#i need to do immune therapy every three weeks

[aria-ashryver]

caesar keel over yet?

ik you sent this a couple weeks ago, but i thought it was funnier if i answered it today

IDES OF MARCH FINAL STATS!!

Diagnosis: Aggressive HER2+ ductal carcinoma, weakly estrogen positive, metastasized, technically incurable Name of Tumor: Caesar Classification: little bitch

108 IV lines / blood tests / self-administered injections

19 Eggs harvested

9 Embryos frozen

8 Supplementary medications

5 Ultrasounds

4 Computed Tomography (CT) scans

3 Mammograms

3 Chemo regime changes

2 Core biopsies

1 Positron Emission Tomography (PET-CT) scan

1 Bone Scintigraphy

1 Multigated Aquisition (MUGA) scan

1 Echocardiogram

1 Electrocardiogram (ECG)

1 round of genetic testing

1 "this is the biggest tumour I have seen in my recent years as an oncologist"

1 reclassification from Stage 2 to Stage 4

1 "this is one of the best responses to chemotherapy I have ever seen"

(and GOD KNOWS how many litres of Paclitaxel, Pertuzumab, and Trastuzumab pumping through my veins...)

We can safely call it. At my last clinic, my oncologist told me he was happy with that my last few scans had remained stable, and that I wouldn't require any surgery or radiation therapy.

Folks. I did it.

CAESAR'S ASS IS DEAD YALL I BEAT CANCER HAPPY IDES OF MARCH 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

[lovelaceisntdead]

Going to see Scream VI next week :)

[remidyal]

fantasy high au where kristen was bitten by a werewolf in the same attack that infected tracker

Oooh, interesting!

So, before going into AU territory, a quick little review of what canon/quasi-canon information we have here:

Tracker was thrown out of the house somewhere around the age of 12-13 in what is kind of implied to be the aftermath of the werewolf attack but COULD be read as her realizing she's a lesbian; the dialogue is a little open to interpretation - from her first episode at the black pit:

Tracker: That's the exact question I asked that made my parents throw me out.

Kristen: What?

Tracker: I asked, something really terrible happened to me, and, at least I thought it was terrible at the time, but it ended up being like one of the best things that ever happened to me, and I asked my parents why Sol would let that happen, and they kicked me out of the house.

(Also, everything about Tracker early on is realistically in flux - she introduces herself as a cleric of Lida, not Galicaea in season 1, and pretty clearly the relationship to Jawbone was tacked on when he became unexpectedly important and Brennan wanted to hook Tracker back in to meet Kristen again.)

She has lived with Jawbone, who she at least shares a last name with and calls uncle, for some amount of time but has dropped out of school and considers herself to have been a wild child for at least five years. My read of this is that she was literally homeless for some time, or was in and out of staying with her drug-dealing uncle.

It is not at all clear whether Jawbone bit Tracker or if they are just from a region where werewolf attacks are common enough that two separate members of the family were bitten and it's not like incredibly weird; we know that Jawbone was a werewolf while he was in high school and in fact in spite of his crazy stories we've never heard anything about when HE was bitten which has always made me kind of wonder if he might have been born a werewolf.

So, for this AU to sum all this up, I'm going to go with an interpretation where a) Tracker was bitten around when she was 13 and Kristen would have been about 12 and b) Jawbone wasn't the one to do it.

SO FINALLY TO ANSWER THE QUESTION:

Tracker and Kristen are bitten towards the end of a summer camp that takes campers who follow both Sol and Helio after having been loosely friends but not THAT close. A werewolf attacks a group of campers on a 'take back the night for the sun' sort of hike on the last week; Tracker and Kristen get bitten because they step forward to try to defend all the others. They're immediately isolated until their parents can come to get them after the attack, and after the two or three days it takes for that to happen they exchange addresses and promise to keep in touch and stay friends and everything.

Tracker still gets kicked out shortly after this, asking her parents why Sol didn't protect her from the werewolf. She sends a couple of letters before this, but then the contact dries up; Kristen tries every so often for a while to send another but eventually gives up after they're all returned to sender.

Kristen, meanwhile, sooooort of does better but not really. She retains her connection to Helio, and her parents as higher level paladins are actually immune to contracting lycanthropy so she can at least be guarded by them during the full moon, but her inability to use cleric spells while a werewolf is seen as the ultimate sign that that side is something to be ashamed of, that the curse is a failure on her part and something unworthy that she needs to repress as much as possible. If this is sounding a little bit like conversion therapy, well...

Kristen still ends up going to Aguefort, but not just because of wanting to spread word to the uncultured crazed adventurers of Helio - none of the Helioic schools would take a werewolf. Much of freshman year plays out at least similarly to canon, up until she and Tracker run into each other at the Black Pit. They're in the middle of recognizing each other and resparking this connection years later when BOTH of them get turned by DJ Brainz, making the fight MUCH harder for the Bad Kids, who end up carrying an unconscious Kristen out afterwards to Seacaster Manor.

Kristen and Tracker, now knowing each other are in town, manage to reunite at last, and the fic would probably actually climax on a scene of Tracker guiding Kristen through letting herself be a wolf outside of the full moon for the very first time, reveling in the freedom she's been suppressing for all this time. She actually gets kicked out in this AU after this as well, instead of choosing to leave as per canon.

[androcola]

what were the stages of mike’s ED? like how did it get triggered but also HOW and WHEN did the other monkees notice his eating wasn’t normal/they got concerned about it and then what was recovery like? also was he diagnosed with any particular EDS?

stuff under the cut

mike developed his eating disorder very young and it was, surprise surprise, because of his dad.

when mike was young, but working age, he had trouble keeping down jobs for longer than maybe a month or two, due to his autism and ptsd an anxiety, so he kinda got fired from every job he'd get, and eventually his father got very fed up with it

he told mike that from now on, any food that was brought into the home not with his money, he wasn't allowed to eat. there wasn't always much food anyway and he was already hungry all the time, but now he wasn't allowed to have what he could get. if he was caught eating something, he would be punished harshly, which over time led him to develop a fear of food because he feared what would happen to him if he ate anything.

his father would also constantly berate him, calling him lazy, ungrateful, incapable, undeserving, etc etc, which over time, he internalized all of it. he was already pretty self loathing so that just was kinda the straw that broke the camels back.

he developed an eating disorder in his teens which quickly became pretty aggressive. he'd starve himself for days, even weeks if was capable of it. anytime he'd eat something, he'd be overcome with extreme amounts of guilt and fear over it, worried that his father might find out and also guilt that he didn't earn what he just ate.

sometimes the guilt and fear would be enough to make him feel sick, causing him to throw up whatever he ate.

he spent most of his time instead just drinking and smoking, that provided a little bit of relief. he quickly became very sick, though, losing a large amount of weight and becoming very weak and unable to do much.

he eventually developed a habit of purging due to just the sheer guilt he'd feel from the very act of eating anything at all. if the guilt alone wasn't enough to turn his stomach, he'd do it himself. he figured that if he just threw it up, it wouldn't really count and he'd have nothing to be guilty over, right? the guilt wouldn't stop until it was done.

this went on for a long long time, eventually even into his monkee years. he tried his best to keep it dark, though. it very unfortunately is the reason why he eventually lost three of his teeth. one in 1966, one in 1968, and one in 1970.

i think when Micky met mike and got to know him, he realized right away that mike had a pretty weird way about food. he just kinda figured that maybe he was just taking a while to get used to eating again after starvation from homelessness. but this weirdness about food lasted a long time, though.

mike tried his best to hide his habits and I think he held it together for a good while. the guys always knew he had weird eating habits and also just rarely ever ate, but they figured maybe he just didn't need much, they had no idea the relationship he had with food.

i think it was only really brought to light when peter accidentally walked in on mike in the bathroom Disposing of his food. Mike told him sternly that it Wasn't what it looked like, and not to say a word and that he didn't see a thing.

peter was confused but very concerned. Why does mike Always use the bathroom after dinner? when he does join them for dinner, that is.

of course. he told anyway, he spoke to davy and I think eventually the ball got rolling.by this time, mike was already in therapy for his other problems, but this was a whole other beast to confront him about. of course he protested very loudly when the guys brought up their concerns.

why has he stayed so thin for so long? why does he always seem so weak and just generally unwell all the time?

why was his immune system so incredibly weak that he'd be sick all the time? and when he'd get sick, it would be bad. a simple cold would wipe him out for a week.

he didn't believe in that stuff for himself anyway. he thought eating disorders were a womans thing. shows where he's at.

eventually, after lots and lots of fighting over it, I think he eventually began to face it. even though he had done it for so long it was just Natural to him.

his weight had always been a matter of discourse in the pad. he kept a consistently emaciated figure which was at times not easy to look at. it disturbed them all very much but any gripes or even kind concerns would get them shut down and gaslighted over it.

his hair was thin, he could never get warm and often would be shaking despite the heat being on in the pad. he always would keep the thermostat up very high, boiling the others just to feel some warmth for himself. he was always just very fatigued, which he'd blame on his other mental issues which do cause him fatigue.

some days he'd be very very weak and not able to move around much. they were all so used to him being that way that even though it wasn't normal, it was their normal.

mike eventually did begin recovery efforts after finally managing to face it. I don't think he ever got a real diagnosis, but his therapist made it very clear that this Had to go. it was slowly but surely killing him.

recovery was extremely hard and he relapsed over and over and over. it took so long for him to get out of the mindset of Needing to deserve his meals, needing to earn them. It was especially triggered by Failing. to most, failing just hurts, but for mike, failing could literally kill him. he had to try hard to rewire his mind. he was doing it mostly for his friends.

I think eventually when his nieces came along in 1971, he became far more dedicated to his recovery, as he wanted to see them grow up and honestly with the way he was going, that eating disorder was Gonna Kill Him. by the mid 70s he was doing great. he had gained a bunch of weight and had managed to work himself out of that mental hole he had been forced into for so very long.

over time he slowly regains his health, gets much more energy and strength and over all just starts feeling a lot better. although there isn't an Exact Day to his recovery, he always has a meal for the anniversary of the approximate day :) probably the first time he ate and felt no guilt over it. over all it was a tough process for everyone. a lot of fights and a lot of tears.

unfortunately, however, as a result of the constant starvation he faced throughout his life and the eating disorder on top, he sustained permanent damage. chronic stomach problems and digestion issues, weaker bones, a bad immune system ,and some heart issues that would become more apparent in his older years. he has a hard time eating larger portions for a very long time without it causing bad stomach pain and other problems. it also was probably a factor in his heart attack which would come later in the mid 90s. his heart really was very weakened by it all.

[bonellzz]

My first blog : a bit of history of a big challenge I was presented 18 months ago to define who I am today : Christopher J Bonelli 2.0

I came down with a very serious case of COVID-19 Delta Variant. I was placed in a medically induced coma for 55 days FROM July – Sept 2021, in the ICU. I had to be intubated and put on a ventilator, and eventually they had to do a tracheotomy, because they couldn't extubate me otherwise. While there they did a number of surgeries on me, on top of the tracheotomy, included a feeding tube, three chest tubes and multiple central lines.

On the 55th day I woke up with tubes coming out of all parts of my body. I was there for another week and a half, after being released from the ICU. When I was discharged, couldn’t walk or talk, and quickly realized the enormous feat I would have in front of me in order to recover. I had to learn how to walk, talk, eat, breath, and perform daily activities of living, all over again. I’m still on the big oxygen machine and my lung capacity is on 53% , doctors say I should make a recovery between 16-24 months. It currently has been 15 months since being discharged.

I’ve been a loyal tenant for three years now and this is the first time I am late on rent due to a financial hardship from getting sick and having over a year of rehabilitation? This complex has tried to evict due to a few weeks late on rent smh . Why Should I need to be penalized, the government did not help with ANY COVID RELIEF PROGRAMS …the state of FLORIDA did not find me temporary disabled granting me with SSDI although I met all the criteria. ERAP and SNAP declined me probably because my taxes showed I was making more than the threshold but what was I supposed to the in the following months with a 14 month no work order should help because I was making 6 figures and I will again when im fully healthy.

The leasing office knew everything that was going on and put me into another apartment 1406 at the same address 405 ne 2nd st apt 1406 fort Lauderdale fl 33301. There was no exchange a move in fee they handed me a key and I signed a lease. During the move I passed out twice and had to be hospitalized again because my lungs arent capable of that much endurance yet. So I have received an eviction notice and 3day notice to vacate on my door. I’m trying to keep a positive mindset that I will get better soon but I was the only survivor with delta variant from imperial hospital and have not received any funding from government. Im at the point where I need assistance from the government . I really need help.

Having a fiancé cheat on me during my recovery , losing my finances , job , relearning to become a human again of course I’m going to deal with mental issues that I have been overcoming through therapy

Im constantly getting my organs checked and my immune system is at the lowest. I lost everything in a snap of a figure but instead of sitting there an sulking I’ve been pushing myself to be strong and get passed this I went in the hospital at 195lbs came out at 120, I’m finally putting the weight back on, but there seems to be an obstacle in my way every time. I have major PTSD, Major Depression and anxiety disorder all diagnosed by a psychiatrist as well as permanent fibrosis in both my lungs. I went into AFIB 3 times as well. I’m only 32 and it’s a mission for me to bend over and put the dishes away or to walk just one block, I was a bodybuilder before my life was turned upside down.

It’s been 17 months and I have made a 90% recovery I believe it’s time Now its time for me to get back on my feet and others in need of my support and share my story to help overcome obstacles such as mine.

#covid19 #covidawareness #longcovid #covid #coviddelta #coma #survivor #covidreovery #recovery #covidisnotover #covidhelp #covidrelief #coronavirus #covid #corona #stayhome #quarantine #lockdown #staysafe #love #pandemic #share #shareyourstory

[queenklu]

Okay, so. I was going to let this go but I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about it and I need sleep.

THE FOUNDER, who was yes absolutely bonkers, thought that cracking bones cured cancer, and also that it cured blindness, and that he figured out how to do it from a ghost, etc etc. Guy was crazycakes. That is established.

HOWEVER. Since then there has been a major shift to legitimate medicine and physical therapy among the majority of practicing chiropractors.

There are still nutjobs out there. Quackwatch, an alternative medicine watchdog, cautions against seeing chiropractors who:

Treat young children

Discourage immunization

Pretend to be a family doctor

Take full spine X-rays

Promote unproven dietary supplements

Are antagonistic to scientific medicine

Claim to treat non-musculoskeletal problems

Do not accept health insurance

What happened to @thebibliosphere sucks, no question. As someone who sees a chiropractor fairly regularly for the crime of being Tall in a world built for Not Tall, I have never, ever been made to sign any risk waiver for an adjustment. Ever.

I've seen three different chiropractors over my life, starting as a late teen when my hips started befuckening. Everyone in my family has seen chiropractors on and off. My grandma was able to stay in her house and mobile until she was 91 years old, and credits it largely to her chiropractor who kept her back from seizing up. I have been in two car accidents where I was rear-ended--one of them, ironically enough, when I was en route to a chiropractic appt. Both times, despite the crash not being 'major,' X-rays of my neck showed there was a noticeable skew from whiplash. In both cases, the other party's car insurance paid for my chiropractic care--in one case I needed over six months of treatment before my neck and back were no longer stiff or hurting.

I have no way of telling whether @thebibliosphere saw a legit chiropractor or a quack. Even the best doctors in the world fuck up sometimes, and even the shittiest get it right sometimes. Medical malpractice is defined as when a doctor "through a negligent act or omission causes an injury to the patient." For whatever its worth, @thebibliosphere would have every right to seek legal advice regardless of the papers they signed.

As for one more story in support of good chiropractors:

In middle school, my dad--whose self-owned business involved moving heavy appliances by himself--did something to fuck up his back, bad enough that it left him literally bedridden. My mom had to drive him to the doctor because he was in too much pain to see. The doctor said he would need immediate back surgery, which would permanently weaken his back and lead to eventually more surgeries, and this would ultimately end his business on the spot. The doctor told him this was the only solution. My dad went to the chiropractor. The chiropractor saw him twice a week for adjustments, and my dad was back on his feet in three weeks. He continued his business for 20 more years, is now nearly 70, and has never needed back surgery.

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

(for both book and medical considerations, tw for discussion of substance issues. Also heavy medical talk because I'm Worried.)

Head in my hands.

I had a feeling a book about substance abuse would have it, but I went Most of the way through the book without seeing it, so I started to hope that Maybe It Wouldn't Trigger My Phobia, Actually.

And then it went and triggered it really badly twice in rapid succession until I was sitting in my chair trembling with my heart pounding and I had to close the book and walk in the hall for ten minutes and then sit in the bathroom for another 20 and get Very close to crying.

Part of the problem is that since, like, last Monday (ten days???) I've been enduring Stomach-Induced Hell. It's getting worryingly long actually, the longest it usually lasts when my stomach flares up is 5 days. It's been ten.

Desperately hoping I don't have to up the reglan again because I'm already having a hard time convincing my doctor to keep renewing it. /:{ It's the only medication in the world that has ever helped me. And the next step up is the Highest Dose Possible. And THAT dose is only recommended for 6 weeks or less. If I get immune to THAT dose, there's no helping me.

Ironically, considering the book I'm reading, I'm worried it might be withdrawal from a med I was taking a MINIMAL DOSE OF for like three fucking weeks. Lowest dose, usually given thrice a day but I only ever took it before bed. And yet, when I ran out and my doctor didn't give me any refills, suddenly I had insomnia and massive amounts of nausea and damn-near daily v* and for the first three or four days I was also Very Irritable and had no patience.

I don't know if chemical dependence can even FORM with three weeks of 5mg of cyclobenzaprine once a day (with the VERY occasional dose of 10mg instead)? And I asked my doctor Over and Over Again if it was habit-forming and she said the risk was really low? But the reason I asked her was because I know my family (both sides) has a long and winding history of substance abuse. So I tried to be careful. I tried to only take it when I needed it. I noticed it helped me sleep, but mostly because it helped my back pain and I could actually Get Comfortable laying on my side (I can't sleep laying on my back, which is the ONLY position I don't feel constant searing pain in).

For the most part, I limited myself to only taking it on days it's the Worst (after a lot of shopping or something), 2-3 times a week, only up to 3 days in a row. 3 days on, 4 days off. That sort of thing.

And then I bent over to pet the cat and my back spasmed Really Badly for three days. I'll admit I doubled up on the dose a couple of nights, but? Mostly took the minimum. It got a bit better after a week. Then my back spasmed AGAIN when I was drying my legs after a shower.

So yeah. I took it every day. It was AGONIZING. It doesn't go away for DAYS and even the meds just took the edge off, made it bearable with deep breathing and constantly gritting my teeth and moving at a snail's pace. I still had to strictly restrict my motion, walk with my hands holding my hips still, do hip/sacrum stretches three times a day so it wouldn't lock up.

My back's feeling okay enough now that I can start doing my physical therapy exercises again (which I have been.... largely neglecting to do and that may be a HUGE factor in the recent spasms). Even standing up to dance for four songs at the Starset demonstration only left me in sore aching pain for two days, with no spasming. But that was still like three weeks solid of taking it.

I'm not looking for advice here. I know how withdrawal works (even if, theoretically, I shouldn't have been able to become dependent on this thing at a super low dose after less than a fucking month). But, again, long family history of These Issues. My body either doesn't respond to meds at all or has a really heightened response to it. So who the fuck knows.

Anyways, the point is, whether it's worsening gastritis / gastroparesis or withdrawal-related, I've been ridiculously sick with my stomach lately. Ginger and peppermints only help for 20ish minutes at a time, and the moment they wear off it comes back with a vengeance.

(It's not food poisoning, because the nausea/v* is literally the only symptom, it's mostly just v* once a day [though yesterday it was thrice], and it's not pathogenic probably, because I don't have a fever. At all. My body temperature even read LOWER a couple times. It wasn't even 97 degrees the one time.)

((And before anyone asks, there's literally no physical possibility that I'm pregnant. I've never been near the Necessary Equipment for that, so unless I'm carrying the second coming of Christ, it's not related to pregnancy.))

Other considerations include the fact that I keep forgetting to take my morning dose of reglan when I wake up to go pee on weekends (which I know is a Problem because it feels better on weekends when I actually remember to do that), dehydration is probably a concern at this point which might be making the nausea worse, and ???I have an IUD? Can those give you pseudo-morning sickness???

I don't fucking know. All I know is that I'm afraid and frustrated and worrying I'm Getting Worse Again because this was juuuuust about how it started in 2017 before I got so bad I was hospitalized. (At least the reglan is keeping it so I can MOSTLY hold down food and water, I just have to be REALLY careful about What Kinds and How Much.)

I also don't have the PTO to go to the doctor right now. :/// And my gastro specialist probably won't have appointments until fucking DECEMBER.

So, there's Stress. I've been triggered by my own body a Lot lately.

And then today, when I had to sit away from my desk because they were cleaning the carpets, I read a scene that got me Really Invested (meeting one's favorite musicians!) and it suddenly turned Very Very Bad for someone with emet*phobia. It was described very vividly. And at length. And over and over again. Which is the WORST way to trigger me. (On top of secondhand humiliation. I don't usually get secondhand embarrassment, but v* will do it. There's a deeply-rooted social anxiety aspect to my experience of the phobia.)

And then I figured, I'll read some more, get my mind off it. Just put it out of my mind. Wash it away.

And then it IMMEDIATELY happened again. Very vividly described. Even worse the second time because it went into details of the sensations, and DREAD, which are what hit me hardest.

I very nearly genuinely panicked at work, guys. Especially after having been sick three fucking times yesterday, I was NOT okay.

So yeah. Shut the book and went to walk around the hall, went to the bathroom, and got Very Very Close to actually breaking down. I thought I would for awhile, but it just made me tremble and breathe shallowly for awhile and mostly calmed down.

And of course THAT was when the daily v* decided to hit. I wasn't calm anymore.

Needless to say, I didn't get a lot of work done today. (Especially since I left early for the dentist. At least I had to help a co-worker with the thing I'm the on-hand specialist for, so that helped pad out my daily production report...)

Did I mention all the bending over is making my back bad again? So that's fun. /s

( (( I also kind of hate the mention of "butterflies", because in one of my not-emvent stories re: Dove's Pregnant and they Don't Realize It, Srentha makes a joke that maybe the butterflies in her stomach are going crazy. Like, I get where the author(s) are coming from in ROXY but please... please don't make me associate this with that....... like yeah it's RELEVANT but I wanted that moment to be a little bit lighthearted in my head, not Horrifying. /:{ even though it IS horrifying for Dove but like. she's not in that scene )) )

....I'm gonna call and make a GI appointment tomorrow. If I can somehow get this to resolve before December, I'll just cancel the appointment. (Note to self: my mom has spells like this related to vertigo, so though I don't feel like the world is spinning, maybe up my daily meclizine, see if that works?)

Maybe also plan to visit an urgent care on a weekend, but that gets real expensive real fast. ;;; Especially with my shit insurance. It doesn't even cover 50%. {lP (Don't let the rumors about working for the government fool you. The benefits are nothing special. SCA federal workers only have insurance as good as their contractors give. Which right now is absolute SHIT. Thanks, /s, [company I probably can't name without risking a defamation suit or something, even though it sounds SUPER fucking generic and you probably wouldn't guess it's their actual legally copyrighted name].)

[phawareglobal]

Sarah Sizemore - phaware® interview 439

Former pulmonary hypertension patient, Sarah Sizemore discusses life 1 year post-lung transplant surgery.

My name is Sarah Sizemore. I'm 22 now, and I live in South Carolina. My connection with pulmonary hypertension is I was diagnosed with idiopathic pulmonary hypertension since age four until I was transplanted on October 31st of 2022. I was on IV Remodulin. I was on several oral pills for pulmonary hypertension. My symptoms started to become unmanageable, and I was maxed down on all therapies. My PH specialist said the next option is really lung transplant, as there wasn't really much to do anymore, as I was already on so many aggressive therapies. So it was kind of time. Around early 2021 is when I really started to decline. So we started that process. 

The process for a lung transplant was really fairly easy and quick, as I was declining so rapidly. So the MUSC transplant team tried to make things go very quickly. I think within two months, I was listed, and then I received my double lung transplant, I think, a month and a half on being on the UNOS list for organs. I think the decision for me was pretty quick. I would take it as if there's any slim chance that I could have a life without pulmonary hypertension, no matter how risky a transplant is, to me, that was a risk worth taking. As I've had pulmonary hypertension in my entire life, there was this option that could provide a life without PH, and I really wanted to pursue it. It's not an easy journey. It's difficult. I mean, it's a major surgery. 

When I would talk to post-transplant patients before I got my transplant, they describe it as trading one illness for another. It's kind of like that, just because of all the risks that come with transplant. But every single person that I talked to pre-transplant said that they would do it again in a heartbeat, just because the amount of life that they were able to live post-transplant. That really made the decision for me. So when I was told that it was time for a lung transplant, my immediate decision was that I wanted to pursue it, just due to the fact that I could have a life without pulmonary hypertension.

My recovery was fairly easy and smooth. I was out of the hospital within two weeks. I really didn't have any complications. It was a big surgery, so there was some hard recovery. But I really didn't have any complications. We thought I was going to need ECMO due to how severe my pulmonary hypertension was. I ended up not needing that at all. I was breathing on my own within two days post and then walking like within three days post, and then, I was discharged at two weeks. Lung transplant patients have to go through pulmonary rehab and physical therapy post-transplant due to just how big of a surgery it is. It takes a toll on your body.

I've had PH my whole life, so I had to relearn how to breathe. I was used to taking short, shallow breaths, but with new lungs, you need to expand them and really take deep breaths. So pulmonary rehab really works on breathing and helping you adjust to exercising with these new lungs. With new lungs, you really have to exercise every day to keep them in shape and keep them physically fit and open. So it's pulmonary rehab. You do it for three months post-op, but I haven't stopped doing pulmonary rehab since my transplant due to just some complications. I love it. It's a controlled environment. Everyone knows me, and they really care about me.

Then, around March, I ended up getting COVID. I had that for seven weeks due to not having an immune system. We have to be on immunosuppressants so we don't reject our lungs. So I had COVID for seven weeks. I really didn't get sick at all. My lungs were just that strong to handle it, but unfortunately, the risk with getting an illness is your body wants to fight it. So it gives antibodies, but that can also wake up your lungs and your body, and your body say, "Well, these aren't my lungs." So I unfortunately went into acute rejection in May and respiratory failure, having rejection due to the COVID. That caused some scarring and damage, just to being such a traumatic event. So that damage is unfortunately permanent, and so I will need another transplant soon due to the scarring. But transplant has changed my life in just 10 months, so I would do it again in a heartbeat.

With having COVID, it decreased my lung function, which is 36%, and so that unfortunately isn't going to get any higher, just due to the scarring and damages. I have some new conditions with these new lungs. It's not a problem with the pulmonary arteries anymore, like with pulmonary hypertension. It's now with the vessels and the airways. So that has caused scarring and damage to that. That is what's causing low lung function. It's just only going to get worse over time. My function has to drop a little bit more to be listed for a second lung transplant, just due to UNOS's rules and everything.

One year post, the journey has been incredible. It's been a year full of getting to experience things that I've never been able to, like swimming, because I was always on IV. I was running five miles a day, just so many things. I mean, and breathing, I felt what it feels like to be able to breathe normally, which was huge. Just so many things that you never think you would get excited to experience. I've fallen in love with exercise and actually being able to do that. So, I mean, each month has been something new that I've discovered I can do. This transplant has just been life-changing. 

October 31st will be a year. Then the year ahead is probably a second transplant, which I'm completely fine with, as I would do it again in a heartbeat. It's just another chance to get to experience those things all over again, which I'm looking forward to.

So I have a golden retriever, Hudson. He's two. I got him around the time when things started to decline. He has completely changed my life. I mean, dogs can save people's lives, and he definitely saved mine. Those years were rough, and then going into transplant, he was such a comfort and everything. He's a golden retriever, so he has so much energy. He loves playing ball and swimming. He made sure to take me out and make sure I got exercise to keep strong for transplant. Now, post-transplant, I've gotten to take him on big adventures that we've never been able to do, which is such a blessing. I call him my furry soulmate. I mean, he's my soul dog. He's my whole life. I mean, I couldn't imagine doing this journey without him. He loves life and loves adventures. 

The advice I would give is to trust your instincts. I know it's terrifying, and it's scary. I mean, I felt all of those things. It's such a big journey, but each second and minute that you get to experience a life without whatever disease you have, is so worth all of the hard milestones.

The biggest thing for me was getting to carry on my donor's legacy in life. Now, I am living for myself and my donor. They have given me this chance, and that's the biggest thing. Then, just talk to other transplant patients that have gone through it, because that was the biggest support for me, was just speaking to other transplant patients. They gave me tips for surgery, how to make it comfortable post-transplant. They gave me so many tips that now, being out, I was like, "Wow. That really helped."

Really take care of yourself, too, because it is a big journey. You want to be strong mentally, really mentally and physically, but mostly mentally, because it is a big journey. Just take care of yourself. Prioritize yourself. Take time for yourself to process and everything. Trust your medical team. It's scary, but they do what they do best. I was really at peace when I had my transplant, because I trusted my team. I was just so ready to have a second chance at life. I think that's the biggest thing I would say. 

My name is Sarah Sizemore, and I am aware that I'm rare.

Learn more about pulmonary hypertension trials at www.phaware.global/clinicaltrials. Follow us on social @phaware Engage for a cure: www.phaware.global/donate #phaware Share your story: info@phaware.com 

Listen and View more on the official phaware™ podcast site

[criticalbread]

I’ve been frustrated with my medical appointments this week and have reached a revelation as to why.

This week I had a call with the neurosurgery department about some nerve pain and numbness I’ve had in my right shoulder blade/shoulder/elbow/wrist&hand. The nurse called to check up on me to see if I’d seen any improvement with my physical therapy. Now, this nurse had been the same nurse to go through the extensive pain questionnaire with me some months earlier. And as we talked she referred back to my answers last time, as well as my autoimmune arthritis, so like... she knew a lot about my pain profile, my general expectations as to my abilities, the fact that I have a lifelong condition that is able to be managed by medication but is one that invariably progresses. So, keep that in mind.

My other appointment yesterday morning was with the rheumatologist who helped diagnose me with said autoimmune arthritic condition. The appointment had been to check in on the extensive list of disabling and limiting symptoms I have been experiencing and which I had reported to my primary care doctor as part of moving towards a disability claim. Notable on this list are being unable to stand for 45 minutes without pain or sit for 45 minutes without pain, and needing to be able to move between sitting, standing, and lying down throughout the day to manage. These were something we discussed because we needed to decide if the medication I’m on to make my immune system chill needs to be increased, changed, anything to make it so I can function.

These were two appointments structured very differently to tackle different issues, and yet somehow they both came down to the same thing: me being blindsided when both of these medical professionals cheerfully ignore every reality of my condition(s) to be able to brush past my concerns and end our appointment on a positive note.

The nerve pain in my back and arm have improved since I started these exercises, I tell the nurse over the phone. But only the nerve pain, I note; without it, it is more apparent the joint pain I have in my neck, shoulder, the ribs on that side, and in my elbow, wrist, and hand throughout the day with repetitive use or strain. Even just using a computer to type, or sealing treat bags at work. After telling me how great that is-- how happy she is for me-- how, regretfully, the joint pain does sound in line with my arthritic condition-- how proud she is that I’ve stuck to the exercises when many people don’t-- and of course after regaling me with how she had to get physical therapy herself, once, at 18 after a car accident and wasn’t it just the worst-- to end on a positive note, she tells me in regards to my continued joint pain in the area, Just keep up the exercises! Most people don’t like to hear it, but these exercises really can be the thing that improves your joint pain most. We’re going to have you feeling 29 again instead of 79! To which, bemused, I do not reply, what the hell are you talking about? To which I absolutely don’t say, did you forget in the last thirty seconds that I have a joint condition that will never go away? One that gets worse with repetitive stress on a joint? Any joint, apparently, even though it’s ostensibly an inflammatory condition of the spine?

I don’t say any of this, because I’m at work; at work, because I can’t afford to miss an hour of my 4 hour daily torture session with my savings account 2 months of rent and utilities away from nothing; don’t take the time to say it because I can feel my pain timer ticking down and I want to get treats bagged as fast as possible before pain starts to creep in where I know it’s going to stay for the rest of the day and god dammit I just want to get it done and go lay on the couch at home. So I laugh, and say wouldn’t that be nice, and ask her if she has any other questions, no, thank you so much, yes, talk to you in three months, thank you, Merry Christmas to you too, have a good day. And I go and bag dog treats, and the big joint in my thumb burns brightly painful as I press the seals closed, and my wrist and elbows hurt as I press the heat sealer down on each one for half a second, which is better than the week before when my exhaustion was so great my arm felt barely strong enough to press and hold it down and I’d had to lean my weight on it; and as I sit my SI joints and low back and hips begin to feel like bruises some mean kid has decided to lean on. And I imagine a world where I ever get to feel the youthful pain-free 29 that this near stranger has conjured up in her mind.

The very next morning, on a video call with my rheumatologist who I’ve seen only once or twice before, she asks me about my symptoms, and I tell her. You had seen improvement with the medication, she asks by just saying flat out. Yes, I say, when I was isolating in place and extremely depressed, so doing very little but alternate between sitting and laying down with my only activity being going on walks and occasionally grocery shopping. I didn’t realize how bad it was until I tried to work this job. She asks me, what do you do at your job? So I tell her about my four hours at the bakery, 2.5-3 hours on my feet doing light work assisting at baking dog treats and cleaning, then 1-1.5 hours seated sorting treats into bags and sealing them. And I know she has the list I recited to my PCP in front of her, and I dutifully recite it again exactly as it was written, because I know I’m playing a loaded game where any reported incongruity will make me seem an untrustworthy reporter of my own life when they go through my medical notes to decide if I’m disabled enough to be given chump change. I tell her, Four hours, allowed to sit down when I’m standing, allowed to stand when I’m sitting, and so much pain and fatigue that I’m unable to cook myself more than a single meal a week, unable to shower frequently or go grocery shopping or on walks or have any hobby that isn’t laying on the couch in a fog. How I’m in so much pain. How it eats right through the 800mg of ibuprofen I take 3 times a day.

So she says we’ll up my dosage of the TNF to suppress my immune system; tells me, it makes sense, any repetitive strain on your joints is going to cause inflammation and pain. Says, to my absolute amazement, well, fatigue isn’t a symptom of your condition, whilst I sit in bitten-tongue silence when I want to say actually, it’s the least talked about symptom and you should know that, why don’t you know that? There are studies about it, about inflammation and cytokine release. Laughs and says to me, well, we can give you some prednisone to get you through this bad flare and see if it gets your pain down but it might have effects on your mood and I want to laugh because This is a good week! What flare?! This is nothing compared to a flare! I can’t get up from the couch for mroe than ten minutes for a flare! and I don’t think it’d be a good idea to flirt with mood changes considering I have treatment resistant depression, on the list right in front of you, malingering like a pall over this conversation considering I mentioned how it’s heightened my limitations this past year and, and, and.

Depression runs in my family too, she tells me. Not to go on about my own medical history, but I have an issue with anxiety, and tells me about how her heart medication has helped improve it. She’s much better now! It really sounds like you might need to find a different job that has less labor, more sitting and being able to stand up as you need it, she tells me, exhibiting the same short term amnesia as the nurse to the fact that I had mentioned that; mentioned that I do it already and it doesn’t help, just prolongs. You should be managing the bakery, not working in it! said cheerfully, conspiratorially, something to keep you in the office and interacting with customers, using the phone! as if on my handy little list in front of her it isn’t mentioned ample reasons and comorbid bullshittery as to why none of those are viable.

I mention the more constant, more noticeable pain in the base of my thumb making it so painful to pinch a sponge or seal a stiff bag and say the word arthritis. That’s not arthritis, that’s mechanical, she dismisses me, uninterested in discussing it further. The same way during our first visit she was uninterested in discussing the hypermobility both I and my PCP suspect. You don’t have that, she told me then. That’s not arthritis, she tells me now. Besides. It won’t matter if I find that mythical other job.

I signed on with this job because 4 hours seemed very doable, only to find it’s too much, I tell her, trying to remind her of not ten minutes earlier. I am sitting. I do get to sit and stand as needed and it doesn’t matter. Find a new job! A position that lets you sit and stand as you need it! Again astounded, I want to ask, how many jobs do you think are out there with 4 hour and less shifts? How many that thread the needle of what I can do? No talking on the phone, no interacting face-to-face with customers, not sitting too long, not standing to long, able to lie down whenever I need it which is most of the time, jobs I can do when I have such bad brain fog I can’t focus well enough to read for hours or days and am talking so slow I sound like a Looney Toon moving through molasses. What job am I going to find when the experience of job searching had me in constant crisis for weeks as I struggled with anxiety and agoraphobia and suicidal ideation. What fucking job, doctor? Please, tell me about this magical position.

Just find a different job, she says to me. I trail off. I thank her for her time, let her schedule me an appointment in a few months to report back about if the medications have helped, the doubled dose of one and the 8 new tablets I’ll have to take weekly, yes I’ll talk to my PCP about the not-symptom fatigue, oh yes Merry Christmas to you too, have a good one, buh-bye.

What have I gotten from these appointments? I’ve gotten to enjoy their stories about how they had an issue, once, and then they got better. I had the dubious pleasure of being told breezily, carefree with optimism, sincere with belief, that I’m going to get back to some imaginary healthy baseline I haven’t experienced since 17 and finally get to be 29. I’ve received sunny, flippant advice that ignores almost everything I’ve reported and every diagnosis I’ve amassed because obviously I’ve never considered getting an office job that lets me be seated but occasionally stand-- maybe at a standing desk! As if I hadn’t scoured through a round thousand of job listings, day after day for weeks, trying desperately to thin them out to jobs I can mostly do and then calculating just how much pain, exhaustion, anxiety, and mental crisis I can ostensibly force myself to work through for each one. Can’t live if you can’t eat and pay rent. Can’t live if you can’t, well. Live.

I’m so frustrated. I’m so exhausted.

[albertalice920]

Multiple Sclerosis is a chronic disease that causes the immune system to attack the body’s nerve fibers. It affects people between the ages of 20 to 40 and is usually attributed to a mix of genetic and environmental factors. While the disease itself is not fatal, patients tend to succumb to complications in later stages, making the average life expectancy of Multiple Sclerosis patients a few years shorter than that of a healthy person. Let’s take a closer look at how MS manifests and what patients should know about disease progression and life expectancy.

Understanding Multiple Sclerosis

Multiple Sclerosis (MS) is a chronic inflammatory condition of the central nervous system (CNS). It is an autoimmune demyelinating disease, which means the immune system mistakenly attacks normal tissues — in this case, the myelin or protective covering around nerve fibers. This leaves scarred tissues or lesions in multiple areas, disrupting electrical impulses throughout the body. When the myelin sheath is damaged, nerve impulses slow or even stop, causing neurological problems. Common early symptoms of Multiple Sclerosis include double or blurred vision, tingling or weakness in the body, tremors, and unsteady gait. Timely treatment is essential to slow disease progression and keep symptoms in check.

Multiple Sclerosis progression

Multiple Sclerosis can be classified into three main types based on disease progression. A patient may test for one or more of these at different points in time, depending on the symptoms and the rate of degeneration in the central nervous system.

Relapsing-remitting Multiple Sclerosis: Around 85% of Multiple Sclerosis patients experience this type of MS. It involves periodic relapses, caused due to an irritation or inflammation of the nerves in the CNS. During a relapse, the patient’s symptoms worsen, and this can last anywhere between several days to several weeks. After each relapse will come a period of improvement, lasting several weeks or even months, during which symptoms may even improve slightly.

Primary-progressive Multiple Sclerosis: Around 15% of Multiple Sclerosis patients will experience primary-progressive MS. Essentially, instead of relapses and recovery periods, the patient’s symptoms will gradually worsen right from the onset of the disease.

Secondary-progressive Multiple Sclerosis: Around 15% of patients who have relapsing-remitting MS will experience secondary-progressive MS. Essentially, over time the disease symptoms will start to steadily decline rather than relapse and recover. This usually happens within 10 years of the initial MS diagnosis.

Life expectancy with Multiple Sclerosis

One of the key questions that patients ask at the time of diagnosis is — what is the life expectancy for someone with Multiple Sclerosis? In general, the lifespan of an MS patient is about five to 10 years less than that of the healthy population. This is not due to the disease itself, but from complications that arise as the disease progresses. Most patients with advanced Multiple Sclerosis will experience issues related to mobility, swallowing, breathing, or a combination of all three. Some of the causes of death in the late stages of MS include:

Chronic bed sores from prolonged immobility

Chronic urinary tract infections such as urogenital sepsis

Bacterial / Aspiration pneumonia

Choking due to dysphagia (trouble swallowing)

Other causes of death for Multiple Sclerosis patients include:

Heart disease, which can be linked to unhealthy weight gain from not moving enough

Lung disease owing to weakened chest muscles

Suicide owing to the frustration of illness or as a result of depression or anxiety

Factors that affect Multiple Sclerosis prognosis

While Multiple Sclerosis life expectancy for any one patient depends on their unique medical history and symptom patterns. Certain factors are more favorable than others for a longer life. Some of these factors include:

Getting diagnosed at a younger age

Only one CNS system being involved at disease onset

Having a low rate of symptom relapses per year

Having a long interval between the first and second CNS attack

Complete recovery from the first attack

Low disability in the first two to five years after diagnosis

More sensory symptoms than motor-related symptoms

Later cerebellar involvement

Gender — Female patients are more likely to live a longer life

Treatment for Multiple Sclerosis

While there is no cure for Multiple Sclerosis, treatments can slow disease progression, keep symptoms in check, and lengthen the recovery period between relapses. The sooner a patient starts treatment, the more effectively CNS damage can be contained, leading to fewer debilitating symptoms and a better quality of life in later stages. In addition, Physiotherapy, Occupational Therapy, and Speech Therapy help to improve day-to-day functionality and optimize quality of life. Some of the lifestyle changes that MS patients can make to stay healthy include:

Getting enough exercise, with at least 150 minutes of moderate aerobic exercise per week

Performing exercises, specified by a physiotherapist, to strengthen limbs and improve muscle control

Eating a diet rich in leafy green vegetables, whole grains, and lean protein

Cutting out tobacco, alcohol, and caffeine

Getting regular check-ups for blood sugar, cholesterol levels, and other vitals so that the doctor can detect any abnormalities in time

Staying cool to avoid symptom flare-ups

Doing cognitive exercises which help in brain function, memory, and combatting attention deficit

Having a regular sleep schedule

Managing stress through activities like journaling or meditation

Seeking out a counselor in case of depressive or suicidal thoughts

A Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis doesn’t have to be viewed as a death sentence. As treatments continue to evolve, Multiple Sclerosis life expectancy is on the rise and so is the quality of life. A healthy, active lifestyle, and an appropriate treatment plan will ensure that patients retain as much functionality as possible as the disease progresses. In addition, the patient must keep a close eye on their symptoms and consult the doctor at once if there is any change. This will help to tailor the Multiple Sclerosis treatment plan for maximum benefit.

https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/multiple-sclerosis/

https://library.med.utah.edu/kw/ms/prognosis.html

https://www.webmd.com/multiple-sclerosis/features/ms-life-expectancy

FAQs

Does Multiple Sclerosis shorten life expectancy?

The life expectancy of someone with Multiple Sclerosis is slightly reduced. The average lifespan of 25 to 35 years is often made, once diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.

Does MS get worse with age?

Over time, symptoms of MS stop coming and going, but begin getting steadily worse. This change can happen shortly after MS symptoms appear, or it may even take years or decades.

Is Multiple Sclerosis always fatal?

No, Multiple Sclerosis itself is rarely fatal.

At what age does MS get bad?

The disease manifests differently in every person. When it comes to age, most people are between 20 and 50 when they’re diagnosed.

Will I end up in a wheelchair with MS?

No, Many people living with MS are able to walk unassisted, while a smaller number need the help of a mobility aid.

How can I stop my MS from progressing?

While there is no cure, there are lifestyle changes that can slow progression of the disease. These include sticking to a treatment plan, eating a healthy diet, avoiding smoking, and getting restful sleep.

What should I avoid with Multiple Sclerosis?

Some common triggers for patients with Multiple Sclerosis that can be avoided include stress, heat, childbirth, certain vaccines, a Vitamin D deficiency, lack of sleep, and a poor diet.

How fast does MS progress without medication?

Treatment, including medication, can slow down the disease progression in MS. Researchers have found a 7.5-year difference between MS patients who took medication and those who didn’t.

What is the most aggressive form of MS?

‘Fulminate MS’ is the most rapidly progressive disease with severe relapses as early as within 5 years of diagnosis. It is also known as ‘malignant MS’ or ‘Marburg MS.’ This form of MS may need to be treated more aggressively than other forms.

Can you have MS for years and not know it?

A benign form of MS that can’t be identified at the time of initial diagnosis, can take as long as 15 years to diagnose. The course of the disease is unpredictable.

[r00m203]

10-15-2000

let's say scully kept a pregnancy journal

look, i know these sound nothing like her dramatic ass journals from momento mori or emily so just pretend with me that scully's feeling more ~casual~ here idfk. here's two entries to start

big thanks to my favorite ladies @stellaxxgibson @scintillatingbluefishies and @absolutetosh for the beta <3

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

My last entry in this journal is from Africa. The one before that, the hospital. Funny, they’re all addressed to Mulder.

Writing has been proven to improve immune function. I’ve read studies where journaling was determined effective in lessening symptoms of seemingly non-emotion related ailments such as asthma and rheumatoid arthritis.

I’ve only written as a means of therapy a few times in my life. When I did, I poured hours and hours into perfecting every sentence; every word; every letter. Everything needed meaning and weight. Missy was constantly writing, scribbling more accurately, and I never understood how she could care so little about the importance of what she put on paper. I’m going to try my best to let go and just write. The way she would. It’s probably what I should have been doing all along. God, I miss her.

I think journaling during this horri difficult time will be good for me, if not for processing emotions, then for documenting this pregnancy. If anything is wrong, I can look back and identify indications much more efficiently.

I’m currently 8 weeks. My symptoms include:

Fatigue

Tender breasts

Mild Constipation

Mild Extreme Nausea

The smell of most foods triggers intense bouts of vomiting. This morning Dogget burned his coffee and I had to sneak away to curl up on the bathroom floor three times. He probably thought I was being a bitch, as usual. It made me miss the way Mul

I have some light spotting, but my doctor assures me it’s nothing to be concerned about. I’m keeping a close eye on it nonetheless. I finally got a hold of Mom, and she’s coming with me to my 9 week sonogram. She didn’t ask any questions. I could tell she wanted to. I’m grateful she didn’t. It was hard enough to get through the phone call without bursting into tears.

I’ve been having trouble controlling my emotions lately. Maybe I should add that to my symptom list. I’ll underline. It’s been mostly sudden aggression and crying. Doggett has gotten the brunt of my outbursts. Anytime he so much as breathes I compare it to feel overwhelmed. He hums for exactly an hour and a half after lunch, he keeps the blinds half closed even after I open them when I get in, and he leaves fifteen minutes early every day. Mul I’m used to a quiet office. I like the blinds open. And we I always leave half an hour late.

Keep Reading 

i’ve been posting a lot and i appreciate these very talented ladies dealing w me in their notifs tytytyty @baronessblixen @sarie-fairy (sorry theres more sarah) @today-in-fic @storybycorey @o6666666

[yikesharringrove]

I both really want to read a conversion camp fic and really fucking DONT lol but I trust you to do it well and not absolutely destroy us so... I am asking for you to write the conversion camp fic please.

Oh, my plan is to absolutely destroy you all with this one.

This is modern bc it wasn’t gonna be but then I wrote a part and it kinda had to be lol

TW: religion, homophobia, transphobia (nd Steve), conversion camp, anxiety, depression, physical abuse, the word r*pe is thrown around, suicidal ideations, basically, it’s a DOOZY

Seriously, this shit gets DARK. I have A LOT of untapped emotions.

But it has a happy ending, don’t worry

-

Steve’s hands were shaking as they dug through his bag.

They had already pulled out the eyeshadow palette he had tried to sneak in, needed something to make himself feel okay in this inevitable Hell.

“Did you receive our guidelines?” They had found the lipstick he had shoved in one of his shoes. “We specifically outlined prohibited items.” He took a shaky breath. “Your perversion is much deeper than anticipated, Mr. Harrington.” He just nodded.

He was shuffled about, led to a cold blank room.

His first meeting with a conversion specialist.

“What is your infatuation with women’s things?” The man’s voice made Steve feel like there was cold water dripping down his back.

“I just like pretty things.”

“Why do you deny your manhood?”

“I don’t.”

“You say that, but you do. Every time you pretend you’re a woman-”

“I don’t pretend I’m a woman. I just like makeup and stuff.” He gave Steve a disgusted look.

“By denying your true self, you have turned your back on God. You have allowed the devil to infiltrate your soul, to convince you that these perversions are okay.” He looked down at the paper in his lap, the forms Steve had been forced to sit and fill out with his parents. “You were not close with your father, were you?”

“Um, no. Not really.”

“So you pushed away your male role model?”

“He pushed me away, more like.” The man pursed his lips.

“A father does not push away his son unless there is something evil within him. A father can always tell when there is something wrong, something disgusting in his offspring.” He stood up, towering over Steve.

“You are disgusting, Steven Harrington. You are perverse and foul. You turn your back on your Creator. But you are not without a savior. You can be saved. Denounce the devil that tempts you to this life. Follow your savior, and He will lead you to safety.” He held out his hand. Steve took a breath, and shook it.

-

Steve’s first day was a fucking nightmare.

He was led to his room, a small room with two bunked beds and no doors. He was told he’d have three roommates, and if they were caught touching one another, the punishment would be painful.

And then it was group therapy.

He sat in a circle with ten of the other boys from the program. They were forced to discuss every attraction they had ever felt to anyone besides women. They were forced to discuss sexual encounters they had had with men, and call themselves disgusting.

And as it was Steve’s turn, and he talked about wearing panties, and fingering himself, and sucking Tommy’s dick, and he felt disgusting.

At dinner he met one of his roommates, and his heart sank.

“Where’d they scrape you up?” The guy was fucking gorgeous.

“Indiana.”

“And you just a homo? Or...?” The guy’s voice trailed off as he looked Steve up and down. “You one a’ them crossdressers, too?” Steve flushed deeply.

“How, how did you know?”

“Because you look like they got to you already. Means they got something on you. Make you feel real bad about yourself.”

“How, how long have you been here?”

“Long enough. Seen plenty a’ boys come and go. Some cured, some just a lost cause.” He was so nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Why, why so long?” He grinned at Steve, sharp and beautiful.

“Because I’m immune, Pretty Boy.” Steve’s breath hitched. The guy licked over his teeth. “Can’t beat the gay outta me if they tried. And they fuckin’ have.”

“But why, why don’t you want to change? I mean, they’re, they’re right.” His blue eyes went cold.

“They got you deep. Damn, you might be the quickest turn around I’ve ever seen.”

“I just, I don’t want to be wrong anymore.” He leaned closer to Steve.

“You have never been wrong.” Steve felt like he was gonna cry.

A firm hand clapped down on Steve’s shoulder.

“William, I hope you’re treating our new guest nicely.” William’s face fell immediately.

“Yes, Father.” Steve looked up to see a priest holding onto him. His hair was greying and neat. His eyes were cold and dead.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to take Steven with me.” Steve followed him, eyes downcast, all the way to his office. “Steven, my name is Father Andrew. I’m here to help you.” Steve didn’t like his smile. “We’re going to meet everyday at 8:30 pm for your therapy.”

He pulled out a folder from the bottom drawer of his desk. He placed a photograph in front of Steve with a flourish.

It was porn.

It was fucking gay porn.

He stood in front of Steve, leaning against the desk, off to the side of the image.

“Tell me what you see here.” One of the men had dark hair. He was being taken from behind by the other man, his blond hair and bright eyes stirred something in Steve.

“Two men. Having sex.”

He didn’t see Father Andrew’s hand, just heard the crack of it against his cheek.

His eyes watered, his cheek burned.

“What do you see?”

“Two perverts.”

“What are they doing?”

“Defiling one another.”

“Good, Steven. You’re learning.”

He placed another photograph down. This time, the man being fucked had a full face of makeup, tears making the dark eyeliner run as he was on his back, hands cuffed to the bed. The man fucking him was smirking at the camera, tongue between his teeth.

“How does this make you feel?”

“Disgusted.”

“Why?”

“That they, they would touch each other like that.”

“Do you have fantasies like this? Of being tied up by another man? Raped by another man?”

And the answer, the answer was technically yes. He had plenty of fantasies of being tied up, taken rough, taken dirty.

But rape. That’s a strong fucking word.

“No, Father.” Another crack. Another slap.

“Lying is a sin, Steven.”

“I, I don’t want to be, to be raped.” Another slap.

“Lying is a sin, Steven.”

“Yes, yes Father. I have had fantasies.”

“These are not fantasies, these are perversions planted in your mind by demons, by the devil trying to pull you away from Christ our Lord. Do not let these demons lead you astray.”

He pulled out another picture.

Steve’s heart fucking stopped.

It was a picture of himself. A nude he had taken for Tommy.

He was wearing pretty lingerie, pouting to the camera. He remembers taking it, remembers putting on his makeup, posing over and over until he took one he liked. They must’ve gone through his phone, through his texts.

“Why do you dress like a woman?”

“Be-because I’m disgusting.” And the thing is, Steve had been told plenty of times that day that he’s disgusting, and he had begun to believe it.

“Good, Steven. You are disgusting. Do you believe you’re a woman?”

“No, Father.”

“Then why have you been experimenting with women’s things?”

“I believed I wasn’t a man.”

“And are you a man?”

“Yes, Father.”

“God made you a man.”

“Yes, Father.” Steve still didn’t like his smile.

He switched the image.

And it was another one of his nudes. This time he was in a skirt, kneeling with his back to the mirror, one hand spreading his cheeks, showing off the silver plug in his ass.

He even remembers the text he had sent with it.

Tommy had been studying for a test, so Steve sent that picture and said but im lonely :( and Tommy had replied I’ll be there in twenty.

“Why do you have an obsession with your anus?” Steve could feel the blood drain from his face.

“I, uh, it feels good.” Another slap.

“How does spitting in the face of your Heavenly Father feel good, Steven? Sodomy does not feel good.” Another slap. Steve’s face felt like it was on fire.

“I’m sorry, Father. I am vile, and disgusting.” Steve was sobbing, felt so fucking pathetic, trying to look anywhere but the printed image of himself.

“I think that’s enough for tonight. I expect you here tomorrow after dinner.”

Steve fucking ran back to his room.

The other boys were asleep. He climbed into the top bunk, curling into himself.

He felt disgusting, he felt foul and wrong and bad.

He tried to stifle his sobs into his pillow, the scratchy case muffling his panic attack.

“Hey, Stevie.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quiet.” There was a sigh, breath fanning over his face.

And then the boy from earlier was swinging himself into bed with him, curling against him.

“They said-”

“I know exactly what times they patrol. I’ll leave your bed before then.” He sighed. “First night’s always the hardest. You just gotta get through. Tell them what they wanna hear, but remember that they’re fucking wrong. You are valid, and real. Being gay is not disgusting.”

Steve curled into him, letting himself be comforted.

“Thank you. Thank you, William.”

“Oh, Christ. Call me Billy.”

“Thank you, Billy.”

-

As time passed, it was easy to retreat into himself.

He met with Father Andrew every night, got slapped and hit when his answers weren’t condemning enough.

But each night, Billy would crawl into bed with him, would hold him when he broke down.

The kiss was inevitable.

It happened after Steve had an extreme day, the beating he received when he had admitted to being nonbinary, that he had asked his friends at home to use other pronouns.

And Billy had said you’re perfect the way you are, Sweet Thing.

And Steve kissed him.

And Steve wanted to die.

-

“Forgive me, Father. For I have sinned.” Steve took a shaking breath.

He was kneeling in the small confessional.

They had Mass every three days, and confession each Friday.

“It has been one week since my last confession.” He took a deep breath. He needed to get this of his chest, needed to get the punishment he deserved. “Father, I, the feelings have not gone away. There is, there’s a boy, and I, I love him. And I try not to. I try not to look at him, to remember the devil is leading me astray. But Father, I think about him. I think about him often.”

“This is an extremely grievous sin, my son.”

“I know, Father. Please help me. I want to, I want to be pure. To be free of this sin, this temptation.”

“I offer, as penance for your sins, to pray a rosary for each time you have had an evil thought about your fellow man this week. As you ponder the Mysteries of the rosary, consider how God created you, how Jesus died for you, and you wipe your feet on their love.”

“Yes, Father.”

“And our meeting will be arduous tonight, Steven.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Now please, recite the Act of Contrition.”

Steve’s hands shook as he recited the prayer, finishing his confession with Father Andrew.

-

“Now, Steven. You discussed having impure thoughts today.”

Steve’s knees ached from praying the rosary so many times earlier today. He hadn’t eaten, had gone straight to the Chapel after his confession.

He wanted to pray, to cleanse himself.

And he didn’t want to risk seeing Billy.

“Yes, Father.”

“And you mentioned that you love another boy.”

“The devil is trying to make me think it’s love.” Father Andrew smiled his empty smile down at Steve.

“That’s right Steven. Because love cannot exist between two men. Love is a beautiful thing created and given to us by The Lord God.” Father Andrew leaned over Steve, made him shrink back in his seat. “Which is why you are unlovable as you are. You are foul and vile. You may be loved if you change.”

He grabbed Steve’s hair, holding his head still as he slapped his face.

And Steve let him.

He was foul, he was vile.

He deserved the pain.

-

Two months.

That’s how long it took Steve to “graduate”.

He left the facility in clean khakis, a nice sweater his mother had sent him to wear home.

Billy had left a week and a half prior.

He was deemed a lost cause.

Steve’s mother was there to pick him up, hugged him tight and told him how happy she was that he was fixed.

He was quiet as they drove, watching the shadows the summer sun cast on the side of the plain flat road.

“Your father will be pleased. You’ve made such wonderful progress. Free of all those delusions.”

They passed Tommy’s house.

He felt sick.

-

The first thing Steve did when he got home was destroy all his make up.

He took everything feminine from it’s hiding spot in the back of his closet.

He scraped out the eye shadow, smeared the lipstick all over his dresses.

He cut up his lingerie, shoved everything into a black garbage back, driving into town to toss it in the dumpster behind the gas station.

He wanted it away, he wanted it gone. He wanted to be pure.

-

His hands shook as he zipped up the suitcase.

He didn’t have much in there, was planning on taking enough to get him through a little while, then maybe buying some things, some pretty things.

His parents were asleep downstairs, he was planning on being long gone by the time they woke up.

He put on his backpack, taking his wallet and tiptoeing down the stairs, his shoes in his hand.

He had a plan, would drive to the bus station, leave his car there.

Someone will find it, and at that point, he’ll be long gone.

He bought a bus ticket to Chicago, paid in cash and gave a fake name.

He was fucking out of here.

They were fucking out of here.

-

“As I live, and fucking breathe.”

Steve startled as a hand came down on their shoulder.

They startled again when they turned around, came face to face with a ghost from the past.

“B-Billy?” Billy’s hair was longer than it had been at the camp. His smile was lazier, his eyes brighter. Steve’s gut gave an excited little flutter as he looked them up and down.

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous, Pretty Boy.” Steve flushed, adjusting their dress. It was new.

It had been three years since the camp. One year of Steve living in pain, until they packed their shit, and moved to the Golden Coast. They left in the middle of the fucking night, ran away like a scared child, never looking back.

And here was the love of their goddamn life, in some hole in the wall coffee shop in San Fransisco.

“It’s uh, it’s not Pretty Boy, anymore.” Billy’s grin got even wider.

“Thank fuck.” He swung himself into the seat across from Steve’s, upsetting some of the papers they were working on.

“What happened to you, Billy?” Billy’s smiled slipped, just a little.

“My dad was tired a’ paying for that joint if I wasn’t getting better. So he said if I wasn’t fixed in like, a month, he would stop paying, and I would be kicked out. Stayed true to his word. Haven’t seen the bastard since.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Getting kicked outta that place is the best fuckin’ thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I graduated. Went through the whole thing. Took me a year to realize how fucked up it was.”

“Jesus. They got you deep.” Steve shrugged.

“I’m okay now.”

“Yeah? What’re you doin’?”

“Goin’ to school. Gonna be a counselor. Hopefully work in an elementary school, or something.” Billy’s eyes were bright.

“That’s amazing. Gonna tell all the little queer kids that they’re valid and all that?”

“That’s the goal.” Billy grinned. “What are you doing now? You with anyone?”

“I own a bar, actually. Kind of a dive, but it’s a good time.” He looked at Steve through his lashes. “You should come by, sometime. Be good to see you.”

“I’d like to see you too.”

“And to answer your question, I’m not with anyone. Not right now.” He smirked. “But I could be.” He leaned over the table, drawing one finger down Steve’s hand. “I like seeing you happy. Feel like I only ever saw you cryin’ in that joint.”

“Well, spent a lot of time crying there.”

“For good reason.” Billy took their hand. “It’s really good to see you.”

“Y’know I told Father Andrew I was in love with you. Got beat black and fuckin’ blue for it.” Billy’s face was grave.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Wanted to be fixed. Took me a year to realize I didn’t need that.”

“You stop lovin’ me in that year?”

“Not even in the two after that.” Billy took a shaking breath.

“You know, I uh, I love you too. Always did. It broke my fucking heart to leave you in that place. Was gonna wake you up that night, get you to run away with me. But they took me out, uh, forcibly.”

“Bet you put up a real good fight.”

“Broke Father Ryan’s nose.” Steve let out a burst of laughter, clapping one hand over their mouth.

“I was wondering about that. He had a splint for like, a month.”

“Yeah, well, bastard kept tryin’ to exorcise me. Headbutted him right in the face.”

“Good for you, Bill. Sometimes I wish I could light the whole place on fire.”

“Me too.” Billy took their hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I gotta head, but I wanna see you. Soon. Later today, if you can.”

“Yeah, uh, I’m just doing some homework, but I could stop by the bar tonight? I don’t have shit to do tomorrow.”

“Lemme pick you up. We can go to dinner before I take you to the bar.” They smiled softly at him.

“I’d like that.”

[katblu42]

The End?

This is something I wrote for a creative writing competition. The challenge was to write something (within a week) starting at the end and working back to the beginning. For some reason the prompt/challenge sparked this little piece, which is pretty much non-fiction. I guess it came at a time when the subject matter was on my mind. I wanted to post it now because a related anniversary is coming up.

There are warnings!!! Please heed the tags. Death, Sickness, Hospitals, Cancer. (If more warnings/tags are needed please let me know so I can make appropriate edits!)

Below the cut for length and warnings.

This was not how their story was supposed to end. There were still so many chapters they had hoped to write together, so many journeys toward possible futures that they had imagined spending side by side. She never anticipated being a childless widow before she had even turned forty-two. She’d never considered being faced with a hopeless situation, or the unenviable decision to allow them to stop treatment and let him slip away. Treatments that could prolong his life a little, but not fix him. Their plans had never included his hand desperately clinging to hers as she tearfully told him it was okay for him to let go and leave her behind.

He had wanted to fight. It broke her heart that there was nothing the combined efforts of all the medical staff could do to support his fight. It was a losing battle. His body was giving up on him, organs shutting down even though his mind was not ready to give up. The three weeks he lasted in the ICU had left him battle-scarred and exhausted, but he had still not wanted to give in, or let her down.

His Forty-second birthday was less than a week before the end. It was spent with family, visiting two by two according to ICU visitor limits. He was barely able to communicate by then, his lips scabbed and bloody, and a ventilator tube in his throat inserted by tracheostomy. The medical team had not wanted the tube to remain in his mouth any longer, but he was too weak to breathe on his own.

He had been off the ventilator for a while, during one of the hopeful moments. They’d been able to remove the breathing tube, and they had been able to reduce the blood pressure medication for a while. His temperature had stabilised and she’d focused on the improvements, encouraging him to think positive. Facing the alternative had been unthinkable.

She had put such hope in the drug she’d had to sign permission for them to administer – one that had to be shipped urgently from interstate, that had approval for use in the US, but not here. They had told her it was possible too much time had passed for the reversal drug to be fully effective. It had been more than five days since the chemo treatment which now needed reversing had ended.

Hope was all she’d had at that point. Seeing him finally settled in Intensive Care with all the monitors and their beeps and alarms, the ventilator with its click and hiss, the hum of the heat pump regulating his temperature, the blood transfusion and IV lines all keeping her unconscious husband alive, she had to cling to every scrap of hope she could. His immune system was so compromised she had to wear the gown and gloves and mask just to sit in the corner of the room and let the silent tears fall.

The ICU waiting room was deserted during the wee hours. She and her Mum stayed until dawn before buzzing the door intercom to enquire about seeing him. His Dad had left after the surgeon had spoken to them all some hours before, explaining that in his current state surgery was not a viable option for the infection in his gut. The previous wait in Emergency had been shorter, and the waiting room slightly more comfortable, but the constant worry and the lack of information had been excruciating.

Two ambulances had attended their tiny unit in answer to her call, such was the seriousness of his condition. Despite having four uniformed people fussing over her husband, she had not been given much information about what was happening. She’d been instructed to get all his medication together to bring with her to the hospital, then left to change out of her pyjamas while they loaded him into an ambulance. All this happened in a blur of action and confusion. Less than 20 minutes before they all headed to the hospital she had been performing chest compressions on him on the tiled floor of their cramped bathroom.

The Emergency Services operator on the other end of the phone had talked her through the CPR procedure. She’d learned it years before in first aid training, but having to actually perform the chest compressions on someone she loved was still horrifyingly daunting. He hadn’t stopped breathing, but the ES operator had assured her CPR was necessary because his gasping breaths had been so far apart.

She had never had to call an ambulance for anyone before, but it didn’t take a genius to see she needed help. His level of responsiveness had decreased so rapidly after she’d found him slumped forward sitting on the toilet, unable to sit up unaided. The yellow tinge to his skin had startled her. He had cried out to her in such a way that instinct had brought her rushing from the loungeroom without taking a moment to process anything more than the feeling that something was very wrong.

He had just wanted to sleep, so she tried to give him space to do that, sitting quietly in the loungeroom while he stayed in the darkened bedroom. He had refused to let her bring him something to eat, which had concerned her. She’d offered to call the hospital for advice, knowing he was uncomfortable and wanting to make sure he was okay, but he had refused to let her, insisting that there was no need to make a fuss. She’d arrived home from work around five, and suspected he had been in bed all day, “just feeling a bit yuck.” Later she would feel so much guilt for not trusting her instinct to get help for him then.

For the first couple of days after his chemo treatment ended he had seemed okay, feeling upbeat, acting normal. He had been in high spirits despite the prospect of months of treatment still ahead. There had been a little grumbling about feeling a little bit off, but that was to be expected, right?

His first (and only) round of chemo had been a five day affair. Three medications, two of which had been administered within a day at the clinic and the third he had carried around in a little pack while it slowly released over the five days. The plan had been laid out by the oncology team, with lots of consultations and discussions during the preceding weeks. He was to have two or three rounds of the chemo drugs, then radiation treatment would begin. Combination therapy to treat the cancers in his mouth and throat.

There had been months of discomfort, reducing his ability to eat properly, or enjoy food. He had lost a considerable amount of weight before she had been able to convince him to finally go and see a doctor and find out what was wrong. He’d always been the type to avoid going to a doctor unless he was literally at death’s door. She knew that part of what had held him back for so long was the fear that it could be something serious.

He didn’t want to ruin their holiday, but he promised he would see someone about the sore throat when they got back from the Gold Coast. It was only a week spent away, but they had visited all their favourite haunts. This was one of their regular holiday spots during their ten year marriage. They always felt like big kids, visiting the theme parks and the beaches, playing mini golf, messing about in the resort pool.

The two of them had been lucky to share many little trips away over the years. They’d had many more days of laughter and smiles than they’d had of tears and troubles. There had been precious gifts exchanged between them – but not many in a physical form she could lay her hands on. Each of them had broadened the other’s horizons, sparking interest in new experiences, sharing the activities and pass-times they loved.

Their wedding day had been filled with fun and friends and family. She had seen then how many people his bright and generous personality drew to him. So many people had wanted to share in their joy, and had told her she would never find a more loyal and loving mate. All the elegance and finery, the colour and music, the celebration of their union had been a wonderful way to begin their journey hand in hand to the future.

His proposal on the beach, early in the morning in a place he had been holidaying with his family every year since he was tiny, had taken her by surprise. He had asked her to come with him for a walk. They had travelled quite a long way up the beach, just watching the waves crash on the shore, listening to the shrieks of the gulls and making small talk. Then he had dropped to one knee and asked the question. She needed a moment to take in what was happening. His heart just about stopped, thinking she was hesitating. She had said yes, and put him out of his nervous agony.

Their first “proper” date was a walk to the local McDonalds for burgers and sundaes. Neither of them had much money, so neither had wanted to go anywhere fancy. She had been happy with the little things – like the way he always walked beside her on the footpath placing himself between her and the busy road. He was not rich, nor did he have impressive style or a brainiac’s intelligence, but he was open and funny and kind and she wanted to spend time with him.

She hadn’t ever been to the trivia night at the local bowling club, so she wasn’t sure what to expect, or how it all worked. The lady who hosted the quiz gave her an answer sheet and steered her towards a table, telling her the young man with the twinkle in his blue eyes, and the dimpled smile would look after her. That was the moment their story had begun.

[juminsmysticmc]

Okay here is another idea. It would be rfa + minor duo: An MC that works at a daycare. I know it's not very detailed but I'm fine with it being taken in any direction you want.

RFA + Minor Duo with a Mc who works at a daycare 

Thank you for everything you do my love! 

Jumin

One day, right after your honeymoon, Jumin arrived home earlier than expected. 

However, you were missing.

The young man couldn’t reach you on your phone and all possible thoughts haunted him.

Did someone kidnap you? Perhaps you escaped on your own? Was there something wrong?

Jumin Han’s fears hit him as he tried to find out what happened to you.

However, when the bodyguards told him that you went out with a bag in your hands Jumin lost hope.

,,She escaped. I won’t try to take her back, or maybe that’s what she wants?’’ Jumin said out loud.

,,Are you troubled? Tell me,’’ you suddenly asked him, kissed his cheek, and went to the bathroom to wash your hands.

,,Yeah. My wife escaped and I wonder what I should do now. What do you think, Mc?’’ he asked you and looked up.

,,Huh? Mc? You came back?’’ he suddenly jumped up and looked at you.

His heart grew warmer. Was this happiness?

You chuckled and nodded.

,,You also come back after work, so why shouldn’t I come home?’’ you laughed. 

Well, the atmosphere got awkward. Jumin Han didn’t even know that his wife was working.

But then you reassured him and told him that you actually kept it hidden on purpose.

,,I think your job is amazing. Thanks to you, children have the possibility to play with other children and learn different kinds of things. When they have a Nanny, they perhaps can’t make any friends,’’ Jumin nodded as you told him about your part time job in a daycare.

Zen

,,But you need some time for yourself. You need to rest too!’’ Zen complained when you told him that you wanted to become his manager and keep working at the daycare center.

,,I know, but they are both part time. Besides, I don’t think that it’s hard. It’s almost like taking care of my own children,’’ you told him, trying to reassure him.

Zen’s eyes shined when you told him your feelings over your job.

,,I also want children by the way…’’ he told you, making you laugh.

,,Perfect, because I want you to become the father of my babies,’’ you confessed.

Sometimes Zen even came to your center to look at you from the window and observe you playing with the children.

Often you looked over their shoulders and sometimes it seemed as if you were helping them with homework.

,,You indeed do a lot of things at work, don’t you?’’ he asked you.

But nevertheless, Zen was amazed.

Every child was different, but you still managed to take care of them all and love them as if they were your own.

Yoosung

,,Are you okay?’’ Yoosung asked you when you came home.

You let go of your bag, jacket, and threw your body on the couch, beginning to sob immediately.

,,Hey, Mc, what’s wrong?’’ he asked you.

You sadly looked at him.

Something must have been wrong at work. You were the kind of person who loved her job with her whole heart.

As soon as a child felt sick, you felt responsible.

But that was also the reason why Yoosung loved you that much.

,,I- am I even good at what I do?’’ you asked him, sobbing into his shirt.

Yoosung nodded and then asked you the reason for your insecurity.

,,Today was the most hated day in my job - we needed to tell the parents about their children and I know that something is wrong with Dan-i. She can’t talk yet and she needs therapy so that she can finally talk. But the mother didn’t want to listen to me and said that if she’s too lazy to talk, it’s better that way! That’s not how a mom should be!’’ you kept crying.

Yoosung nodded.

Sometimes parents made decisions for their children which weren’t always right.

,,Listening to a stranger may have made her feel bad. Give her time and call her in two days. I’m sure that she paid attention to it by the time,’’ Yoosung told you, making you feel much better.

,,My co-worker is bugging me,’’ you kept going.

,,For the children’s health we need to sanitize the mats, but she just won’t do it!’’ you complained.

Yoosung quickly grabbed your cheeks and made you look at him.

,,You’re the team leader in there. They need to listen to you. For once, you can make them feel that you’re their supervisor!’’ Yoosung told you.

Like always, your husband had the perfect words to make you get up in a good mood the next day and overcome the day once again.

Jaehee

,,Have fun!’’ Jaehee laughed as you left the house and the coffee shop in her care.

You were still three times in the week for four hours working in the Daycare.

You just needed the balance between baking cakes, making coffee, and serving clients.

Working between children was totally different for you.

However, both jobs were challenging and as soon as the weekend came, you couldn’t wait to fall asleep next to your loving girlfriend.

,,How was your day?’’ she always asked you.

,,I’m feeling worn out and… sick?’’ you mumbled.

Jaehee mumbled, thinking that you were just sleepy from the hard day. However, she quickly realized that you were actually sick.

,,I hate it…’’ you mumbled, feeling bad that she had to be alone in the shop once again.

,,It’s normal. You are with children so it’s normal that you get sick too. Just rest a lot today,’’ she always made you feel better.

However, your job wasn’t just exhausting.

There also existed these beautiful days when you could successfully teach a kid something and got praised for your hard work.

Saeyoung

,,Have fun playing!’’ Saeyoung laughed as you were about to leave.

However, you stayed in the same spot for a few seconds more.

,,You know,’’ you began ,,working the whole day in a daycare isn’t as easy as you think. Of course, we can do a lot of fun things such as watching Disney movies or reading a book together, but I would like to see you change a diaper.

Or to make a toilet break, tidy up dirt, poop, and food,’’ you responded.

You lived and loved your job and whenever someone said that working in a daycare was a joke, you got angry.

Because it wasn’t.

Saeyoung kissed you and apologized.

,,I know that you do more, that you write reports, make lesson plans, keep a close eye on all the children, take care of them, and often your job is heartbreaking.

I’m sorry if my joke was tasteless,’’ he honestly told you and smiled at you again, lifting up your mood.

,,Thank you Saeyoung,’’ you whispered and really went to your students.

Saeran

,,It’s amazing!’’ Saeran smiled at you brightly when you told him that you would start in a daycare.

You were crazy about children, wanted their best, and you wanted to help children.

You wanted to make homework assignments with them, keep an eye on them, teach them how to walk, eat, and talk.

You wanted to love them and make them feel loved.

But one of your other reasons was that you wanted to keep a close eye on children who perhaps could have been abused.

You didn’t want anyone to have to live in pain like Saeran and Saeyoung had.

You wanted to do something for children.

Of course it was hard. You first had to take a lot of tests, pass on different things and learn a lot of different stuff.

And your pay wasn’t even high.

You had to tidy up vomit. A lot of vomit.

And for the first time, you even got awfully sick when a kid was sick too.

The worst was that whenever you got sick, Saeran would get sick too and since he was kind of weak it always worried you.

,,It looks like we got immune,’’ Saeran laughed as he thought about the last illness you told him about.

You nodded and hugged him.

,,Let’s have a child on our own soon,’’ you told him, making him feel ready too.

Jihyun

,,I look up to you,’’ he confessed one day when you arrived home with Lucy who was at the same centre as you.

You smiled at him and asked Lucy if she would please wash her hands first. You did the same and went into the kitchen and prepared dinner.

,,Why?’’ you asked Jihyun since he praised you out of nothing.

,,Well,’’ the blue haired man began.

,,You go there with our daughter, take care of her and a lot of other children. You teach them how to eat, take care of themselves, make them take naps.

You don’t have time for yourself, you prepare for the next lessons, and I just think that you are amazing, Mc,’’ he ended.

You nodded and looked at him, you knew perfectly what he wanted to say with his words.

,,You know, you did a great job with Saeyoung,’’ you told him, placing your hand on his cheek.

,,Saeyoung is so thankful to you, and we are too. And even though you have the feeling that some things didn’t work out the way you wanted, always think about it: someone else is thankful to you and things that you did great. Besides, it was your first time taking care of a child and you were young yourself,’’ you told him, your husband who blushed and thanked you for the compliment you gave him.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

30.03.2020// 00:01 MEST

[magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics]

Thoughts on 2020

Once again I broke my own promise of coming back and finish my to-do list. I will no longer apologise nor will I find excuses, because the truth is none of that matters right now.

I’m not writing this in an attempt to call anyone’s attention, nor am I doing it to make me feel good in any kind of way. I write this because the year is ending and I like to recall what happened throught the year and also because I need to express myself. Sorry if it triggers anyone.

At the beginning of the year I was full of work, inspiration, love, friendship... I turned 21 and was thinking this was the year of my great breakthough. I thought it was the year I would finally finish college, move out of my parents house, and start making a life for myself. How wrong I was.

By February my life broke in a way I can’t even begin to describe. I had a big loss, a loss that happened by my own hand and that I still cannot explain without hating myself a bit more. And yet, I still had some love left.

By March things in my country went really bad. Tons of women just get killed like bugs all around me, and every time they were closer and closer to me. My mother and I protested along many others by hiding from the world for 24 hours. No wifi, no streaming, no nothing. It didn’t do much. Not even my own father and brothers took it seriously.

And then we learned about the rona and we had to hide all together for a whole month. My boyfriend moved in with us, and I realised my relationship wasn’t as perfect as I thought. There was something wrong with us. Not only that, but I realised how useless and immature I really am. I can’t move out and actually live alone... not yet.

Months went by, I can’t even recall what happened when, but I always felt like something was off. Not only with my boyfriend, but also with my family. There was something wrong. But hey, I finished my first novel.

By August my parents decided to travel and so my brother and I moved in temporarily with my boyfriend. We started taking couple’s therapy, and those were the best three weeks in my life, I swear. And yet there still was something off.

When we came back I was afraid. Afraid of bringing my things back, afraid things would break even more. But my grandparents arrived and things got easier for a while. 

The following months were confusing. Every day I turned angrier and angrier, breaking whatever was left of myself. I then realised the friendships I had at the beginning of the year were long gone, and so would happen to my relationship if I didn’t seek for help.

We had been to therapy, yes, but the kind of help I needed was something else.

My grandparents and my parents are at the brink of divorce, my uncle got divorced, another aunt got divorced as well, my friends broke up with their respective partners... 

I called a suicide hotline. I got asked to seek for a therapist urgently.

I got depression, anxiety and I no longer know myself.

Christmas was nice, but there were details I cannot recall because my new pills are taking the best out of me. I fall asleep anywhere I can, I forget to eat, or go pee, or even speak. I feel like a ghost. 

I began hoarding again, and though I paint twice a day and can act like a human being, I no longer feel like myself. 

They say it gets better with time, and my psychiatrist says I will recover, and my therapist says I’m doing great but I don’t feel great. 

I thought of jumping off the window not two hours ago, and I’ve starved myself the whole day.

I’m afraid. I’ve no immune system left, I haven’t got one since I got sixteen and diagnosed with lupus. If rona gets me, I don’t think I’ll be able to fight it. I’m not sure I will want to fight.

I feel confused. I’ve always been the one to stick out and stay strong for others and now I feel like no one is strong enough to stay with me. 

I had amazing plans for my 2021. I’d start a YouTube channel, I’d make a music video (a cover song), and I’d challenge myself to use all of my clothes for a change and document it for views... But now the only time I change clothes is when I go see my in-laws and they leave today. The only songs I sing are in my head, and the only views I get are imaginary.

Is it normal? I hope so, but I’ve never been one to tag as normal.

And all I have to say to you is thank you for sticking here with me, I can’t promise I will come back soon or ever, nor can I promise to finish the list. All I can do is thank you for being here, for being patient, and for believing in me.

Happy 2021

[blog-cosmosuniverse1]

Dr. Peter McCullough: The State of COVID Treatment

Story at-a-glance Cardiologist, internist and epidemiologist Dr. Peter McCullough discusses why a key aspect of care — early treatment — has been missing from the pandemic With no hope of early treatment, McCullough believes that most people became conditioned to wait for an injection COVID-19 injections are waning in effectiveness and linked to an unacceptable number of serious injuries and deaths McCullough is among a growing number of experts who believe COVID-19 injections are making the pandemic worse; indiscriminate vaccination is driving mutations, as the virus is mutating wildly to evade the injections At 53:40 in the video, you can view McCullough’s early treatment regimen, which initially includes a nutraceutical bundle, progressing to monoclonal antibody therapy, anti-infectives like HCQ or ivermectin, antibiotics, steroids and blood thinners

The video above,1 featuring cardiologist, internist and epidemiologist Dr. Peter McCullough, is packed with sound logic, data and action steps that have the potential to turn the pandemic around — if only more people would listen.Recorded at the Andrews University Village Church in Berrien Springs, Michigan, August 20, 2021, this presentation deserves to be heard, and I urge you to listen to it in its entirety. It will make you question why a key aspect of care — early treatment — has been missing from the pandemic.McCullough, editor of two medical journals who has published 650 peer-reviewed papers, said this has been the first time in his career when he saw medical providers not offering early treatment for a disease.Early COVID Treatment Saves Lives The standard of care for COVID-19 has been to withhold treatment until a person is sick enough to be hospitalized. It typically takes two to three weeks for someone with COVID-19 to get sick enough to be hospitalized, and during that time early treatment can be lifesaving.The rationale was that there have been no large, randomized trials conducted to know which treatments are safe and effective, but as McCullough said, "We can't wait for large randomized trials … Something got in the minds of doctors and nurses and everyone to not treat COVID-19. I couldn't stand it." He and colleagues worked feverishly to figure out a treatment — why didn't national health organizations do so also?"Our government and other governments, and the entire world, has not lifted a finger to reduce the risk of hospitalization and death anywhere," McCullough said, pointing out the irony: "If there was a kid with asthma, would we let the kid wheeze and choke for two weeks before the kid has to go to the hospital? No, we give the child medications. We don't have randomized trials for every single thing that we do."2 McCullough and colleagues realized that there are three major phases to COVID-19. It starts with virus replication, which then triggers inflammation, or a cytokine storm. This, in turn, leads to blood clotting. If enough micro blood clots form in the lungs, a person can't get enough oxygen and dies. It's a complex process, and no single drug is going to work to treat it, which is why McCullough uses a combination of drugs, as is done to treat HIV, staph and other infections.Only about 6% of doctors' decisions in cardiology are based on randomized trials. "Medicine is an art and a science, it takes judgment. What was happening is, I think out of global fear, no judgement was happening," McCullough said,3 referring to doctors' refusal to treat COVID-19 patients early on in the disease process.Doctors Threatened for Treating COVID-19 Around the world, the unthinkable is happening: Doctors are being threatened with loss of their license or even prison for trying to help their patients. French doctor Didier Raoult suggested, early on, putting up a tent to try to treat covid-19 patients. He was put on house arrest. He has promoted the use of hydroxychloroquine (HCQ), which initially was available over the counter — until France made it prescription only.4In Australia, if a doctor attempts to treat a COVID-19 patient with HCQ, they could be put in prison. "Since when does a doctor get put in prison to try to help a patient with a simple generic drug?" McCullough said. In South Africa, he added, a doctor was put in prison for prescribing ivermectin.In August 2020, McCullough's landmark paper "Pathophysiological Basis and Rationale for Early Outpatient Treatment of SARS-CoV-2 Infection" was published online in the American Journal of Medicine.5The follow-up paper is titled "Multifaceted Highly Targeted Sequential Multidrug Treatment of Early Ambulatory High-Risk SARS-CoV-2 Infection (COVID-19)" and was published in Reviews in Cardiovascular Medicine in December 2020.6 It became the basis for the home treatment guide.While some physician organizations have stepped up and are treating COVID-19 patients, "The ivory tower today still is not treating

patients. The party line in my health system is, do not treat a COVID-19 patient as an outpatient. Wait for them to get sick enough to be admitted. Because my health system … follows the National Institutes of Health or the Centers for Disease Control, period." Conditioned to Wait for an Injection With no hope of early treatment, McCullough believes that most people became conditioned to wait for an injection. "We became conditioned, after about May or so, to wear a mask, wait in isolation and be saved by the vaccine. And wait for the vaccine. And all we could hear about is the vaccine."The injections were developed, but they're different than any prior vaccines and have been losing effectiveness while causing an unacceptable number of serious injuries and deaths. For comparison, in 1976, a fast-tracked injection program against swine flu was halted after an estimated 25 to 32 deaths.7According to McCullough in the video, if a new drug comes on the market and five deaths occur, the standard is to issue a black box warning stating the medication may cause death. With 50 deaths, the product is pulled from the market, he says. Now consider this: The Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS) database showed that — for all vaccines combined before 2020 — there were about 158 total deaths reported per year.By January 22, 2021, there were already 182 deaths reported for COVID-19 injections, with just 27.1 million people vaccinated. This was more than enough to reach the mortality signal of concern to stop the program, McCullough said."We've already crossed the line of concern January 22. And if there was a data safety monitoring board — I know, because I do this work — we would have had an emergency meeting and said, wait a minute, people are dying after the vaccine. We've got to figure out why."8It's standard to have an external critical event committee, an external data safety monitoring board and a human ethics committee for large clinical trials — such as the mass COVID-19 injection program, but these were not put into place."This is something we've never seen in human medicine — a new product introduced and just going full-steam ahead with no check on why people are dying after the vaccine," McCullough said. On two occasions, the CDC and FDA — in March and in June — reviewed the data and said none of the deaths are related to the vaccines. "I think this is malfeasance," he stated.Fast-forward to July 30, 2021, and VAERS data showed 12,366 Americans have died after a COVID0-19 injection.9 In an analysis of COVID-19 vaccine death reports from VAERS, researchers found that 86% of the time, nothing else could have caused the death, and it appears the vaccine was the cause.10The Spike Protein Is Dangerous Your body recognizes the spike protein in COVID-19 jabs as foreign, so it begins to manufacture antibodies to protect you against COVID-19, or so the theory goes. But there's a problem. The spike protein itself is dangerous and known to circulate in your body at least for weeks and more likely months11 — perhaps much longer — after the COVID jab.In your cells, the spike protein damages blood vessels and can lead to the development of blood clots.12 It can go into your brain, adrenal glands, ovaries, heart, skeletal muscles and nerves, causing inflammation, scarring and damage in organs over time. McCullough also believes that the spike protein is present in donated blood, and they've notified the Red Cross and the American Association of Blood Banking.Messenger RNA (mRNA) platforms have been under study for years, in most cases being designed to replace a defective gene, which could potentially be used for cancer or heart failure treatment, for example.In November 2020, however, Pfizer, in a joint venture with Germany-based BioNTech, announced that their mRNA-based injection was "more than 90% effective" in a Phase 3 trial.13 This does not mean that 90% of people who get injected will be protected from COVID-19, as it's based on relative risk reduction (RRR).The absolute

risk reduction (ARR) for the jab is less than 1%. "Although the RRR considers only participants who could benefit from the jab, the absolute risk reduction (ARR), which is the difference between attack rates with and without a jab, considers the whole population. ARRs tend to be ignored because they give a much less impressive effect size than RRRs," researchers wrote in The Lancet Microbe in April 2021.14McCullough believes the mass injection campaign is an incredible violation of human ethics, in part because no one should be pressured, coerced or threatened into using an investigational product.No attempts have been made to present or mitigate risks to the public, such as giving it only to people who really need it — not to low risk groups like children and young people and those who are naturally immune to COVID-19 due to prior infection. "I think this is the most disturbing thing," he said.The Injections Don't Stop COVID-19, Can Be Deadly The CDC's Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report (MMWR) posted online July 30, 2021, details an outbreak of COVID-19 that occurred in Barnstable County, Massachusetts — 74% of the cases occurred in fully vaccinated people.15Indiscriminate vaccination is driving mutations, as the virus is mutating wildly to evade the injections. Their effectiveness, too, is rapidly waning. A study published in medRxiv, using data from the Mayo Clinic Health System, revealed that during periods of Alpha and Delta variant prevalence, Moderna's injection was 76% effective while Pfizer's effectiveness was only 42%.16A little-known fact is that Moderna's jab has three times the dose of Pfizer's, but, curiously, health officials aren't even discussing this or giving the public updates on which of the three injections work "best." The narrative is simple and straightforward — get an injection, any injection.Yet, as McCullough noted, the virus has mutated, and the vaccines aren't working the way health officials had hoped: "The vaccines don't stop COVID-19, at least not completely, and they're not a shield against mortality."17Similar to VAERS, the U.K. maintains a "Yellow Card" reporting site to report adverse effects to vaccines and medications.18Tess Lawrie, whose company The Evidence-Based Medicine Consultancy has worked with the World Health Organization, analyzed U.K. Yellow Card data and concluded that there's more than enough evidence to pull the injections from the market because they're not safe for human use. The report stated:19"It is now apparent that these products in the blood stream are toxic to humans. An immediate halt to the vaccination programme is required whilst a full and independent safety analysis is undertaken to investigate the full extent of the harms, which the UK Yellow Card data suggest include thromboembolism, multisystem inflammatory disease, immune suppression, autoimmunity and anaphylaxis, as well as Antibody Dependent Enhancement (ADE)."Early Treatment Is Crucial McCullough is trying to get the word out about the importance of early treatment of COVID-19. Early ambulatory therapy with a sequenced-multidrug regimen is supported by available sources of evidence and has a positive benefit-to-risk profile to reduce the risk of hospitalization and death.At 53:40 in the video, you can view McCullough's early treatment regimen, which initially includes a nutraceutical bundle. While you're recovering at home, open your windows and get plenty of fresh air and ventilation in your home.If symptoms persist or worsen, he recommends calling your doctor and demanding monoclonal antibody therapy. The treatment progresses to include anti-infectives like HCQ or ivermectin, antibiotics, steroids and blood thinners.If your doctor refuses to treat COVID-19 in the early stages, find a new one and/or visit a telemedicine clinic that will help, as "the prehospital phase is the time of therapeutic opportunity."📷McCullough is among a growing number of experts who believe COVID-19 injections are making the pandemic worse. They "have an unfavorable

safety profile and are not clinically effective, thus they cannot be generally supported in clinical practice at this time."Logically, this is clear, but McCullough believes we're dealing with a mass psychosis that is preventing people from seeing the light. "The whole world is in a trance," he said, adding:20"Things are getting disturbingly out of control and it's in the context of the virus. It is clear … we are in a very special time in the history of mankind. Whatever is going on, it is the entire world … every human being in the world. It appears to have a program.The program … is happening to promote as much fear, isolation, suffering, hospitalization and death in order to get a needle in every arm, at all costs. That is what's going on, and no one in this room can disagree."