#i said i went to take my physical

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

My Fathers House [album version] 🤝 Independence Day [Live at the Roxy 1987] 🤝 The River [Live at LA Coliseum 85. the spoken intro that hits like a sledgehammer] [all yt links]

Songs by Bruce Springsteen that make me feel shrimp emotions about Fathers.

[itshomobirb]

2 memories i feel like sharing, & some backstory context: so my ass has been spayed, and healthy people take 6-8 weeks to fully recover from getting spayed. i, chronically ill, took longer. as with any abdominal surgery, they told me "no lifting over 10lb u could tear ur stitches." and for reference, my cats are 12 lb wonders.

so im chilling in bed. ~4 weeks after surgery. and my mother starts SCREAMING my name. like "OH MY GOD BORB COME IN HERE NOW QUICK QUICK HURRY OH GOD." so i do, albeit slowly because, you know, still recovering from major surgery. she's freaking out about one of my cats, who looks entirely normal. oh but he ~suddenly stopped~ and ~twisted his body~ i don't know if he's going to be ok. one mother panic attack and one emergency vet visit later (with my mother's help bc i couldn't lift my cat due to lifting restrictions) : he had flea dirt on his hind legs. he was twisting around to lick around his arse. cool 👍 (ofc my mother, on the ride back from the vet, tried to tell me NOT to give the kids flea meds, she doesn't know what kind of ~health ramifications~ flea meds can have if *gasp* the kids don't actually have fleas)

around the same time period, i get woken up by my mother screaming "HELP HELP HELP!!" the first day it happens, she stops within ~15 seconds, and i hear my parents talking before i fall back asleep. find out later the mechanism for moving the window panels up & down in the bathroom broke, so the top panel had trapped her fingers a la guillotine style. my parents joke "well borb if you hear your mother screaming... her fingers are probably trapped 😂." can you guess what happens next. my father was gone the next day, and guess who got her fingers trapped AGAIN by the bathroom window. so i get woken up by her screaming, and i have to help dislodge the window around her bare naked ass. and sure, i have sympathy because i bet it was really painful. but like. are you fucking stupid. my father had to literally childproof the window by installing a screw so the guillotine panel would catch against the other panel so fingers wouldn't get trapped. just so my mother wouldn't get her fingers trapped again. we all knew that if it wasn't there, she would 1000% get her fingers trapped again. but *im* supposedly the incompetent fuck up that NEEDS to be told exactly what to do just in case i, idk, have an independent thought.

[pharaohbean]

college starts in 1.5hrs and ive already been screwed over by them

for context: the specific way i am doing college atm (its not officially college long story) is that the government/state/whatever pays for everything in my classes except science/language lab fees. this includes textbooks—however, they only pay for the cheapest option. so you have NO idea if you’ll get physical or digital. thats fine by me, i can work with both.

so, lo and behold, i go to find my two textbooks for today (both digital)— and yeah, no, not there.

WHAT HAS HAPPENED IS THAT:

The book they said they’d sent me for one class not only isn’t where they said it would be, but it straight up ISNT THE TEXTBOOK FOR THE CLASS. the textbook for this class is free online, which is also funny to me bc this teacher doesn’t allow electronics in the classroom. like buddy did you expect us to memorize the book wtf

The OTHER textbook they said they’d pay the subscription for for the semester (YES THE BOOK IS LOCKED BEHIND A SUBSCRIPTION THIS IS A CALCULUS CLASS.) is, in fact, not paid for. I have it, but it’s on a 2 week free trial. And you’re thinking, “Zerro, just pay for it!” ITS A HUNDRED AND THIRTY DOLLARS ARE YOU NUTS?! NOT WHEN THEYRE SUPPOSED TO PAY THAT!

So NOW, I have to figure out how they’re supposed to pay for the latter textbook (because the former is straight up wrong anyways) while also just straight up not knowing how these classes even WORK (the calc class… has discussion forums required. What The F—) and yeah college is going GREAT.

[regular-lord-reckoner]

i’m home !!

procedure went real well, everything was really smooth and almost as soon as they said, “you can count backwards if you want,” i don’t think i even said ten before i was suddenly in recovery and sipping some ginger ale.

honestly the worst part was the iv because they had to do it on the side of my wrist because apparently my veins are crooked ?? i just hate ivs anyway so that’s no surprise but other than that no complaints.

everyone was real nice and made sure i was well taken care of (my nurse even had me pee one more time before so she wouldn’t have to do a catheter which with my history…..thank you)

but yeah, i’ll have a follow up in about a month just to make sure everything’s good and the iud is doing its thing !!

i do have some cramping and bleeding but that’s normal, although a little funny because i literally just stopped my period yesterday but…oh well !! hopefully in a few months i won’t have hardly any so this we can handle and i hace some medicine (and my ~medicine) that’ll help so i’m all set.

mom had to go run some errands so my little recovery buddy is keeping me company. also, a moment of recognition for my new favorite shirt (thank you as always, Boss Dog Art; i’ve already got my eye on another one that says, “i think therefore i am against transphobia around the world” or something like that and it’s got a cool skeleton on it; this is my third shirt from them and they’re really comfy and good quality so not sponsored but check them out, they seem cool):

[cryolyst]

~

[vampmilf]

hold on im still too mad at this one fucking guest to take a nap i need to be a hater for a minute

[acebytaemin]

it’s 1.18 am and i can’t sleep bc there’s a thunderstorm and i’m scared of them like a big loser so. don’t hold me accountable for my thoughts and feelings but

[smile-files]

today i'm going home so i can get my flu shot and vote with my family... hopefully both go well

[cuntwrap--supreme]

My dog has been having senior moments, such as randomly forgetting what she's doing or trying to walk into a street, and I've been calling her "Mr. President" when it happens.

Like, "No, Mr. President, we can't walk into oncoming traffic. That's how we get killed!"

[gatheryepens]

So I’m like 99.1% going to quit my job

[dirt-str1der]

Trans kiryu is a genuinely funny hc because like trans majima is like oohh angst ohh she has to fight to be accepted she has to deal with people making fun of her for being a man in a dress she has to take into account her position and social standing and kiryu is literally just kiryu forever because the universe loves him too much to ever force him into a situation unless its to go to prison in which case hes like yayyy i love jail yayy yayyy

[taylorpixiedust]

me, existing:

my insurance, suddenly: hey do you want to track down the dude who gave you a severe concussion that’s still hurting you to try and get him to reimburse your medical bills

me: bro that was in high school. and an accident. we were playing dodgeball.

insurance: you were a minor and also dodgeballs are. not that big. dude had to be throwing it awfully fast to cause a concussion

me:

me, overthinking: ok. time to bed

[fakemiya]

[angelstrawbabie420]

this feels so insanely weird

[sidras-tak]

Accessibility takes too goddamn fucking long.

My brother was paralyzed in October 2023. We got him home from the hospital (in Texas, when we live in Iowa) in a clunky old hospital chair. He hated it. He was scared and angry and in pain and his life had just changed forever and he couldn’t do anything for himself in that wheelchair. His first goal (aside from learning how to transfer) was to get a wheelchair. My family was lucky enough to afford one so we thought it would be easy enough. Nope.

We couldn’t buy him a wheelchair. He needed a prescription. For a wheelchair. A doctor had to examine him and declare him in need of a wheelchair. It wasn’t good enough that he had scans and tests showing tumors cutting off his spinal cord. He needed his primary care doctor to examine him during a physical and write a prescription. He was making 2-4 transfers a day, tops. He had no energy to get to a doctor. Home health was in and out every day. He had no time to get to a doctor. He didn’t get a prescription for almost a month. Then it had to go through insurance.

We asked if we could skip insurance and just buy a wheelchair for him. Nope. They wouldn’t sell us one, not even at full sticker price. It needed to be approved by Medicare. We ordered a wheelchair, a nice one, a good shade of green, sporty, small. It would let him move around the house. He would be able to cook, to reach drawers and get stuff from the fridge and brush his teeth and put his contacts in at a sink. We were told it would take awhile, maybe two months. Silently we all hoped he would be around to see two more months.

He went on hospice care on a Saturday in March. On Monday, I was calling his friends to come see him before he died. I got a call on his phone. It was the wheelchair company. They were about to order his wheelchair, she said, but there was an issue with insurance— had he stopped being covered by Medicare? Well, yes. When he started hospice care, he got kicked off Medicare. The very nice woman I talked to told me to call her if he resumed Medicare coverage so she could order his wheelchair. He died less than 12 hours later.

We ordered that chair for him in early December. Medicare didn’t approve the order until March. He was dead before they got around to it. He wanted that fucking wheelchair so badly. The only reason he had any semblance of independence and any quality of life for the last five months of his life was because the wheelchair company lent him an old beater chair, a very used model of the chair he ordered. If I could go back and change one thing about his end-of-life, I would get him his dream wheelchair. He told me again and again he couldn’t wait to get it, so that he could feel like a person again. He made the best of what he had with that old beater chair, but it still makes me mad to this day. He was paralyzed. He needed a chair that afforded him dignity. We had the money for it. And yet, we were left waiting for five months, for a chair that wouldn’t even get ordered until the day he died.

[ratatatastic]

you know i think a lot about ekky taking forsy deepsea fishing