’m not sad, but truth be told, I’m not. She was 90 years old and she lived a full, long life. 

Well, I’m not sad to have lost her. For the past year of her life she was begging to “Go home to the Lord” (I think that’s what Christians say when they’re suicidal but can’t say so). She had diabetic neuropathy and lost her leg a few years ago. She was addicted to morphine for the greater part of her latter years, and her body showed it - her teeth were crumbling and the sparkle had left her eyes. She lost the plumpness in her face and the rosiness in her cheeks.

I am sad in a different, new way. I keep thinking of how she died alone in a nursing home. She had four kids, 11 grandkids, a large “church family” and countless friends she made volunteering in the community. But still, she died alone in an unfamiliar room, probably confused and scared. Maybe she died peacefully in her sleep. I don’t know.

What I do know is that at this point in my life, I have 3 kids of my own. My aunt kept telling me I should go visit her. I knew in my heart I probably should go and spend time with her, but it seemed like there was always a reason or excuse to justify why we couldn’t. Looking back in this moment, I can’t remember a single one of the reasons. 

I keep thinking about my 3 kids, and how I have a life surrounded by friends, coworkers and family that love me. But so did she, and I was one of them. I always had an explanation of why what I was doing was more important. 

Everyone lives with regrets – things you could have and should have done better or differently. I think this is just a part of living and getting older, and understanding what it means to live. But I can’t shake the feeling that no matter how hard I try, the same thing is going to happen to me. I guess it is foolish to live your life in fear of how it might end, after all it is one of the only certainties we have.

If I could do it differently, would I? Or would I fall into the same complacency, choosing my own comfortability over making an effort? 

I never thought about these things until death touched my life for the first time when I was 19. My friend Nick got into a motorcycle accident. I didn’t believe it when I first got the call, and sometimes in a way I still don’t. That was almost 10 years ago now. That experience changed the way I viewed life and death forever (as I think most experiences like that do for people). It’s hard to rationalize someone being gone in an instant. 

In the short term, I missed my friend. In the long term, I was reminded to always tell the people you love what they mean to you while you can. After Nick died, every couple of months I would go sit on his grave. Crack a beer, play songs on my phone that he liked. Of course I knew that he was gone, nobody could hear me. I think it was more for myself than anything, it made me feel like I could make up for my shortcomings I had as his friend when he was alive. I wasn’t there for him as much as I could have been.

We were young, and made dumb young mistakes. There was always some teenage drama going on in our friend group. When Nick died, my best friend had just broken up with him. The last time I hung out with him, we had lunch together and he seemed so optimistic and ready for the next chapter of life. 

Everyone goes over what ifs and what could have been done slightly different to change the outcome when someone dies. I think it’s natural, and your brain trying to explain and understand how someone can be there one minute and just gone the next. In Nick’s case, I always wondered if I had just been a better friend, and called more often, would he have gotten on his bike that night? He ran it off the road driving recklessly. Nobody knows if it was on purpose. I don’t think it was, he wasn’t suicidal. But is not caring if you live or die in a moment the same as being suicidal? 

All of us used to ride in his car to a steep hill on the outskirts of town, play our music as loud as it would go and drive 80 miles per hour to the top of the hill and plummet down.  Everyone in the car would scream at the top of their lungs, and Nick would be howling with laughter. When you’re young you think you’re untouchable, it’s a cliche but it’s a stark truth that you can uniquely relate to when someone in your life goes too soon. I don’t think he ever thought it would end that way. 

Everyone loses people in their life, of course I know I’m not unique to have lost, it is a fact of life. But it always has a way of making me question my own fragile mortality, and the impact I have on those around me. That might be a selfish mind frame, but like I said, my Grandma had so many people that loved her and still died alone. Now having a family of my own, I wonder if I make it to that age, will they take the time out of their own lives to be with me? Do I even deserve it? Or will they be at the same stage I am in life, living with the regret of not making more effort for the people around them?

As humans we must at some point face our mortality and acknowledge the fragility of this sweet and precious life. The fact that it is short is a testament to its rarity, how amazing is it that we get to exist in this moment in time? 

I’m trying to have the introspect to understand the value in these experiences. I think at the end of the day, the point of this short life is just to live it, right? Right..? I’m living it and trying so immensely to make sense of it all. 

Maybe the meaning of it all is just to love and be loved. To show love as deeply as you feel it. And maybe, that’s why when someone dies, I feel like a failure. Like I never got the chance to show them how much I loved them or apologize for the mistakes I made, and now I never can. 

Here’s what I do know – I love those around me tremendously, and I hope they love me too. And I aim to show them as often as I can and while I can, what they mean to me. That’s the meaning of my life, at least.

[bisexual-yuri]

Talent and Blessings Don’t Matter at ECMC (Lessons from the psych ward)

There is only so much process you can reasonably expect someone to do 

I feel like I’ve hit my limit

Shit’s got me feeling bored and stupid like the village idiot 

Need my creativity need a job 

I’m all full of all sort of needs to sort out this agony of idleness

They say it’s a kindness to myself to take so much time to myself but what do I do all by myself except circle a drain I don’t want to drain out of?

Can I take a plane or a train off this cliff of boredom without alarming me and everyone that loves me?

Still processing neuropathy and dark shit discussed in therapy 

Like the fact that the nurses sedated me against my will needlessly because they were scared of me 

Don’t care that they’re the real scary she’s, the real scary ones 

The ones keeping me locked away from the sun and the fan

It felt like nobody cared that the son of God sees all including patient abuse, including how if you scary enough they’ll take your fuckin’ shoes 

They don’t got a clue the trauma they causer with the drama and gel/powder painted claws, damaging psych mentality, my prayer is done so more it be

Amanda and JD, were they manic or just anxious?

Why did Corey have to take all this?

Why won’t Fawzi just get all the words out?

Why wouldn’t they just let Jaxem the fuck out?

People no danger to themselves or me

Still in lockup, docs give no fucks you see 

False profits and false prophets get out easy

Druggin’ the fun out of Aggie

You ain’t fun no more, that’s how you get free

Behavior in the health, good behavior in hell

And it doesn’t even come with Mercy

Quitting’ Cymbalta cold turkey

Can’t see color, can’t smell nothin’, feelin’ wonky

Temperature a mess, cold water on hot hands

No one cares to listen, no one really understands that big emotions are not themselves a disease

Drug’ll fuck your mind up till you can’t even see

I’m Eliza spitting’ rhymes now, not lies now, no I’m no fucking donkey

It’s a song but I wrote it in the wrong key

Singin’ red teeth, spitting truth through the nose bleed 

Now I got time to kill but no blood to spill

You can’t take anything further away from me

Robbed of all my autonomy, my work and my loves all a trifecta of purgatory

Abuse and sex crimes by blonde bitches who look at me and see witches

Plural

I’m just one person, big feelings on a fleshly mural 

Trying to make sense of the senseless violence done to me 

Trying to make sense of the senseless violence done period 

I’m deadly serious 

This shit needs to get a hard look at it 

A world full of angels seeking their halos and wings, instead get shot down with syringes and bans that take wedding rings 

No wedding ring for me, no wedding ring for Sarah not even a tattoo

In the hospital they treat you like a damn fool and then wonder why you behave any differently 

Sorry ECMC but the truth you saw in there ain’t the real me, it’s the me you brought out of me

It’s the eagle you carved out of a hummingbird that was trying to rest on a dead tree

I’m not a dead me, I’m just me, so why did you try killing me to make me whole again?

I’ll tell you doc, you have cost me all sorts of friends by locking me up in this shit 

Made some new ones too, but the anger and the loss are harder pills to swallow than anything you gave me in follow up

Divorce the PTSD, divorce from real me, you people never trusted me to take care of me

It’s scary

I know in a moment I had lost my mind, but damn is that license to be so fucking unkind? 

How am I supposed to find peace in the belly of the beast? 

How is anyone supposed to heal when you hit them hard with rules about what is and isn’t real?

Makes you wonder who’s the delusional one, the patients or the system

All I know is the needle toothed fucker takes everyone as a victim and doesn’t care if we scream or we cry

More fuel for the fire, more reasons to make people want to die to escape this

I know Al, you’re still here and you can’t take this 

Neither can I, knowing people suffer every day in this hellfire of some hospital’s fucked up design 

But what can I do, I’m just one person and I don’t even have a second shoe to drop because of what the hospital took from me 

I have a lot of friends, lot of family 

Most people ain’t so lucky

Screaming on the wind “why did you do this to me and him and her and them and everybody?”

I wish I knew an answer, I wish I had a better answer than just to scream

Maybe someday when I am healed I will have energy to dream of a better future for this

But for now, all I can do is sleep

[starrystar]

Described!

58

Minty aqua alcohol ink background:

It turned out my math was wrong. I was never quite clear on volume and cubes vs. squares, which one led to me accidentally getting a mile of mulch delivered that was larger than my car. 

Bob was actually a seventh the lump he used to be.

Dr: That’s very good!

SB: Woohoo!

We booked my surgery for right before New Years. I just had to get through twelve more weeks of chemo.

59

Orange background with kind of a burnt gray happening at the bottom. 

The nurses were right. Taxol was easier. It was also much more annoying.

RN: You’ll want to ice your hands and feet for an hour during treatment to prevent neuropathy. 

SB: Oh. Joy. 

RN: It’s much better than it was in the old days. Everybody got neuropathy back then. 

SB: …yay?

60

Bright spring green watery background. 

I ordered special socks and gloves off Amazon that went in the freezer. 

I had been playing video games on my switch during chemo. Now I had enormous ice mittens strapped to my hands and could just about grip a stylus well enough to turn pages in an eBook. I am an avid reader, but it is surprisingly difficult to find a really gripping book every week for three months. 

SB: I just want a story that’s more interesting than being poisoned right this minute. Is that so much to ask? 

It didn’t help that I started getting excruciating abdominal cramps during the taxol. 

Note: Apparently this is a rare but known side-effect. Figures. Weirdly, still not as annoying as the ice mittens.

61

Lavender swirly background. 

In addition to cramps and ice socks, weekly chemo meant weekly lab work and weekly doctor appointments. DR: I feel like I just saw you. 

SB: Same here. 

My husband couldn’t get a day off every week, so I had to start getting rides from friends. I really really hated that. I know they didn’t mind and I know they were happy to help and I know they knew I was grateful, but I felt needy and helpless and I hated it. 

62

Bright aqua background.

Also all my nose hair fell out. For the record, no one appreciate the amount of work nose hair does. Gnats flew up my nose on three separate occasions. SB: I am in hell.

I also had a permanent low-level nasal drip.

SB: All these years and I had no idea how much wicking action those little hairs were doing. 

Note: Nose hair is the unsung hero of the human body.

63

This background looks a bit like a light orange rocky shore with a dark orange sea washing up on it, in abstract. 

My eyebrows finally gave up the ghost. They lasted four months. It was a good run.

SB: See you next year, guys. 

The taxol made my heart rate spike if I tried to do anything excessively athletic, such as standing up or walking across a room. People who walk regularly have better outcomes. I think that may be because if you can walk, you’re doing better anyway, but I did a slow half-kilometer circuit of my local park four days a week just in case. I played Pokémon Go a lot. 

SB: To think that I once considered myself woefully out of shape…

Note: Heart rate increase is ALSO a known side-effect.

64

Purple swirly background.

After every infusion, they cleaned my port with something that filled my nose with the smell of industrial cleaner. One day I encountered the smell in the wild.

SB: This is deeply unsettling and I don’t know why? I get that smells are really primal, but I’m not this upset during chemo!

A friend finally explained it to me….

Friend: It has nothing to do with being upset. Your body knows that smell comes with horrible physical disruption. On a very primitive level, your cells are screaming “That was poison! Don’t eat it again!”

Note: Apparently the mechanism is that the cleaner goes into your blood, blood goes immediately to your lungs, the cleaner aerosolizes there and floods your nasal passages. For me, it was like Dire Windex.

65

Pale yellow background with small lime green spatter. 

Unfortunately, knowing why didn’t make it stop. I could actually feel the trigger sinking into my brain. 

SB: But if I know why it’s happening, I should be able to prevent it from getting lodged in there, dammit!

It turns out that understanding the mechanism of trauma doesn’t actually fix it. 

SB: Reality is not well-organized. 

66

Gray background with unusual swirls of light and dark gray, but shot through with watery red. The effect is like drips of blood in a tray of ice chunks. 

Despite the ice, I started to get neuropathy anyway. 

It was worst in my right food, which weirded me out. SB: Why isn’t it symmetrical? 

RN: It usually isn’t. 

SB: It feels like it should be. 

Eventually it felt like permanent pins-and-needles in both feet. 

SB: Oh, I am really not a fan of this.

But at least it wasn’t my hands. 

67

Shades of brown show through with lines of gold, like a dark rocky cliff face. 

Doctor pinkeye was paranoid about typing becoming painful, so we lowered the dose. 

DR: I used to work in a town with a lot of musicians. Hand neuropathy was their greeted nightmare. As God is my witness, you will be able to keep writing books. 

SB: Oh good. I’m not actually cut out for anything else. 

A friend sent me socks that said “Fuck Cancer” on the soles. I wore them proudly to chemo. A month later I realized that I put them on the wrong feet every time and had been proclaiming myself a “cancer fuck.” 

(Mind you, the nurses probably thought it was funny.)

Tune in next time, when we finish chemo at long last!

The Saga of Bob! Part 7, I think!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

When last we checked in, Tumor-Bob had shrunk considerably!

Apparently this is a rare but known side-effect. Figures. Weirdly, still not as annoying as the ice mittens.

Nose hair is the unsung hero of the human body.

Heart rate increase is ALSO a known side-effect.

Apparently the mechanism is that the cleaner goes into your blood, blood goes immediately to your lungs, the cleaner aerosolizes there and floods your nasal passages. For me, it was like Dire Windex.

(Mind you, the nurses probably thought it was funny.)

Tune in next time, when we finish chemo at long last!

[sugar-freezone]

How to lower Blood Sugar Levels naturally

you’ll learn these tips to lower blood sugar levels naturally to reverse prediabetes. we will see how your A1c is related to your blood sugars and why you can’t just fast the day before you get your A1c checked. Be sure to completely read this article to learn about my best free resources to lower your insulin resistance and learn which foods are best to eat to lower your blood sugar.many people with type 2 diabetes who had multiple amputations and debilitating neuropathy that greatly increased their fall risk, which often led to fractures and more time in the hospital and how the regular medication adjustments could throw their blood sugar and energy levels way out of whack. Not to mention the nasty GI side effects of medications like metformin. It’s best to just nip high blood sugars in the bud early on to prevent diabetes in the first place.

Lily’s Journey to Balanced Blood Sugar

Understanding Blood Sugar Levels:

The first step to lower Blood Sugar Levels naturally and revert to prediabetes is knowing your numbers. If you’ve never checked your fasting blood sugars before, you’ll want to do a water fast, meaning you don’t eat anything and only drink water for 8-12 hours prior to when you’re getting your blood checked. Now your hemoglobin A1c is different from fasting blood sugars. The A1C test measures what percentage of your hemoglobin — a protein in red blood cells that carries oxygen — is coated with sugar. This is a common test used to diagnose diabetes and determine how well someone is managing their diabetes. The higher your A1C level, the worse your blood sugar control and the higher your risk of diabetes complications.what are normal, prediabetic, and diabetic ranges for fasting blood sugars and hemoglobin A1c. Normal fasting blood sugars are between 70-100, although closer to 70 is better. Prediabetes is 100 to 125. Type 2 diabetes is 2 separate readings of 126 or higher. A healthy A1c is less than 5.7, prediabetes is 5.7 to 6.4, and diabetes is 6.5% and higher.So why do we care so much about high fasting blood sugars and a high A1c? Both of these are important indicators of an underlying condition called insulin resistance. Insulin is a hormone made by your pancreas. Its job is to move sugar, or blood glucose, from your bloodstream into your cells. But if you have high blood glucose too often for too long, your insulin can have a hard time keeping up, so more and more insulin is needed. Eventually you develop a resistance to this higher level of insulin and it’s a vicious cycle. Insulin resistance is a common thread to all sorts of health ailments like obesity, heart disease, diabetes, and dementia. If you want to lower insulin, lower your blood sugars. One study suggested that insulin is reduced when blood sugars drop below about 83. So while up to 99 is considered “normal” it’s certainly not optimal.

Educate Yourself on Macronutrients:

The next thing I want you to do is educate yourself about the different types of macronutrients, and how these affect your blood sugar levels. I want you to stop counting points or calories, and start counting macros.There are three main categories of macronutrients: carbohydrates, protein, and fat. In the carbohydrates category, we have fiber, starch, and sugar. Refined starches and sugars are those that have been processed to strip away all the protein and fat so all that remains are just carbs. Refined and processed starches and sugars will have the biggest blood sugar, and thus insulin spike so you’ll want to significantly reduce these in your diet. Fiber actually has the reverse effect and helps slow digestion and sugar spikes. So whole-food sources of carbohydrates that contain a lot of fiber are excellent for your health. I have pointed about things like non-starchy vegetables, avocados, olives, blackberries, and raspberries, among other foods. Protein won’t significantly affect blood sugar levels but it will raise blood insulin a little, and dietary fat causes the lowest blood sugar and insulin response.

Destress:

You may be surprised to learn that losing weight and preventing disease is not ALL about food. It is all about hormones, specifically, insulin. And insulin is affected by cortisol, your stress hormone. You see, when we are stressed, especially chronic stress, your cortisol levels are elevated. As a reminder, sleep deprivation is a form of stress on your body. Numerous studies have shown a link between sleep deprivation and diabetes. One study cited men who reported difficulty maintaining sleep were at almost 5 times the risk of developing diabetes and those who reported sleeping less than 5 hours had almost 3 times the risk of developing diabetes. When cortisol is up, this causes elevated blood sugar levels because our bodies are designed to fight or flee from stress. In order to do that, our muscles need energy, so blood sugar is released in anticipation of needing energy to fight or flee. But if our stress is mental or emotional and we don’t need to use our muscles, that blood sugar isn’t used up, so extra insulin is needed to push it into the cells. That’s how blood sugar gets into your cells, it’s either pushed in by insulin, or pulled in by muscle demand.

Lily’s Journey to Balanced Blood Sugar

Exercise:

there are two primary ways glucose can get out of your bloodstream…insulin pushes or muscles pull. Exercise, or just general movement, can help you lower your blood sugars. The best kind of exercise is one you will actually for strength training. Muscle mass is critical to maintain as you age to keep your metabolism up, and just be able to function well and stay independent.You can’t out exercise a bad diet, but you can’t out-diet no training. you have to do strength training at least twice a week for all major muscle groups at a moderate to high intensity, meaning you’re tired and can’t do one more good rep after about 10-15 repetitions.

Intermittent Fasting:

When you don’t put food into your body, your body is forced to use fuel already available, it starts with glucose already circulating in your blood from your last meal, then moves into your short-term glucose stores in the form of glycogen, and finally will tap into your body fat. weight loss is about hormones, not calories. There are numerous hormonal benefits of intermittent fasting that you don’t get with chronic calorie restriction. Here’s the quote: “To prevent the body from adapting to the new weight-loss strategy and maintain weight loss requires an intermittent strategy, not a constant one. This is a crucial distinction. Restricting some foods all the time differs from restricting all foods some of the time. This is the difference between failure and success.”

Lily’s Journey to Balanced Blood Sugar

[romantic-reveries]

I feel like I’m losing my mind, you know?

Some days are better than others, but something just feels wrong. The last six months have felt wrong. It started at the end of last year, like a thread unraveling.

My manager at my old job yelled at me back in September, and it struck me in such a way that I ended up crying in the bathroom for nearly an hour after. Truly, I don’t know if anyone has been that cruel to me to my face before.

Just a couple days later, my grandma told me the place she works was hiring - better pay, Monday through Friday instead of having to work Saturdays like I was, and getting to work with my grandma? Ideal. It felt meant to be, so I took it. And I love the job itself, and I love the work environment of the office, and I love my coworkers. The boss is… a little unstable, but he’s not around much, so it’s bearable. The job insecurity is unsettling - it’s an open secret that he’s struggling to meet payroll because of how irresponsible he is with money. His turnover for bookkeepers is crazy high. But all-in-all, it’s not awful.

That said, there’s been a marked turn in both my grandma and I’s demeanor in the last six months, and I don’t know what else to attribute it to if we’re both experiencing it. Stress? Or some kind of toxin exposure? Mold? I don’t fucking know. It makes no sense.

I’ve been missing months of my period since September. I might be in pre-menopause at 30? And I’ve been having worse sinus and reflux issues than ever. I’ve been emotionally all over the place, which I considered could be hormones. My grandma has been more cranky and irritable than I can remember her ever being, and her blood pressure has been high, and her neuropathy is bothering her more, and now she’s got shingles on top of it all. I don’t even remember either of us feeling this bad when she had cancer in my early twenties. And obviously she was younger, so I could almost rationalize her responding to things differently after a few years, but what about me?

I just genuinely feel like I’m drowning lately.

And it isn’t even just us - my boyfriend has been sick a ton lately. He mentioned the other day that he normally gets sick during the summer (he used to be prone to pneumonia), but last summer, I don’t remember him really being sick at all. We were constantly going and adventuring. We have the same amount of time now as we did then - we still only see each other every other weekend. But it felt like a lot a year ago. Now it feels like barely anything.

Like, is it just working full-time? Did it just take me a certain amount of time to feel the effects? I just don’t understand and it makes me want to cry. I don’t know what’s going on with anything and it feels wrong.

And I keep trying to do all the right things, right? I’m trying to eat well and exercise regularly - something I’ve never stuck to for this long before - and say the positive affirmations and try not to drown in my melancholy because it isn’t productive, but I feel so stretched thin, I don’t know how there are people thriving. I’m functioning, but I feel like a robot. I do what I must and then I crash. So why isn’t it working? Why am I doing all the things they say you should to feel better and it isn’t working?