#i was getting constant headaches and brain fog

[itistimetodisappear]

Ok so if you get regular periods you should *probably* be taking iron supplements.

[kilgrvc]

Can I steal K.ilgrave's powers for just one (1) second so I can tell my bosses to give me a break please and thank you.

[the-bi-space-ace]

Been thinking about Echo & Wrecker lately

I think after joining the batch Echo has to adapt to taking daily medications because I’m projecting for things like chronic pain or other underlying conditions because of his treatment on Skako. This is already an adjustment. Going from not needing any daily medications to needing daily medications is hard enough. What’s worse is that some of the new meds make him nauseous or light headed or even give him brain fog.

For the first two weeks after the new meds he can barely keep food down, has constant headaches, and gets dizzy often. It’s a hard adjustment period. He’s moving so fast, jumping back into solid foods, and a bunch of new medications on top of that. It’s difficult and scary and he’s frustrated.

That’s where Wrecker comes in.

I think Wrecker also has chronic pain because of the accident that gave him his scars and made him blind in one eye. I think he’s taken a few different types of medication and has gone through the same adjustment period and when he notices Echo getting frustrated with the change in his daily life Wrecker gives him some helpful tips.

He decorates a pill organizer that looks just like his. He makes it complimentary so they’re matching but can still easily tell their pills apart. He even takes his at the same time of day Echo takes them so they never forget because they’re on the same schedule. Echo isn’t too sure why Wrecker took the time to decorate a pill organizer for him but he loves it and uses it every day.

Echo often gets nauseous but also lightheaded since he isn’t eating enough. Wrecker starts sharing his snacks with Echo which include a lot of fruit. Not only does it contain sugar which helps with the lightheadedness but fruit is easy on your stomach and it’s incredibly hydrating. watermelon especially, which they try to keep on hand.

Wrecker had to do physical therapy too so he teaches Echo how to work up more muscle and then treat the sore ones. They both experience muscle pains so Wrecker shows Echo how to alleviate some of it with cool downs after missions. They have a whole routine together.

With all the kindness Wrecker has shown him Echo wants to do something in return so he learns several different massage techniques to help with Wrecker’s muscle strain. He adapts them to work with one hand and has helped Wrecker get out so many knots.

Echo even sets timers for snacks throughout the day between regular meals to help stave off how starved Wrecker feels on a daily basis. It’s not perfect but he finds every two hours when they can manage it is the sweet spot. If he has even a little bit of food then Wrecker’s stomach feels better and he can feel less nauseous on bad days. Handful of crackers, some fruit, a chocolate bar. Anything. Echo keeps snacks on hand for his and Wrecker’s ‘Snack Attack’.

[joicecubes]

been thinking about the ways fiddleford and stan would force each other to take care of themselves. like, in the days they would hypothetically spend working together to try and get ford back.

fiddleford, being both a scientist and tirelessly devoted to ford, is probably a massive workaholic. he forgets to eat, forgets to drink water, complains about a “poundin’ headache” and ponders out loud what kind of pill he should take to tide it over until he can finish what he’s working on. stan, also terrible at taking care of himself but with a few working brain cells he uses for something OTHER than complex math equations, is the one who asks him when the last time was that he drank water instead of coffee. and it’s only then that fiddleford is bullied into taking a brain break. stan threatens to rip up his papers if he doesn’t go down a glass of water right now and fiddleford would rather die than see stan follow through on that promise. even though he would never. they’re both too committed to their mission. but truthfully, its the thought that counts, and fiddleford breaks past his brain fog with that first sip of water while smiling into his glass.

similarly, stan isn’t really used to having food and a roof over his head, much less a constant supply of running water. the guy probably forgets to shower, that or he just feels too hopeless to care. not to mention the way his hair has grown out so much that he struggles to take care of it, to brush it, to wash it. i wonder if it would be fiddleford in this timeline who first cuts his hair to get that matted mullet off his neck. and i wonder if stan finds himself close to tears when that weight’s off his shoulders. maybe fiddleford would help wash the remainder, and stan would joke about feeling like he’s in some old barbershop for the first time since he was a teenager. its hard to joke after that, when he gets choked up with the tragedy and intimacy of it all, but the silence is ambience enough for fiddleford to finish shampooing. and he tells him afterwards that he looks like a new man.

[salty-autistic-writer]

Part Of The Family Summary: Tommy is recovering from a concussion. Buck creates a schedule to ensure he won't be alone. Tommy learns what it means to be part of the family. ~

Concussions are a buzzkill.

It’s not Tommy’s first one. But it’s definitely the worst he’s ever had.

They were fighting a fierce structure fire and he didn't see the danger coming until it was too late. Tommy vaguely remembers someone calling out his name in warning, before something connected with the back of his head in a very sudden and very painful way. Apparently, the culprit was a heavy piece of debris. Heavy enough that his helmet didn't make much of a difference. After the impact, Tommy found himself on the ground, stars appearing in front of his eyes. Someone helped him out of the building and almost immediately, a headache crept in and stayed. It’s still there now. A constant pulsing ache.

Tommy doesn’t even remember how he got to the hospital.

But now he’s in a bed, with his head stitched and bandaged, and a doctor is there to tell him something about several tests they ran. Fortunately, they didn’t find any swelling or bleeding in his brain. 

The doctor says more, but Tommy can’t focus anymore. Everything is too bright and too loud. Everything hurts. His head is heavy and his floaty thoughts seem to hit an invisible wall whenever he tries to form them into something coherent. Feels like his mind is filled with fog. Tommy just wants to close his eyes and go to sleep. But then, Evan appears in the room and Tommy’s mood brightens immediately. Evan is like the sun, pushing through the clouds inside his mind.

“Ev,” he croaks, raising his hands and reaching for his boyfriend. 

Evan looks worried. Why does he look worried? It makes Tommy feel concerned too. Oh. Right. Tommy is injured and in a hospital bed. That’s why.

“Hit my head,” Tommy tells Evan, pointing up to that aching pulsing thing that must be said head.

“I can see that,” Evan says softly, hugging him and exhaling shakily. “I’m so glad to see you awake. You will be alright.”

Tommy frowns. Has he not been awake at some point? He really can't remember. “Can we go home now?” He asks hopefully.

He doesn’t want to stay at the hospital. Not again. 

Evan studies him, his brows furrowing. “I don’t know. You don’t look … well. And you can barely keep yourself upright. Maybe you should stay here at least for overnight …”

Tommy starts to shake his head, then immediately stops because it hurts too much. “No. Please.”

Evan chews on his lip. “Alright. Let me talk to the doctor.”

The doctor doesn’t approve. He says Tommy should be under observation for at least 24 hours. But Evan tells him he can do that at home. The doctor sighs and asks Tommy if he can get out of bed without any help.

Tommy can. At least he thinks he can. He can see that they are both watching him. It feels like a test, so he does his best to get himself out of the bed. Everything is fine until he tries to stand. A wave of dizziness and nausea hit him. The world sways. Feels like flying a helicopter through a hurricane. Tommy grimaces and reaches out for something to hold on to. He finds Evan’s shoulder, which is solid enough. There. He's standing. He can do it.

The doctor raises a doubtful brow and clears his throat. “I still wouldn’t recommend you to go home, but in the end, I can’t force you to stay. Just let me explain some important things you should think of concerning this concussion and the next few days of your recovery.”

It’s Evan, who listens to the doctor. Tommy just tries to not fall. Evan stands there, with his hands on his hips, nodding along with a very serious expression on his face, clearly memorizing everything the doctor is telling him. 

Tommy looks at his boyfriend, his chest glowing with happiness. God. Evan looks so good. Oh. Did Tommy say that out loud? Because Evan and the doctor fall silent for a moment and throw him a glance, before continuing talking. Huh.

“He definitely shouldn’t be alone tonight,” the doctor finishes with a sigh that seems to say: I'm done with stubborn firefighters for the day.

“He won’t be,” Evan says firmly. “In fact, he won’t be alone at all. Not until he’s doing better.”

Tommy frowns. What is that supposed to mean? He immediately forgets about the words again though because it’s hard enough to follow Evan out of the hospital. He holds on to Evan’s arm with one hand, squinting his eyes and keeping his head down, since the lights only seem to turn brighter around him. 

The car ride is a nightmare too. He has to close his eyes for the entirety of it because every time he sees a glimpse of the moving world, he’s hit by a wave of violent nausea. A groan escapes his lips and Evan puts his free hand on one of Tommy’s, holding it. An anchor in this stormy ocean that throws him around. Tommy holds on to it as firmly as he can.

It’s a relief when they finally arrive home. Evan has to support him the few steps to and into the house.

“Bed,” Evan says sternly as soon as the door closes behind them. “Right now.”

Tommy doesn’t protest. He’s glad when he can finally lie down. When the world stops moving and he doesn’t feel like he’s the captain of a ship that has to navigate through a storm. He closes his eyes and grimaces when dizziness is replaced by pain. It starts in the back of his head and stretches until it’s everywhere.

“Hurts,” he mutters.

Evan’s fingers run through his hair. Slow and gentle. “The doctor said you can have some Tylenol. And I’m going to make you a cold compress, alright?”

Tommy just hums, sinking into the comfort of being touched. It feels nice not to be alone. The last time he returned from hospital he was alone. Soon enough he’s had a few pills and has a cold towel on his forehead. The pain slowly fades into a numb pulsing. Tommy feels pleasantly floaty, especially with Evan’s warm body beside him. Eventually, he falls asleep.

The next morning, Tommy feels a little better. Still foggy and dizzy, but at least he can think clearly and string words together again. His symptoms didn’t get worse which means he doesn’t have to go to the hospital again. He’s glad. He hates the hospital with its flickering neon lights, squeaking plastic shoes, horrible food and never-ending surprise visits by nurses or doctors.

This situation has its ups and downs. The upside: He can stay at home, where he has his own bed, his own food, his privacy and, most importantly, his Evan.

The downside: He has to stay home all the time and do nothing that might risk him falling and injuring himself further or tearing any stitches. 

For at least 48 hours, he will be bound to his bed. And he will be trapped in his house for almost a week. No exercise. Not even a walk. Also, he shouldn't be doing anything that requires concentration, like video games, watching TV, reading, texting or using a computer if it worsens his symptoms.

Evan stays with him for the first 24 hours, making sure he’s not getting any worse or exerting himself too much. But after that, he has to go to work.

And suddenly, Tommy is alone. He tries to look at a few videos on his phone but that makes him nauseous after a while. Watching TV is making him nauseous as well. He ends up back in his bed, on his back, staring up at the ceiling while his head is pulsing and pain and hating everything. How is he supposed to spend almost a whole week like this?!

A knock at the door - a very enthusiastic one - interrupts his depressive thoughts. Tommy frowns. He isn’t expecting anyone. And he doesn’t look very presentable either. Maybe it’s just the postman. He gets up with a grimace, dizziness making him sway and he has to catch his balance before he can walk slowly - very slowly - to the door and open it. He blinks in surprise. It’s Maddie. With Jee-Yun. “Hey,” Maddie says, smiling at him. “I brought cake. I heard it’s a good sweet cheer up in case of head injuries.” “Oh. Thank you,” Tommy says, accepting the box she hands him.

Jee is holding on to her mother’s hand, with her free hand she points at Tommy’s head and says, “Ouchie”, her eyes widening. “Yeah. Big ouchie,” Tommy says, touching the bandage wrapped around his head. "But I will be fine."

“How are you feeling?” Maddie asks while they’re slowly walking into the living room. Jee stays close to Maddie’s leg, her fingers brushing against her mother’s pants as she looks around a bit shyly. Tommy shrugs. “Dizzy and nauseous, but the pain is a little better today. I have a feeling that this piece of debris really wanted me to remember it.”

“Well, we are here to distract you a little from it,” Maddie says with a chuckle. They sit on the couch and Maddie pulls several things out of her bag. A colouring pad and pencils. A plush elephant. And a few small bottles of nail polish. Jee climbs on the couch and looks at all the things Maddie has brought as if she’s trying to make a very hard choice. Finally, she points at the nail polish. Then at Tommy, her expression serious. Maddie chuckles. “Jee painted my and Howie’s nails so often, I think she needs a new model.”

“And I even get to choose the colour,” Tommy says when Jee presents him with three different options. He chooses blue.

It’s relaxing. He just has to sit there and hold still. Jee is very focused. The tip of her tongue is visible between her lips as she paints his short nails with the tiny brush. While she’s working, Maddie and Tommy talk. She tells him about what's going on at the dispatch centre and asks him about what he's doing at Harbor Station which leads to him telling her about some of the more interesting calls. She also asks him if he's always wanted to be a pilot and he ends up telling her a bit about his past. She listens attentively.

When Jee-Yun is finished with Tommy's nails, she shows him that he has to shake out his hands to let the paint dry and he does it with her, chuckling.

“Should I paint your nails now?” Tommy asks Jee. She beams at him and laughs, holding out her small hands.

It’s a bit difficult. From time to time, Tommy is still hit by a wave of dizziness and focusing sometimes leads to double vision. But Jee holds perfectly still, even when he has to take a break.

“Et voila,” Tommy says when he’s done. Jee inspects her now purple nails and gives him a bright, tooth-missing grin.

Maddie smiles. “Very pretty.”

They all eat a piece of the cake Maddie brought. Soon, Jee is yawning and rubbing at her eyes. “Guess I will take her home now for her nap,” Maddie says. “I hope you will feel even better tomorrow.”

“Thanks for coming by and thanks for distracting me. Now I have my pretty nails to look at when I don't feel so good,” Tommy says, smiling at Jee-Yun, who waves him bye, not so shy anymore, and follows her mother out.

Soon after Maddie and Jee leave, there is a knock at the door again. Tommy raises his brows. He opens. This time, it’s Karen with Denny and Mara. “Hi,” she beams at him, raising two plastic bags. “I brought dinner. Buck said you like Chinese?” “I love Chinese,” Tommy says with a smile, letting them inside.

Hen and Evan join them later, marvelling at Tommy’s nails. They’re all playing a game of Monopoly later and everyone is laughing at Tommy because he constantly manages to land in prison while Denny somehow builds enough houses to make them all go bankrupt.

Later, Tommy is a little exhausted but he also realizes he barely noticed his head for a long time. He remembers Evan’s comment on how he won’t be alone at all, and he thinks he understands now. Evan must have made a schedule, determining who is going to visit Tommy when.

And it’s just the beginning.

Every time Tommy starts to feel antsy over the next few days, there’s a knock at the door and every time he opens it, it’s a member of the 118 family. He always has someone sitting on his couch.

~

Ravi brings cookies and wants to know a lot of things about flying. 

He asks so many questions that Tommy is wondering if he is considering a career as a pilot. Or maybe he’s just as fascinated as most people are. For a lot of people, flying is a mystery. To them, it seems like magic, when it’s actually physics.

How can a heavy plane or helicopter stay in the sky? How does it get into the air at all? How does it move forward? “That’s so cool, man,” Ravi says after a while, taking a bite from his cookie. “For the first time ever, I really understand why a plane manages to fly.” “Are you thinking about flying a helicopter or plane in the future?” Tommy asks, intrigued. Ravi looks taken aback for a moment, then clears his throat and looks a little … embarrassed. “To be honest, I have a fear of flying.” “Oh.” Tommy didn’t expect that. But it’s not unusual. Many people have a fear of flying. He doesn’t know what it feels like, but people he knew told him how uncomfortable they feel while being on a plane. Tommy guesses it’s the same thing as with sharks. Media makes flying look like something risky and highly dangerous because every time something does happen, it’s all over the news and people who have no idea about the science behind flying share their wrong opinions.

Ravi grimaces and scratches the back of his head. “Yeah. I kind of inhabited it from my family. Constantly had to listen about how dangerous flying is in general and that I shouldn’t ever enter a plane. Theoretically, I know it’s not dangerous. But my mind is not that convinced. And now I know you, and you’re flying all the time and I thought it might be a good idea to learn a little more about it from someone who is a professional, you know?” Tommy clears his throat, feeling a little embarrassed now. “I don’t know if I would call myself a professional …” Ravi raises a brow. “Please. You flew a helicopter into a hurricane and landed it on a capsized ship. Buck couldn't shut up about it for an entire week. After a while, I almost felt like I was there."

Tommy chuckles. “Ok. You have a point. Well, if you want to, I can always take you on a flight once I recover from this concussion, to show you how everything works and why it’s not dangerous. That might help with your fear. Someone once told me we have to do the things that scare us to show our mind that nothing happens.”

“That’s awesome, thank you,” Ravi says with a bright smile. “I’m absolutely going to take you up on that offer!”

When Ravi leaves, Bobby and Athena arrive with lasagna. It's so delicious Tommy kind of never wants to eat anything else ever again. While they're eating, Bobby remembers a few crazy calls they had back when Tommy was still part of the 118 and they all laugh about them. Especially about Maurice. "Can't believe the first thing I did was handing you a traumatized rooster which tried to kill us all," Bobby says, reaching for Athena's hand and squeezing it. She smiles and they look at each other so fondly ... Tommy's heart warms for them and he's so glad Howie called him back then. He still remembers how worried he was when he heard that Bobby and Athena were missing. And he remembers the moment when he saw them hugging. When he was so relieved that he had flown into that hurricane and that they had found them. And of course, he remembers Evan's hand suddenly touching his shoulder, remembers Evan's smile and his bright eyes. The moment that made his breath hitch and his heart jump.

It's a little crazy, Tommy thinks, how much impact Bobby had on his life. Bobby was the one suggesting the transfer to Harbor because he believed Tommy needed a fresh start. (And he was right about that.) It was Bobby who gave Evan a second chance at the 118. And it was Bobby - plus Athena - who needed a rescue and made Tommy meet the love of his life that way. Sometimes, the world seems incredibly small and it feels like we're all connected by invisible strings, Tommy muses, taking another bite of the amazing lasagna. ~ “No,” Christopher says patiently. “You have to press this button to jump. Not that one.”

Tommy feels old. So old. He keeps on dying. And every time he does, Chris gives him advice on how he can avoid dying the next time. But Tommy keeps messing it up. The video game is too fast for him. And the little figure on the screen never really does what he wants it to do. “I’m really bad at this,” Tommy sighs, looking at the screen where another “you died” appears. In big red letters. Great.

“You can’t be the best at everything,” Chris says seriously.

“True,” Tommy says, putting the controller down. “Come on. It’s your turn. Let me watch the professional.”

Chris chuckles. “Okay.”

He easily jumps over all the obstacles and eliminates all the threats his little figure encounters while running through a pixeled world in search of … Tommy doesn’t really understand what the goal of this game is. But well. He leans back on the couch and watches. His head got a lot better. The screen’s light doesn’t give him a headache anymore and the dizziness as well as the nausea are almost gone.

In the evening, Eddie and Evan arrive with food and Eddie thanks Tommy for watching Chris. “Are you sure he didn’t watch me?” Tommy asks with a glance at Evan, who sits on the couch with Chris, trying the video game too and being way better at it than Tommy. Eddie just laughs and hands him a hamburger. ~

Anxiety and insecurity hit Tommy the next day when he’s watching a movie with Howie and - because he’s taking meds - not having a beer like usual, but instead tea, which Howie made.

The week passed so fast because he’s never really been alone. And it’s been so nice to have all of them there. Still. There’s a part of him that isn’t entirely sure about all of this. A part of him tries to convince him that they are only here out of pity. Or because Evan told them to come. Not because they really care about him.

“Y’all don’t have to do that, you know?” He says, glancing at Howie. “Being here. It’s not like I can’t take care of myself.”

Howie takes a sip of his tea. “Tommy, we all want to be here. Trust me. Buck insisted on making a schedule, because, well you know what he’s like when he gets a chance to go full clipboard mode, but we all would be here anyway because you’re family. And we take care of family.”

Howie’s words make warmth spread in Tommy’s chest. “Alright,” he says, his throat a little tight now. “Thank you.”

“Not for that, man. But please. Be a little more careful with that head of yours in the future. Because I can only stand Evan 'my boyfriend is injured and we’re all going to take care he won’t do even more damage to himself' Buckley one time in a year," Howie says with a feigned pitiful expression on his face.

That makes Tommy laugh.

~

Tommy wakes up in fractions, blinking into the sunlight. Evan’s face is hovering above him, a smile spreading on it, as he looks down on Tommy, with his head tilted to the side and his hair still tousled. “Hey.” “Hey,” Tommy breathes, smiling sleepily. It’s the weekend and this is his favourite way of waking up.

“How is that pretty head of yours today?” Evan asks, running his fingers through Tommy’s hair. The bandage is gone now. “Better,” Tommy says honestly. “Barely feeling it anymore.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” Evan says, kissing Tommy’s forehead.

“Whose turn is it today by the way?” Tommy asks teasingly. Evan chuckles. “Only me today.”

“Good,” Tommy says, wrapping his arms around Evan’s body with a content sigh, enjoying the warmth and the morning softness. “As nice as it’s been to have everyone around, I’m happy when I get to have you all for myself." 

Evan smiles. “You know, they all were worried and wanted to be there for you while you were recovering, but I also think they loved the chance to get to know you a little better.”

Tommy thinks back to what Howie said and for the first time, he can allow himself to accept that he’s a part of this family now.

[rachhaven]

I’ve made the executive decision that we need more endo fics!!! (Specifically marauders and Spencer Reid but they’re my babies so I’m biased!) not jsut the run of the mill “endo is a heavy period” bs, the other shit that doesn’t get spoken about- shooting leg pain, brain fog, constant fatigue, aches and pains and headaches so bad lights hurt. It’s not jsut a heavy period, and it can happen even when you’re on the pill (much like I am!) the pill only stops the bleeding for some, not the pain, and the frustration of wanting to be okay and normal again, not knowing if you’re gonna wake up the next day in more pain or if it’s gonna be a good day. I need the comfort 😭

[sebsreflection]

Once again, non-shifting related, but important.

TW: Talk of suicidal ideation, suicide, mental health issues, etc.

I feel we should talk about the mental side/battle of things when you’re chronically ill and/or disabled, especially when young.

I am. And I also have mental illnesses. Sometimes my chronic illness and disability adds onto that and exacerbates it.

And sometimes those that newly develop chronic illnesses and/or disabilities start to have mental illnesses solely because of it.

THAT should be your first sign as to how largely it can affect one mentally and emotionally.

When I was in a big flare back in August of 2024 that lasted until around January or February of this year, where I had to use a wheelchair, constantly had to use my mobility aids, where all of my symptoms even limited me from doing small things like turn my head around to face someone or get up to eat food every single day, I remember laying there in my bed and thinking: “I want to die.”

I didn’t know when it would end. IF it would end.

I have a baseline of symptoms, of pain, of disability. But when I’m in flares, and particularly during that one, everything is so unpredictable and I don’t know when something will end and if it may or may not become my new baseline.

I was so worried (during that flare) that I wouldn’t ever go back to my baseline, that I would be stuck like that, and if it did come to be that way, I knew I couldn’t live like that.

Chronic illness and disability can and does KILL people, not only for some of its dangerous physical consequences, but also due to suicide based off of hopelessness, loss of control in one’s life, and being in constant pain and many other things.

And that’s not even just for flares. Living even as baseline disables people and causes suffering to every day life; and if you are a young chronically ill/disabled person, there are certain expectations that one has at that age, to be able to go to school, go out with friends, go shopping, even focus on the things you love. And we can’t. And that feels like we’re wasting our lives, that we will never live, that we will never have our young years.

So many of us struggle to keep friendships and relationships too due to our chronic illness/disability because of its symptoms. And that creates even more loneliness for us, and missing out on things that we should be doing at our ages.

I know no able-bodied person can truly understand how impactful these things are, but think about any injury you’ve had, any sickness, anything like that.

You’ve broken your leg and have to use crutches? Think about that every day with no cure, no determined date for when it’ll go back to your norm.

You’ve got COVID or the flu or a cold? Think about that every single day. All that ickiness, sore throat, brain fog, fatigue, muscle aches, nausea, diarrhea, fever, chills, hot flashes, so on. Every. Single. Day.

Don’t just think of it for a second and move on. Put down your phone, remember as clearly as possible how you felt during it, and IMAGINE that with no ending.

That’s what it’s like. That’s an inkling of what it can be like. And there are even more chronic illnesses and disabilities with even more symptoms than those.

I’d be here all day just naming the ones I have, and no, I don’t get a break, I get it every day.

Nausea, constipation, diarrhea, pain, partial dislocations, fatigue (no, not just tiredness, it’s that feeling where you’ve been awake for 24+ hours and there’s no nap in sight), brain fog, words slurring, poor motor control, dizziness, increased heart rate for normal activities (130+), headaches, too much mucus, muscle spasms, hot flashes, chills, SO MUCH MORE.

That’s just a little peak into my day to day life. It’s been years. Since I was around 7 that it has started, but that’s just as far back as I can remember ANYTHING, so who knows.

I feel horrible all of the time, no breaks.

And this disables me, and makes it hard to be in relationships and friendships. It makes it hard to keep jobs. It makes it hard for me to enjoy the things I love. It makes it hard for me to go out to multiple places in one day. A little trip to the grocery store has me tired for a few days to a week.

And it is so lonely. It is so awful to have the ability to do regular things that I SHOULD be able to do at my 17 years of age. And I know I won’t be able to do this or that when I’m older. I’ll have to do everything with accommodations, and even have to pass on A LOT of stuff because there’s no way to make it accessible.

And sometimes I wanna die because of that. Sometimes I can’t see the point of living if it means eternal pain and all these thousand other symptoms and endless doctor appointments trying to figure things out and manage new symptoms and old ones that can finally be treated because they’re “bad enough now”. And I feel a lot of my chronically ill and disabled pals feel the same a little too often.

Check up on your chronically ill and disabled friends or partners or family members, if you have any. They are never doing okay physically, and I bet my ass mentally or emotionally they’re going through it 90% of the time too.

[florarosae-archived]

So… lately I haven’t been feeling too good. Been having constant headaches and heavy brain fog so I wasn’t really able to focus on longer threads. I still got quite a lot to get to, but for now I’ll be focusing on small stuff. I’m gonna get everything checked out tomorrow and I’ll also have a MRI done in a week or two and quite frankly I’m kind of worried about my health— I’ll still be replying to longer stuff, but please keep in mind that it’ll take me longer, at least until all of this is back to normal.

[unheavenlycreatures]

hhhhhhhhhhhhh chronic illness venting shit under cut

omg we loveeee complaining about our body its amazing its my favorite <3

anyways. i am so fucking tired of having cEDS. i'm so tired all the time. i'm in so much pain all the time. i can never catch a fucking break.

earlier, i was just having a nice time talking with my partner when i suddenly felt something pop in my head and i collapsed onto my desk. no headache, no slurred speech, no numbness, just down. i'm terrified of brain aneurysms literally all the time--I know I'm at higher risk for them because all of my fucking everything is stretchy and fragile.

turns out, i managed to pop my occipital junction. per my mom, it's a thing that happens pretty often with EDS i've just managed to avoid thus far--you just pop the bone holding up your head. no big deal. i'm still dizzy, but i am wholly uncertain if it's because of the occipital pop or the hour long panic attack because i had no idea if i was dying.

because i don't know! i don't know what can kill me! i'm in pain literally constantly! i don't know what the normal amount of pain is! is this a life threatening medical emergency? or is it just a new and annoying symptom to add to the list? how do i tell the difference?

and i'm constantly finding new things wrong with me. my ribs pop out of place. my hips pop out of place. my fingers. my shoulders. my knees. constant abdominal pain. constant bleeding--there is never a time where i am not bleeding from SOMEWHERE. i have to be so careful handling paperwork for my job because if something tears, i'm bleeding all over these important forms, or my keyboard, or a coworker--so many times i've been mid conversation and looked and oh, oops, looks like i bumped my arm into something, grab me the wound kit i'm making a mess :) i'm covered head to toe in scars with no stories behind them. and that's just the external shit. until i went on my new meds a couple months ago, i was constantly at risk of going into hypovolemic shock due to the fact that i was passing palm sized blood clots every single fucking day for months.

sitting hurts. standing hurts. walking hurts, with or without a cane. lying down hurts. looking at screens hurts. reading books hurts. eating hurts! showering! having sex! playing a video game! holding a pencil! being hugged! driving! sleeping! breathing!

and i can barely process it half the time, because my fucking chiari malformation gave me a brain injury, so the fog and the buzzing is so so so high, and i have the fucking migraines, and hallucinations, not to mention all of the fucking. hand wave motion system shit my therapist is trying to help me ignore or otherwise deal with. and my immune system is fucked, and i never know if my MCAS is going to act up and give me a reaction to something, and i get sick so easy, and i'm slowly going blind in one eye for some reason, and my short term memory is fucked, and every time i get pneumonia my lungs are fucked even worse, and i just

i could handle it! i could, really! i'm functional (ish) most of the time! but i can't physically show I'm in pain, or people get weird about it! and i'm scared all the time! because i have no idea how long i have! i get so scared that my fucking hair falls out, and i feel sick, and the sickness makes it worse, and i can't manage my health anxiety because the chances of something actually being very wrong are so much higher for me than other people and if i'm not careful or if i don't pay attention it could be lights out and i just

im so tired

i wish i didnt have this. i wish my body worked. i wish i could do the things i love. i wish i could hold a thought in my head long enough to write right now. i wish i could go outside. i wish i could dance again. i wish i could sing with my whole chest. i wish i could try new things. travel. read. sit in the sunshine. talk about my daily life without having to add disclaimers that, actually, this is what a good day looks like.

and i'm so grateful to be alive. i didn't used to be. a lot of my life has been spent so miserable that i couldn't even comprehend what a life where i feel fulfilled looks like. now i wake up in the morning and i'm grateful for every day, even the bad ones--in part because I have no idea how many I have left. and i have people who love me and understand when i can't push through the pain to make things happen. and when i die, i wont have any regrets for how i lived, and what the experience of being me was like.

but there's so much more to experience and know. and i grieve so much that i'm going to miss out on a lot of it because my body is collapsing underneath me. and there is no version of me that isn't sick, and it doesn't helo anything to dream about what that person would look like.

but still.

[kitsunesakii]

The Gala

This one's a long one, enjoy :)

Chapter eight

"This Friday I expect all of you to attend the Institute's annual Investors appreciation ceremony."

"The Institute's annual investors appreciation ceremony? Come on boss, that's a bit excessive." Tim joked, bumping lightly into Jon who scowled at him, bristling like a cat.

Elias shook his head and smiled wryly. "I know the name needs some improvements but more importantly to note is that it's the time to meet some of our most charitable donors and generous sponsors. It's from 6 to 11 and I'd appreciate it if you all attended. Its formal attire. Drinks and hors d'oeuvre will be served. Now I know it's been an interesting couple of months but I'm hopeful that you can all take this opportunity to relax a little as well as meet some of the characters that make this place run, therefore, you are all welcome to bring a plus one as long as they follow the dress code."

"So basically a Gala." Tim said, his smile expanding.

"-If it's to promote the donors then why are we obliged to attend?" Jon cut in, punctuating the words with an exasperated sigh.

"Because, Jon, you and your team are a part of why they donate to our cause and they deserve to know who they're supporting."

Martin nodded absently and Tim looked overly delighted. Sasha glanced at Jon before nodding as well.

Sasha finally left the institute only for Tim to hook his arm in hers and pull her out onto the sidewalk, a wicked smile on his face.

"So" Tim started, "Who are you gonna invite?"

Sasha allowed him to pull her towards a nearby restaurant. "Probably no one, I'll just hover with you all."

"Right, yes that sounds like a ton of fun." Tim hummed lightly, still grinning. "I know who you should invite."

"No."

"You should invite your new friend."

"No."

"Yeah, and you should 100% get him to make a scene."

"Tim."

"And you should get him to come over and make me look cool in front of my date."

"He's not a showpiece."

"See! You're defending him, that means something."

Sasha laughed. "That doesn't mean anything. And I doubt he's interested in hanging around for some boring ceremony."

"Gala." Tim corrected, "and I feel he's the type of character to appreciate the opportunity to induce everyone in a headache. Hell he'd probably enjoy coming just to annoy Jon. Then we'd all have a show."

Sasha rolled her eyes. "You are insane."

"Of course there is a much simpler reason to invite him." Tim continued, paying her no mind.

Sasha sighed as they took seats outside a cafe, some pop singer that Sasha didn't recognize playing on speakers above them.

"You just want to see him."

It shouldn't have, but his words left her swallowing thickly. It hadn't even been that long since she'd last seen him, and there were constant reminders between Pumpkin and Daisy to the lovely flower still in her living room to the distorted copy paper that she had ended up putting on the fridge. And yet, there was more truth to it than she cared to admit. She just wanted to see him. It was nice how he would occupy a seat at her kitchen table or play with the cats on the couch. The way he could physically change the atmosphere with just his presence, fogging up her brain with multicolored fractals that weren't all that bad. She thought about his smile, the way he'd tilt his head and his eyes would bend and crinkle, like even he couldn't quite crack whatever anomaly was tossed around in his head. Or how his arms would tangle around himself when he would laugh, as if he was keeping himself from unraveling and spilling out over her living room.

"Sasha" Tim hummed the words in a sing-song tune. "Did I lose you?"

She blinked. Her surroundings seeped back into her mind. Her brain sent alarms that he had asked her a question. "What?"

Tim laughed, shaking his head. "You should definitely invite him. For nothing more than you want him there."

"I don't need Jon breathing down my neck the whole time because-"

"Oh Jon won't be paying attention to you, he'll be too busy being oblivious to Martin's advances."

At that Sasha chuckled. "That's all the entertainment you'll need."

"True, although I'd hope Martin doesn't ruin his evening trying to talk up the stone wall of a person that is Jon. I really don't know what he sees in the man."

Sasha shrugged. "To each their own I guess."

And with that the conversation carried out into small talk. Over everything that had happened she hadn't gotten the opportunity to simply talk with Tim, and she had missed it.

----------------------------------------------

The rest of the week went by quicker than Sasha had hoped. She did manage to find a plain white dress that she didn't think was completely tacky hidden away in her closet. A small win. She even managed to find a pair of tennis shoes that weren't worn out. Elias would have to accept that she didn't own a fair pair of formal shoes. Sasha considered that a win too.

However, she couldn't seem to find Micheal. Usually, she'd wait for him to pop up. Which never seemed to take longer than a day or so. But now it seemed like she couldn't find him anywhere. She even tried the yellow door that usually existed unexplainably in artifact storage, but it wasn't there. Had it ever? The only reason she knew he was at least nearby was the new sack of cat food sitting in her kitchen.

By Thursday, Sasha had gotten too deep into an online rabbithole to worry about Micheal. There was an old meat market that people were apparently going missing at. A woman by the name of Amber Brown left a statement in 2009, when it was still open, sharing her experience when she had worked there. Now the place was closed but it got a weird amount of political controversy considering its location. Something about it being a biological waste hazard since it was found out that there was bone being ground up with the meat. People were also finding worms growing in the beef and chicken. The water was getting contaminated as well. Real yellow suit ordeal, health and safety had to do a whole quarantine of the area. Well, they were supposed to. In the end, from what Sasha read, the whole thing was shut down quietly. The health worker, Bill Hutchins, didn't even file a secondary report. Sasha made a note that she would look into the health worker that made the initial report and why they withdrew it since their name wasn't listed on the article.

What really caught Sasha's attention was the market's connection with Breekon and Hope, which had done more than a few deliveries through there.

The search bled into Friday as online she had found at least four other accounts of people's encounters. One user by the name of John Peterson had described the place and the food when it had been open. A different user, Ally Simson, claimed they had received a package from the market well after a year from closing. Sasha noted that she didn't mention what was actually in the package. The only victory was that Sasha had been able to get ahold of some younger gentleman, Caleb Hunt, that had a subscription service for lamb that continued to arrive at his place even after they were presumed closed. He was able to give her a listing address. It didn't match the address for the listed market and Sasha had a suspicion there was another one elsewhere. Either way she wrote down all the names and handed them off to Jon as she made her way out to go change for the ceremony.

"Ah Sasha- a word before you go."

She paused at Elias's request, smiling as he walked over to her.

"You are headed home to change I wager?"

"That's the plan."

"Any idea on who you're inviting?"

Sasha hesitated. "Honestly I'll probably just go alone." She doubted she'd run into Micheal between now and 6.

"Ah well that's a shame, well if you do run into him, do give him an invite, the more the merrier." Elias smiled at some inside joke before walking away.

Sasha blinked. Did she miss something? There wasn't any way he was talking about Micheal, right? She never even brought him up with Elias, and Jon hasn't broached the subject since the incident in the warehouse. Maybe he was talking about Tim? Sasha didn't have the brain power to understand and headed home.

She put on the dress, it wasn't anything special. Something she had found when she was out with a buddy from Uni a few years back. A true miracle that it still fit her, long with a glitter trail that followed down the seams and over the edge. The top was a T-shirt style of shoulders that had a black liner, making the end pop. It was lacking in a lot of ways but Sasha didn't have time or will to go out and buy some trivial thing that she'd only wear once.

Either way she put on the dress and looked in the mirror.

Sasha didn't stare very long. Too much to criticize. She was better off not worrying how she looked in the mirror. However she did grab the multicolored flower off the coffee table and attached it carefully to the front of her dress. A pop of color would at least help the overall dress and she loved it, might as well show it off.

----------------------------------------------

The actual event was much more extravagant than anything Sasha could have thought. Somehow Elias had managed to clear out the storage room in the back, exposing the wooden floors that shined under the lights overhead. A stage had been set up and a few violins played something classical. Sasha spotted Tim, Martin and Jon standing around almost awkwardly to the side. It made Sasha feel at least a little less out of place.

"Well hello there." Tim hummed. He was in a bright orange suit with matching pants and a black tie with matching orange flowers. Like something out of a Hawaiian vacation. "Finally you've chosen to grace us with your presence."

"What is all this?" Sasha laughed and gestured to the gala around them, people were gathered everywhere in suits and dresses, talking and dancing, enjoying the small samplers that servers carried around on large trays. "He made it sound small."

"It's Elias, it's never small." Jon muttered, fidgeting in place. He was in a simple black suit with a lime green tie. He looked slightly uncomfortable, which was probably the only reason he was allowing Martin his elbow, either that or Sasha had slipped through a wormhole into an alternate dimension. Martin didn't seem to mind though, looking the most comfortable she'd ever seen him, arm carefully tucked under Jon's and a nervous smile plastered to his face. He wore a lovely light blue suit and white tie.

Sasha noted how absolutely still he was and swallowed her laugh. Maybe not relaxed. Was he breathing?

"Well I think it's absolutely dashing." Tim continued, drawing away her attention as he made eye contact. "Where's your date?"

Sasha rolled her eyes. "I don't have one." She said with a polite smile, watching Tim glance at Martin who was focused on nothing apart from not moving.

"Well I can't believe it, especially with that stunning dress, Martin, what do you think?"

Sasha frowned slightly, looking back down at her dress-

Her jaw dropped.

She was no longer wearing the simple white thing that she had carried from the depths of her closet, and instead was wearing a multicolored masterpiece that draped over her shoulders lightly, meeting her waist with a striped ribbon before spanning out in a cacophony of color down past her ankles. The only thing that seemed without color was the pure white flower pinned to her front.

"Oh" Sasha whispered, well maybe she had gone through a wormhole. "Thank you."

She looked back up in time to see Tim shooting Martin another bemused look.

Before any of them could speak the tapping of glass caught everyone's attention and the group of violins was joined with a bass and a cello and the hall broke out into dance as the band rose in volume.

Elias really didn't hold back.

"Well I'm going to find a date." Tim said, bumping into Martin who finally seemed to recognize the people around him.

"What- who did you bring?" Sasha asked.

"I made a bet with Martin, going to pick someone up here, that's a stranger to me, and have a good night."

Her smile rose as she locked eyes with Martin. "How many pounds and how do I bet?"

Martin rolled his eyes. "It's not a real bet, there's just no way he's going to be able to sweet his way in with this crowd, have you met any of them? A sturdy bunch the lot of them."

"Elias's crowd." Jon commented, looking over the ballroom with something Sasha could only refer to as withheld disdain.

"I'm going to prove you wrong just you watch." And with that Tim was off.

Sasha looked around, most of everyone was gathering into the main area to dance.

"Should we go dance?"

Both Sasha and Martin snapped to look at Jon who seemed to stiffen at their immediate attention. Martin's jaw went slack a moment before he sputtered.

"Yes? Yes! Lets-yeah. You want to dance? We can- I can- sure." Martin winced but Jon didn't seem to notice any of his strugglings and just pulled Martin towards the dancefloor. Sasha watched them leave with raised brows. She definitely passed through a wormhole.

Sasha stood awkwardly on the edge for a long moment before shuffling through the crowd closer to the violinists. She swayed with the music, still looking at her impossibly colorful dress. She swore it was moving, the blue that was previously closer to her left shoulder was now down at her waist, splitting the dress in two with red and orange spots reminding her of a monarch butterfly. She wasn't sure how it worked together, how the stripes and polka dots didn't take away from the bright yellow and deep purple and lime green that seemed to blend together and pulse like a slow heartbeat. It almost hurt to look at, but Sasha was used to clashing colors and crude moving lines.

"Well, well, how utterly confusing~" the words sent familiar chills down Sasha's back, she looked around for the source of the sound. For Micheal. "A flower so far from the flower shop. Whatever shall we do?"

Sasha chuckled and frowned slightly, still looking in circles for wherever Micheal was. He sounded like a whisper in her ear. Too close to note a general direction.

"Mmmmm a pretty thing indeed, stained by the twisting of something others would call ugly."

"I never thought you ugly." She whispered into the air, still unable to find him through the thick blur of people.

"I was talking about the flower, my dear." He laughed softly and she saw a flash of blond to the left of her, but when she turned he was gone again.

"Where are you?"

"A place like this does not like things like me, the eye prefers simple truths not fractured, distorted lies."

She held her hand out. "I don't care, I want to see you."

A hand wrapped around hers and she didn't even have to blink before he was properly in front of her. "A beautiful contradiction~" His words left his mouth as a proper smile curled over his shifting features. But that wasn't what immediately took her attention.

His hair was up.

It was the first thing she noticed. Beautiful blonde spiralling in one large ball on his head, moving and curling as if it was a breathing thing. The bun was wrapped with a multicolored tie that defied gravity on the ends. He was in a suit that matched the colors of her dress. A kaleidoscope of shapes and patterns. The suit was a three piece, with the coat drawing down to his shoes. A white frilled ruff was wrapped around his collar and over his wrists. Like some aristocrat. Certain parts of him blurred together if you looked for too long and his arms were definitely longer than they should have been, knotting together at the joints. Even his hair didn't seem to sit right on his head. But he was there, outshining everyone at the ceremony with his outfit alone.

"Hello there." Sasha grinned. "You look nice."

Micheal hummed, looking over the crowd with a wide smile. "Why are you here?" His eyes flickered back to her, the pupils stretched out like chewed gum.

She shrugged. Swaying along with the tune of the string band. "Boss's orders." She would have said more but she found Martin and Jon in the crowd, they were dancing slow, an arms length apart but- Sasha smiled. Jon looked the most relaxed she'd seen him in months. He wasn't smiling, but his expression was lax as he looked out towards her. It took a moment before he made eye contact and she waved, and sure she was a good fifteen feet away, but Sasha would bet Tim everything in her wallet that he blushed as he looked away.

"You do not belong to the ceaseless watcher. Not yet."

Sasha frowned as she looked back at Micheal, not quite sure what he meant.

"No one owns me."

He almost looked sad for a moment. "So much you do not understand." He tilted his face further than should have been possible, letting it hang off his shoulder like some eclectic chandelier.

"What don't I understand, Micheal?"

He paused, his grin spreading once more. "My dear, may I ask for a dance?"

She smiled and chuckled, shaking her head and dropping the question. "Absolutely."

He pulled her into the mess of people, the music had sped up now and everyone was dancing accordingly. Micheal led her in some makeshift side shuffle, moving back and then close, giggling at her as she tried to focus on not tripping.

"There is much to be known about all your eye watches."

She kept her head down as she listened, keen to catch every word. Micheal continued; "You need not worry about somethings, but the nothings inbetween are what matter. Your It Knows You has gone for longer than you might believe and while I can dilute the mind, he can see within it."

"What do you-"

"You will understand later. Now, listen." Sasha caught his gaze and nodded. "You are like Micheal, you work under the eye. Like Micheal, you work for the Archivist. He did not work long enough to be taken by It Knows You, neither have you. Some things have left marks. One day you might see them, then that is when you will be claimed." He pondered his own words. "Time is such a fickle thing." Micheal paused to laugh, his eyes closing and folding on his face before relaxing once more. "Oh what was I saying?" He looked her over and she waited patiently, soaking up his words as best as she could.

"You need not do anything to be marked. The archivist is marked by a few, you a bit less. The lonely one barely. That will change."

The music shifted again, slowing to a lull. Micheal moved closer and rested his chin on the top of her head, holding her waist gently. "I wonder, would you quit? You are running out of time."

She thought about it. She had thought about it. Somehow it seemed so far away, like a grain of sand taken by the waves. Could she? Did she want to?

"I don't think so."

"Hmm. I thought as much. You are stubborn." One of his hands moved over her shoulder, his fingers drawing shapes in the exposed skin. "I would take you, first, before it, but you might see that as rude." He chuckled, the sound came out flat and sad. It made her want to hold him tight and tell him anything to see him smile, hear his laugh. She just wanted him to be happy. She recognized It as the same sadness she had seen at the flower shop. Like some exposed grief that was meant to be a secret.

"I'm sorry Micheal." She let her forehead rest on the crown of his shoulder. The fabric of his coat was odd. "I can't leave my people."

"It will kill you. It will kill them. It killed me."

"You're right here."

"I am nothing."

"You are real enough for me." Sasha closed her eyes. "I want to protect them."

"You are too much like Micheal."

"That doesn't have to be a bad thing. Please don't be mad at me, I cannot step away knowing I could protect them."

"I could never be mad at you, my dear."

She opened her eyes, looking over the crowd. No one was paying them any mind. Everyone was just enjoying the music. Sasha still couldn't believe Elias had managed to throw this together.

Michael melted against her, holding her close. She let out a lax sigh. A haze of comfort settled over her with his presence alone. Sasha hummed, breathing in the scent of fresh snow and cut grass, the smell of must and cinnamon, of people and wine and cherries. She relaxed, her shoulders dropping as she let Micheal lead her in a set rhythm. Mind fogging as her vision blurred and she closed her eyes. They swayed gently, the music playing overhead, some forgotten melody that echoed in the back of her mind past the thick tiredness that made her bones heavy. He was comfortable, she thought, as his arms tangled around her, safe.

"I just don't wish to lose you so soon." He whispered. "The eye does not deserve you."

"And who am I to choose who deserves me?" She certainly hadn't chosen anything else for herself.

Micheal giggled, tilting her face upwards, his eyes shone like diamonds. "Isn't that a prerequisite?" The words tainted the air with the taste of carmel.

"Who deserves me then?" She whispered.

"Yourself."

She chuckled, shaking her head. It was hard to hold eye contact at this distance. She wasn't sure why, instead she looked back down at her dress in all its multicolored brilliance.

"This dress looks way better now." Sasha commented.

"The distortion likes you."

"Jon calls you that." She met his gaze once more.

Michael's smile widened. "Whatever do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes, looking back down at the flower. It was completely white, still pulled out like taffy but without the color.

"I think I'll miss the colors."

Micheal touched the edge of the flower lightly. "I promise the distortion will return. Be patient, it's currently enjoying your dress."

She raised a brow and then laughed. Wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. He froze a moment before his palm rested against her back, his fingers splaying out across her shoulder blades. He massaged the muscles there, slowly, Sasha felt herself slipping away again. Falling into the steady haze that was Micheal. Her limbs felt heavy once more and this time it was harder to fight away the beckoning of sleep.

"I believe you have done your part here. May I take you home?"

The words barely made it through her mind, her eyes too heavy to open so she just nodded.

Sasha just barely felt Micheal shift, his arms wrapping around her gently, lifting her off the ground like she was nothing. The sounds of the party faded away too quickly to be normal, but she didn't mind, sinking into Michael's arms and breathing steadily.

She fell asleep just as her head hit the pillow, the last thing she heard being Michael's laughter that sounded nothing short of fond.

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

If anyone wants to write a character with double pneumonia, I can add some stuff from the godawful experience from a few years back.

Experience for others may differ, they can add in the comments/own reblogs, but it felt like a slow exhaustion and chesty cold that snuck up over a few weeks. you think you're just tired, but then you get headaches and can't sleep, and then the cough creeps in.

It's subtle to start, but eventually you hit a point where it feels like you did 100 sit ups out of nowhere and coughing Aches. And then it gets Wet in there.

The sore throat was bad, lasted way longer than you thought and the problem was that no water quenched it, but it also irritated your chest. A fun wet chesty cough could trigger at any time.

[I've had pharyngitis, which was a horrific sore throat and loss of voice for weeks. Trust me when I say, Pneumonia sore throat, one of the worst ever. You can lose your voice and its infuriating. I can safely say Covid was easier than double pneumonia.]

Your eyes and nose run, its so bad that at least for me, the entire ski around my eyes and nose were bruised. The constant damage of the liquid, the wiping, the raw skin that got worse, turned into bruising.

The weeping just never stopped, it was miserable. And the cough would trigger the weeping, the weeping/tickling runny nonsense would trigger the cough.

You were so FUCKING cold the whole time, you'd be in multiple layers and sweating through them.

And you think, this is a bad cold, right?

It's easy to dismiss as something you got from a kid that maybe sneezed on you. It happens.

[This is the part where the character can deny it until the next stage if you want, and the other/s become concerned]

The part you start to notice something's up is when sleep stops. Oh sleep disturbances are a thing, when you have a cold. Hard to breathe, achey bones and restless energy, etc. All normal.

But then you start to find it's hard to breathe.

It starts small. You might wake up disoriented more, often coughing harshly, feel phlegm deep in your throat, in your chest.

You can try sleeping propped up, but it only helps so much.

Food makes you want to either throw up or die, and then suddenly the hunger stops. Which is a whole Other problem. Because you lose energy fast.

Time gets a bit fucky around here. The body tries its best to heal by going 'just lay here for 8 hours' but it feels like 20 minutes, or vice versa. You're tired but the breathing issue impacts your ability to sleep even if you go full yoga master or twister champion to find The Position where you can get 5 mins sleep.

You get dizzy and vague and there is Brain Fog ++++.

Time has no meaning whatsoever for you then, it's like being locked into the moment, and it is suffering. Which seems dramatic until you're in it.

Sometimes the bruising around your eyes and nose is so profound the skin cracks, you end up with physical injuries. I think of it as the waterfall effect because it sounded better than snot saw, the constant liquid erodes your skin away until there are bloody furrows in some locations. That hurts like a bitch btw and nothing soothes it for long.

Words, thoughts, its all exhausting. And, at least for me when I get sick, there's a restless energy attached that makes you desperate to Do Something but unable to really settle or focus or think more than a few minutes at a time. I swear I wrote a fic or two in five minute bursts over random periods of time

You can get migraines, and the temperature seems to be playing Wheel of Fortune because you CANNOT cool off or warm up.

Then, my least favourite part... the iceburgs.

Whatever the hell is happening in your chest crescendos. Every single breath, your lungs creak and rumble and feel / sound like two huge icebergs rubbing up against one another on every inhale and exhale. It's honestly the most horrifying thing to experience, you start to question if others can hear it. And you can't do anything to blot it out because it's coming from inside the house.

It took 8 hours of not really breathing in a hospital emergency dept with like one other person there, to be seen. But they give you the nuclear warhead version of antibiotics, GPs could issue them too.

It can take weeks to have improvement, you also have to deal with side effects of antibiotics that strong (some people throw up, have diarrhoea, restlessness, inability to eat/nausea, etc). And despite your (or the character's) status as an independent person, having another person to help and bring food you can barely eat, was a game changer. To fight you for the eighth blanket you just snuck onto yourself because you're a degree away from cooking yourself alive... etc.

I was lucky enough that I called family like "I have double pneumonia" and had immediate support, but that was weeks into it. Thought it was a cold, right?

The fun thing about Pneumonia or its subsidiaries, is that once the symptoms finally fuck right off, you still feel OFF for up to like 6-12 months after. If you have a low immune system, or you're older, or it was a double-whammy with another illness/injury, it can take way longer.

And that's for people taking care of themselves, not pushing too hard, listening to their constraints. If perhaps they're in a hard job, or have commitments, or are punished for having time off unwell even though it was out of their control... the timeline for bouncing back is delayed.

--------

I see people use colds a lot for their fics, and yes it's certainly an illness, but they really have to stretch it to justify why A (or A and C if ot3) are still hovering over B when the symptoms are gone and they're well.

Here, have a fucking nightmare of an experience that will absolutely justify people intervening to help, fretting, hovering, and finding ways to assist and take the load later on. Keeping an eye to ensure no one overwhelms themselves and ends up sick again. The paranoia of hearing them cough or express coldlike symptoms again...

etc.

[balkanradfem]

I once measured crazy low blood pressure and my usual doc (amazing) was out so I had this other female doc and she didn’t seem that fussed she said it was thing that happens to some women during summer??? And told me to drink more water??? But I also have some symptoms of POTS so…

Okay this could be serious, it's crazy to just say drink more water, if it is a low blood pressure issue, then it should have been explained that you need about two liters of water a day, and two teaspoons of salt, so a lot! For me this resolved it, women in my comments explained to me the actual amounts I need to make my blood pressure normal.

I had a women in my private messages who was worried I had POTS, and she told me all other symptoms, so I'm just going to list it here, for anyone else who might have it:

fainting when you stand up too fast, for a long time, or start running suddenly, gets worse when it's hot, dizzyness

constant nausea, trouble eating seasoned food, sometimes vomiting water

getting red and blue splotches on legs

fingers turning raising-like even out of the shower

getting cold very fast

heart palpitations, racing heart even after quiet sleep

headaches

brain fog, struggling to remember things

Woman who explained all this to me also mentioned that COVID makes POTS more likely to develop, and that after it we had a POTS epidemic in younger women. If you have a lot of these symptoms you should ask for 'table-tilt test!' She said she was diagnosed this way. And also that POTS can go away after a few years, but it's hell to manage. Here's a link to read more about it!

edit: the woman giving me the info also wanted to make it clear it's dangerous to self-diagnose and to seek professional diagnosis for POTS. Some of the symptoms could be occurring due to the more serious diseases!

I hope you manage to get it figured out anon, good luck!

[sickiehugs]

Hi, i'm a fan of your blog and I saw that general asks afre open and I also saw that you have mentioned that you have chronic illnesses, and I was wondering what they Are? Because I have a friend who has one. If your not comfortable answering this feel free to delete!

Sure, I can answer that!

So I have three chronic illnesses. One is called POTS, one is called cyclic vomiting syndrome, and one is called vocal chord dysfunction.

POTS stands for Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. It means my autonomic nervous system doesn't work as it should. Symptoms include dizziness/lightheadedness and extreme increase in heart rate that gets worse when standing (and the risk of fainting), heart palpitations, fatigue, brain fog, nausea/vomiting, headaches, sweating/poor temperature regulation, and shakiness.

Cyclic vomiting syndrome is a condition where I experience cycles of severe nausea and vomiting (among other symptoms like stomach pain, headaches, and light sensitivity) that occur in episodes lasting from a few hours up to a few days, for me usually 1-6 days about once a month. Outside of these episodes, symptoms are little to none (the damn light sensitivity never leaves though). I also get abdominal migraines, which are like migraines but the pain is in your stomach.

Vocal chord dysfunction, despite the name, doesn't have to do with your voice (thank god). It means that I get muscle spasms and contractions in my throat, causing occasional violent coughing fits and serious trouble breathing, as well as a constant cough. There's a small chance of it getting better when I'm in my 20s, but there isn't much I can do to treat it and it'll most likely stay with me all my life, even if it does get better :(

Honestly, thank you for giving me a chance to talk about this, I was able to clear my mind a bit. I hope this answers your question and I'm sorry for yapping. Thank you for being a fan of my blog!!

[twoforflinching-ktbedition]

...you mentioned a time limit, and an injury before.

It... may not be my place to ask, but. What comes?

-Kane

Ah.

Well, I guess it’s gotta come out sometime.

(OOC: tw for terminal illness(?), injury, minor gore, blood, death. TL;DR, a description of an injury from a Basilisk Anticognition Hyperfractal Engine)

I wasn’t always from the Baronies, yknow? Nah, I’m a Union boy through and fuckin’ through. Grew up on a core world, joined the Union Navy as a lancer, served in Union peacekeeping forces on the Dawnline Shore for a lot of my life.

On the Shore, my squad bounced around a fuckin’ lot. Wherever the fightin’ was thickest, wherever there was the most danger, we’d go to protect civilian population centers from gettin’ utterly demolished. Meant we fought alongside pretty much every damn faction in this fight, helped whoever was protectin’ the little guy, y’know? It also meant we fought against every damn faction too.

I can’t remember which world it was, can’t remember a lot about the situation, really. Wasn’t supposed to be a huge Ungratefuls presence on that front in particular, was just supposed to be a simple protectin’ a city center from Armory goons tryin’ to root out Barony officials and steamrollin’ civilians to do it. Fuckin’ Armory bastards. I remember bein’ in Two For Flinching, remember holdin’ off a couple Tokus while my squadmates prepped their chassis behind my shields. I was the only one lookin’, the only one who could see past the steel, I—

IPS-N frames, Union Navy, we only really pack the tech we think we’re gonna be needin’. Ain’t gonna get up close? Don’t bring the fuckin’ hammer. Ain’t gonna need explosions? Don’t pack the breaching charges. Ain’t gonna see a Gorgon? Don’t pack the fuckin’ memetic shielding.

I don’t… I don’t remember much past seein’ the flash, I only got glimpses and all those glimpses are is fuckin’ excruciating pain. Apparently, I fuckin’ froze. Apparently, when my squad retreated, they had to leave me behind. Apparently, I wouldn’t stop screamin’ over the comms. Apparently, my brain bled so much it came outta my damn eyes.

Dunno how I got back, someone must’ve found me, took pity. The docs, they… they did what they could, did fuckin’ admirably, too. They managed to reverse the encephalitis, stop the bleedin’, reverse a lotta the original damage. That shit, though, the paracausal shit? It fuckin’ digs in, gets its hooks in you. It doesn’t fuckin’ leave.

They couldn’t stop the deterioration.

I’m fine, most days. A low-level headache and some fuckin’ brain fog ain’t shit now that I’m here. Sometimes I just… blank out, though. Stop, go unresponsive, never fuckin’ remember it afterwards. Docs called it catatonia, I think. Kinda like dissociation but it ain’t got a fuckin’ trigger, nothin’ you can do but wait it out neither. That’s the scary shit. Then there’s the night terrors, the fuckin’ migraines so bad it feels like my head’s explodin’, the fucked up memory and processing, the bleedin’ from my eyes. These things flare up bad sometimes, but they ain’t constant.

The symptoms have been gettin’ worse since the fuckin’ injury, ain’t nothin’ the docs can do. Apparently, it’ll just keep gettin’ worse. Apparently, new symptoms’ll keep popping up. Apparently, I got about few years before the bad days outnumber the good, a few more until the bad days are all I got, then...

It’s terrifying.

It’s… I’ve made my peace with it, I think. Ain’t nothin’ can be done. Arvantiel’s tryin’, sold xeir Calendula to fund research on figurin’ out how to save me, tryin’ xeir damndest to give me a couple more good years. I love ‘em for it, I really do, I… I don’t wanna break her heart if it doesn’t pan out. All that love, and ze gave it to a man with an expiration date. Christ-the-Buddha, they can’t even think about it most days. I try not to bring it up around him.

But that’s why I’m comfortable layin’ down my life like that, pissin’ off that Violet bitch like she ain’t got all the resources she needs to off me. I ain’t got much to lose. A death in battle’s easier on Arvantiel than watchin’ me go out slow. I ain’t seekin’ it out, not at all, I want all the time I can get with xem before I go, but if it comes then so fuckin’ be it.

If y’all fuckin’ pity me over this I’m killin’ you, by the way. Dyin’ doesn’t mean I ain’t still the same man with correct mech opinions tellin’ uppity nobles to go fuck themselves. It’s just a fact. Ain’t nothin’ none of us can do.

-Han Jae-

[my-gender-is-void]

Hello chronic conditions side of Tumblr.

I've been experiencing many symptoms for a very long while (technically all my life but obviously I didn't start paying attention until I was like 12-13) and I don't want to self diagnose but I do know it might be a key part of getting a formal diagnosis, I'm going to list the main symptoms and tell you what I through my research and various legit symptom checkers have concluded I might have.

I am hyper mobile, the orthopaedic told me that when I was like 5 but I never got a formal diagnosis because my parents didn't think it was relevant, however to this day my hip does something weird sometimes when I walk and then hurts afterwards and I have to overstretch it so it stops hurting as much, all of my articulations pop, I've had chronic low back pain since I was like 9 and back pain in general since I was 11, my injuries have a thought time scarring and they scar badly, my hands and feet are generally cold and peripheral blood circulation is kind of a mess, my skin is sensitive and reactive and I get cuts on the less damaging things ever, I have a propensity for bruising and they take a long time to reabsorbe, my pinky and ring finger get numb and tingly when I hold certain stuff (carpal tunnel is on the other 3 fingers I checked), my legs go numb often, sometimes my muscles just feel weak and I'm scared to pick up stuff in case they stop responding. I have a propensity for all kinds of headaches, my gums are also sensitive, I tend to be constipated no matter how much fiber I eat (and yes even if I eat lactose being lactose intolerant I'm still constipated, I just bloat), I have a heat intolerance (I even get rashes if it's too hot out).

I forgot but my ribs feel like they shift when I lay on my side and a couple of times I've had people horrified at something a joint of mine could do (generally my shoulder) and I quite frankly think I almost popped my shoulder out in one of those.

I'm also hypotensive and have a propensity to tachycardia and dizzy spells (or that thing where your vision gets black around the edges) when I stand up and when I do exercise (it doesn't happen when I walk, no matter how fast I do it) and when I exercise I have to stop even if my body doesn't feel tired because I feel like my heart rate is too high but I get cold sweat and shaky hands like it happens when I'm going to pass out. Which I might add I get those symptoms even just sitting sometimes and I have to lay down on the floor or sit with my head between my knees.

I live in a constant state of fatigue no matter how happy I feel, how well I eat or how much I sleep, which I also struggle with sleeping. And the brain fog makes it hard to concentrate.

That fatigue includes my body feeling heavy for no reason at all and being like a zombie all day struggling to even do stuff I want or hang out with friends most days.

The research I first did was regarding the whole hypotension, tachycardia, sport/rest/standing up dizziness fainting thing and honestly every conclusion lead me to POTS as the most likely condition.

That sent me into a rabbit hole of trying to find where the other symptoms where coming from, my search on hypermobility lead me to EDS, particularly H-EDS and honestly I must say a lot of things would make sense but I don't want to self diagnose so what do you guys who suffer any of this conditions have to say? Should I see a professional and just ramble all if my symptoms and see if that gets me somewhere?, or do I have enough of a valid basis to go to a doctor and tell them I suspect I might be suffering from POTS and maybe H-EDS?

Keep in mind I'm from Spain and I can tell you most if not all of the primary care doctors I've gone to have shrugged off all of my symptoms once they checked my heart worked properly in general, they don't even care that I have passed out from low blood pressure during blood draws and have even had convulsions twice after fainting, that and my sensitivity to anesthetics, fuckers just said "you're probably just tired because you're a high school/college/master's degree student", I've gone a fair amount of times since I was 16 and they never check it's always a "maybe it's your period", "maybe you're anemic" (I'm not, my reserves are a bit low but not enough to be considered a deficiency to treat), my blood tests come back well so they couldn't care less, my body weight sits in it's normal range (thankfully, because otherwise I know a good chunk of them would just point to my weight and my period).

Thing is, because I keep overworking myself due to my family situation and I was gifted and I guess that kind of transferred a bit to college, I've finished a degree and I'm on my way to my 3rd master's degree this academic year, and honestly I probably don't complain about the level of pain and tiredness I'm in enough because a) my mother would try to instantly blame it on weight or Physical activity or even just food itself (she's one of those everything you eat is bad, white carbs are the devil incarnate types of person) and I already had an ed for years due to her

b)when I complain about the fatigue my mother tries to one up me and everyone else just advices me to do more sports, spend time with family (no thanks), blame my sleep pattern even though the fatigue is purely physical, tell me I'm over exaggerating or over complaining and that I used to handle pain better as a child (she yelled at me when I complained and told me I couldn't be that tired because I was too young)

I'm going to tell you some more things about me as a child I just now remember my mother complained about: every school day I came complaining that the soles of my feet hurt and my palms too (particularly the right one since I'm right handed) and they'd turn out to be distended. My skin was even more reactive, I was so tired and borderline translucent even when they made me spend all summers at the beach that they took me to the cardiologist several times to check if I had a heart condition and It was working just fine, I experienced headaches almost daily, my immune system was an absolute disgrace, I refused to grip the pencil (scissors and other tools) right because it hurt my fingers, I was always coming home with bruises and injuries that were too extreme for what they would've been for my brother and to reiterate I started complaining about back ache at around 9 years old and of fatigue at 11, and even then me being seemingly constantly tired granted me a couple visits to a doctor to check for leukemia or heart conditions.

I need opinions and people to tell me if there are other conditions I should be researching or if I should just go ahead with the ones I have.

[asofspades]

So, I finally got started on the sonic keychains yesterday, I have to do them with shrink plastic, which means I have to do every single one of them by hand, so far I have Amy and Blaze done, it's 4 of each so I have 3 to sell and 1 for display.

Now, you might be familiar with my blog and I complain often about chronic pain, undiagnosed conditions and my masters degrees (yes,plural, I'm working on the 3rd one right one), I've been going to the college lab since last Tuesday, and I'm already exhausted even though I enjoy what I'm doing there and it's only 4 hours a day. However my body is not agreeing with me, the pain I'm constantly in and the physical exhaustion, brain fog and low BP I'm always plagued with become more noticeable when I have to pretend to be a functional human being. I'm exhausted, physically, and a bit drained from social interaction but like, my painkillers last 2 Hours tops and I have to power through the other two however I can, the 30 minute walks to the building and back to the station are killing my hips and my tachycardia - hypotension thingy is going wild (no, I'm not diagnosed with POTS, mainly because doctors refuse to even consider diagnosing me with anything because apparently I'm too young, hypotension is a "life guarantee" even if I've convulsed before while getting bloods drawn for a test because of the horribly low BP, hyper mobility is "not that much of an issue, your knees are doing going that's what's relevant" the rest of my joints can get fucked I guess, femoral anteversion and hyper lordosis "can't be that bad" and if I have constant headaches "have you tried just removing the stress from your life")

Anyways, here's how the keychains are turning out, they are yet to get shrunk on the oven because I'm waiting for all of them to be done