#doc said I only had a little bronchitis does that mean I can have a little weed 🥺🥺

[goonssquadd]

Want weed but literally getting over lung sickness. Do I chance it?

[frolwriting]

A Whole New World: Bloody Mary Part 1

Hey guys!  I’m sorry I haven’t posted this week.  I came down with Bronchitis, and it was also my birthday week.  I am SO close to 100 followers.  I seriously only need 1 more follower, and then we’ll have a giveaway for the postcard.  Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

Fandom: Supernatural

Episode: Bloody Mary

Warnings: Blood and death

_______________________________________________________________________

We were in the Impala headed off to a weird case. I knew what this case was going to be. I was really terrified for this case. This episode always scared me. I had fallen asleep in the Impala because again I wasn't sleeping all that well again. I woke up Dean pulling into a building's parking lot. "Where are we?" I asked sitting up. Just then Sam jarred awake as well. Me and Dean looked at him concerned. He looked terrified for a second.

"I take it I was having a nightmare." He said.

"Yeah, another one." Dean said.

"Hey, at least I got some sleep. Kate did you get some sleep." I gave him a look, but I nodded when I saw Dean looking at me as well.

"You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this." He said. I didn't know if he was talking to Sam or me or both of us, but I nodded either way.

"Are we here?" Sam asked changing the subject.

"Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio." Dean said. Sam grabbed the newspaper that was on the dash and looked at the obituary section. There was one circled.

"So what do you think really happened to this guy?" I asked.

"That's what we're gonna find out." He paused a second. "Let's go." We get out of the Impala and walk up to the building. "We're headed to the morgue. We need to see the body for ourselves." We walked around for a bit till we finally found the morgue. We walked in to find two desks, but there was only one person there. I looked at the name on the desk to make it not look suspicious when we say we're looking for the other man.

"Hey." The man said.

"Hey." Dean said.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, we're the med students that set up an appointment." I said instantly.

"Sorry?" The man asked.

"Did Doctor Figlavitch not tell you?" I asked sweetly. "We called him. We're working on our project down at Ohio State. He was supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse."

"Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch."

"Oh well he said-" Dean started. "Oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?"

"Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want."

"An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then."

"Yeah." Sam said.

"Sir, these guys have put this off for way too long. I lost my dad and haven't been able to do this for a couple of weeks. I had hoped these two would at least do this part of the project, but obviously they didn't. Didn't you have some project partners that just drove you nuts like this?" I said getting some fake tears to come up.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear about your dad." He paused. "Yeah, I can show you the body." I smiled slightly.

"Thank you so much." The man got up and we headed into the part where all the bodies are. I didn't know if that sob story was going to work. The tech pulled the body out. Everything but the eyes looked normal. Eyes actually meaning no eyes.

"Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding." Sam said. The tech put the sheet back on the man's head.

"More than that. They practically liquefied."

"Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?" I suggested.

"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."

"What's the official cause of death?" I asked.

"Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up there, thats for sure."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen."

"But the eyes. What would cause something like that?" I asked.

"Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims."

"Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?"

"That's a first of me, but hey, I'm not the doctor."

"Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh…our project?" I asked.

"I'm not really supposed to show you that." Sam pulled out his wallet and gave the man some money. He showed us the report, and then we left.

"Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing." Sam said.

"How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?" Dean asked.

"Uh, almost never." Sam said.

"Exactly."

"All right, let's go talk to the daughter." Sam said.

"Hey good job with the sob story earlier." Dean said bumping me lightly.

"Bringing up memories of projects for anyone makes them feel bad for you."

"All right, let's go talk to the daughter." Sam said. We then headed to the house where the man died. I looked at my outfit and thankfully I was wearing black. The guys on the other hand were very much underdressed.

"Kate did you have a feeling we would be doing this?" Dean asked looking at me.

"Kind of." I said as we head towards the backyard. A man pointed towards us out as soon as we walk out. We walk up to who we saw was the daughters of the man.

"You must be Donna, right?" Dean asked as we got to her.

"Yeah." The older said.

"Hi, uh-we're really sorry." I said not really sure what to do because I don't know this girl too well.

"Thank you." She said.

"I'm Sam, this is Dean and Kate. We worked with your dad." Sam said. Donna looked at one of the girls and then back at us.

"You did?" She asked.

"Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke." Dean said.

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now." One of the other girls said.

"It's okay. I'm okay." Donna said.

"Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?" Dean asked.

"No." One of the younger girls turned around toward us.

"That's because it wasn't a stroke." She said.

"Lily, don't say that." Donna said.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I'm sorry, she's just upset."

"No, it happened because of me."

"Sweetie, it didn't."

"Lily." I said kneeling down to her. "Why would you say something like that?" I asked.

"Right before he died, I said it." She said getting more upset.

"You said what?" I asked.

"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror." She paused. "She took his eyes, that's what she does."

"That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault." Donna said.

"Hey, I used to do that all the time when I was little. Nothing ever happened. You saying Bloody Mary in the mirror three times did not kill your dad. Plus it was you who said it, not your dad, right?" I said.

"No, I don't think so." She said. I smiled and patted her shoulder.

"We need to get going. We just wanted to stop by and say our peace." The girls nodded. We left and decided to go check out the bathroom for ourselves.

"The Bloody Mary legend…Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?" Sam asked.

"Not that I know of." Dean said. Dean walked in while Sam and I kneeled down to check out the blood.

"I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it." Sam said.

"Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening."

"The place where the legend began?" Dean just shrugged and opened the cabinet.

"But according to the legend, the person who says B-" Sam stood and looked at the mirror and closes the door. "The person who says you know what gets it. But here-"

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah." Dean said.

"Right."

"Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out."

"It's worth checking in to." We walk out into the hallway to see one of the girls from outside in the hallway.

"What are you doing up here?" She asked.

"We-we, had to go to the bathroom." I said.

"Who are you?"

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad." Dean said.

"He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself."

"No, I know, I meant-"

"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming."

"All right, all right. We think something happened to Donna's dad." Sam said.

"Yeah, a stroke."

"That's not a sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else." Sam said.

"Like what?"

"Honestly? We don't know yet, but we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth."

"So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead." Dean said.

"Who are you, cops?"

"Something like that."

"I'll tell you what. Here." Sam said as he pulled out a notebook and pen and wrote down his number. "If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary…just give us a call." He handed her the paper and we left. "Let's head to the library to see what we can find." Me and Dean nodded. We got into the Impala and left. We went in, and I noticed it was pretty dark in there. They must have terrible lighting in this place.

"All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof-like a local woman who died nasty." Dean said.

"Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 version of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch. Another says she's a mutilated bride, and there's a lot more."

"All right so what are we supposed to be looking for?" Dean asked.

"Every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers-public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill."

"Well that sounds annoying." Dean said.

"No it won't be so bad, as long as we…" That's when we noticed the computers had out of order signs on them. Sam chuckled. "I take it back. This will be very annoying." I sighed. It was this case where they had to do things old school. We searched long for two hours, when I noticed that Sam had fallen asleep. I smiled. I wanted to do that, but Dean would get frustrated if I fell asleep as well. We grabbed tons of records and headed back to the motel. After a while, Sam seemed to start whimpering in his sleep. I went to wake him up when Dean put a hand on me. He shook his head and went back to researching. After a while, Sam jolted awake. "Why'd you let me fall asleep?"

"Cause I'm an awesome brother. So what did you dream about?"

"Lollipops and candy canes." Sam said sarcastically.

"Yeah, sure."

"Did you find anything?"

"Oh besides a whole new level of frustration. No. We've looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary."

"Maybe we just haven't found it yet." Sam said falling back on his bed.

"I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know…eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary." Dean said. Just then Sam's phone started ringing.

"Hello?" There was a long pause when he finally jumped up. "Come on something came up with Charlie. We need to go." We hurried out of the motel to go where Charlie is.

[newhologram]

I bond with a lot of customers, they just end up telling me their whole life story, and we always have something in common, no matter how different we are or what the age difference is. Mostly it has to do with living with invisible illnesses and chronic pain and how the world is very ignorant of our strength and resilience against a life of pain. We are so strong that we are like exploding stars on the inside when people KEEP CALLING US WEAK for needing what we need to function at our normal. It pisses us off.  Do you know how hard it is to live what even appears as a normal life when you’re in constant pain? We burn out from having to keep up with other people and function at their level whether mentally or physically, or, well. We really struggle and maybe die because from family, friends, and the medical system we have a HELL OF A TIME getting actual support.

I have people asking me if I’m going to become a doctor because I’m now so knowledgeable about these illnesses based on my experience + obsessively researching medical stuff to try to learn about how my multi-diagnosis body works and how to possible help heal some things

and ALMOST ALL MY FINDINGS

end up being huge obvious simple things like, “does this person have any kind of obstruction of blood or nerve flow?”

Spoiler: UH SHIT how do you say, “grew up with a progressively more and more compressed brainstem and a body covered in adhesions that restricted nerve and bloodflow even more???” which lead to even more damage in just like the perfect storm of bullshit weird illnesses that are so so so misunderstood because our doctors don’t think outside the box and it’s all just a competition/beauty pageant of wankers or just payin’ the bills and nothing matters, just strongarm your vulnerable scared patients into being your long-term cash cow!

The highschool blood drives, I either weighed too little during what I didn’t know were early colitis flares–or they’d stick the needle in and my blood would barely drip out. One nurse looked at me like “is she fucking alive?” and kinda joked about it. Every time I had bloodwork, same thing. My blood was just so slow. No doc clocked this.

Constantly being cold. My friends and family know that it could be a high 95 degree day and there I am covered up and maybe under a heating pad because I’m just frozen on the inside (not to mention the pain). 

Difficulty digesting food as a child. Almost all food just sits in stomach, ferments. Horrible bloating pains and yeah, GAS. Basically age 5 and up. No doc said, “this skinny little weird kid is fuming like a fucking factory, is she okay?!” They just said eh. Just don't drink milk anymore. Problem solved. 

Chronic bronchitis, walking pneumonia, missing school every single year because of it. Reproductive issues, very painful periods, vomiting. Always tired, lagging behind classmates, always zonking out in class or at daycare.

Clumsy and so uncoordinated it fucking hurt, kids are so mean… no adult thought, “um is her brain plugged in right?” But it wasn’t, and so now so many other parts of my body are in atrophy, with lesions and scars underneath, crystallized pain that you can feel and hear.

Like gravel and waterfall, I’ve been rebuilding, slowly, eroding them, the Medusa Marks of my soul manifested in physical form

and they still say it’s invisible??

IT CRUNCHES BITCH

WHY WOULD THIS BE NORMAL I AM TURNING INTO A HUNCHED STATUE because doctors are idiots who poked my swollen malshaped spine that distorted even my vision for several years and said, “yeah weird. oh u have fibromyalgia, narcolepsy, depression, anxiety, colitis, cyclic vomiting that lands you in the ER/urgent care multiple times a year? okay. just wondering, what do u want ME to do about it???” and said I was just the D word and loaded me up on a subscription where cancellation had a serious fee.

(withdrawals are experienced in another dimension)

Anyway, *snaps thumb* Hey, pay attention. If something is fucking weird, you look into it. We have this power and for that we are meant to thrive even if the literal government has its head up its ass. There is a way to be the best you and have the unconditional love and support for when you fall. Why aren’t they here for us, too? What did we do wrong–? We’re just us. We might be different in ways you can’t really “see” but we hurt a lot to be here, and we want the best for ourselves too, because we love ourselves so much and we have survived this long–long enough to make a difference to someone somewhere, anyone anywhere, who may need us.

Be here with us, please, we can make life better. We can learn too, and do what they couldn’t. The medical system shouldn’t only help the people who respond really well to prescription pills–That is a valid treatment but it shouldn’t leave those who don’t respond to it alone to fend for themselves just because it’s all most conventional doctors are willing to try–but we can investigate! We can research and learn so much and do more than our doctors would’ve ever thought to do with their limits, we can work together with them instead of just nodding and taking the bottles. For so long I tried to be a good girl, just listen to my doctors, just take my stimulants, doc said it would help, just take my antidepressants, doc said it would help, just take my sleeping pills, doc said it would help, just take my steroids, the doc said it would help. 

Guys, this is so TMI and I will regret later but I’m just so a n g r y about spending so many years suffering when there was really basic stuff the doctors could’ve done before resorting to pills. Basic as in: hey, is her brain to body connection healthy? 

NO?????

*!! And for clarification: I lived my whole childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood in progressively worsening pain, discomfort, weakness, dysfunction, and emotional instability leading to huge warning signs of something wrong that conventional doctors think does not exist even as a patient withers away into suffering and basically losing their shit during flare ups because that feel when physical pain is literally so unbearable you think eh, dying would be really cool with me right now! I’d miss my cats and make everyone sad, but hey, no more pain! 

**Ultra extra note though: so what was I born with and what was “induced” (??) by the subluxation/compromised flow, we do not know. I was first adjusted 6 months ago and recently again a few weeks ago and now I’m working on breaking down adhesions and strengthening/supporting my body during the recovery process (which could take like... 5+ years and will be a “rest of my life” thing, as recovery is for a lot of us). 

To put it simply, my body now has to MORPH INTO A MORE HEALTHY AND NORMAL FUNCTION.

Basically, when a spoonie is given the smart and effective care needed to heal, they can live more comfortably and have what they need for the flare ups that may still come. For some of us, pain and issues may still be pretty regular in our lives because—our brains and bodies are different, and that’s okay. It’s okay to be born different. Maybe we’re stunted physically and mentally and we struggle, but we can have tools for dealing with this and for being the best we can be, even if we are different. 

We don’t have to just resign ourselves to suffering like I did. For so long I said, “well, my illnesses are incurable. I know if I’m really smart I can at least treat them and manage them so that I can still follow my dreams. If I’m going to be in pain and throw up almost every day, I might as well be trying to do what I love.” 

But even then... my body broke down from it. And from this breakdown, I got even angrier. I thought I was doing everything right. So I got even more serious about my medical research which were already a daily thing. I found out about things the doctors never mentioned. I found out about things that made sense, that seemed so obvious. I found things that made a difference. 

Keep digging, find those answers, get smart, REST A LOT! Don’t skip naps if you are able to. Always better to take the nap. ALWAYS TAKE THE NAP, MAX.

SPOONIES STRONG!!