#i’m fucked because i’m bedbound

[lifblogs]

.

[inkykeiji]

me telling my boyfriend he has to be extra nice to me because i’m sick and him responding with ‘sorry baby, i don’t know how to be nice’ is peak dabi

[main-character-moment]

Everything bad is happening and no one is making it any easier

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 19

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You nestle down on the couch. The house is quiet and dark, only the low glare of the television lighting the front room as you listen to the drone of your favourite Drew Barrymore movie. A shiver rolls through you as you recall the last night you spent in this house, the one that ended in the wet grass.

You still don't know what you were thinking and yet the temptation lingers. You're listless, still lost in the sea of Lloyd's making.

You keep a pillow between your legs to ease the pain in your hips. Ever constant but more obvious with the growing weight of your stomach. You fear one bad night might have you once again bedbound. As if pregnancy isn't uncomfortable enough. You already feel helpless, even without a fetus sucking the life from you.

You rest your hand on your belly and bend your arm under your head. You and Colin never wanted a kid. You liked it just the two of you. You did. Apparently it wasn't enough for him. You sigh away the thought. You shouldn't think about him so much but a whole decade can't just fade away in the bat of an eye. Even Lloyd's.

"So, you're not comin' to bed," he frightens you as he shadow looms behind the couch, hands on the back as he bends slightly over you.

"Yours? No," you answer bluntly, recentering your vision on the television.

He huffs, "I know you're mad but--"

"I'm restless. I can't sleep because the baby..." you retort, "the baby you cursed me with."

"The baby you don't give a fuck about, apparently. Your self-preservation is not your strongest suit, you know?"

He crosses his arms over the back of the couch as he stoops lower. You sniff and let it out slow. You could strangle him, slap him, spit in his face. It's always your fault, he can do no wrong. You didn't ask for any of this. He knows that. If anything, he basks in that fact.

He hums, "it's cold upstairs. And this couch isn't the best for sleeping."

"Are you tryna be a good guy? Too late for that."

"I'm trying to make it up to you--"

You snarl and push yourself up, an awkwardly struggle to roll onto your back that undermines the anger within.

You sneer up at him, "make what up? That you humiliated me? Drag me around the mall and flirt with young girls in front of me? You're the same fucking pervert I met in the shop. Actually, you've proven yourself a lot worse," you snap. "Oh or are you sorry for shoving your dick down my throat until I gagged? You never seemed to mind that before. Wait, wait, I keep forgetting, I said his name. Wow, my god, fuck me for wanting to feel something. Anything!"

You swing your legs over the side of the couch and stand with a grunt, bracing your lower back, "leave me the fuck alone, Lloyd. Mommy's got you presentable but you can't fool me."

"Look, we were both wrong. But you didn't need to try to off yourself. You're not a weak bitch. I know that--"

"Oh, you think that's a compliment," you stomp away. "You'll have to try harder, if you ever try hard at anything besides being a fucking prick."

"Nah, that comes naturally," he follows you into the kitchen. You distract yourself with the fridge as you open it to search for a snack, "you should stay away from too much sugar--"

"Don't you even dare right now," you bark as you let the door shut and roll open the freezer drawer, "ah, here we go."

You take out the tub of rocky road and plop it on the counter. You fish out a spoon and peel off the lid. You stab the spoon into the frozen cylinder and dig away at it impatiently.

"I said sorry--"

"Because mommy told you," you scrape away a spoonful, "I don't fucking buy it, Lloyd. I know you. A little better than I want to."

"Uh, yeah, we are married so--"

"Don't remind me," you shove the spoon in your mouth and lick it clean, "it's a walking nightmare. Not like I don't have enough of the normal kind. Every time I close my eyes, I see your stupid fucking mustache and hear your dumb fucking voice--"

"I'm flattered."

"Of course you are. You're ego can't process what I'm saying," you jab the spoon down again, frustrated as you try to get past the hard surface to a chunk of chocolate.

He's quiet as he watches you. He moves closer, hand dragging across the counter. You focus on fighting the icy quart.

"I was tryna make you jealous. Those girls aren't my type, you know that."

"Not making it better," you growl and turn on him, raising the spoon, "get away from me before I scoop your eye out."

"I'd like to see you try, sweet cheeks," he laughs, "come on, I'm pouring out my heart here, peaches. I only want you, you know that."

"You're an idiot."

He inhales and turns, reaching up to the cupboard and opening the door. He takes out a bowl then slides out the drawer, grabbing the scoop. He runs it under warm water and grabs the tub of ice cream, carving out several balls of rocky road and putting it before you.

"There."

"I don't need your help."

"You need me, whether you want to accept it or not," he insists, "and," he turns to lean on the counter and crosses his arms, dipping his chin down, "indoo."

"Indoo? What gibberish--"

"I need you," he throws a hand up as he raises his head, "okay? Got it?"

You look at him as you spoon up the ice cream. You take a long taste as you consider his avoidant posture. He refuses to even glance in your direction.

"You don't get to just take everything. You, the baby," he talks with his hand, but not to you, "I don't get to find you dead on the lawn. That's not how this works."

"I know exactly how it works, Lloyd, why do you think I went out there?"

"Because you're stubborn as fuck," he snorts, "and that's exactly why I like you, peaches."

You send the sudden movement and you turn, deflecting his hand away from your ass. You tut and point the spoon at him, "ice cream and humble pie isn't gonna wipe the slate clean."

"Can you acknowledge that I'm trying?"

"I can acknowledge that you gave me a snack," you take the bowl and prance away.

"Not gonna return the favour, though, huh?" He trails after you.

"You try to touch me again, and I'll bite something off," you flop onto the couch, "go back to bed, give me some space. That's what you can do for me."

He looms and lets out another heavy breath, "are you gonna come to bed? Eventually?"

You don't look at him, opting instead to stare at the carnival scene playing out on television, "dunno."

He's quiet as he shifts on his feet, "I love this movie, you know? Had a big thing for Drew--"

"Go away," you say sharply, "or did you want me to go sleep in the yard?"

"Fine, fine," he raises his hands, "but... I'm just putting it out there that I changed the sheets and it's all nice and cozy and soft for you. I even freshened up my stache--"

"I'm going to throw this at you in ten seconds," you snarl, "and I'm not gonna be happy about the wasted ice cream."

"Sorry, mistress," he says coyly as he steps back on his heel, "whenever you're ready to spank me--"

You chuck the spoon in his direction and he dodges with a cackle. You shake your head as he quickly retreats.

"I'll be waiting with cheeks ready," he tosses back with another snicker.

"Fucking idiot," you growl as you put the bowl down, droplets of ice cream across your shirt from the angry hurl.

You shake your head as you listen to him go. How the fuck does he always wriggle his way out of these things? Well, you're not gonna let him off that easy.

[perryavenue]

rainjoy Has A New Post. It's Personal

rainjoy is one of my favorite Klaine fanfic authors. Their first Klaine fanfic was published on LiveJournal in 2011, their last in 2021. Health issues have become more intense over time. Their most famous works, All The Other Ghosts and Grey, were published in 2012 and 2013. So those who've joined the fandom fairly recently may not even know about their other fics, the most recent one being from 2021. rainjoy has written Klaine in every genre: high school!Klaine, college!Klaine, married!Klaine, supernatural!Klaine, fantasy!Klaine, and even superhero!Klaine.

Here is a link to rainjoy's works on Live Journal

Here's a link for Dreamwidth

I hope that you'll help boost it by re-blogging. Thanks in advance, @klaineccfanficlibrary and @todaydreambelieversfic

This is rainjoy's post from today (October 27, 2023).

"Hello, I’m still alive.

Hello, I do mean it, hello anybody around to see this, I really hope you’ve been well, I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I *haven’t* been well. But I have, over a course of fucking months, actually written something, so I’m writing *this* here so I don’t need to leave a novel-length author’s note on it, as some kind of explanation of where I’ve been.

Largely, I’ve been in bed, I’m likely going there again after posting this, they need to invent new words for how tired I am so much of the time, my upgraded wheelchair is worth about as much as my *laptop*, my life revolves around Can I? Probably not. and lots and lots and lots of ‘resting’. I’ve not been well, but please don’t worry, I’ve not been unhappy. This is the golden age of being ill, the sheer quantity of stuff out there to amuse the bedbound – I have books and podcasts, all of Netflix, I practically live on Sky: Children of the Light, when I’m too dopey even for that I have Animal Crossing, when I am genuinely such a puddle of not-human lethargy that all I need is for time to pass until I feel just slightly better again I have videos of other people playing video games on YouTube and I’m sorry my darling baby moths I will pick you up and help you every single time but it will never not be funny watching someone go through Eden for the first time on YouTube, it just never will not make me laugh, oh my gods I’m so *sorry* my loves <3

So anyway, there’s all that, that’s where I’ve been, life really does not work out the way you planned it to, huh? Because outside of my bed, I know I have messages and emails and someone got a tattoo?? You got a tattoo and I’m just really sorry I haven’t been in touch, my energy has to be paid out like a miser, if I want to wash my hair then wow the world is really not getting anything else out of me, you know? But I am still here, and I do still love the things I love. I still think all of it is worth it. I think the world is a *lot* of fun, though I bear in mind that still, and always, we live through very frightening and distressing times. Which actually makes me think we need to cling to the things we love *more*, not less, love makes better people of us, when we let it.

So I did watch the new season of Good Omens when it came out, and safe to say I was not impressed, but it did jog in me the memory that didn’t I write a sequel to it? Yes I did, and it involved *all* that blood. But I reread it – it’s like reading a stranger’s writing after so long – and that jogged the memory: Didn’t you start a sequel to *this*?

Yes I did! Two thirds written, actually, hurrah for my past self. The last third took, I don’t know, when did the new season come out, it took that long. I used to sneeze out this sort of thing. This, now, is getting at my arms, it’ll be another lie down soon. But anyway, the point of all this: I live yet. In the next few days I *hope* I will be formatting and posting a sequel to But Thou Readst Black because of course everyone wants *that* back in their heads again, my gods. And I hope hope hope you’ve been well, I do think of people while I’m stuck doing nothing but pooling my brain out of my ears on YouTube. Look after yourselves, take care of each other, my gods you tattooed yourself I mean more power to you but it alarms me when things I make turn out to be *permanent*, you know? It feels like I barely touch the world anymore, my circumference has become so small, but it makes the world seem only more precious. Take good care of it, and of yourself as part of it. And very, very much love, to anyone remaining to see this, much love <3"

[weezeryuri]

honestly the experience of reading about similar neglect cases to mine is so deeply exhausting, in my situation it’s because my caretaker in question is not at all equipped or competent enough to take care of a partially bedbound autistic 19 year old rather than out of resentment.

like. my mom doesn’t hate me, she doesn’t want me dead, she wants what’s best for me, but it’s still been 2 years since i’ve seen my primary doctor and i’m chronically underweight and she has watched me lay face down sobbing on the bathroom floor from pain and nausea countless times

i genuinely think she doesn’t know what to do with me and is too prideful to admit it and get extra support for me. like she used to yell at my dad for taking me grocery shopping when she fell behind on it. it’s fucking weird and i wish i understood

[queer-crip-grows]

Right-to-buy council houses without specifically only releasing housing that already had a replacement built was of the most notable ways of the *many* that Thatcher et al screwed the UK.

I’d love to have a law put in place that landlords either have to sign contracts to provide housing under council house-type contracts with rent controls to people on housing benefit etc, or sell to the local council at compulsory purchase prices.

Same for all the houses not being lived in - use to house people under contractual controls, or have to sell to the council housing central fund.

Personally I’d start converting all the office units that are no longer needed because so many people are working remotely now into housing too.

Same for the huge city centre shops - I’m not sure if the pattern repeats elsewhere, but I live near Glasgow and the city centre has basically died since Covid. No one is renting the huge retail stores and the place is full of unhoused folk, which is a fucking scandal. So convert them into housing; let the buildings see use, and let those folks get off the streets. Pets and kids specifically allowed too - get families out of one-room shelters and into proper homes of their own.

I’ve heard that there would be issues putting in water infrastructure, but given the place is literally crumbling already and usage in so many areas is so low that having workers digging up the streets to install water lines wouldn’t cause enormous disruption, the time to do this is *now*. Build rainwater catchment and purification systems on roofs too - we get so much rain in the UK it’s kind of ridiculous not to use it! Some of that could go directly to drip irrigation in gardens, but plenty could go right into the houses/flats too. And of course this would provide tons of jobs in construction, architecture, planning etc etc.

Install gardens and green spaces around the place while you are doing this - offer some at low rent, or to buy cheaply, to market gardeners, but specifically put spaces in for communal gardens with the idea of offering allotments and encouraging people to grow their own food.

Put solar panels on every roof and integrate spaces for smaller wind turbines amongst the houses too. Huge storage batteries in basements to make the new blocks as low-footprint and self-sufficient as possible power-wise.

It would be a *fantastic* opportunity to create genuinely accessible housing - office buildings and shops already have lifts and wide corridors ideal for wheelchairs and other mobility devices, so keep that in the design when creating housing. There is a hidden epidemic of houselessness amongst disabled people and older folk with mobility needs, so create low-rent council housing that specifically fits those needs there.

It would regenerate the areas - all the smaller shopfronts not suitable for housing conversion would fill up with people offering the things people in residential neighbourhoods need, with a guaranteed payer base. People on low incomes *use* all of their incomes on necessities, so small businesses selling those necessities will do well. Offer small businesses low rents to provide those necessities. Any that don’t fill up, offer to charities and use for council staff offering the aid and advice people transitioning into housing actually *need*.

Carers are generally low-paid - so this would be an opportunity to offer them cheap housing close to a huge client base in the new accessible housing. No need for low-paid, mostly-female workers to dash constantly between clients in cars. They could walk to work and walk in between clients, who would also no longer be trapped in inaccessible homes, so people who are not actually bedbound would hopefully be less housebound.

Put rooms in the blocks for communal and co-op activities to reduce isolation - with the lifts and wide corridors, even people who are functionally housebound are likely to be able to make it to a room in their own building, and even quite young children could get to those places safely on their own if their parents are working. Wraparound childcare, paid and informal, near where folks actually live.

City centre areas that are now largely dead other than unhoused people, with limited and decreasing zero economic activity taking place and a decreasing incentive for businesses to set up there rather than in out-of-town retail parks people need to drive to, would become vibrant communities with every incentive for businesses to set up there, particularly for the small businesses that still employ the majority of people.

It wouldn’t take a lot to extend this model to transform those out-of-town business parks that are currently largely empty either; nothing says the businesses that are still there would need to move, and they would have a huge new pool of potential employees living within easily walkable distance, though there would need to be oversight to make sure places like Amazon didn’t attempt to buy them up and turn them into company housing. There would need to be a little more investment to provide green transport links like electric buses and trains so that it would be easier for small businesses to move in to provide services, but given the tax income that would result and the reduction in pollution the investment would probably pay itself back within a decade or so.

[evilwriter37]

Yep, gonna be bedbound. Back injuries fucking suck. I can’t get in or out of bed without screaming because of how painful it is. I long for pain medication, but at the same time, that shit fucked me up pretty bad last time. Don’t need that in my life.

I guess I’m in the right place to have this happen again though. My polycule is just made up of the sweetest people ever. They get this stuff and are willing to help me. I feel like such a burden though…

[fatedtime]

funfact: Lewis Carroll (the author of Alice in Wonderland) was 1 of the suspects of the Jack the Ripper murders, almost adds a layer to Nurseryrhyme's and Jack's friendship, eh?

hello. and I will apologize for this for advance, and it’s extremely cringe of me that I even know this information (former true crime enthusiast), but I actually have strong feelings about this topic — I am aware, and he is imho the worst suspect to the point where I cannot even consider him a suspect at all because the only ‘evidence’ of it was proposed by a guy named Richard Wallace, who essentially posited that because you can construct spooky anagrams out of carroll’s text confessing to it, he is a potential murderer.

like I could go on and on about why I think, like, the anagrams aren’t even good, but more than that Carroll and the other posited suspect, one of his friends, had goddamn alibis. Carroll was confirmably Elsewhere during many of the murders and the other person was seriously injured and bedbound that year. even beyond that, part of the supposition for finding hidden meaning in the text at all was that carroll’s works are surreal. which is honestly an insulting misinterpretation of his stories generally, and I find it really annoying how much people theorize about the weeeeeeird reasssssoooons behind hiiiiis wriiiiiting. come the fuck on. You don’t have to be taking drugs or a deeply misognyistic fucked up serial killer to write things that are creative.

Sorry, again. I mean no disrespect here to anyone but Richard Wallace himself here, but I think it’s really gross to write speculative theories about a dead man possibly being a brutal murderer with no more proof than ‘you can rearrange the letters badly to get a confession!’. In the end it doesn’t really matter and I don’t think really affects any living people, but it’s just… tacky. It’s tacky to write, and it’s tacky to profit off of. Putting words in the mouths of the dead to speculate about the brutal killings of actual women who actually existed, as if it was a fun thought experiment, it’s…. It’s gross. It’s gross and exploitative and it’s a reflection of how gross and exploitative true crime is today.

I’m sure this wasn’t the response you were interested in, and I apologize for that. I also know that very few people but me even care about the truth, really, and are just trying to spread fun stories. But l happen to have incredibly strong feelings about it, so what can you do. I answer asks on the internet and bitch about a man who will never know my name.

— also Jack FGO (originally form Apocrypha but fgo is where she could meet nursery rhyme) is specifically the ghosts of unborn children that take the form of ‘Jack the ripper’ that want to kill women in a sort of resentment, sort of ‘i want to crawl into her corpse and return to the womb’ way. if you’re looking for a nursery rhyme/Jack connection involving Lewis carroll you’d want FSF besererker Jack the Ripper who is far more informed by the ‘culprit theories’ surrounding Jack the Ripper, and not FGO Jack. Adet if you’re reading this you can correct me if you think I’m wrong OKAY BYE

[cjoatprehn]

Survival Financial Request!

My mom’s been filing for bankruptcy, has been extremely financially stressed lately, and trying to get me over to her has been really stressful. She’s a burn victim from a Yankee Candle catching on fire on Halloween, she received 3rd degree burns on most of her body for trying to save her support dog. Between support animal costs, food, rent, and hospital recovery, she’s in dire need of aid. If y’all could and are in a position to help, could you send some money over, please, to help ensure she will be able to at the very least have some pressure off her shoulders? And a sweet note, if you want to—? Thank you…

Adding to this post-

I want to make clear I’ve been struggling to keep us and others afloat, and now I’m at a point in my life and health where I am no longer able to do so. They’re cutting away more food stamp money from many households in the legislature not just ours, and I’m in the process of moving to my mom’s to help out. And also—

I’m kinda Flipping out right now. I don’t want to lie, with the US being a 3rd world country now. I’m flipping out because last month…was the last month they would be giving food money in the 100s. With food so high and Rent higher. SSI—I don’t even know. …I’m smiling but I don’t know what else to do. My moms still recovering from 3rd degree burns, surgery, and trying to get me there, and I’ve learned that the Aunt that had control of late great grandma’s reservoir for funds…Help won’t last long.

I’m scared, and I’m losing hope. I don’t want to go out as the person who Fucking struggled and suffered their entire life, never got to flourish. …I’ve never thought of making a gofundme again. Every time I’ve made one it never reached anything. And…I-can’t even maintain a savings for long. If we run out of money or assistance, then my mom stops getting treatment. Her dog doesn’t get food or treatment…and we’ll lose the little we have left.

She doesn’t have any friends or many connections outside of herself or her former government job. So—I’m just—like—trying to convince her to.. at least accept my help. I know everyone’s not in the best financial situation to help but—I can’t continue giving good energy to the universe from an empty cup…so I really appreciate the support..!

For record only, no longer helping someone who wants to gaslight and abuse me. I’ve been evicted as of May 9th, 2023. I found a place to stay for last night and possibly tonight. After that I’m on the streets. I’ve accepted I might not make it. I’m bedbound forced to rest by my body and disabilities. My phone has been deactivated by my mom only to discover she can’t reactivate it due to my phone being 6-7 years old. It’s too old to be reactivated with its old line.

But…hey…I’m no longer at my abusive home situation. I don’t wish to tell my dad’s side of the family. My mom prolly let them know anyway. I don’t know for sure though.

…I’m so flipping screwed. Had to deactivate my throne, due to no longer having that address. So…I’m just.. Here. Waiting. Watching my time come closer.

Thread of some of the abuse from my mom. I don’t feel like typing it all here..

https://cjoatbysamwise.com/donate-to-cjoat

…I’m scared. But I don’t know what else to do so I’m accepting my fate and situation for now at least. So.

Here’s to updates..

Late Update:

Got yelled at, insulted, and screamed at by my mom through text. She’s called AT&T to lock everything down; I asked her for my account information. When she didn’t answer for the next 5-6 hours. I had AT&T send an email and a text to her & asked her for what they sent her. I got accused of hacking. I’m Not getting my phone line back.

Oh and to top it off, she sent me a picture of Storme laying outside of where I used to sleep. With Storme saying hi. I relayed a message to Storme. It would be a goodbye unless we meet again.

…So I’m unable to exactly…Do anything so. Just…Trying to calm my heart rate down…It’s been elevated all damn day…and increasing..

Good News: The Situation has Partly Cleared!

I cued a erasure on the iPhone 14 Pro Max, which my mom gave me and then took away from me after snooping through my iPhone 8+ and kicking me out, as soon as it connects to the internet; that way, my mom gets to return the phone, she gets her $1K+ back, problem solved. However, twice my mom sent 2 “Reset Apple ID Password” pop-ups on my devices, which…fuck off, mom, tf?

In response, after checking with the select few, I have changed my Apple ID email, because she doesn’t know my Apple ID password. I will be working with Apple Customer Servicee to ensure she can not steal my Apple account through Screen Time (which is possible). Conclusively:

I have a bed and address, temporarily but for awhile, unsure of how long, definitely more than a few days. Right now, until things stabilize with assistance, I don’t have to pay yet, despite being willing to. Currently slowly getting out of survival mode. Many of my stuff remain at my mom’s. I am able to get another physical SIM for my phone. Throne should be showing and working now, because I now have a new address, temporary while I figure what to do from here. I am no longer am able to draw due to my stylus breaking and my disc tips running out. Still got to get back. Laptop is out of commission until I get a new laptop charger, or until I get my old one back. That’s the update for now.

…I’m…finally going to heal, now that I’m safe and in a warm & accepting, and lax environment.

Still going to need assistance, thank y’all so much for supporting me so far.

[bumblebeerror]

I feel like people forget that like. Supporting disabled people means all of them.

Yea even the ones who smell or have issues with continence or are physically disfigured or who have crooked noses or fingers or toes or backs or legs or arms

Yea, even the ones who are assholes, even the ones that don’t want to do anything, even the ones who could work but don’t want to deal with the absolute hassle of having an illness while working, even the ones who throw hissy fits or tantrums or have meltdowns or cry.

Yes, even the ones who can’t walk or can’t talk or can’t eat or can’t bathe. Yes, even the ones who are bedbound or in comas or need 24/7 care

Yes, even the ones who aren’t doing their best because they don’t want to. Even the ones who aren’t overcoming their illness. Even the ones who can’t be inspiration porn. Not everyone wants to give 110% all the time - I’m sure most abled people don’t even get fucking close to doing that. Why do you expect it from someone who’s ill?

[thatchronicfeeling]

This week, I started a new medication. After consulting the accompanying leaflet, two pharmacists and a pharmacy assistant, here is the ‘information’ I was given about it: - it must be refrigerated

- it does not need to be refrigerated

- there are two brands -- one needs to be refrigerated; the other doesn’t

- the brand I got doesn’t need to be refrigerated

- the brand I got *does* need to be refrigerated

- the box containing the medication is a white, unmarked box

- I may have been given two different brands, but nobody is sure

- brand A is in the box and should be refrigerated at all times, unless you’re going on holiday, in which case anything goes

- the only information leaflet in the box is for brand B

- brand B does not need to be refrigerated

- the pharmacy would be unlikely to give me a medication that needed to be refrigerated, unless absolutely necessary, because the pharmacy likes to make things easy for people

- yes, it *is* confusing that the label, printed by the pharmacy and put on the box, says that the medication should be refrigerated and the accompanying leaflet says that it doesn’t (and to anyone who’s thinking ‘what’s the big deal? Just put it in the fridge’. I’m bedbound and unable to access the fridge. Yes, I can ask someone to bring the medication to me. No, that’s not convenient. I want to be able to manage my medication by myself and also maintain some privacy around my health needs. Also I could really do with some clear instructions on how the fuck to store my medication because I’d actually like to give it the best chance of working.)

[irrolyphant]

.

So recently I posted about how things in my life are gonna get very bad, and that I would probably suddenly be gone for some time. I thought I’d update you on that.

It hasn’t happened yet, and we don’t know when it will.

The long-story-short is that my amazing Dad is dying.

———————————————

In 2020 he was told he had prostate cancer. Due to the pandemic, many cancer patients received little to no help from the NHS, and my Dad was no exception. We were literally left to google his cancer in order to learn anything about it. Eventually, we were led to believe (don’t get me started on the complete lack of honesty and openness of literally every NHS professional we’ve encountered so far) that his cancer, while not curable, could be slowed down to the point that he would die of old age WITH cancer, not OF cancer.

So many terrible awful dreadful things have happened since then. Seriously, he’s been through so fucking much. And then, early this year he was told he had a second cancer. (After being told he does, then he doesn’t, then he does, then he doesn’t…) This one is incredibly rare, and no-one in our local hospitals can identify it beyond the fact that it’s a bone cancer. Because of its rarity, it cannot be treated at all. And it’s spread. So too, it turns out, has his prostate cancer.

His bone cancer has “eaten” away his right hip, and his right leg is now up in his pelvis. And his right femur is broken. So he is, of course, unable to walk. The doctors said (in pretty much the only direct communication we’ve had from any doctors) had he remained bedbound, he’d have died by April. But because we can lift him into a wheelchair then lift him into his armchair, his lungs are able to clear every day, and his heart is getting exercise, so they said that’s keeping him going. But he likely won’t see Christmas.

Before I made my previous post, his health declined enormously, and we were sure he was nearing the end of his battle. But, in his words, he’s “a stubborn bastard” and he somehow managed to improve again (not quite to the way he was before the decline, but pretty close).

So, we have no clue whatsoever about when anything might happen. We just know that it will.

———————————————

I don’t know how I’m going to react, but I do know that I am going to be absolutely devastated. Don’t let them fool you — knowing it’s going to happen doesn’t make it easier! As I said before, I might take a hiatus for however long. But then again, who knows, maybe I’ll find that being here is a fantastic distraction??

So yeah. I thought I’d fill you in, in case you were curious or concerned, and were wondering how things are going, as since I posted not a lot has changed in terms of how I’m posting here.

🫶🏻

[enbycrip]

Attempted to enquire about making a claim on a critical illness cover I’ve been paying for over a decade now because it was a precondition of getting a mortgage back when I was (apparently) healthy. Which my benefits go in to pay my half of now but if my OH didn’t have a job with a salary that can effectively subsidise me we’d have lost our home long long since.

There is of course no listing for hEDS or any other fatigue-based condition. The closest they’ll cover is Total Permanent Disability and they don’t cover that if you *ever* have any capacity to walk with any mobility aid, or can *ever* climb stairs, or can *ever* do the fucking stupid lift a 2kg weight thing.

I’m 85-90% bedbound depending on how I’m doing at any given time - usually summer-winter but also based on whether I’ve had a recent dislocation and how much it’s damaged me coming out and going in again.

This policy pays out immediately on loss of a foot. £88k.

The fucking *things* I could do with my life with a prosthetic or no foot that I can’t do now that would make me incredibly employable are literally too numerous to mention.

(I only mention the foot because that’s there clearly on the policy and the difference that would make to my pre-morbidity functioning vs the things I can actually *do* regularly now is just so fucking vast.

MS is in the policy. Anyone with ME or fibromyalgia would be in the same boat as me.)

Once again, the way abled people conceive of disability fucks disabled people over.

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

haaaiiii its meee, drunk anon <333

last time i’ve seen your posts you said you were feeling ill so i hope you’ve recovered and rejuvenated well by now. i was sick about three weeks ago and i’ve always been a child about taking medicine 😖 eeughhh nyquil, very much dislike nyquil & yet i’ll consume 8 shots of jamey before a lick of nyquil lmaaooo

anywaayy, since i’m on the topic of sickness, what are your hcs for Aeon when one of them is sick? who’s more baby-er(? lol)? who has more trouble taking nyquil? (lolololctfuuuu) what needs are Aeon attending to when one of them are bed bound? (also Ada telling Leon to fawk off because she doesn’t wanna get him sick but he goes and instead fawks her skahxxgsh and FJCKING VICE VERSA)

hehe ok bye ✌️😎

HI BABY im glad u drank water by now hehe

I AM ILL I WAS ILL I WILL BE FINE LOL THANK YOUBABY

IM SORRY BABY. awwww i actually like nyquil jksbjdfkjsdbfkjs i had to take a lot of it recently skbfdsbbelugh. im glad ur better too baby! YES SICK AEON HC (illness, not SICK as in cool lol)

i wrote ada being sick in this fic actually!

FAWKSSDSS HHER TJKSFJKSJKSDKKFNJSDF

leon is the hugest baby

just in bed, the covered in tissues and pain meds and STINKY

ada would probably NOT ACTUALLY STICK AROUND TO TAKE CARE OF HIM LMAO she'd leave like a basket of cough syrup with notes like, "take this, and this, and drink this." and FUCKIN DIP LOL

she'd check in again at some point and would feel bad, maybe check if he has a fever but would hope that he gets better eventually

leon would stick around till the point ada's like GET THE FUCK OUT

he'd coddle her much more and she'd HATE IT.

yes leon is the bedbound one, but ada would be too but would still want to do things on her own.

i see them rarely getting sick though. maybe fatigue and headaches and body aches but i for some reason see leon getting like physicals and shots to stay healthy. he would be the one getting special treatment so he can stay healthy, longer

but his own bad habits like excessive drinking would ruin that lol

ada would want to take care of herself on her own and just hate the idea of being sick in front of leon.

but i do

..

have

...aeon fic

where

ada is

sick...

for reasons...

:)

[weezeryuri]

i really need to clean my room because it is a fucking shitshow depression cave but i’m so frazzled over my family’s bullshit that it made me bedbound levels of dizzy and nauseous