#medical issues tw
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cripplemagics · 6 months ago
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i feel sick. my SSI benefits are being taken away because it was deemed that my health has improved enough that i can work. in what universe can i work when i have to spend 6-10 hours a day on a vent???????
fucking fuck ass hellhole that is texas get me out of here.
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herleaf · 4 months ago
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Surprising no one, I’m having acid reflux (I sure wonder why) so I’m going to finally watch the last three episodes of s2 of t.orchwood and cry to @fablelike during it (by the way, an absolutely beautiful human being with a super kind soul who I am lucky to have bless my dash and I hope you agree and follow them because 100/10 recommend all their blogs. Fantastic writer and human being!!) most likely will be mobile for the rest of the night because I am not great mentally but I am getting by. Things will work out and I will be writing up a storm soon, I feel it. But for now you get me with my Violet Parr icons and awkwardness and delightful ooc posts that I delete a few minutes later because I feel bad putting out so much ooc posts on a writing blog but not much I can do.
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zuzsenpai · 7 months ago
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Personal post- TW for descriptions of serious medical issues and surgery
I FINALLY go tomorrow to see the breast oncologist about my benign breast tumor. It’s been growing rapidly for about 4 months and at this point it’s huge. I got a mammo, ultrasound, and biopsy 2 months ago. I was told it’s likely a rare, fast growing tumor called a phyllodes tumor, that right now is supposedly benign, but could become malignant in the future. I don’t know what the doctor is going to say, but I’m guessing it will mean surgery. Otherwise I assume I would need constant biopsies for basically forever? Which sounds a billion times worse than surgery. Also it’s like… actively getting bigger atm. So yeah I do need surgery.
I also apparently have calcifications in my other breast that need to be checked out in six months. Not happy about that either, but it could be nothing.
Dunno when the surgery is gonna be or why I’m bothering to post about this until I know the plan. I guess I just need to talk about it out loud. Like, I’m fine. It’s fine. I’ve had surgery for a benign thyroid tumor before and it was fine. Catching these things early is good. I’m just…. Not looking forward to having surgery again
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compassionatereminders · 2 years ago
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just a vent i hope its ok.
health/hospital tw. im throwing up blood and not able to eat but got dismissed from the hospital. part of me feels stupid for even going. but im puking blood and i haven't eaten in three days. but they've decided that it's all because of marijuana even though the last time i smoked was at a party in October. just told me to stop smoking. it feels like my throat is slowly closing but the hospital has already labelled me so i cant go back. thanks for listening kat.
You need, and I cannot stress this enough, to go to a different hospital and get another doctor to look at this situation - because this could be a very serious medical emergency and I am BEYOND furious that you got dismissed in that manner. But that does not mean this is nothing. It means the hospital you went to committed both medical neglect and medical abuse. Which is completely unacceptable. But there are other doctors and other hospitals and you deserve and need medical attention even if you have to fight for it. So please continue to act
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one-abuse-survivor · 1 year ago
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hey there, milky way anon back after almost a year 🌌
a lot of stuff has happened since last december, i had a therapist for a while although i kind of lost touch after i was away over the summer holidays, a very toxic relationship happened for something over a month (i ended up there because i struggled with saying no), my other important relationship is still committed and holding up, i've reconnected a lot with a person who i got to know a few years ago and then promptly lost touch with because it left school and i didn't have its number back then, and who apparently had some very serious medical issues in between then and now so i'm glad it's still alive and around, and especially that i've motivated it to join the team with whom i play my most favorite absurd sport with.
i've also worked a lot on myself, and come to terms with some stuff concerning sexuality and relationships.
i've found (at least) two people who i really look up to, one of them i know personally and he'd probably be overwhelmed if he knew how much of a positive kind of father figure he's become for me ever since i first met him last march despite us only meeting every few months (he does the same sport but in a different team but we've played a bunch of tournaments in the same mixed team recently) and i've learnt a lot of stuff from him, on one hand things related to the sport (i learnt how to play an entirely new position just from him at the few tournaments we've met at and he's been a real pleasure to play that position with and he's probably one of the people who i play the best and easiest with), and the other is a celebrity who just shares a lot of my mindsets and opinions on things and has had to work through a lot of things similar to what i'm going through/went through and how he's handled that is definitely helping get a lot of new insights
honestly just thinking about it those two people have probably done more good things for my psyche in that year than my parents have in my life as far back as i can remember, especially when it comes to general kind of wisdoms, which are offered without heaps of judgement and non-constructive criticism first and are a lot more understandable, applicable and down-to-earth than what my parents would give me
i've also noticed in that time that i stutter, and that i do it a lot and that it's mostly because my mouth can't keep up with my thoughts, because they are too fast and mostly a strange linguistic mashup of english, german and whatever else. i've also noticed that it's a thing my parents like to make fun of.
and yes, seasonal depression is a bitch and i would not wish this fall i had on anybody but i am fighting back hard this time, surrounding myself with people who i share a mutual respect with and whose company i enjoy. i think i've learnt a lot about myself and my emotional needs and how i can fulfill them better to give this fall's depressive phases a lot less ground to stand on
and lastly, i am now in my last year of school, i think overall i have probably around 15 weeks of school left until finals and graduation which i am really excited but also very stressed and anxious about. especially because i'm terrified of the future because i never expected myself to get that far and actually have one and going on to the end of school i need to start planning what i'll do afterwards
thank you a lot for existing, thank you for taking the time and spoons to read through all those asks you're receiving and carefully replying to them, thank you for being someone i can appreciate and respect as much as i do
Hi again!!! Thank you so much for your kind words. I'm glad to be here and to be able to help 🥰
I really hope your graduation went well! And I hope the future feels a little bit less scary now. It's really common to feel that way when you've gone through trauma as a kid and teen. I personally also used to think I'd never make it past 18. It can be incredibly hard to build a life that you never planned to live, and to find your footing and feel like you're in control instead of spiralling wildly and always tripping over your own feet. But it really does get better with time. I'm rooting for you, nonnie ❤️
I'm glad to hear you've found some role models that help you navigate life and learn new things. I think the fact that abused and neglected teens still need safe adults and role models and tend to look for them outside of the house isn't talked about enough. It can go well if they find adults who are actually safe and want what's best for them, or if they find celebrities or even fictional characters to rely on. But with real people it can sometimes go badly, because they can take advantage or they can put space between you, which can feel like parental abandonment all over again. I hope these role models have continued to have a positive impact in your life!
Also, I'm so glad you managed to reconnect with an old friend, and that it was okay! What it went through sounds pretty scary :(
You don't deserve for your parents to make fun of you for stuttering. That's not okay. And I'm so glad you've been able to listen to your emotional needs and meet them. That's not always an easy thing to accomplish, and you really deserve to be proud of yourself for that.
Sending a big hug your way. Hope things are going well! ❤️
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astralechoes · 9 months ago
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love how I doubt myself about my hypermobility even though I'm pretty sure I somehow subluxed my shoulder laying down the other day
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uncanny-tranny · 1 year ago
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Fat people deserve mobility aids, too. No matter if it's connected to their fatness or not, because having a mobility issue that is connected to one's fatness won't change that they're still fat and still have the issue at hand. Fat people don't deserve to "tough it out" because fatness should be this divine punishment doled out to those who "deserve" it. Fat disabled people deserve to have the peace of mind that they can exist in whatever way is most comfortable and accessible to them
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adeerie · 1 year ago
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i think my mom's going to have to go to the hospital again
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witchskies · 2 years ago
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im having so many health complications rn and it’s starting to terrify me.
i keep losing my hair in clumps. my limbs are so stiff. my thyroid medication is barely working. i’m always cold. my feet are swelling for no reason. i’m terrified to shower because i’ll have to see how much hair i’ve lost overnight. the internal care practice i go to got dissolved so now i’m out here trying to find an endocrinologist on my own. i think i found a promising one but she’s an hour and a half away from me. 
i’m already struggling to eat what foods i can, my sensory issues have been so awful. and now half of the foods i like i can’t eat anymore bc i don’t want to put my health even more at risk until i can see a dr. 
im scared all my hair is going to fall out. its the only thing that makes me feel pretty. i got my haircut last month and was feeling so good about it and now my hair is so thin and i’m terrified that someone will see the missing patches underneath. i feel like vomiting. 
most of this is definitely partially stress induced but wtf am i supposed to do. it’s my last semester of college and im graduating soon. i’m stressed all the fucking time. and now i’m stressed about this. how the fuck do i not stress about this???
i bought like 4 new vitamins and i just. i need them to work. i need my hair back. i cnat do this right now.
i also need to get screened for diabetes again ofc
my life is in a spiral rn. i’m scared for my own health. ppl keep telling me i’ll be fine and that it’s probably not that bad. i’m literally losing my fucking hair how is that not bad????
i know it’ll grow back probably and i know i might be catastrophizing it but i just have such an awful gut feeling about this. 
god i’m behind in my classes now too
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cripplemagics · 3 months ago
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my brother - the one with all the same chronic illnesses as i and then some - is in the ER waiting for a room in the hospital tonight so i will either be very on in the next 24 hours trying to distract myself OR i will not be on trying to distract myself with other shit.
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schizopositivity · 10 months ago
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Here's a reminder to fight the internalized sanism/ableism in your head.
If you have executive dysfunction, don't compare your productivity to people who don't.
If you have anhedonia, don't compare your struggling to keep up with hobbies to someone who doesn't.
If you have paranoia, don't think of your fears as any less valid than the fears of someone who doesn't.
If your meds make you tired constantly, don't compare your energy levels to someone who doesn't take those meds.
If you have issues with concentration, then you won't be able to pay attention as well as someone who doesn't.
If you're in the deep end of a pool, then you can't compare how well you keep your head above water to someone who is standing in a kiddie pool.
Please try to think of these things when you feel "lazy" or "childish" or "a failure" compared to other people that don't struggle with the same symptoms as you. If you have a mental illness that will affect how you act in everyday situations, then it will in fact affect you in everyday situations. It's not an excuse, it's just a reality. We need to try to be kinder to ourselves.
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zuzsenpai · 5 months ago
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Ear infections suck so bad like there’s literally no position I can lie down on my pillow where I won’t feel like someone is repeatedly stabbing me in the ear with a sword
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compassionatereminders · 2 years ago
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I am struggling today. I’m writing a story, nothing ground breaking or amazing, but it’s mine and I’m so close to finishing but I’ve had writer’s block for weeks. I’ve tried everything and everyone says it’s takes time, just rest, a few weeks of not writing is not that many. But the thing is, I have a degenerative condition and my recent check up was not optimistic. I’m looking at full paralysis in the next year, and I’m just so terrified I’m not going to finish my story before it happens. I know when it does, I’ll be concerned with way more important things than finishing my stupid story no one but my kids will ever read. And I also know there are ways I can possibly finish even with paralysis.
But it still feels like I’m racing a clock and I don’t even know when the time will be up and every day Im not writing feels like I’ve wasted time. I know I’m going to be such a burden on my family soon, and my kids are so young now they will have so few memories of me outside of my chair. And it feels like if I can write this and have something to show for myself, some way for my kids to know who I am later on, maybe it won’t be so terrible. I know it sounds silly, but this story has kept me going through this diagnosis and now that I can’t seem to finish I feel more scared of it than ever.
No, that does not sound silly at all. There's no way I could possibly understand or relate to what you're going through while facing full paralysis, but finding something to hold on to while dealing with that kind of stressor is fucking resilient - NOT pathetic. I hope you manage to finish your story, dear anon. I think it's great that you're writing it
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illbringthechaosmagic · 2 months ago
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@thenexusofsouls
Wanda didn't get angry that Tony slept in longer now. She didn't force him to get up at the crack of dawn, or whenever she woke up, or whenever Peter needed a feed. She knew that he needed the rest, that after everything he had gone through, he deserved to sleep in. And so, she would set about getting the house ready, make sure that their son was washed, fed and changed and happy. Then when she had him settled, she would go and wake her lover gently.
She gave him a gentle kiss before helping him up into a sitting position, her hand rubbing at his back gently. Whilst he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, she moved to grab his sleeve, sitting herself down beside him to help slip it on his arm. She was in awe of the technology, in awe that her partner had been the one to create such a piece and how it helped ease the pain and mobility of his arm.
"You don't need to thank me handsome," she replied, placing another kiss against his cheek as he activated the sleeve. "I saved you some bacon and eggs if you're hungry, or maybe we could make ourselves an early lunch?" She suggested, not wanting him to feel bad for the fact he had missed making breakfast. "Though I have a feeling that you might have your attention stolen away when we go into the living room. Someone has been asking for daddy," she teased, her fingers brushing through his hair.
"You're too sweet," she smiled, a slight rosy colour flushing her cheeks at his compliment. "But I haven't done anything different. Apart from getting some coffee down my shirt."
Wanda made her way into the bedroom, gently opening the blinds. Glancing over at Tony in the bed, she moved to sit down at the side of him, her hand gently brushing over his cheek. “Time to wake up baby,” she whispered. (For the endgame au)
Tony was still sleeping for a while after Wanda was already up. He slept in later now, needing the rest. Not that he was an early riser before his near-death experience - experiences - but after that fateful battle against Thanos, Tony just wasn't the same. Mentally, he was faring about as well as he could be, with both the defeat of Thanos and the ability to set a lot of what the Mad Titan had caused right again giving his mood a much-needed boost. But physically, Tony would never be the same again.
He almost lost his arm, or at best, it was thought that he'd completely lose all use of it. Thanks to his own nanotechnology, though, he did regain function of his right arm, but on a limited basis. He'd made use of a sleeve/glove combination with the ability to provide compression, reduce tremors and spasms, and improve mobility and muscle strength. Without it, his arm was almost useless, shaking so much that he couldn't really control his movements. His hand was so weak he couldn't actually pick up anything with it. But with the sleeve and glove, the effects of the nerve damage were greatly reduced.
Tony took the sleeve off at night to give his arm a break, and required help getting it back on. It was a tight fit after all, by design. Once on, a simple push of a button would activate the nanotech and the sleeve would fit itself over his hand and shoulder, holding it in place and connecting electrically to the nerves in his arms and hand. Pain was still an issue, but the sleeve helped with that as well.
He blinked lazily as light flooded the room and he heard Wanda's voice. What he'd do without her, he didn't know. Not only because he needed help on a day to day basis, but her love and emotional support were absolutely getting him by right now. Though he still had in the back of his mind that he'd be back to his old self someday, every medical professional who'd worked on him after he'd made that all-important snap was telling him that he was lucky to even be alive. He supposed he should count his blessings, but for someone who had always been strong and active, Tony's ego and happiness did take significant hits.
Wanda, though... God, she was amazing. She helped take care of him and their little Peter, and didn't seem to mind doing so one bit. Tony felt guilty about how much he was leaning on her, but he did what he could, when he could. Morning were always rough starts, and he wound down a lot quicker at night, but during the day, Tony was about as close to his old self as he could get.
He smiled as he strained to sit up in bed, feeling Wanda's hand at his back, already helping him. "Thanks..." he said, his voice raspy and dry. Yawning, he sat on the edge of the bed, his right arm already starting to trembled. He massaged it with his left hand as Wanda already reached for the sleeve. Tony smiled, a grateful if not slightly guilty smile as she held push the sleeve onto his arm. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered, looking at her with such love in his eyes. Once it was on and activated, Tony moved his arm and hand a bit. "Much better," he said with a grin.
Things were peaceful at their little cabin by the lake. Tony was officially retired now, permanently. His injuries and essentially disabled stated demanded that, but he'd also wanted to hang up his helmet for other reasons too. Now was the time to focus on family - on Wanda and their son - and to settle down a bit. Tony never thought he'd be thinking that way but, after everything that'd happened, he was ready.
"Can I help with breakfast, or... is it not... uh..." he trailed off, leaning to look at the digital clock on the nightstand. "Okay, yeah, it's only eleven. There's still time for breakfast or some kind of interesting early lunch," he said with a smile. "You look beautiful today," he then said, looking up at her from where he sat. Maybe there was nothing special about how she looked today verses on other days, but to him, she was beautiful every day.
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destielmemenews · 4 months ago
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Dragoneer died of complications from a lung infection. His last social media posts detail a frustrating ordeal with his insurance and have ignited criticisms of the US healthcare system.
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faeriekit · 4 months ago
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Health and Hybrids (XXVI)👽👻💚
[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]
🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.
💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)
Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Diana helps mediate. Stinky Dad and the Alien Guy observe.
Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.
💚👻👽👻💚
“His control over his emotions slipped during the interview,” J’onn sighs, hovering alongside Bruce as they carry down the hall.
Bruce grunts. He isn’t quite capable of complicated speech yet. The teenage alien crying, too scared to let even the internationally-favorite, universally beloved Wonder Woman hold him without screaming…a person he already knew would take care of him…
J’onn continues, nevertheless. The thin privacy of his mind aside, Bruce has always appreciated the Martian’s understanding of Bruce’s oft-shifting moods. “His memories of his home and his family were tied up with extensive pain. I would continue under the assumption that his human family turned on him after discovering his nature—there may have even been collateral damage to others around them at the time.”
Bruce breathes in. Bruce breathes out.
“He thought himself akin enough to humans to be betrayed when he was seen as an 'other'. He knows that he is far from home, he knows that he has been targeted for his non-human traits and abilities, and he has reasons to think that he may not return again—what they are, I could not tell, but the sentiment was clear. This escape was purposeful, as was commandeering the vehicle he used to do so. He is alone. He is scared.”
“Known or unknown threat?” Bruce growls, not quite up to elongating his bite into a full sentence. J’onn is more than skilled enough to skim lightly over the words, and match them to Batman’s pointed fury.
“Our patient is familiar with the threat. I could not recognize the insignia or acronym from his memories, but they had enough resources to keep him captive and alive—without food or water. Likely, for a lengthy amount of time.”
Bruce’s near-running stride slows to a stop. J’onn, ever-patient, floats to a standstill beside him.
“No food,” Bruce confirms, just to make sure he heard correctly.
J’onn nods.
“No water.”
“There was an alternative method used to keep him alive, although the details weren’t significant to him in his flashback. The method may have been possible due to his minor healing ability, or something unique to his species.”
No food, Bruce thinks. No water. Kept alive as a function. Worried that he’s meant to be used as a weapon, kept in isolation, afraid of what humans in uniform might require of him for help.
This isn’t just torture. It is, specifically targeting a half-human entity, entirely purposeful dehumanization.
Of a child.
Of a child.
Bruce inhales. Bruce exhales.
This is not something that will be solved short-term. He has to keep an eye on the long-term goals for this teen—safety, recovery, reassurance, and reintegration.
Doable. All he has to do is break larger goals down into reasonable steps.
“Update the pediatric psychiatrist that Dr. Martin referred him to on the details.” Bruce’s demand comes out as flat as it gets. It is hard, when he’s stressed, to make his words hit with any intonation. Everything he forces out is precise. To the point.
J’onn nods. “I will.”
“This is personal medical information, to be accessed only on a need to know basis.”  
J’onn floats slightly higher, something relaxed in his face. This is a significant gesture, meant to remind everyone involved that this is a child, not a resource, and not a mission to be solved. This is a patient. “Understood.”
“If you pass this on to Diana, do it in person. Minimizing documentation…” Bruce falters. There isn’t a strong, authoritarian way to phrase how he feels about being someone to store clinically cold information about a boy who had likely been imprisoned, if not actively experimented on, if not actively tortured. How he needed to minimize behaviors that would exactly model what was done to the boy by his captors.
A smile flickers over J’onn’s expression. It’s suitably fleeting, but it comes and it goes—and it’s extremely polite of him to emote so visibly for Bruce’s sake. He makes sure to project his appreciation as best he knows how—blindly, without a telepathic sense to know what J’onn will and will not see.
“Understood, Batman.”
Bruce grunts.
They split at the end of the hallway, each dedicated to their own tasks.
J’onn will inform the medical team of what triggers may affect their patient’s long-term recovery and the quality of their stay. He is a thorough and patient coworker, and Bruce is grateful to have him on his side.
Bruce, in the meantime, has a favor to ask of Alfred and Dick on their way back into Gotham; more importantly, this is a favor he has to ask of Alfred’s employment-provided Costco card.
*
There’s something new in Danny’s room.
He transfers himself into the wheelchair to look at it, scrambling down the bed the way the physical therapist taught him to—the new thing isn't at bed height, but it is pretty low, and it has a door that he could probably reach from seated height or standing.
The square thing’s door swings open.
Inside are…little water bottles. Canned juices. Those mushy fruit-filled bars, and something so obviously wrapped in a yellow Fig Einstein wrapper that even the gibberish non-English is super clear.
There’s a bunch of things. Just. So many; and all in a few different types, too. The whole thing is filled with so many choices.
…Huh.
There are disposable straws in the door. Danny has to borrow a nurse’s ID card to open the can tab in the end, and his unwrapping of a straw is more than a little shaky, but Danny takes his medication with a mango-pineapple juice blend instead of his usual cup of water, and he’s perfectly fine with that.
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