#home care in Baltimore and Washington

[professionalhealthcarephri]

Facts About Occupational Therapy in Baltimore and Arlington

Individuals are sure to face several physical problems as they advance in years. Slowing down of activities is often noted in the elderly and ill. Even simple activities such as dressing properly, shaving, and tying the shoelaces may become challenging. Being diagnosed with debilitating problems that affect both the body and the mind may further aggravate the problems. Such issues may also be evident in people who have sustained severe injuries. ​ Moreover, children may be born with genetic defects or have problems adjusting to life, making intervening of an expert imminent. A  doctor may provide the diagnosis and treat urgent health issues. After that, it is the onus of an experienced therapist to take over. Undergoing occupational therapy in Baltimore and Arlington is often the best way forward.

 It is essential to understand that occupational therapy (OT) is a type of rehabilitation that helps one to overcome daily challenges and improve the lifestyle. The concerned therapist is well-equipped to address the related problems. The general medical practitioner or a surgeon may advise occupational therapy for patients who cannot complete routine activities at home, school, or workplace. While a majority of the problems occur due to physical weakness or injury, others may be more of a mental disorder.

 The therapist is responsible for providing therapy as part of the ongoing treatment plan suggested by the doctor in charge. Therapy is never a single process, as the patient requires other types of support in addition to occupational therapy.

Patients battling any of the following ailments or injuries are expected to improve with this type of rehabilitation process:

· Congenital disabilities · Autism · Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) · Fractures · Traumatic brain injuries · Vision changes · Cerebral palsy · Carpal tunnel syndrome · Diverse Types of arthritis, including rheumatoid, psoriatic, and osteoarthritis · Chronic pain · Severe burn injury · Recovering from surgery such as a joint replacement · Sensory processing disorders · Multiple sclerosis · Alzheimer's disease · Cancer · Stroke · Parkinson's disease

The therapist's objective is to ease the discomfort and help the patient relearn certain activities with alternative movement and training. More specifically, the therapist will enable the patient to do the following without requiring assistance:

· Development of  fine motor skills · Improvement of hand-eye coordination · Mastering the lost activities such as showering, getting dressed, or eating · Help with recuperation after surgery · Identify and reduce fall hazards, thus preventing fresh injuries · Provide ample support to manage the condition as best as possible · Use of adaptive equipment like wheelchairs, communication aids, or bathing equipment · Ensure effective cognitive functions · Train the patient to improve mobility or flexibility via regular exercises · Adjust to changing health patterns

The needs of a patient come first. Adult children and family members are well advised to consider effective home care in Baltimore and Washington, D.C., by hiring a skilled home health care provider.

[mariacallous]

During his first term as the U.S. president, Donald Trump occasionally floated the idea of buying Greenland, but few took it seriously. Now Trump is repeating the calls, backed with threats against Denmark, and nobody is chuckling anymore.

The Nordic nation is facing the prospect of a close ally taking Danish territory by force. But despite only having a small army and navy, Denmark has no shortage of economic leverage with which it can try to reason with—or, if necessary, pressure—the U.S. president.

Indeed, there are several Danish multinational companies without whose products and services Americans would feel immediate pain.

Over the weekend, the Financial Times disclosed details about a Jan. 15 call between Trump and Denmark’s prime minister, Mette Frederiksen.

According to the Financial Times, it was a fiery 45-minute conversation in which Trump—who hadn’t yet been inaugurated—was “aggressive and confrontational.” The crux was Fredriksen’s refusal to sell the Arctic island of Greenland to the United States.

Denmark is a committed and well-liked member of NATO, but it can’t change the fact that it’s a small country with a population just shy of 6 million and armed forces of some 20,000 active personnel.

If Trump is serious about acquiring Greenland, Denmark would not be able to mount much of a fight against its NATO ally even if it wanted to—though Washington’s meager aging fleet of icebreakers would make any naval operations in the polar north a challenge. (The will of the Greenlanders appears to be a secondary consideration in Washington.)

But Denmark is not powerless in the matter. On the contrary, it has several trump cards—so to speak���up its sleeve. For starters, the Scandinavian country is home to Maersk, the world’s second-largest container-shipping company by cargo capacity. Most of the world’s nonliquid cargo is transported in containers, and in 2023, the Danish shipping line transported some 24 million worth of them on its 672 ships. Maersk is so large that the firm’s ships account for an estimated 14.3 percent of the global container ship fleet.

In the United States, Maersk delivers goods to and from Baltimore, Charleston, Houston, Jacksonville, Long Beach, Los Angeles, Miami, Mobile, New Orleans, New York, Newark, Norfolk, North Charleston, Oakland, Philadelphia, Port Everglades, Port Hueneme, Savannah, Seattle, Tacoma, Tampa, and Wilmington.

On Jan. 1, for example, the MSC Tomoko arrived in Houston, then traveled to New Orleans and from there to Freeport in the Bahamas. The following day, the MSC Ensenada arrived in Houston, traveling on from there with cargo bound for Colombia and Brazil, according to Maersk’s website, where anyone can track its ships’ calls.

And right now, shipping lines are at—or near—full capacity. If any shipping line were to suddenly stop shipping to or from the United States, other carriers would only be able to fill a tiny share of that gap. If the Danish government banned Maersk from sailing to U.S. ports, then American businesses and consumers would instantaneously feel the pain.

And speaking of pain, millions of Americans would feel it in their waistlines if Frederiksen banned health care company Novo Nordisk from exporting to the United States.

The Danish pharma giant is, after all, the maker of semaglutide—the active ingredient in Ozempic and Wegovy, the weight-loss drugs that have revolutionized anti-obesity and diabetes treatment in the United States. The company produces semaglutide in Denmark and, despite many attempts by copycats and others, genuine Ozempic can’t yet be created from scratch in the United States.

Between 2021 and 2023, the number of Ozempic prescriptions in the United States jumped by nearly 400 percent, an academic study shows. The total number of prescriptions for drugs containing semaglutide reached 2.6 million by December 2023. In May 2023, a survey by Barclays Research estimated that more than half a million Americans were taking Wegovy.

So stratospheric has Ozempic’s rise been in the United States that in 2023, Germany warned that German supplies of the drug intended for patients with diabetes—the disease that the drug was initially developed to treat—were being shipped to weight-loss customers in the United States.

Like Maersk, Novo Nordisk makes large sums of money in America. The company’s shares surged by more than 7 percent last week on news of positive trials for its new obesity drug amycretin. The demand for Ozempic is so strong that Novo Nordisk has invested $4.1 billion in a facility in North Carolina that will make the drug’s key ingredient.

But if the Danish government were to conclude that the country’s security is imperiled by Trump’s threats, it could order Novo Nordisk to cease doing business in the United States. Many Americans would immediately notice the company’s absence.

If Denmark decided to hit back, U.S. consumers might suddenly also notice the absence of luxury Danish furniture and their kids might mourn the loss of the latest Legos. Today, Lego sets are made in Mexico (and Denmark, Hungary, the Czech Republic, and China), though the Danish toy company is building a plant in Virginia that will manufacture for the U.S. market. It is expected to employ more than 1,700 people.

Lego’s U.S. facility is, in fact, a form of friendshoring of the very kind Trump has been calling for. (“Come make your product in America, and we will give you among the lowest taxes of any nation on Earth,” he told global leaders at the World Economic Forum in Davos last week.) But he won’t be able to count on Danish investment if friends are treated like enemies.

A Danish blockade would be a dramatic step, and it’s one that Frederiksen would be reluctant to take. But she should remember that Trump’s trademark is issuing threats and speak back to him in a language that he understands.

Denmark’s prime minister should remind her American counterpart that her country has options that could damage the U.S. economy—and doing so might just level the playing field and lower the temperature, setting the stage for a more serious negotiation around U.S. interests in Greenland.

That’s what Chrystia Freeland—until recently Canada’s deputy prime minister, now running to succeed outgoing Prime Minister Justin Trudeau—did after several Trump overtures suggesting a U.S. takeover of her own country.

“The threats won’t work. We will not escalate, but we will not back down. If you hit us, we will hit back—and our blows will be precisely targeted,” she wrote in a Washington Post op-ed the day before Trump’s inauguration. “We are smaller than you, to be sure, but the stakes for us are immeasurably higher. Do not doubt our resolve.”

Ordinary Americans may not care much about Denmark, but the Scandinavian nation has given them much to enjoy in life. They would certainly hate to lose it.

[rogueshadeaux]

Chapter Thirty-Five — Road to Sanctuary

“By the time I agreed to work with him, he was sure he was onto something bigger,” Zeke continued. “It was a whole conspiracy. Curdun Cay was impossible to find, but apparently he had a group of hackers that managed to break through once. Barely got into a database for experiments before the FBI were at their door.”

7k words | 23—30 min read time | TRIGGER WARNING: death mention, hallucination mention | CHAPTER THEME:

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A very large, very heartfelt thanks for @lobotomizedlemon for trusting me with Alessia Donovan. I've adored this OC since they made her, and I love her story and simply everything she made Sia into. To be able to make this story her home, to be able to claim this her canon and intertwine her route with my own story? Well, I can't think of a higher honor. Love you babe! And I hope you all love this character as much as I do.

I was surprised that the drive to Boston was faster than the one to New Marais. 

Everyone rotated in the gutted out van throughout the two day drive, trying to stay comfortable. Zeke no longer had an inflatable bed — and after hearing about some of his escapades while on the road, I was happy for it — but we ended up finding this large camping mattress thing that we shoved in the back, edge curling up against the back of the van. 

The East Coast was…not a good place. Definitely not one to try and drive through, at least. The closer to the Atlantic ocean we were, the worse everything got. 

Some areas were lucky enough to heal from the Beast. Washington, DC was never touched, and some cities like Roanoke and Charlotte in North Carolina found a way to build up from the rubble. It was a miracle New York City wasn’t toppled, but Philly wasn’t as fortunate. But there were other areas that were ghost towns. I was convinced Baltimore was a myth for the longest time as a kid like Atlantis or El Dorado — till Dad forced us to watch Hairspray: the Musical. It just wasn’t there anymore. The Smoky Mountains had a canyon carved through them that refused to grow any foliage, just dirt and rock and remains of getaway cabins that no one but vandals had bothered to touch in the last twenty-five years. 

Driving to Boston, though, was a challenge; there was no way to ride the coast all the way north, not anymore. We traveled up to Pittsburgh, then even further north to Albany. We couldn’t stick close to the coast here. Anything near the Atlantic was gone, either ghost town or slum or absorbed by the shore. That carnage stopped just under New York City, though, in the waters off of the shores of New Jersey — meaning once we passed the latitude that used to hold Empire City, we could finally travel East. 

It was the dead of night by the time we left Albany after getting a late dinner, Dad sleeping on my right while Brent was laying on my left. Zeke was driving as Dr. Sims worked on his laptop, the sound of phonk music leaking from the earbuds shoved into his ears. I was on my side, trying and failing to sleep as Brent shifted beside me again. And again. And again.

My eyes snapped open. “Dude, would you stop?” 

Brent groaned lightly. “I drank too much coffee at that breakfast joint,” 

I chuckled softly. “I warned you,”

“Shut up.” Brent’s chest heaved a bit with his sigh, and then he finally looked over at me. “This isn’t how I thought that ‘family road trip’ Dad always talked about would go.”

“I know,” I sighed. “Always thought it would be…better than this. After we graduated too, like he said.” 

Brent hummed, staying silent for a minute before saying, “School started three days ago. Mei was telling me about it.” 

God, I had forgotten entirely about school. How was I supposed to even care about it right now? “Think our online classes did too?” 

“They did,” Brent said. “Did you not get the email?” 

“I…” I drew off, feeling the phone burn a hole in the back pocket of my jeans. I barely looked at it since the day I was released from the hospital; I knew if I got on it, I’d break and check out more about the tsunami, and I couldn’t take the image of another flooded house or a funeral with my essence as the victim’s reaper. “I don’t really…use my phone much.” 

Brent looked at me for a moment before nodding. “Okay,” he said, sounding entirely unconvinced. “But yeah, school started Tuesday.”

“I don’t even think I could do any homework right now if you held me at gunpoint,” I admitted

Brent chuffed. “Yeah. Yeah, me too. It almost feels stupid compared to the monsters and Archangel and — fucking time travel. You ever just think about that for a bit?” He asked me, eyes alight. The caffeine was definitely talking. 

But he had a point. “Yeah,” I admitted. Whenever I wasn’t wallowing in some pathetic self pity like my issues mattered more than what I created, I couldn’t help but think about the wild fact that time travel existed. “How do you think he did it?” 

“Probably some overly complicated bullshit that doesn’t exist now,” Brent muttered, light from a lamppost crossing over his face. “Otherwise I feel like Dad would have known about it, ‘cause there’s no way Kessler would’ve been the only time traveler if it was still possible. Or, currently possible.” He huffed, that same look crawling on his face when he was solving a problem or had managed to crack the catcher’s signs on the plate. “Imagine if we could figure that shit out. The things we could do.”

I could think of a list of things I’d love to do if I knew how to time travel — stopping my tsunami being at the top. Brent, though, had different priorities, as after a moment he murmured, “I think I’d try to meet Mom, if I could. Maybe Uncle Brent, Reggie. Dad’s parents.” 

Mom. I forced myself to breathe deeply as my mind pulled forward images of the hallucination when I was dying or dead or whatever; her outfit made of opaque neon and the freckles on her face. The way her eyes shined like Brent’s. 

“Hey, can I…” I drew off; no one but Zeke knew about this and I never took the time to actually describe the hallucination. It felt like a fever dream in retrospect, and yet I needed someone, anyone else to know about it. That’s his mom too. And that’s my twin. I knew I could trust him with anything. “Can I tell you something? You can’t make fun of me,” 

Brent huffed, smiling crookedly. “No promises,” he teased. But when he glanced at me, examining my expression, the smirk fell. “What’s up?” 

I swallowed, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Dad was asleep before turning my head back, leaning in a bit. “I…I saw Mom,” 

Whatever Brent was expecting me to say, it wasn’t that. He blinked a few times in confusion before managing to work out a, “W-what?” 

I explained everything; the field I woke up in, me looking for him first before thinking I’d caught a glimpse of Dad. How I knew this wasn’t where I was before I fell but how I’d gotten there was fuzzy. The forest, the mine, the size of it all. 

And Mom. 

Seeing Mom standing in that drained pond littered with crystal growths. Her face, her words, her smile. I’d told Zeke about this before, sure — but reliving it with Brent was something else entirely. It was a relief to, for a moment, act like it happened and not something I needed to keep secret for fear of either seeming insane or instigating some sort of reaction out of Dad.

By the end, Brent was speechless, chewing so hard on the inside of his cheek I was sure he was going to gnaw a hole straight through it. “It felt so real, Brent,” I murmured, breathing shakily. Retelling every bit of the hallucination nearly made me cry, multiple times. 

Brent was staring at the little bit of mattress between us before he exhaled, looking back up to meet my eyes. “What do you think it was?” He asked solemnly. 

“When…when I talked to Zeke alone about the tar and Cole and all that, he said that it made Cole see stuff too.” I began. “Apparently breathing it in was enough to get the guy to trip — and it got in my blood. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was because of that.” 

He nodded, following my train of thought and adding, “Isn’t it normal for people to imagine dead relatives when they’re dying? They see them standing in the corner of the nursing home or something and think it’s time to leave. Maybe it was something like that?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Sad to think that that hallucination has been one of the best parts of the last two weeks.” 

“Right?” Brent scoffed. “Hasn’t even been a month since we were freaking out about exams.”

I couldn’t help but agree; those dreams of college and comic books seemed so small compared to everything else right now. “Things are so bad now,” I grumbled.

Brent shrugged. “I mean, it’s not all bad. We finally get to see Aunt Sia’s new place."

We hadn’t seen her since the charity gala in Seattle two years ago; between her regular work with COLE and all the added political stuff from the last two years, she’s been too busy to even visit. The New England chapter needed a lot more support than the West Coast, anyways. 

The closer we got to Boston, the more apparent it became how much this entire region was struggling. Boston looked overpopulated between the cars in the street and the homeless on the sidewalk, like it never truly figured out what to do with the refugees from the south before the population started growing again. Every bridge had a plethora of tents underneath it, every soup kitchen had a line a mile long behind it. Brent’s head stayed on a swivel the entire way through the city, and I couldn’t blame him; the buildings here just looked older in a breathtaking way, a testament to this area being one of the first to be settled in America. We both made sure to make jokes towards Dad about a sign pointing towards Rowes Wharf, and watched the skyline with pristine glass and steel buildings reflect back the sunrise as we approached the outskirts of town, turning down more one-way side streets. 

The van lurched forward a bit as Dad pushed on the breaks and parked on the side of the road. There was a row of townhomes nearly touching each other, the alley only small enough to hold trash cans and barely any wiggle room between them, hiding untouched white snow instead of the grayish sludge on the street.

“This is it,” Dr. Sims confirmed Dad’s unasked question. 

As we got out and began fishing for our bags that were stored along the edges of the mattress pad, there was a slamming door, a blur of red and black clothing with fishnets, and a sudden huff from Dr. Sims, who breathlessly laughed. “Hey, Squeaks,” he greeted. 

Aunt Sia was a small woman, but that never stopped her. She took to life like she was bigger than it all, and made it bend to her. That’s what I loved most about her; being able to see someone so small do so much inspired me a lot as someone nearly the same size. I wish I had that much confidence. She almost took down Dr. Sims with her hit, arms wrapped around his waist like she was going to pick him up and carry him back into the house. 

Aunt Sia pulled away, looking up at Dr. Sims with the same face you would an old friend. “I’m so happy to see you!” She chirped, messy bright red updo bouncing with the declaration. Her voice had that softness to it Disney would reserve for its cutest characters, the sorta squeaky tone that would let the main character know hey, I can trust this one. 

Which I guess is why Dr. Sims called her ‘Squeaks,’ though I’d never heard anyone call her that before. I didn’t even know they knew each other personally. 

Aunt Sia turned to Dad, smile going soft. “Delsin,” she gently said. Dad smiled back, and he moved in to give her a hug — and was promptly interrupted in his movement by a quick thwack to the side of the head. 

“Ow!” He complained, looking at Aunt Sia. “What was that for?” 

“Everything that’s happened, and you didn’t think to call me once?” she demanded, now scowling. This was the other side of her I loved; she was a no-nonsense woman. Many arguments between Brent and I when we were younger were quickly extinguished by her ability to see through our bullshit. “I’ve had to find out things from the news or Arthur or—”

“I know, I know,” Dad grumbled, rubbing the spot she hit. “You’ve already yelled at me about it.”

Aunt Sia scoffed. “And I’m going to keep yelling at you about not telling me a thing about my babies,”

At this, she glanced behind him, eyes settling on Brent and I and immediately growing in excitement. “Oh, look at you two!” She cooed, pushing past Dad, who stumbled back a step and rolled his eyes. 

She went to Brent first, regarding him fully. “God, you’ve gotten huge,” she murmured, pulling him into a hug and coming to the middle of his chest. Brent had a huge growth spurt in the time she was gone, and she didn’t look at all happy about the fact as she pulled away from him. “You can’t get any bigger, it makes me feel bad.”

Brent chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he jokingly promised. 

Her eyes traveled over his form to me, somehow getting even softer. “Jeanie,” she smiled, moving to hug me next. 

She was always gentle, in spite of how badass she was. The same woman throwing bricks over bridges at passing DUP convoys was also someone who would hug you softly, like she knew you needed it more than she did. It was weird being a little bit taller than her now, too, but other things never change — like how she still smelled like cinnamon. 

Aunt Sia pulled away and her hands went to cup my face, gray eyes examining me. I knew that look, I knew what she was doing, but it felt less judgmental coming from her. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered before lowering her hands and regarding the group, giving Zeke a nod of acknowledgement before declaring, “Well — who’s hungry?”

“You’ve made a lot of work for me, Delsin,” Aunt Sia chastised, plopping down a bamboo bin on top of all of the COLE paperwork on her round dining table. 

“I know,” he grumbled, unwrapping the bandaging around his arms. 

Brent and I were on the other side of the kitchen, chowing down on breakfast. God, I missed Aunt Sia’s cooking almost as much as I missed her.

Dad glanced over at us. “You act like you’ve never had a homemade meal before,” he jested. Mostly. He did look a little offended.

Brent, mouth full of at least three different types of food, spoke past it to say, “It’s different when it’s Aunt Sia’s food,” 

“Bean, not with your mouth full,” Aunt Sia laughed, smiling so hard the single dimple on her left cheek popped out. Brent turned beet — or maybe bean — red at the childhood nickname and muttered something about being a man that we all ignored.

Dr. Sims moved to finish undoing Dad’s bandaging for him as Aunt Sia and Zeke began pulling things out of the bin. Even more files, a few different flash drives, a couple chips that were probably dead drops. “I kept it all,” she said, looking up at the group. Her eyes seemed to immediately flit to Dr. Sims’ back, like she was talking to him specifically. “I don’t have a way to listen to any of the audio anymore—“ 

“I do,” Zeke said, reassuring her. “In my bag. I’ll go get it,”

“Good! Good, okay then. Delsin, I also still have some of the things from Seattle, too.” She added. 

Dad nodded, “From Project Sanctuary? Or the Conduit Rights League?”

Aunt Sia shrugged. “Both. I used my volunteer time at one to inform the other, so I suppose they go hand-in-hand.”

“Is that how you two met?” I asked suddenly. It was very obvious that they’d known each other from before — it was more a question of how before it was. “You knew Dad as…Delsin? Even back then?”

Aunt Sia looked at Dad — and then glanced at Dr. Sims before letting her eyes return to me. “I did, but it’s not how we met. Eugene introduced me.”

Brent blinked, swallowing away a mouthful of food before asking, “So you knew Dr. Sims then too? Did you all meet in Seattle?”

Dr. Sims chuffed, eyes far away like he was reliving some memory. “Oh, no. Alessia was my closest friend in high school, before everything,”

My eyes went wide, and I glanced between the two of them. “You’re kidding,” They’ve known each other since high school? Since my age? Maybe even earlier?

Aunt Sia put a hand on Dr. Sims’ shoulder, squeezing once. “We met on an old video game,” she informed us, laughing slightly. “Didn’t even know we went to the same school together until I…helped him out.”

“Hard to mistake a voice like hers,” Dr. Sims chuckled. 

“Right, ‘cause that’s what gave it away, not you playing on your computer during lunch.” Aunt Sia rolled her eyes. “But yes, I…I’ve known your father for a while. We did a bit of work together in Seattle.”

Dad was still unwinding his bandaging, saying through the bit in his teeth, “Alessia was the only way I could stay in touch with Eugene, after your mother died.” He let the bandage fall from his mouth as he peeled the brown away from his forearm. “Couldn’t reach out to him normally. Had to be careful.”

I nodded, looking down at the ground; Aunt Sia must have followed Dad out of Seattle when everything happened. It made sense, right? And I’m actually really glad he had some support during that time. Losing your fiancée, becoming a single father, having to go into witness protection — that sounded like hell. At least he had someone.

But still, it all just felt like another lie. 

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the negativity as I instead concentrated on Dad, who was beginning to peel the gauze off of his arms. “Do you need any help?” I offered, setting the plate on the counter behind me. I wanted to be helpful in some way, especially since I couldn’t do anything to prevent this injury in the first place. My dreams were plagued by the gaps that riddled Dad’s skin, only nightmares would paste them to my skin instead. And I wouldn’t be able to fast track the healing like he could.

Dad shook his head. “I’m hoping it’s done healing,” he said. “And if not I shouldn’t need much medicine.” And luckily for him, he was right; the skin on his arms was fully healed, save for some redness and flaking that he shooed away with a quick rub under the faucet, like it was nothing. 

I couldn’t help but look at him in jealousy as he moved to gather all his used bandages and throw them away, arms fresh and recovered. 

Zeke walked back into the room, that little device he used to listen to the other dead drops in his hands. “Here you are, Alessia,” he said, handing it to Aunt Sia, who immediately began trying to plug it into one of Dr. Sims’ computers. 

“So what are you guys hoping to figure out?” Aunt Sia asked as she flipped the USB port of the cord after it refused to plug in. 

Dad grabbed a blueberry pancake and shoved it in his mouth sans syrup, helpfully saying between chews: “Anything.”

Dr. Sims decided to clarify. “Zeke has a journal from Dr. Wolfe. The First Sons scientist, not the reporter. According to him, they had ice soldiers a lot like the ones that attacked Salmon Bay. And they swiped some hard drives from the underground base in New Marais that I’m trying to recover files on.”

Aunt Sia blinked. “You think…whoever this Archangel is, they’re tied to the First Sons somehow?” 

“Well, we’re hoping we’re wrong,” Dad said. He then looked over at Dr. Sims. “Have you gotten anywhere with the hard drives? And the journal?”

Dr. Sims didn’t answer immediately; he turned to one of the computers, opening some sort of program file and clicking away. “Hopefully it finished translating every page of the journal on our ride up here,” he muttered, clicking around some more. A mouse scroll, and he said, “Almost done, it’s on the last few pages.” 

“And the hard drives?” Zeke asked, moving to approve some pop up on Dr. Sims’ computer. 

Dr. Sims glanced at his hand disapprovingly when he touched the ‘enter’ button, taking a moment to respond, “I made pretty decent headway there, but I can’t guarantee we’ll get anything good from it. These drives are both futuristic and from the nineteen-nineties. It's old and yet unlike tech I’ve ever seen. Doesn’t help that the military wiped them. A triple pass of the entire storage space is hard to reverse.” 

Dad flinched at that, like something about the statement mattered more than if it was just some random joe that did the same. “So what’re the chances you’d be able to recover anything?” He asked. 

Dr. Sims sighed. “Right now? Slim.” Dad groaned and Dr. Sims held up a hand. “But, if I could get your support on this…I might have more luck.” 

Aunt Sia looked at the man curiously as he readjusted his glasses. “Isn’t that dangerous?” She asked, immediately concerned. I glanced over at Brent who looked just as confused, answering my unasked question with a shrug — what on Earth were they talking about?

“It is,” Dr. Sims said. “But with Delsin’s help, I should be fine.” 

Aunt Sia didn’t look convinced at all, but she sighed hard. “Okay. Do you need anything?” 

Dr. Sims shook his head. “Just Delsin.” 

Dad moved, taking a spot by Zeke as Aunt Sia stepped aside, arms crossed and with that worried scowl on her face. Dad’s hand came out and he pressed it against the screen, the press of his hand causing the screen to warp and bend as the home screen became lost to pixels that popped like static, crawling off of the screen with each crackle and onto Dad’s skin as he drained video. The screen flickered but didn’t go completely black like I had seen before, motors whirring to turn it back on like it was programmed specifically to fight against the drain. 

Dad moved his hand and nodded to Dr. Sims, who pressed his own palms against the main laptop of his hub and closed his eyes, brow furrowing. The screen grew brighter, the light encapsulating his hands as he glowed blue with it, and there was a flash that disoriented me. “Ah, fuck!” Brent exclaimed from somewhere. 

I blinked hard as sight slowly returned to my eyes, looking around; Dr. Sims wasn’t in the room anymore. Dad was still standing in the same spot, hands out as he kept a stream of pixelated blue between him and the computers. “Wh—” I cut off, looking around a bit just in case I missed Dr. Sims. “Where did…”

“Damn, so that’s what it looks like when he does that?” Zeke asked, looking at the screen. 

I looked around Dad at the computer screen, faltering when I saw it; it was blue like most of Dr. Sims’ video powers, but the screen warped and twisted on itself like an oil spill in a gas station parking lot, bending and churning and swirling. Dr. Sims was here, with files on his computer screen…and now he wasn’t, and the screen looked like something that could be stepped through. “Is…” I drew off, glancing at Aunt Sia, “Is Dr. Sims—”

She nodded, “In the computer, yep.”

Brent looked over at me wide eyed, balking. ��He’s in the computer? Like a virus?”

Dad decided to speak this time, “He’s rebuilding the database from the inside out. And I’m trying to make sure he doesn’t run into an irreversible issue and dies, so if I could have some silence, that’d be great.”

Well, jeez, with a risk like that, he didn’t have to ask twice. 

We all stayed quiet as Dad held his hands towards the computer screen, brow furrowed in concentration. Aunt Sia seemed too nervous to not move around, succumbing to a pace that had her walking the five steps back and forth between the back door and the swinging door that led to her living room, combat boots threatening to carve a hole in the tile. 

The fans on the laptop whirred to life, kicking up like a helicopter trying to lift off, and Aunt Sia froze, turning to watch the screen. Brent and I did too; the ambient color shifting of the screen left, the entire thing vibrating from the center outwards. The edges of the screen got brighter, and Brent and I both made sure to look away this time, me turning around completely to face him while he hid his eyes in the crook of his elbow. The blast of energy that happened was so strong that I could feel the wave of warm air, my eyelids going pink with the flash as Dr. Sims reentered the room, huffing like he had just ran a marathon. 

Aunt Sia’s shoes hit the ground so hard the floor vibrated, and I turned in time to see her push Dad aside a bit and wrap an arm around Eugene’s shoulder, demanding, “Are you okay?” 

“Y-yeah, yeah,” He huffed out, forcing a deep breath. He looked behind himself at Dad, “I got somewhere. Didn’t manage to dig up a lot, but I got something. I just need to finish refining it.” 

Dad nodded as his hands fell to his side, relieved. “Good, okay. Hopefully there’ll be something worth it in there.” 

“We can look at this stuff in the meantime,” Zeke decided, moving to begin to pull stuff out of the bamboo bin Aunt Sia had brought out.

Aunt Sia began flipping through the files Zeke set near her, Dad moving to her side. “This is a lot more than I sent you guys,” he said. 

“We just needed you to do the dirtiest work for us,” Aunt Sia said with a hint of a tease to her voice, looking over her shoulder at Dad. 

Dad gave her a sarcastic smile, picking up a random manilla envelope from the pile to open. He was always so comfortable around Aunt Sia — I missed their cohesion over the years since she moved. “What all is in this? Do you remember?”

Aunt Sia trilled her lips. “Not a lot that wasn’t revealed in the UN trial,” she sighs, holding up various papers and flipping through them. “What Augustine subjected the Conduits to, natural RFE, the Ray Sphere. They were trying to figure out something about Conduits, but…we didn’t figure out what before Raymond Wolfe died. You went and tore down the DUP and so many files disappeared.”

Brent, food finally finished, decided he wanted to remind everyone he was in the room by saying, “So all the messed up things they did were erased?”

Dad held up a finger. “Hold on — the Ray Sphere?” he asked. 

Aunt Sia nodded. “You’ve gotta remember, whatever the First Sons were working on in New Marais? They got it. And that includes—” Aunt Sia cuts off, looking through the files in her hands and then two on the table before handing one to Dad. “—the Ray Sphere prototype.”

Dad took the file, thumbing through the pages as Brent and I did the worst job at trying to be discreet while looking over his shoulder. 

I could remember the Ray Sphere Zeke showed Brent and I, the mock up that was in that journal. The near perfect roundness, the little indent like the crater that held the scary secret weapon on the Death Star imprinted on its dome. This? This was nothing like it. It was a contraption held together by wire and hope, more pill-shaped than round and with two handles on each side as if to steer it. I wasn’t close enough to read the notes, but Dad seemed to find something that shocked him. “‘Unrefined raythium mined from the Earth’s core?’” he read aloud, looking to Aunt Sia for confirmation. 

Brent’s brow furrowed. “Raythium? Like the stuff in the Earth’s core?”

“By the core,” Dr. Sims corrected. “It’s what remains of Theia when it crashed into Earth eons ago.”

“It’s what causes the Ray Field too, right?” I asked, moving to sit at the table opposite the adults. I remembered that from my Earth Science exam two weeks ago; the radioactive remains of Theia were close enough to the core to be pulled into the whole process that made Earth’s electromagnetic field, the churning with the iron and stuff in the center making the Ray Field. 

Dr. Sims nodded, “And what Conduits use to convert energy into their conduvergence matter.”

“I still don’t get how that works,” I admitted with a mutter. 

Dad looked like he was working through some sort of math problem in his mind. “So the First Sons were…trying to use raythium to activate Conduits? Like MacGrath?”

“Not Cole,” Zeke chimed in, moving to lean against a wall. “He got the end product when they perfected it and started using rayacite instead. But the Blast cores Cole used to ‘power up?’ Those came from New Marais and Bertrand’s testing.”

“Wonder if that’s why Bertrand’s power was so messed up,” Dad hummed. “If he used raythium to activate his power, he basically nuked himself with radiation. Isn’t raythium really radioactive?”

Dr. Sims leaned back in the kitchen chair. “It is. If Earth’s geodynamo process was any different, and a fraction of the radioactive RFE in the core leaked out, there’d be no life on Earth.”

Brent and I glanced at each other, grimacing; that was a fun fact we could have lived without. 

“Let’s just…start with what we know,” Aunt Sia said, turning to her bin after an awkward pause and digging in it. Eventually she pulled out a small manilla folder with some sort of crinkly window on it, revealing a dead drop a lot like the ones Zeke kept in his way-less-organized ammo box. “Here, Angel, put this in.” 

She held it out and Dr. Sims took it from her, him taking long enough to play it for me to look up at Brent as he mouthed Angel? at me with a raised eyebrow. I guess they really did know each other. 

The speakers on the leftmost laptop crackled a bit, the computer’s motors picking up as the dead drop began to play. “Cole’s Gift: Short Lived or Just Beginning, by Raymond Wolfe.” The voice began, firm and lyrical like any other reporters’. “It’s common knowledge that when Cole MacGrath died he not only cured the plague that was sweeping the world, but took every Conduit with him to his grave. What we didn’t know was that this would be temporary. Within a year, rumors emerged of the return of the Conduit gene. Some believed that the plague had survived and mutated, this time creating Conduits rather than killing normals. Some believed that not all the Conduits were actually killed, that a few remained and were somehow able to spread their abilities.” 

I shook my head. That didn’t sound right—how do you spread a gene? Besides the obvious procreational way. 

“I’ve personally looked into both of these urban legends and have yet to find any proof of either of them.” Raymond Wolfe said, agreeing with me. “Which is why I’m here in Seattle. I believe the DUP know more than they are letting on.”

The recording stuttered short there, Brent saying what I was thinking: “That’s it? That was his report? That was nothing,”

Dad’s eyes screwed shut like it was painful for him to think. “I remember Raymond saying something about…the DUP having a hand in the gene?” He asked like he wasn’t sure, opening his eyes to look between Aunt Sia and Zeke. “Did you guys ever learn what he was after?” 

Aunt Sia shook her head. “He died before he got anywhere.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “That’s nice,” he said, tone suggesting it wasn’t at all. 

Zeke ignored the jib, saying, “Raymond found me, long before we took this to Project Sanctuary. Came knocking on my door in the swamp and nearly found out what the business end of a twelve gauge felt like. Apparently when Wolfe, the doctor, was captured and the Militia bombed his lab, it triggered some sorta failsafe in his computer to email Raymond a goodbye letter. He showed me it.” After a moment, Zeke continued, “It admitted to everything he did. Shit Cole and I didn’t even know about. Some sorta final attempt at soothing his subconscious or something.

“He mentioned Cole in it, his one attempt at redemption. Everyone knows the heroes, not the sidekicks, so it took a while for him to find me. Three years, to be exact. The DUP had started putting people away in droves and he thought they had a hand in the fact that they were coming back to begin with. Asked me to help — tell him what I knew from back then with Wolfe and Cole.”

Dad’s brow furrowed. “And?” 

Zeke sighed. “I told him to fuck off before I used him for chum in a gator trap.” 

Whatever Dad was expecting, it wasn’t that; he blinked hard twice before eventually asking, dumbfounded, “What?”

“I didn’t want anything to do with it at first.” Zeke admitted. “I was mourning and pissed at the world. My best friend did everything he could to fix what Kessler started and not only did it not matter, but they were making him into some sorta villain.” He looked at Delsin. “You know what that’s like.”

Dad just seemed to relent with a single nod. “By the time I agreed to work with him, he was sure he was onto something bigger,” Zeke continued. “It was a whole conspiracy. Curdun Cay was impossible to find, but apparently he had a group of hackers that managed to break through once. Barely got into a database for experiments before the FBI were at their door.”

I heard of the testing done in Curdun Cay long before I knew Dad was Delsin. Everyone did. It was one of those blemishes the history teachers would breeze over in class and you’d have to learn after seeing a survivor’s interview on television or some post on social media. I learned about it from a Wikipedia rabbit hole when writing a report on Delsin Rowe’s tag art and importance of civilian empowerment. 

Dad’s art. Dad. 

And apparently, Dad seemed just as familiar with those stories as he sighed. “That could’ve been anything,” he said solemnly. 

“It could’ve been,” Zeke agreed. “But you don’t think she had a reason for doing what she did?”

No one had a good retort to that. 

Dad’s eyes traveled thoughtfully from Zeke’s face to the bin Aunt Sia had brought out and he stepped forward, digging around in it for a minute and rejecting two different dead drop sleeves before finding what he was looking for. He pulled the little chip out of its folder and handed it to Aunt Sia, who put it into the player without question. 

“Report by Augustine.” Her voice was softer than anything I heard from her on Christmas eve—but it still sent a jolt down my spine so violent I jerked in my seat a bit, hair on the back of my neck standing on end. “While the inciting incident that supposedly claimed the lives of all the Conduits was in fact a lie, it was not one created by the DUP. Conduits did live through Cole’s Gift, myself included.”

I hated how tense her voice made me. I hated how I could hear waves roaring in my ears despite being in the middle of Hyde Park. I glanced over at Brent, who was trying his hardest to scowl a hole into the fridge’s door before looking down at the table, trying to shake the tension from my shoulders. Not that that helped; all it did was turn my attention to the cast on my arm — the cuts and scrapes still healing from the car crash and the monster chase — and it just made my stomach churn more. 

After a breath, Augustine continued, “Instead, we used the calm to build, learn, and prepare. We got better at early detection and collection. Curdun Cay’s facilities were upgraded and we built an army. The events here in Seattle will ensure the DUP will be funded for the foreseeable future.” 

A hand landed on my shoulder and I jumped, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. My head snapped back and the sight of red hair made my heart stutter until I realized it was too red, with exposed black roots — not wild and gray streaked and more auburn than cherry. Aunt Sia looked down at me in concern as I tried to force my breathing to steady, hand moving from my shoulder to rub my back reassuringly.

“This will allow me to expand our facilities abroad.” Augustine confided in the recording in a hushed tone, like they were sharing secrets under a duvet at a sleepover. “We have made an excellent headway on establishing a permanent science facility in Australia. The work we’ve already done there using Dr. Sebastian Wolfe’s notes on the Conduit is…” She drew off, breathing deeply, “Well, awe inspiring, even to me.”

The recording cut short right there, and we were all left in silence for a considerable few seconds. 

“‘Wolfe’s notes on the Conduit,’” Dad eventually asked, looking up at Zeke. “What notes?” 

Zeke looked to Aunt Sia, who sighed. “He thought Augustine was trying to influence the gene to create herself a little army,” she began, “And that, since the DUP had information on the Ray Sphere and RFE, that she was planning this mass event that would have activated Conduits everywhere, make it impossible for the world to ignore Conduits.” 

Dad huffed. “She was locking up every gene positive person she could find,” he pointed out. “You believed that?”

“Yeah.” Aunt Sia responded, that firm finality in her voice that always lingered in its tone whenever she refused to hear otherwise. “I did. Because when I heard about what happened in there? I refuse to believe it was just for shits and giggles. Augustine was up to something, you can’t tell me she wasn’t.”

Dad didn’t seem convinced. “When I fought her, she said she was just…trying to keep them outta the hands of the government,” he started, brow screwed tight as he tried to access the memory from that time. “That the military was the reason they died in the beginning, and she was the only thing keeping them safe.”

Aunt Sia cocked an eyebrow at Dad. “You believed that?” she returned with the same doubtful tone he had earlier. 

Dad faltered as he considered her words, and Aunt Sia stepped forward, a hand going to Dr. Sims’ shoulder. I hadn’t noticed it till this very moment, but it seemed like Brent and I weren’t the only ones bothered by Augustine’s voice; Dr. Sims’ jaw was tense, the fingertips of his right hands sort of tapping against the keys like he wanted to distract himself with typing but couldn’t think of the words. “After everything Eugene told me, it’s—I can’t believe that she didn’t have some sort of ulterior motive.” Dad opened his mouth to retort and Aunt Sia continued without waiting, “Someone that cares about Conduits doesn’t torture them to see what they can do. They don’t experiment on them, and they sure as hell don’t train them to kill. Fetch wasn’t the only one she did that too.”

Dad’s shoulders immediately tensed when Aunt Sia mentioned Mom, looking off like the mere mention of what happened then made him want to slew a string of curse words. He took a moment to run his hand over his face before asking, “So, what? She was slowly building some sort of army?”

Aunt Sia sighed, shrugging. “I’m not sure. I can’t say I fully believed the idea, because I didn’t. I still don’t. But she was doing something in that little ivory castle of hers, I can promise you that. We just don’t know what.” 

Dr. Sims suddenly sat up in his chair, eyes scanning over the entirety of his screen as he said, “We may have just found out,” before looking over his shoulder at Dad. “I can access the hard drives now.”

Dad moved to Dr. Sims’ shoulder as Aunt Sia’s hand moved to grip the back of the chair I was sitting in, tense. “What d’ya got?” Zeke asked, leaned against a back wall. 

“A lot of…corrupted files…” Dr. Sims hummed, hands working overtime as he typed away. I couldn’t see what he was doing but Brent could, his eyes moving from scowling and angry to a bit wide as he watched Dr. Sims do his thing. “Maybe I’ll have more luck in the network file share…”

Dr. Sims continued his typing, brow furrowed as he dug in the computer’s data mine, looking for gold, the screen reflecting in his glasses; I couldn’t make out the words, but what I could see were the multiple popup windows and various loading bars, Dr. Sims looking like someone straight out of some cliché hacker scene. 

But white suddenly overtook his glasses as something bigger popped up on screen, lines of text spawning faster than he could read it. Dad leaned forward, lips moving ever so slightly as he silently read off of the screen. 

Zeke was the first to crack. “What did you find?” He asked. 

Dad and Dr. Sims shot each other a glance. “Notes from the First Sons,” Dr. Sims hummed, reading further. “About power transfer, forced Conduits, RFE exposure, and…evolution.” 

“Evolution?” Aunt Sia asked, “Like the gene evolving to survive the RFI?” 

Dad shook his head. “No—evolution to make a Conduit all powerful.” 

[beardedmrbean]

The family of a Virginia high school student are filing a lawsuit claiming the staff of her high school secretly transitioned her to a male, which set off a chain of events in which the teen ran away and became a victim of sex trafficking.

Michele Blair filed a lawsuit against the Appomattox County School Board, district staff and a Maryland public defender, claiming that her daughter Sage had been transitioned by faculty at the school without her knowledge – while a public defender later fought Blair's efforts to regain custody of her child.

"They stole my right to protect my daughter," Blair said of the lawsuit in an interview with the Washington Examiner. "I'm the parent, I am an expert on my child, there is nobody in the school or court system that knows my daughter better than me. They will never know my daughter better than I do."

Blair said that Sage had a troubled childhood and suffered from mental health issues when she began attending Appomattox County High School in 2021. While at the school, Sage began identifying as male and using male pronouns with the help and support of staffers at the school, something Blair says in the suit was "deliberately concealed" from her parents. That transition also led to severe bullying by classmates, Blair said, something that staffers were aware of.

"It was verbal, physical, sexually harassed with constant threats of rape by the male classmates," Blair said. "Despite this, the school encouraged her to use the boys' bathroom."

The bullying eventually led Sage to run away from home, Blair said, resulting in the then-14-year-old being kidnapped and raped by multiple men in four different states.

According to the lawsuit, Sage was initially taken to Washington, D.C., after being abducted and was left with two men, who drugged and raped the teen. Sage was then allegedly driven to Maryland and left with a registered sex offender, who drugged and raped the child.

Sage was eventually rescued from the situation by federal authorities, but the trauma didn't end there, according to the allegations. Baltimore public defender Aneesa Khan fought returning the teen to the parent's custody after a rescue, arguing that the family were not "sufficiently affirming" of Sage’s new gender identity, according to Blair.

That resulted in Sage being put into a juvenile facility for adolescent males, "where she was again sexually assaulted, exposed to drugs, and denied medical and mental health care," according to the lawsuit.

Sage then ran away from that facility but was allegedly found by yet another pedophile, who trafficked the teen to Texas, "where she was again raped, drugged, starved, and tortured until law enforcement in Texas rescued her and notified her mother who returned her to Virginia," the lawsuit said.

Vernadette Broyles, an attorney with the Child & Parent Rights Campaign who represents that family, said that Sage has been forced to undergo "intensive in-patient and outpatient therapy to address the multiple incidents of extreme trauma caused by Defendants’ acts and omissions," adding that the teen also suffers from complex post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Natasha M. Dartigue, the top public defender in Maryland, defended Khan's actions, telling the Washington Examiner that the attorney had "appropriately represented her client in accordance with her legal, ethical, and professional obligations."

Dartigue's office did not immediately respond to a Fox News Request for comment.

The case has caught the attention of Virginia's Republican Governor Glenn Youngkin, who released new guidance aimed at mitigating school policies that contributed to Sage's case.

"Sage's tragic story demonstrates the importance of parental involvement," a Youngkin spokesperson told the Washington Examiner. "For Sage and students, parents and teachers across the Commonwealth, the governor will continue to empower parents and ensure the privacy, dignity, and respect of all students with the model policies."

The Appomattox County Public School District did not immediately respond to a Fox News Digital request for comment.

Meanwhile, Blair told the Washington Examiner that Sage "doesn't remember a lot of it because of the trauma" and that managing her PTSD will be challenging.

"That doesn't mean she won't have a happy life, but she will always struggle with flashbacks of horrible, horrible memories," Blair said. "But I will just love her through them all."

Blair said the family are taking things "a day at a time," adding that she is "looking forward to a brighter future" for Sage.

[bookishbrigitta]

In case you had paywall issues or found the ads on the site made your computer crash, here's the article:

By Judy Stone

Telehealth will end on December 31 unless Congress takes urgent action to pass the Telehealth Moderniztion Act of 2024.

Before COVID, Medicare provided limited coverage for telehealth and mainly limited it to rural patients. It required them to go to a local hospital or clinic to interact with a specialist until early 2020. At the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, Medicare greatly expanded coverage to include patients anywhere, allowing them to access specialty care from home. Expanded services also included physical and occupational therapy, emergency department visits, and nursing facility care via telehealth. This expansion provided care to Medicare’s 64 million enrollees and broadened pre-existing access for 76 million low-income Americans on Medicaid.

It’s not just patients on Medicare/Medicaid who need to worry if this bill isn’t renewed. Private insurers often follow Medicare’s lead regarding what services they will cover.

Congress.gov summarizes the H.R. 7623 Telehealth Modernization Act of 2024 as follows: “This bill modifies requirements relating to coverage of telehealth services under Medicare.

Specifically, the bill permanently extends certain flexibilities that were initially authorized during the public health emergency relating to COVID-19. Among other things, the bill allows (1) rural health clinics and federally qualified health centers to serve as the distant site (i.e., the location of the health care practitioner); (2) the home of a beneficiary to serve as the originating site (i.e., the location of the beneficiary) for all services (rather than for only certain services); and (3) all types of practitioners to furnish telehealth services, as determined by the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services.”

Why Does Telehealth Matter?

Being able to access medical remotely has been a huge boon to many, particularly in rural areas or those who are disabled.

Jessica Offir, PhD, is a disabled health care advocate and social psychologist for whom telemedicine is a priority issue. She observed that a stumbling block to the renewal of the bill is that “insurance companies didn't want to pay the same amounts as they were for in-person care, but providers have been insisting on it.” She added, “Trump is also wanting to reduce Medicare & Medicaid payouts, and this is one way to make that happen, as telehealth greatly increased the healthcare access of the elderly and disabled. Take away access, and payments decrease. The only entities who benefit are insurers.”

My own family are ardent supporters of access to telemedicine. We live in western Maryland, a three-hour drive to the university hospitals in Washington/Baltimore. I’m unable to drive that far, so increasingly rely on remote services, particularly for specialties that are poorly represented in our town. If telemedicine services are cut, I will be unable to access some specialties I need. Someone drives me twice a year for in-person examinations. These increasingly feel hazardous to my health for two reasons—one is the worsening traffic and trucking on the interstate. The other is that while my family still recognizes that the COVID-19 pandemic has not ended, our providers have not. They have stopped masking and even turned off HEPA filters in exam areas and waiting rooms, leaving them abandoned and useless. I take an Aranet CO2 monitor with me everywhere and try to educate people. On one recent visit, the CO2 level went from 600 ppm when I entered the exam room, to 1704 ppm before I left! That’s a level that can make you sleepy and show poorer judgment. I explained to the physician that each breath that he took had 3.4% rebreathed air from someone else, per SN Rudnick and Don Milton’s study, popularized by David Elfstrom’s reference table. That caught his attention and recognition of his potential risk of a Covid or other respiratory tract infection.

My experience is not unique. A recent article found that more than 17 percent of older Medicare beneficiaries similarly report difficulty traveling to doctor’s offices. Those over 65 averaged about 17 contact days that year for ambulatory care. That rose to 30 contact days per year for the 14 percent of patients with ten or more chronic illnesses—a considerable time and energy burden.

Another study of cancer patients found (73.8%) rated their first telemedicine visit as good as or better than an in-person visit, and 4606 (18.9%) rated it superior. In another striking example, those who received care through telehealth with peer assistance were almost seven times more likely to be treated for hepatitis C and four times more likely to achieve viral clearance after six months.

One bit of good news is that on November 15, the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) and the Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) announced they will extend telemedicine flexibilities through 2025. This is an important win for access to medication in end-of-life care. More than 40,000 comments were submitted to the DEA.

Paying for telehealth is a major concern now, although there has been bipartisan support for the bill. A House Republican staffer explained that “Medicare beneficiaries are on a cliff, losing tele services after December 31 2024.” Congress is negotiating how long another extension could look like and where the funding will come from, with the two parties not yet in agreement.

There have been higher per-person costs where more telehealth is used. On the other hand, telemedicine might improve patient compliance with medications and reduce costly emergency room visits.

One can argue about relative costs, but the bottom line is that there are people behind these numbers—largely disabled, elderly and rural. There are some concerns about ensuring quality of care, but that appears to be minor.

The Action Network is encouraging people to write their Congressional representatives to urge them to pass this Telehealth Modernization Act before the end of the year. It’s the only chance of saving it. With the news of planned slashes to government spending, there is no time to waste.

As Offir reminds us, “Once again, the people who will be most harmed are the vulnerable populations that can least afford to be.”

You can contact your House representatives here, and Senators here.

Please contact your Congresspeople about this one. It's vital.

You can send an email via ResistBot here:

[outlookindiacom71]

NFL season is in the books, and for the first time in US history, legal sportsbooks took action on the games in more than a dozen states across the country.

Oddsmakers told ESPN that Sunday was a “decent day,” as the house came out on top on what was a busy kickoff to the most popular betting season in America. However, some bettors fared quite well in week one.

The most notable win came on a $30,000 wager placed at the PointsBet book in New Jersey. The sports betting operator features a twist on how its NFL gambling works, allowing bettors to win (and lose) 1x their bet per point away from the spread.

In this case, the bettor risked $30,000 on the Ravens spotting the Dolphins six points. The maximum win/loss was set at a whopping $600,000. With Baltimore defeating the lowly Dolphins 59-10, the PointsBet wager was multiplied by 43 for a total haul of $1,290,000. But because the max win/loss was $600,000, the bettor takes home that amount. Not bad for a Sunday.

Week One Wins The Ravens delivered sportsbooks a loss on Sunday, as casinos reported lopsided action on Baltimore. Caesars said 93.7 percent of the money it took on the game was on the favorite.

A Philadelphia fanatic wagered $45,000 at the Westgate SuperBook in Las Vegas on the Eagles beating the Washington Redskins straight up on -450 odds. The bet – which didn’t look good early on, as the Eagles trailed 17-0, net $10,000 after Philly managed to come back and win, 32-27.

DraftKings took a $100,000 mobile wager in New Jersey on the Indianapolis Colts (+6.5) and Jacksonville Jaguars (+3.5). The Colts covered in overtime 30-24, but the Jags failed to cover in their 40-26 loss against the Kansas City Chiefs.

PointsBet offset some of its $600,000 loss after the Buffalo Bills topped the home team New York Jets, 17-16.

Browns Bust The hype surrounding the Cleveland Browns was massive entering the 2019-20 season. Hopes are high for the team that hasn’t made the playoffs since 2002.

The hype was short-lived.

Tennessee Titans quarterback Marcus Mariota tossed three touchdown passes in his team’s 43-13 rout of the Browns. Cleveland QB Baker Mayfield was picked off three times in the final 15 minutes in what was a dismal opening week showing.

Everybody is going to throw this in the trash,” Mayfield said of the loss. “I think that is good. I know what type of men we have in this locker room.”동행복권파워볼

“Quite frankly, I do not give a damn what happens on the outside. I know how we are going to react. I know what we are going to do. We are going to bounce back. We have a Monday night game coming up, so we do not really care. We are ready to go,” the second-year star said.

The Browns – along with the Chicago Bears – attracted the most Super Bowl action prior to week one at multiple sports books. Both teams began the season with a loss.

[skaddy111]

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What We Inspect

At Komodo Home Inspection Services, our inspections cover every major system and component of a home. From the structural elements to the mechanical systems, we leave no stone unturned in our efforts to ensure that your property is safe, functional, and in good condition.

We begin by inspecting the exterior of the home, including the roof, siding, foundation, windows, doors, and gutters. Our goal is to identify any potential issues with the structure of the home, such as cracks in the foundation, roof damage, or water infiltration. We also assess the grading and drainage around the home to ensure that water is being directed away from the foundation, preventing potential water damage.

Inside the home, we conduct a thorough inspection of the interior systems, including the plumbing, electrical, heating, and cooling systems. We check for proper operation of all appliances, fixtures, and outlets, and we assess the condition of the HVAC system to ensure that it is functioning efficiently. Our inspectors also examine the home’s insulation and ventilation systems, checking for potential energy efficiency issues that could impact your utility bills.

We pay special attention to the home’s structural components, including the foundation, framing, and support beams. Any signs of structural damage or weakness are carefully documented in our inspection report. We also inspect the home’s attic and basement, looking for signs of water damage, mold, or pest infestations that could compromise the integrity of the property.

Our inspections also include a thorough assessment of the home’s electrical system, checking for proper wiring, grounding, and panel operation. We ensure that the electrical system is up to code and capable of supporting the home’s energy needs safely.

Finally, we inspect the plumbing system, looking for leaks, water pressure issues, and any potential problems with the pipes, faucets, or water heater. Our goal is to identify any issues that could lead to costly repairs down the line, ensuring that you’re fully informed about the condition of the home’s plumbing.

The Importance of Home Inspections

A professional home inspection is a crucial step in the home buying or selling process. For buyers, a home inspection provides valuable insight into the condition of the property, allowing you to make informed decisions about whether to proceed with the purchase or negotiate repairs. For sellers, a pre-listing inspection can help identify any issues that may need to be addressed before listing the property, ensuring a smoother and more successful sale.

At Komodo Home Inspection Services, we understand the importance of a thorough and accurate inspection. Our certified home inspectors are trained to identify potential issues that could impact the safety, functionality, or value of a home. We take pride in providing our clients with detailed inspection reports that clearly outline any findings, along with recommendations for repairs or further evaluation.

In Maryland, DC, and Virginia, home inspections are essential for protecting your investment and ensuring the safety of your family. Whether you’re buying or selling, a professional home inspection from Komodo Home Inspection Services gives you the confidence you need to move forward with your transaction.

Why We Stand Out

At Komodo Home Inspection Services, we are committed to providing the highest level of service to our clients. We stand out from other home inspection companies because of our dedication to quality, our use of advanced technology, and our commitment to customer satisfaction.

Our inspectors use the latest tools and technology to conduct thorough inspections, including thermal imaging cameras, moisture meters, and more. This allows us to identify issues that may not be visible to the naked eye, such as hidden leaks, electrical problems, or insulation deficiencies.

We also take a customer-focused approach to our services, ensuring that our clients feel informed and supported throughout the inspection process. Our inspectors take the time to explain their findings in detail, answer any questions, and provide guidance on how to address any issues that are identified. We believe that an informed client is a satisfied client, and we work hard to ensure that you have all the information you need to make confident decisions about your property.

Our Commitment to Excellence

At Komodo Home Inspection Services, we are committed to delivering excellence in every aspect of our work. From the moment you schedule your inspection to the final delivery of your report, we strive to provide a seamless and stress-free experience. Our goal is to provide you with a clear understanding of the condition of your property, so you can move forward with confidence.

We understand that every home is unique, and we tailor our inspections to meet the specific needs of each property. Whether you're purchasing a historic home in Baltimore, a modern condo in DC, or a suburban property in Virginia, you can trust Komodo Home Inspection Services to provide a thorough and accurate assessment.

Schedule Your Home Inspection Today

Whether you're buying, selling, or simply looking to understand the condition of your property, Komodo Home Inspection Services is here to help. As the leading Baltimore home inspector, Maryland home inspector, DC home inspector, and Virginia home inspector, we offer reliable and professional home inspections that you can trust.

Contact us today to schedule your inspection and take the first step toward ensuring the safety and soundness of your home. With Komodo Home Inspection Services, you can rest assured that your property is in the hands of the best home inspectors in the region.

[carlocksmitharbutus]

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[otiskeene]

Exelons $10 Million Investment Milestone Fuels Urban Growth And Local Opportunity

Exelon, a publicly traded company listed on Nasdaq under the ticker symbol EXC, has recently disclosed that it has made substantial investments amounting to nearly $10 million in nine locally-owned businesses within its service areas. These investments have been made through the Community Impact Capital Fund (CICF), an initiative launched in collaboration with the Exelon Foundation in 2022. The CICF, with a total fund size of $36 million, aims to provide enhanced access to capital for businesses operating in under-resourced communities located within Exelon's service regions.

Colette Honorable, who holds the position of Executive Vice President of Public Policy and Chief External Affairs Officer at Exelon, has emphasized the significance of these investments in bolstering the economic prospects of the regions served by the company. She has specifically highlighted the innovative nature of the nine businesses that have received funding thus far and has expressed a keen interest in partnering with additional businesses that have the potential to generate employment opportunities and reinvest in their local neighborhoods.

The nine businesses that have been selected to receive funding through the CICF encompass a diverse range of industries and locations. One such business is Sweeten, based in Baltimore, Maryland, which operates as a technology company revolutionizing the hiring process within the construction industry for both residential and commercial projects. Sweeten's platform facilitates the connection between vetted construction professionals and projects, with a particular focus on promoting minority and woman-owned businesses.

Another recipient of funding is Aging & Diverse Home Healthcare Services, situated in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. This company specializes in providing in-home healthcare services tailored to the needs of seniors and disabled individuals. As part of its expansion plans, Aging & Diverse Home Healthcare Services is now venturing into the realm of skilled nursing care.

Gemini Energy Solutions, based in Washington, D.C., is yet another business that has secured funding through the CICF. This company operates as a tech-enabled energy audit and asset development firm, with a primary focus on advancing clean energy solutions within underserved communities.

Overall, Exelon's investments through the CICF demonstrate its commitment to supporting local businesses in under-resourced communities, thereby fostering economic growth and development within its service regions.

Read More - https://www.techdogs.com/tech-news/business-wire/exelons-10-million-investment-milestone-fuels-urban-growth-and-local-opportunity

[professionalhealthcarephri]

Purpose of Personal Care in Washington D.C. and Baltimore, MD

Moving older people in the family to an assisted living facility not only robs them of their independence but can put them in emotional distress too. Adult children may not find enough time for their aging and ailing parents due to work pressure, but most find the services related to personal care in Washington D.C. and Baltimore, MD, to be superior and effective in ensuring their well-being. ​ Having a professional care provider to look after the personal needs of the elderly parent can be a Godsend for many adult children living far away from home. They are delighted when the care provider willingly takes on the following responsibilities:

· Ensures Independence- It is emotionally demeaning to be dependent on another person. Thankfully, the caregiver will support their endeavor for independence by helping the elderly patients overcome mobility challenges. They will be assisted closely when showering, dressing, and eating the meals at specific times. Medication will be provided according to the doctor’s advice, too. Moreover, most caregivers also remain at a distance when their ward strolls in the garden or expresses a wish to go grocery shopping. Helping them socialize is also a part of the care provider’s responsibilities

· Health Monitoring- While seriously ailing patients are advised to hire a professional nurse instead of a care provider the latter can note subtle changes in the patient and discuss the symptoms with the family doctor or the family members. Providing medication to the patients is usually a part of the care provider’s duties. Moreover, the concerned person will surely notice tell-tale signs of low appetite, increased difficulty with movement, lack of recognition, and failure to handle common everyday chores. Seeking the doctor’s appointment and having the patient examined at the earliest can help to thwart serious complications most of the time

· Home Safety- A senior citizen is likely to have compromised mobility coupled with failing health and impaired vision. It is essential to have the home senior-proofed to ensure the safety of the occupants. While the construction work may be ordered and commissioned by the patient's children from afar, it is the onus of the care provider to remove all tripping hazards, such as floor coverings and small items of furniture that may get in the way. Moreover, they will make sure to check the kitchen, bathroom, and other areas for risks and may turn off the unused electrical appliances as well as negate fire and other hazards as much as possible.

Both the personal caregiver and the home health aide in Baltimore, MD, and Washington D.C. will provide ample support to the elderly individuals in their care. This will help improve their quality of life and provide them with companionship courtesy of the helpful care aides. With peace of mind being restored, the patients are active in both physical and emotional well-being simultaneously! Medical professionals are pleased with the outcome as are the family members.

[asianartsblog]

Exhibition

Love Letters to Baltimore + the DMV

Friday, May 3-Saturday, June 1

16 W. North Ave. and Motor House

Gallery Hours:

16 W. North Ave: Friday - Saturday 5-8pm

Motor House: Tuesday - Saturday 4-10pm

APIMEDA (Asian, Pacific Islander, Middle Eastern and Desi American) artists based in Maryland, DC and Virginia creatively express their ideas of love and home, including the meaning of home, how they respond to the question, “Where are you from?” and more. Through research from AA&CC’s Greater Baltimore Asian Community History Project, this exhibit honors the Station North neighborhood's ongoing transformation from a historic Koreatown to a diverse arts district. Curated by Nerissa Paglinauan with Guest Co-curator Ryan Jafar Artes.

Exhibition

Forest Haven: Trisha Gupta Solo Exhibition

Friday, May 3 – Saturday, June 1

Gallery Hours:

Thursday & Friday, 4 – 8 p.m.

Saturday, 11:30 a.m. – 5 p.m.

Night Owl Gallery

What happens when the treatment is worse than the disease? Trisha Gupta’s solo exhibition at Night Owl Gallery is a collection of research, documentation, and classification of 3 years of study centering around Forest Haven Asylum in Laurel, Maryland. It has come to light that in the 1960s-70s, the staff there criminally abused, tortured and murdered over 387 patients that were then unceremoniously buried in unmarked graves on the campus.

Social Hour

Johns Hopkins Medicine API ERG + Allies Meet-up @ Asia North 2024

Tuesday, May 14, 6-7:15pm

16 W. North Avenue

FREE REGISTRATION: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/hopkins-api-erg-allies-meet-up-asia-north-2024-tickets-872965692887

Everyone is welcome to join this free Asia North 2024 Meet-Up co-hosted by Johns Hopkins Medicine Asian & Pacific Islander Employee Resource Group & Allies. Enjoy Asian food, view the Asia North 2024 exhibit, then head to Motor House to see more of the exhibit and attend a panel discussion with exhibit artists.

Panel Discussion

Love Letters to Baltimore + the DMV

Tuesday, May 14, 7:30-8:30pm

Motor House

Are you curious about the process behind Love Letters to Baltimore + the DMV? We are excited to share a glimpse into the inner-workings of our exhibition, which is an act of care and offering of love for our community, revolving around various understandings of “home.” Please join curators, Nerissa Paglinauan and Ryan Jafar Artes, and ten artists whose work is represented in Love Letters to Baltimore + the DMV for an informal yet insightful behind-the-scenes look into the art and exhibition. Participating artists include Adrianna Morgan, Anna Divinagracia, Gabriel Pilac Melendres, Jinyoung Koh, Kat Navarro, Nadia Nazar, Priyanka K, Rieko Chacey, Sushmita Mazumdar, and Yeeve 이재인 Rayne.

Performance

The Set List – Live Music Series ft. Shonay K., Silver City, and The Honest Thief

Thursday, May 16, 7:30-9:30 pm (doors at 7)

Motor House

Price: $10

Tickets: https://thesetlist.eventbrite.com/

Motor House celebrates the abundant musical creativity of Baltimore in this monthly music series called The SET LIST! Each month, enjoy the vibes and tunes of Baltimore's most vibrant musical acts that feature artists who are diverse in terms of style and genre. Come groove with us!

Artist Talk

Forest Haven: Trisha Gupta

Thursday, May 16, 6:30 p.m.

Night Owl Gallery

Walking Tour

Historic Koreatown & Landmarks with Baltimore Changwon Sister City Committee & Korean American Foundation – Greater Washington

Saturday, May 18, 2-4 pm

Meet at 16 W. North Ave.

Free Registration Required: https://historickoreatown2024.eventbrite.com

Join Joy Kim for a walking tour of the Charles North neighborhood’s historical Koreatown landmarks and favorite food spots. Learn stories behind dishes such as Korean BBQ, bibimbap, and rice cakes through a presentation by Joanna Chang. Win a gift card for a local Korean eatery and enjoy and assortment of complimentary snacks that are popular in Korea, such as Choco Pie, boba tea mochi, Kopiko candy, Cosomi, melon crackers, and instant coffee mix sticks. Presented with the Baltimore Changwon Sister City Committee and Korean American Foundation – Greater Washington

Location Info:

16 W. North Avenue

Motor House, 120 W North Ave.

Baltimore Improv Group, 1727 N Charles St.

Sidewalk in Front of the North Avenue Market (30 W. North Ave)

Night Owl Gallery, 1735 Maryland Avenue, Upstairs Unit A

Asia North 2024 partners and sponsors include TU Asian Arts & Culture Center, Central Baltimore Partnership, Station North Arts District, Motor House, Maryland State Arts Council, William G. Baker, Jr. Memorial Fund, Citizens of Baltimore County, TU-BTU Presidential Priority, Baltimore Changwon Sister City Committee, Korean American Foundation – Greater Washington, Barangay Baltimore, Baltimore Xiamen Sister City Committee, Baltimore Kawasaki Sister City Committee, NAAAP Baltimore, Baltimore Imrpov Group, Night Owl Gallery, Johns Hopkins Medicine Asian & Pacific Islander Employee Resource Group & Allies, and Critical Responses to Anti-Asian Violence (CRAAV).

[evanvanness]

The Wire is the most right-wing show ever aired?

I've just finished re-watching The Wire. When I was watching it, I remember there were some random semi-annoying preachy political bits.

Creator David Simon is a left-winger, for sure. Without checking, I'd guess that he's the type who may not feel the Democratic party is nearly left-wing enough. Here's wiki:

So maybe I was right? Inconclusive, but seems like I was likely correct.

So how can it possibly be a right-wing show?

That sounds crazy.

But I can't think of a single other show that routinely depicts individuals as heroes (if flawed) that just get ground down by the government system. The whole show is about how politicians and bureaucrats in Baltimore have created a failed state that fails its citizens in every way.

Now if you were to ask Simon that, he'd blame Republicans for the War on Drugs*. In fact, in the series he explicitly does that when Major Bunny Colvin creates a zone ("Hamsterdam") where the drug trade is legal. He finds a few blocks where it's mostly vacant houses and legalizes the drug trade there. Crime goes down and law-abiding citizens get their corners back, although Hamsterdam is a total mess.

But the experiment ends because the "evil Republicans" in DC shut it down. The mayor is already queasy, so when they get told that the (implied to be George W Bush) administration will block as much funding to the city as possible, Hamsterdam is dead and Bunny Colvin's distinguished police career is over.

Yet if there's a singular Republican argument in my lifetime (at least, pre-Trump, ahem) I'd argue it's the idea that we should lower federal tax rates and end the system where bureaucrats and politicians in DC direct money at their whim.

In fact that's what the American Republican was supposed to be: 50 sovereign states with a limited federal government that only did the minimum necessary.

50 laboratories of public policy instead of a one-size-fits-all out of a windowless office building in Washington, DC.

That's why I'd argue it's a right-wing show in a nutshell. It's full of petty partisan shots particular to the GWB presidential era. Many of them ring true, but the whole show is about government dysfunction. Hardly a ringing argument for more government.

---

But perhaps the most poignant character is Bubbles. A dope fiend from the start of the show who becomes a police informer. He makes lots of cases for the police. Many of the things they need to know come from him.

The police let him down over and over again. It's sad, but Simon really drives it home in nearly every season, to the point that Bubbles eventually gets so sick of it and misinforms so that the police arrest a politically-connected black minister. .

The only institutions which care about him are private institutions like Alcoholics Anonymous and individuals. In a heartwarming end, he gets invited out of the basement for a meal at his sister's. Despite the fact that he had stripped all of the copper out of her house and sold it a few years before.

---

Earlier I pointed out how even the heroes are incredibly flawed, showing fundamental right-wing belief that the nature of man is imperfect and thus utopia is impossible.

You root for the heroes. Detective Mcnulty cares so much about solving murders that it destroys his personal life, over and over. Same with Bunk. And Giggs. Cedric is great, possibly the only member of police leadership that seems remotely ethical. When he makes it to the top, he's instantly decapitated from what are made to seem relatively minor sins of the past.

But even outside of a broken system making it hard for the heroes, I can't imagine watching The Wire and thinking utopia is feasible, or that we'd just solve Baltimore's problems by raising taxes and spending more.

-* Yet no one ever talks about the fact that fetanyl is magnitudes (100x? 1000x?) more lethal than heroin. Perhaps the correct decision is a more rational policy on things like marijuana and a true war on things that end lives and destroy cognition even if you don't die.

[sepdet]

31 years ago today— Thanks for reminding me!

note: even getting "bi" in the name of that march took a lot of negotiation, but we were there, standing on the steps of the Capitol and marching around the White House (no barriers in those days) chanting "We're here, we're queer, and we're not going away. " The Quilt covered the Washington Mall.

We signed our names, addresses, and phone numbers on the march's official sign-in forms proving we were there, over a million of us, at a time when many of us could've been arrested in our home states and most could legally have been fired, denied custody of our kids, denied medical care or housing for being gay.

(The NPS "estimated" there were only 500K via aerial survey, undercounting as they always did, which is why the march organizers had asked us to take the risk of signing receipts. The team member who boarded our bus with a clipboard and walkie talkie when we arrived said they were already over a million, and that was just of participants willing to sign in.)

The platform/manifesto of the march is here:

(Comically, my girlfriend had to cover for me when my grandparents drove up to my college from Baltimore for a surprise visit.  They didn't know about me or her— too risky.)

“National March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay, and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation in front of the White House at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW, Washington DC on Sunday afternoon, 25 April 1993 by Elvert Barnes Photography” (source)

[zahnya]

Chapter 13 field work

For this task I had the pleasure of interviewing a family friend. We shall refer to him as "Chris" because I pledged to keep his identity a secret. Chris was raised in American culture despite the fact that he was actually born in the Dominican Republic and immigrated to the country at the age of 1. He had the same privileges as an American because he had his green card and was a legal resident.He was fluent in English because he went to school in the USA from kindergarten through high school. It was challenging for him to adjust to two distinct cultures because he was raised in a home where both of his parents spoke only Spanish and he was also exposed to English in school. In contrast to some children who immigrate to the United States and must enroll in ESL lessons in order to learn English, he was bilingual. It was created when he was still quite young.He resided in Washington, DC, until the sixth grade, at which point he relocated to Baltimore, Maryland, to continue his education and way of life. Chris' story is a bit different from others; he was deported from the United States due to criminal activity even though he was a legal resident. He was selling drugs as a faster way of income in order to provide and take care of his family. So with that being said when Chris was arrested he wasn’t given the opportunity to go to a halfway house or drug court like an American citizen would be able to if they caught a drug charge. He did not qualify for that due to being an immigrant so he had to serve 3 years inside of a prison locked behind a cement wall.After serving his three years, he was required to serve additional time in immigration, which took six months of his efforts to fight to remain in the country; nevertheless, because of the severity of his charges, he was not allowed the chance to remain in the United States. He was informed that he would receive American citizenship after 15 years of being deported. In addition, he said that after spending seven years in the Dominican Republic, he would prefer to travel through Mexico than wait 15 years. Chris then snuck back into the country after saying that. He flew from the Dominican Republic to Columbia and then drove across Columbia to reach Mexico. He also mentioned that he had contacts in Mexico who had him go by car and spend the nights in several hotels along the way to Mexico in order to avoid being discovered and sent back to his country of origin. Due to the fact that Mexico and the United States share a border, he had to travel from the southern to the northern section of Mexico. Chris had two sons while residing in the country. He used to only get to spend time with his sons once every other summer, and occasionally he would miss the opportunity entirely. Similarly, because he was deported as an immigrant, he hardly ever saw his nuclear family. He missed his family structure from his native country. Although he established his own family in the Dominican Republic and now has a daughter and a wife, his children were never raised together. When you are deported, such moments are taken away from you and removed from your life. He claimed that whenever he thought back to his former life in the United States, he used to cry.Due to changes in his living situation, Chris experienced culture shock. It was difficult for him to communicate because he didn't speak Spanish well, and it was particularly obvious when he spoke to individuals who did. As he previously stated, he emigrated when he was just a year old and had no idea how to make a income in a new nation. Each person had their own flair, including how they dressed. The transition from seasonal weather such as 40 degrees in winter and 80 degrees in summer to 90 degrees all year round was quite challenging because of the weather change.The Dominican Republic's minimum wage is $6 per hour, but in United States the average minimum wage is $14. Without a college degree, finding a workplace and employment chances is challenging. Chris was employed as a translator by AAA, a firm based in the United States,

[themedicalstate]

Nothing Could Make Her Body Stop Itching. Would It Ever End?

It felt like the itch was coming from somehow under her skin. The cause ended up being even deeper.

It was dark by the time the 41-year-old woman was able to start the long drive from her father’s apartment in Washington, D.C., to her home in Westchester County, N.Y. She was eager to get back to her husband and three children. Somewhere after she crossed the border into Maryland, the woman suddenly developed a terrible itch all over her body. She’d been a little itchy for the past couple of weeks but attributed that to dry skin from her now-faded summertime tan. This seemed very different: much stronger, much deeper. And absolutely everywhere, all at the same time.

The sensation was so intense it was hard for the woman to pay attention to the road. She found herself driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other working to respond to her skin’s new need. There was no rash — or at least nothing she could feel — just the terrible itch, so deep inside her skin that she felt as if she couldn’t scratch hard enough to really get to it. By the light of the Baltimore Harbor Tunnel she saw that her nails and fingers were dark with blood. That scared her, and she tried to stop scratching, but she couldn’t. It felt as if a million ants were crawling all over her body. Not on her skin, but somehow under it.

The woman had gone to Washington to help her elderly father move. His place was a mess. Many of his belongings hadn’t been touched in years. She figured that she was having a reaction to all the dust and dirt and who knows what else she encountered while cleaning. As soon as she got home, she took a long shower; the cool water soothed her excoriated skin. She lathered herself with moisturizer and sank gratefully into her bed. But the reprieve didn’t last, and from that night on she was tormented by an itch that no scratching could satisfy.

A Year of Unrelenting Agony

After two weeks, she went to an urgent-care center. There didn’t seem to be a rash or bites, the doctor told her, but her skin was so red and scratched up that he might not be able to see if there was an allergic reaction or bites from bedbugs or fleas beneath it all. He started her on a two-week course of prednisone; that should calm your itch, he told her, no matter the cause. She took it faithfully. It didn’t help.

She cleaned every inch of her house and hired an exterminator to search for bedbugs. She took her dog and two cats to the vet to have them treated for fleas. She bought new mattresses. None of it helped.

She saw a dermatologist, who thought it was eczema and recommended a moisturizer. Useless. She went to her internist, who wondered if this could be a symptom of a disease beyond her skin. He asked her if she had noticed any other symptoms. No, she felt fine — except for this itch. He ordered some blood tests, but the only abnormality found, he told her when he called with the results, was a mild iron-deficiency anemia. That can cause pruritus — the medical term for itch — though not usually this severe. She was prescribed an iron supplement and waited for a relief that never came.

An allergist found a reaction to dust mites and a chemical preservative used in some cosmetics and cleaning products called methylisothiazolinone (MIT). The patient bought an air purifier, put allergy covers on her (new) mattresses and pillows and searched labels for any MIT-containing products and replaced them. She took antihistamines. The itch continued.

A second dermatologist took biopsies from the skin on her thigh and arm. They were unrevealing. He started her on a steroid cream to treat what he thought might be eczema. It had no effect. When a third dermatologist, recommended by a close friend, also suggested that she had eczema, the patient burst into tears. She’d been suffering for over a year. Was she going to feel like this for the rest of her life? That doctor prescribed gabapentin, which can be used to treat pain and itching caused by injured nerves. The drug helped — she was able to get to sleep at night, when the itch was its worst. And it helped a little during the day. But even so, she was still horribly itchy.

A New Round of Questions

The patient’s husband started doing some research of his own. He found a couple of specialists he thought might help. One was in London, but another, Dr. Melissa Iammatteo, a specialist in allergy and immunology, was quite close. By the time he made this discovery, though, Covid-19 was rampaging through Westchester. His wife scheduled an appointment for the early summer, crossing her fingers that by then it would be safe for her to see the doctor.

It was a bright, cool day when the woman finally met Iammatteo. On exam, the patient’s arms and legs were covered with blotches of inflamed red skin, shiny in places and covered with marks from scratching. The patient repeated the story she’d already told a half dozen times: She felt fine except for this terrible itch that drove her nuts.

Iammatteo pressed: Did she really feel fine? Like the patient’s internist the year before, she was worried about problems that went beyond the skin. Iammatteo asked her specific questions, which helped the patient realize that she did not actually feel healthy. Yes, the patient acknowledged, she was tired. Yes, she had recently lost a little weight. And, come to think of it, yes, she did sometimes feel feverish, though, no, she didn’t have night sweats.

When dealing with patients who have already had an extensive work-up and seen many providers, it’s important to focus on the less likely causes of a symptom. Iammatteo forced herself to think broadly through all the different types of diseases that can cause itching. Diseases of the kidneys and liver are common causes of pruritus — but repeated testing was normal. Infection with parasites or viruses can cause itching; she would order tests for some of the more common of these, including toxocara, a type of parasite carried by cats and dogs, and for H.I.V. It was also important to check for cancer: Nearly 10 percent of patients with persistent unexplained pruritus are found to have cancer. She would order a chest X-ray to look for enlarged lymph nodes. And she would refer the patient to a cancer specialist just in case she’d missed anything.

She reviewed the plan with the patient, who needed to go to the lab and the radiology department before she left the building. Iammatteo would call her with the results, she said; it would probably take a few days.

A Flurry of Tests, Scans and Biopsies

The patient hadn’t been home for long when Iammatteo called. She had some results. It wasn’t an answer, but a clue. The X-ray revealed a mass the size of a softball in her chest. Iammatteo wasn’t sure exactly what it was but had sent the image to the cancer specialist. And she had moved up the patient’s appointment with the specialist to that week. Iammatteo was sure he would be able to tell them exactly what was going on.

The next few days were a flurry of blood tests, scans and biopsies. Although this was scary, the patient was eager to finally have an answer — even if it meant she had cancer. And that is what it meant. She had Hodgkin lymphoma, an unusual cancer of a type of white blood cell known as lymphocytes. This cancer usually starts in the chest or neck and spreads through the lymph nodes. H.L. is often diagnosed when patients develop enlarged lymph nodes in the neck or under the arms. This patient never had that. Up to 30 percent of patients with H.L. report having pruritus for months or occasionally years before a diagnosis is made. Why this occurs is not well understood.

Treatment for this disease can be tough, but the prognosis is good. The patient would need months of chemotherapy. She was eager to start. “I would have done anything to get rid of this itch,” she told me. The itch subsided significantly after the first round of chemo. After six weeks it was gone completely. And it hasn’t come back.

As the patient neared the end of her treatment, she tracked down Iammatteo, who now only sees patients with severe drug allergies, to thank her for helping to beat that all-consuming itch.

by Lisa Sanders, M.D. (The New York Times).

[midnightfunk]

Natasha DeckerTue, June 29, 2021, 11:36 AM·3 min read

Source: The Washington Post / Getty

76-year-old Gwen Levi was sent back to jail and will return to prison after she not answering her phone when authorities contacted her on June 12, because she was sitting in a computer word processing class.

Levi, along with the 4,500 others, was released from prison to home confinement due to safety concerns surrounding the COVID-19 pandemic. Complex reported that “Some thought Joe Biden would extend the policy but it seems the White House may be looking to send almost all those inmates back to prison once the public health emergency is over, which is in line with a Justice Department memo from the Trump administration.”

According to the Washington Post reports that prior to June 12, Levi was living with and taking care of her 94-year-old mother in Baltimore. She “volunteered at prisoner advocacy organizations, [was] hoping for a paying job to come along, [and] was also building her relationships with her sons and grandsons.”

Levi served 16 of the 24 years she was sentenced to in different prisons across the country. In June 2020, she was allowed finish her sentence in home confinement underneath “the supervision of federal prison officials.”

An incident report from June 2021 said federal authorities were unable to reach Levi for a few hours on June 12. During that time, the 76-year old grandmother was attending a class in Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. Because she missed the calls, she was reincarcerated.

“According to Levi’s Bureau of Prisons incident report, the officials supervising her were alerted by her ankle monitor at 10:51 a.m. that she was not home. She did not answer calls to her phone for the next few hours. By 1:17 p.m., the ankle monitor showed she was back at her approved address. The report noted the incident as an ‘escape,” WaPo reported.

Her lawyer, Sapna Mirchandani, shared that Levi is currently in a D.C. jail waiting to be transferred to federal prison.

“There’s no question she was in class,” the attorney said of her client’s whereabouts on June 12. “As I was told, because she [Levi] could have been robbing a bank, they’re going to treat her as if she was robbing a bank.”

Levi shared a statement through her attorney, “I feel like I was attempting to do all the right things.” she said.

“Breaking rules is not who I am,” she additionally expressed. “I tried to explain what happened, and to tell the truth. At no time did I think I wasn’t supposed to go to that class. I apologize to my mother and my family for what this is doing to them.” Levi shared that she feels “devastated.”