#mostly worried about my health insurance

[dandylovesturtles]

Hello, I really enjoy your amazing fics and was wondering if you were still planning to make the second chapter of "say something true."

Either way I hope that your having an amazing day or night.

Thank you!

Yes I do still plan on writing the second chapter, as well as the rest of the room fic. However without getting too deep into it, I got laid off from work and fic writing has taken a backseat while I try to get a new job and work out what’s happening next.

Thanks in advance for your patience!

[sollucets]

. . .

[porcupine-girl]

Things we already know about the UHC shooter, mostly from his social media:

- He has a bachelor’s and Master’s in computer science from an Ivy League school.

- He has read several books on chronic back pain.

- His profile banner includes a photo of an x-ray for back surgery. (Spinal fusion I believe.)

- Based on messages from his family, he dropped off the map a few months ago and they’ve been worried about him.

- His political beliefs are a bit all over the map; without doing a deep-dive my take is a pretty average centrist tech bro who’s read too much evopsych.

I’m a bit worried that, as the left is so fond of doing, people will turn on him immediately for that last part. Let’s not do that! Can we agree not to do that? Because here’s the important thing:

He’s a victim of the system, just like we all are. The system pushed him past his limits, and he lashed out at it. The details of his political leanings don’t actually matter - what matters is that you don’t have to be a radical leftist to lash out at a health insurance company. That’s shows how bad things are broken, that a guy who seems fairly privileged in most respects, with no strong political motive, could be beaten down and broken to the point of doing this. He has two Ivy League computer science degrees and yet had nothing left to lose.

This is a class war that doesn’t differentiate between the working class, middle class, even upper middle class. We’re all dog food for the 1% to chew up and spit out. Even if he turned out to be hardcore right wing, in this one single issue we’re united with him.

Everyone’s been talking about how this guy has seen insane levels of support across the political spectrum - which means nobody should be shocked that he could have come from any spot on that spectrum. I’m hoping the fact that he doesn’t seem super far left or right politically will make it easier to keep that unity, but the left just looooves our purity tests. Let’s maybe not this time.

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for quietellen; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“. . . oh,” Billy says, and blinks at him instead. Huh. “Wow, that is so much more than they charge at the ER. Or even for like, fertility treatments and stuff.” 

What a weird thing for Cadmus to have told Lynn, though. 

Lynn blinks too, looking startled. Billy doesn’t know what was startling about that? Unless maybe Lynn doesn’t really know much about monetary value yet scale-wise, anyway, or like, maybe Cadmus just didn’t explain how stupid health insurance is and all the stuff it doesn’t cover. Or maybe they did and were pricks who don’t know how to vote in their own self-interest about it, which is also maybe a concern, considering. 

Probably he should explain insurance to Lynn later, yeah. And maybe healthcare. Like, obviously the League’ll deal with it if Lynn ever gets sick, because Lynn is Kryptonian and therefore a regular hospital probably couldn’t deal with it if he ever got sick, but also it’s better if he knows that kind of thing. Just like–so he understands, Billy means. Gets where the people he’s saving are coming from, and what kind of stuff they’re dealing with. 

It’s important, getting that kind of thing. 

“I count as a real kid to you,” Lynn says for . . . some reason, his voice stiff, and Billy–blinks, again, and tilts his head. Lynn’s face is back to blank, but even blank-faced, he kind of still looks tense and uncomfortable. Superman doesn’t look like that when his face is–well, no, actually, Superman’s face doesn’t really go blank, does it, Billy realizes. He’s always got something showing, emotionally speaking. 

That’s kinda weird, come to think, because Billy also doesn’t really think of Superman as someone who’s, like, super-open or anything? Like, he shows a lot of emotion and stuff, Billy guesses, but Billy doesn’t really know anything about him. Mostly people don’t, as far as he can tell. 

Also, he can’t really think of all that many times he’s seen Superman showing a negative emotion, now that he is thinking about it. Like, a few times during really bad fights or after some really awful thing Superman clearly blamed himself for, but not like, just day-to-day. Superman doesn’t ever seem to be impatient or cranky or in a bad mood, like, ever. 

That’s . . . weird, yeah. Huh. 

But also, more importantly–

Billy frowns to himself, and then frowns a little deeper and tilts his head a little more. Looks at Lynn and all his tension and discomfort and negative emotions, and . . . 

“You definitely count as a real kid to me,” he promises him again, because he’s probably going to have to promise that a few times before Lynn really believes it anyway, and he’d kinda figured that out already. “You’re my real kid.” 

Those are both probably things Lynn’s worried about, he figures. Being somebody’s real kid, and being a real kid at all.

[anonymous-dentist]

Bleeding Heart Part Five

Part One | Previous Part

-

"Mr. Balanar?"

"Yes?"

"Hi! I'm the nurse at your son's school, and-"

"What!? Is Richarlyson okay? What happened?"

"Well, unfortunately your son did have a bit of an incident this morning. He threw up all over his clothes, and he's running a slight fever. I'm going to have to ask you to pick him up."

"Of course. I'm on my way."

-

Cellbit lets out an anxious breath and slumps into a seat. His foot taps against the floor, his other leg bounces. He wipes his palms on his jeans and flashes a fake smile at the concerned secretary.

It's only been an hour and a half since Pac dropped Richarlyson off at school. Cellbit knows this because he knows Richarlyson's schedule better than Richarlyson does, he knows precisely when school starts, and he knows that Richarlyson has only actually been in class for an hour. The first half hour of his day is a school-provided breakfast.

It's only been an hour and a half, but Richarlyson has somehow developed a fever in that hour and a half. He wasn't sick earlier, obviously, so.

Is his son dying? No, right? He's fine. It might have been the breakfast. Richarlyson complains about it all the time, he hates it.

Maybe Pac just missed the fever. Richarlyson has a habit of not mentioning he's feeling sick until he's ready to be thrown into an ambulance; Cellbit understands, he feels the same way. Hospitals are too... cold.

So it's logical that Richarlyson is sick now. It's logical. Cellbit doesn't need to be worried.

Cellbit pulls out his phone to text Pac an update: 'Waiting in the front office now. Taking Richas home, I'll take care of him'

Pac, of course, wants Richarlyson to go to a doctor. But Pac also knows that nobody in the family can exactly afford a doctor; Bagi is the only one with health insurance, but it doesn't cover anyone but her.

(Pac also knows that Richarlyson can't so much as smell antiseptic wipes without acting out. So him going with Cellbit is probably for the best; nobody else understands just gets it.)

Cellbit doesn't react as the secretary buzzes someone else into the school. He doesn't react as the door opens beside him, and he doesn't react as he hears a small group of people walk into the office muttering amongst themselves. He keeps looking at his phone, mostly so the secretary doesn't feel obligated to try and calm him down.

But:

"Mr. Balanar, hello!"

And, suddenly, he can hear his own heartbeat and nothing else.

Slowly, Cellbit lets out a breath. He smiles, polite, and he places his phone screen-down in his lap. He looks up, and he nods oh so politely.

"Cucurucho," he very politely greets.

In all white stands C.B. Cucurucho, the Federation's 'civilian liaison' and Cellbit's worst enemy. The goddamn bastard.

They're smiling, because of course they fucking are. Their teeth are absolutely blinding- straight and white as a military graveyard.

"What a surprise to see you here!" they exclaim.

They lean closer, hands behind their back, head cocked slightly to the side. "Did you get my email?"

Nobody knows what the 'C.B.' stands for in their name. Nobody knows what their powers are. They're an enigma even down to their appearance: sleek, white hair down to their mid-back straight out of a shampoo commercial; pale skin akin to that of a corpse's; long, sharp nails like claws; and a pair of eyes constantly hidden behind black circular sunglasses. Their suit is sharp, their heels are pointed, and their lipstick is red.

Cellbit hates them.

Behind Cucurucho, their group of Federation employees all go to sign in to the front desk. There's a handful of people in suits and two heroes in goofy outfits who do not look like they want to be there. Newer ones, probably. Less popular than Bluebird, too, or they wouldn't have to be doing school events.

Cellbit nods. Doesn't say anything.

He and Cucurucho have beef. He hates Cucurucho, and Cucurucho doesn't really acknowledge beyond him being Detective Bagi Webber's twin brother. He wants Cucurucho dead, and Cucurucho sends him and Bagi Christmas cards every year. He wants to squeeze the life out of Cucurucho's shitty fucking heart with his own bare hands, and Cucurucho keeps adding him to the Federation promotional email list.

He and Cucurucho have beef.

The group of Feds all filter out of the office and into the hallway beyond, following the secretary to wherever they're supposed to be going, but Cucurucho stays behind. They're tall on their own, but them being in high heels and Cellbit being seated makes them loom above him almost imposingly. Their glasses are so dark that he can see his reflection in them, and he looks so small, somehow.

Cellbit bites back a shiver. Even with a jacket on, he's so cold.

"I hope you consider my offer," Cucurucho says. "I'm sure your camera has been returned to you by the police department by now. There shouldn't be any trouble getting those pictures over to me."

"Just ask Bagi for them," Cellbit politely huffs.

Cucurucho shakes their head. "And take the credit away from you? Come on, Mr. Balanar, who do you think we are? The Federation of Heroes takes pride in its civilian associates and their work. You'll be credited and compensated."

Kill yourself, Cellbit thinks. Fucking die already.

"I'm not interested," he flatly says.

Clicking their tongue disapprovingly, Cucurucho sighs and stands back upright.

"You know," they say, "I made an effort to look through your records before emailing you. It's a shame it never worked out between us, but I do think that a collaboration would work. You have talent, Mr. Balanar. The Federation could easily put it to use."

Cellbit shivers, pulls his coat closed across his chest subconsciously.

He doesn't respond. He just watches as Cucurucho turns to the front desk, flipping their hair back over their shoulder as they go. They sign in.

As they turn to follow their group into the school, Cucurucho pauses to give Cellbit one last look.

"I'll be in touch," they say.

And, with that, they leave.

Cellbit folds over in his chair as soon as they're gone, head falling into his (shaking) hands and shoulders tense and heaving. He can't fucking breathe-

The door to the school opens again, and Cellbit snaps his head up just in time to see the nurse leading a very embarrassed Richarlyson into the office with her hand on his shoulder. His clothes are damp, and his face is visibly shining with sweat.

Immediately, Cellbit is out of his seat and swooping in to pick Richarlyson up. He takes Richarlyson's backpack and slings it over his own shoulder.

"Come on, filho, let's go home," he murmurs.

"Yeah, 'kay," Richarlyson whimpers.

The nurse waves them off with a worried frown.

Richarlyson is so light, he always has been. But today, he seems lighter, somehow. Oh, God, is he dying? That's just what Cellbit needs, a dying son. Great. Great!

As soon as they're on the street and away from the school, though, Richarlyson starts wriggling and begging to be set down.

"What?" Cellbit asks. "No, you're sick, and I'm your dad. Shut up."

"But I'm not!" Richarlyson whines. "I made myself sick! Put me down!"

He kicks and writhes until Cellbit is forced to set him down on the sidewalk. Almost immediately, Richarlyson's face is back to normal. No sweat, no sickness, nothing.

On a hunch, Cellbit unzips Richarlyson's backpack and sees an open notebook in it. With. With a sick Richarlyson drawn inside it.

He narrows his eyes at his son, who just shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets.

"I didn't wanna go to the Junior Heroes presentation," he explains. "Fuck that."

"Oh," Cellbit quietly says.

The Junior Heroes... ugh. Everything about them makes Cellbit's stomach turn uncomfortably. They make him sick, actually. And it's not the kids' faults, but. But what kind of parents actually sign their kids up for what's essentially a war on crime?

Richarlyson jumps up to get his bag back. Cellbit lets him; he faked being sick, he can carry his own shit.

They start walking again, towards the subway that'll take them back to Cellbit's apartment.

"I didn't know they were coming today, or I would've skipped," Richarlyson continues. "I only found out after breakfast, and apparently they're recruiting or something? Today was supposed to be some huge presentation trying to get us to sign up, but, like, nah. Fuck that."

Cellbit nods. "Fair."

It explains why Cucurucho was there, at least. And the two heroes are probably graduates of the Junior Heroes Program.

Cellbit has beef with Cucurucho.

He extends his hand towards Richarlyson, and Richarlyson takes it.

"Come on," he tells his absolute genius of a son. "I'm proud of you for getting out of there. Let's get ice cream."

"What, really?" Richarlyson gasps.

Cellbit smiles at him. "Yeah, 'really'. You basically tricked Cucurucho. That deserves a reward."

Richarlyson cheers, and Cellbit cheers with him. Sure, they look stupid jumping and fist-pumping and shouting in the middle of the street, but if being annoying was a crime, Cellbit would have been arrested years ago. Richarlyson is a kid, he should get to be as annoying as he wants to be. He deserves that much, at least.

"You're my favorite dad ever!" Richarlyson exclaims.

"I'll be sure to tell Pai Felps that you said that," Cellbit teases.

Richarlyson gasps and shakes his head. "Noooooooooooooo, he's my actual favorite, you can't do that!"

"Sure I can. It'll be your punishment for abusing your powers in public."

"But dad!"

"You know the rules, Richas. If I have to follow them, so do you."

Richarlyson groans, but he knows that Cellbit is right. He hates it, but Cellbit is right. Cellbit hates it, but Cellbit is right.

With Richarlyson complaining, they turn away from their subway station and towards the street leading to Richarlyson's favorite ice cream parlor. With any luck, Bad won't be working today, so Cellbit won't have to explain why he's there with his son when he's supposed to be editing and Richarlyson is supposed to be at school.

(As they walk towards the ice cream parlor, Cellbit swears he sees a shadow following them from on top of the nearby buildings.

He flips the shadow off.

Fucking creep.)

--

A/N: Let me know what you think in the tags or in my inbox! I want to hear your theories, thoughts, opinions, everything!

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

A lot of good sources linked in the original article!

By Bruce Mirken

As the dangers of Long COVID become more recognized, the country's going backwards on preventing new infections.

While I’m far from the only person worried about Long COVID and our society’s general inclination to look away and pretend it’s not there, people like me certainly feel badly outnumbered. It’s beginning to feel reminiscent of how people with AIDS and their loved ones felt circa 1986—and maybe it’s time for the same kind of response.

For those of you lucky enough not to have lived through that era, by the end of 1986, AIDS had killed nearly 25,000 Americans, but president Ronald Reagan had yet to speak the word “AIDS.” His press secretary had joked about it and the White House press corps laughed. While individual scientists were doing important work, the bureaucracies running the NIH and FDA seemed very much to be in business-as-usual mode. Because the casualties had largely been gay men and injection drug users, it seemed like no one with any power cared whether we lived or died.

So, a group of New Yorkers – mostly gay men – decided it was time to start raising hell. Calling themselves ACT UP, they disrupted the New York Stock Exchange and, as chapters sprang up nationwide, they staged protests that shut down the FDA and NIH. Eventually, people like Anthony Fauci began to see they had a point. I joined the Los Angeles ACT UP chapter in 1988 and ended up getting arrested half a dozen times in protests at the LA federal building, the County Board of Supervisors and the U.S. Capitol, among others. We won major improvements in HIV/AIDS care in the Los Angeles County health system, which cared for thousands of people with AIDS who had no health insurance. When I landed in San Francisco in 1993, I connected with ACT UP Golden Gate.

Here I am (with my late boyfriend Tim at the left) at one of the protests in that L.A County healthcare campaign. Most of my closest friends from that era have been dead for decades.

I get that COVID has played out very differently than HIV/AIDS. AIDS ramped up slowly and seemed not to affect “normal” people until it killed closeted gay movie and TV star Rock Hudson in 1985, and even then officials largely looked the other way. Only scientific breakthroughs in the 1990s finally stemmed the tide of death. In contrast, the much more highly transmissible SARS-CoV-2 virus came on fast and furious, turning Americans’ lives upside-down almost immediately.

But now, we’ve arrived at what seems in some ways like an eerily similar place. When needed precautions to curb a highly infectious airborne virus spurred frustration and political pushback, officials largely threw up their hands and gave up. Even measures that don’t involve mandates or restrictions on behavior have mostly either been dropped or never happened in the first place.

LONG COVID’S GROWING TOLL

Unfortunately, the virus hasn’t gone away, even if the initial wave of mass death has receded. In August, as a summer surge peaked, US COVID-19 deaths exceeded 1,000 per week, though the latest September data suggests the numbers have begun declining toward pre-surge levels, when deaths were generally in the 300-400 per week range. That’s still equal to a 9/11 every eight to 10 days. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention tracking of SARS-CoV-2 levels in wastewater—probably the best data on US viral prevalence now that cases aren’t being reliably tracked—showed 15 states with “very high” levels and another 19 rated as “high” as of Sept. 19.

But COVID is not just a matter of cases and deaths. The disease’s long-term effects have disabled millions of Americans, and the numbers keep growing with each new wave of infection. An updated review published in Nature Medicine puts the current global number of Long COVID sufferers at 400 million and estimates the worldwide economic impact at a staggering $1 trillion.

We now have plenty of people experiencing repeated SARS-CoV-2 infections. The good news, if you can call it that, is that these reinfections may produce fewer new cases of Long Covid than a person’s first infection – but they absolutely produce some, and the Omicron variants circulating in the last year or two seem to produce more Long Covid than earlier viral varieties. Every time you get COVID, you roll the dice with your health – maybe for the rest of your life.

If I sound alarmed, well, I am. As longtime readers may know, I have some first-hand experience with Long COVID, though in milder form than many experience. My January 2022 infection left me with peripheral neuropathy—painful nerve damage—in my legs and feet. It’s incurable and nearly impossible to treat, as conventional pain drugs don’t help. I will likely never live another day without pain and walking more than six or seven blocks at a stretch is a struggle. I used to enjoy hiking, but will probably never do it again. Still, I don’t have the more debilitating symptoms like crushing fatigue or dysautonomia—disruption of the part of the nervous system that controls automatic functions like heartbeat, blood pressure, digestion and breathing—that afflict some Long COVID sufferers. Lots of people have it way worse than I do.

We know that COVID can have lasting impacts on many parts of the body, including the brain. A recent study of 52 COVID survivors—about half with mild to moderate initial illness and half with more severe disease—found that compared to healthy controls, both groups “had a significantly higher score of cognitive complaints involving cognitive failure and mental fatigue” 27 months after their original illness, with no significant difference based on the severity of that initial illness. On a series of tests, researchers found “changes in brain function” that may explain the reported problems.

Just as scary, a study of people aged 65 and up just published in the Journal of Alzheimer’s Disease reports that “people with COVID were at significantly increased risk for new diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease within 360 days after the initial COVID diagnosis.” This review of the medical records of over six million patients found that the risk escalated with advancing age. As with many of these long-term impacts, the mechanisms involved remain unclear.

Survivors of an initial SARS-CoV-2 infection also have increased rates of high blood pressure, now documented in multiple studies. High blood pressure increases your risk of deadly cardiovascular complications like heart attack and stroke.

I can’t help but wonder whether these issues have affected me, but there’s no way to be sure. My blood pressure, well-controlled for a dozen years with a very low dose of medication, began ratcheting upward about a year and a half ago, necessitating three medication adjustments since then. I’m also definitely more forgetful than I was, mostly little things like walking into a room and forgetting why I went there. But those things can happen to older people with or without COVID, and it’s hard to know cause-and-effect in a given individual.

But I sure as hell know I don’t want to get this virus again and risk these and other issues getting worse. Unfortunately, avoiding it is getting harder by the day, and neither government at any level nor public health authorities seem to care.

PREVENTION? WHAT PREVENTION?

While there’s some evidence that the antiviral drug Paxlovid can reduce the likelihood of Long COVID if administered early enough, the results so far are mixed and not overwhelming. The best way to avoid Long COVID is to not get infected in the first place. As a society, we’ve pretty much stopped trying.

The government is still encouraging vaccination, as it should. But it’s been clear for some time that while the vaccines are very good at reducing the chance of severe illness and death if you get infected, they offer only limited protection against getting infected in the first place. “Vax and relax” can prevent mass death, but it can’t prevent mass infection and an ever-growing number of cases of Long COVID, even if most people get vaccinated. And vaccination rates have been declining for a while, with a new Ohio State University survey reporting that only 43% of U.S. adults have gotten or plan to get the new COVID-19 shot.

And in a bit of absolute madness, Florida’s Ron DeSantis-appointed Surgeon General Joseph Ladapo has actually advised against use of the newly updated mRNA vaccines. In a post on Mastodon, Yale epidemiologist Gregg Gonsalves called this “beyond irresponsible. It is malpractice.”

Ladapo is an outlier, but even his saner colleagues around the country downplay the fact that we don’t have to limit ourselves to vaccination. It’s an airborne virus, so there are two main ways to stop it from spreading: 1) Get the virus out of the air, or at least reduce its concentration to a very low level, and 2) Protect yourself from breathing in any virus that’s in the air around you. We know how to do both.

Masking works, but the type of mask matters. As the Mayo Clinic notes, “Respirators such as nonsurgical N95s give the most protection. KN95s and medical masks provide the next highest level of protection. Cloth masks provide less protection.” Two and a half years ago, a CDC study found that those who reported regularly wearing an N95 or KN95 respirator in indoor public settings had an 86% lower risk of catching COVID-19.

Recently, during my first return visit to San Francisco after moving in early 2022, I met my nieces for lunch at the Ferry Plaza. It was a Saturday, Farmers Market day, and the place was jammed. In three-plus hours I saw no more than half a dozen people wearing any sort of mask, and only a couple were N95s. In my new hometown of Hilo, masking is only slightly more common. At the supermarket, I see barely 10% of customers and staff in some sort of mask. In some venues, it’s less.

A recent Ipsos survey found that half of Americans believe they’ll never get COVID again. Only 20% described themselves as “trying to stay as safe as possible.”

None of this is a surprise—people are simply responding to the messages they get from the people supposedly leading on health issues. The CDC promotes vaccination but barely talks about masking anymore; it acknowledges the value of indoor air quality but doesn’t seem to be doing much about it. In interviews, CDC Director Mandy Cohen regularly urges vaccination but almost never brings up masking or air quality and says little about Long Covid. Political leaders mostly talk about COVID in the past tense and pat themselves on the back for a job well done in prior years. The result is what you’d expect: Most Americans now treat COVID like a common cold, disregarding most precautions and not bothering to test when they get sick.

Back in 2022, when public policy on COVID was still relatively sane, the Biden administration published indoor air quality guidance and made congressionally-approved funds available that “that can be used in schools, public buildings, and other settings to improve indoor air quality.” It’s unclear exactly how much of that money has been used and for what, although some school systems have definitely made HVAC upgrades. But we’ve never had either enforceable indoor air standards or a coordinated plan to implement them. As Science noted in July, “The COVID-19 pandemic has clearly shown the vulnerability of society to the spread of infectious diseases. At the same time, with frequent outbreaks in elder care facilities and school classrooms, it became clear that it was a fatal mistake to largely neglect the recommendations of scientists and engineers regarding minimum standards for ventilation and indoor air quality.”

In any case, those federal dollars were aimed at schools and public buildings. It’s been left entirely to the private sector to do, or not do, anything to reduce airborne pathogens in supermarkets, theaters, clubs, malls and other privately owned spaces. Local groups like Chicago’s Clean Air Club and Austin’s Clear the Air ATX have tried to fill the gap by lending HEPA filters and other clean air equipment to arts and performance venues and other gathering places.

A RADICAL IDEA: DO WHAT WORKS

We know what to do. As Clean Air Club founder Emily Dupree and co-author Shelby Speier wrote in Sick Times in May, “We possess the technology to make public spaces safer. Studies show HEPA air purification and far-UVC lamps drastically reduce the number of airborne pathogens in a room and therefore lessen the likelihood of COVID-19 transmission. When combined with other layers of protection, these tools have the potential to finally make our shared spaces more accessible during an airborne pandemic.”

A key word here is accessible. Failure to address indoor air quality and other prevention measures makes public spaces seriously dangerous for those at highest risk, including the elderly, the immunocompromised and those with long-term health issues, including Long Covid.

Such simple, factual messages are rarely heard in official statements about COVID. “What I find the most frustrating about official handling of COVID and prevention is the lack of care, education, and honoring the science around COVID,” comments Clear the Air ATX founder and Long Covid activist Katie Drackert. “Telling people to ‘stay home when they feel sick’ for a virus that spreads asymptomatically? Well, they are just straight up ignoring science.”

Admirable as they are, the small, volunteer-driven efforts of groups like Drackert’s and Dupree’s are not remotely comparable to the scale of the problem. For now, people must take matters into their own hands. “In the year 2024, people still need to be wearing a well fitted KN95 or above for optimal communal and individual protection,” Drackert says. In the absence of reliable information about air quality in indoor spaces, she suggests getting a portable air quality monitor, which can be reasonably affordable. “High CO₂ levels indicate poor ventilation, which may lead to higher concentrations of aerosols that could contain the virus,” she explains. “Some air quality monitors track particulate matter (PM2.5 and PM10), which are small airborne particles. While COVID is smaller than these particles, high PM levels may indicate poor indoor air quality.”

Most of us can’t entirely avoid being in spaces with poor air quality, and that leaves us with masking, which the country has largely abandoned. Worse, we’re starting to see bans on face coverings in public spaces being enacted—for example, in Nassau County, New York, and North Carolina.

These laws typically contain exceptions for people masking for health reasons, but, as New Jersey’s Star-Ledger noted in a recent editorial opposing a proposed mask ban, “t leaves it up to the cops to decide whether someone has a legitimate medical reason for wearing a mask at a public gathering. “How will they know that? It’s subjective. And based on past experience, we know what that means: Police will disproportionately stop and question Black and brown people, who have also been the most likely to continue wearing masks to protect against COVID-19.” It’s hard to imagine a more demented public policy than making disease prevention illegal. And it’s not hard at all to imagine a COVID-19 prevention framework that would make a meaningful difference without causing a nationwide freakout: Encourage masking. Even if mask mandates are a political non-starter, there’s still plenty we can do. First, officials can talk about it and actively encourage people to wear high-quality protection like N-95s when in busy, indoor spaces. They can remind people of its importance—that COVID is not over, not just a cold, and that even a “mild” case can change your life forever. Federal, state and local governments could distribute N-95s or KN-95s free or at minimal cost. Get serious about indoor air purification. Build on what the Biden administration started a few years ago: Develop medically informed, enforceable indoor air quality standards and create a verification system so that people know when a building they enter meets them. Start with public buildings and the largest, busiest private venues, like sports arenas, concert halls and theaters, and move on from there. Give business owners generous technical and financial support in meeting those standards, and a reasonable amount of time in which to do it. While this program is ramping up, fund the local organizations now struggling with limited resources to fill the gap. None of this is that difficult. It’s not even that expensive when you consider that the federal government is in the process of spending $634 billion to upgrade nuclear weapons that with any luck will never be used. What’s missing is political will, and that won’t be there until people scream bloody murder. That’s why I think it may be time for a new version of ACT UP focused on COVID-19. The issues are somewhat different, but less so than you might think. While the original ACT UP focused a lot on research, treatment and care, it also addressed prevention. ACT UP chapters around the country started syringe exchange programs, handed out condoms at high schools, and sometimes succeeded in shaming the system into doing the right thing. And of course, there are issues to tackle around Long Covid research that I haven’t addressed here, but which I will try to cover in a future piece. The fundamental problem is much the same as people with AIDS faced in 1986: a system stuck in neutral, politicians stuck in denial, and a public closing their eyes, covering their ears and shouting, “I don’t hear you!” The first task must be to break the system–and the broader population, as much as possible–out of its present inertia, complacency and denial. I honestly don’t know whether ACT UP tactics like occupying the CDC and disrupting state and local health commission meetings will have the same effect they did decades ago, but at this point I don’t know what else to try. Nothing good lies at the end of our current path.

[eggsbenedictontherocks]

so i’m american but i lived in canada for a year of university before coming back to the states. when i was there i had university health insurance (as opposed to public insurance which pretty much all my friends had). when i had to go to the hospital for a UTI i was so concerned about the process — language barriers (i was in quebec), transportation, insurance, etc. i also felt like i was on the verge of death, but mostly i was worried about the administrative stuff. a very american mindset.

i made sure i had my emergency credit card from my dad, with a $10k limit on it because his credit is insane, and took the metro two stops and walked myself into the ER. it was an english hospital, run by my university, so they were aware of the insurance policy and often dealt with students on school insurance. (btw i had medavie blue cross, i.e. part of the canadian BCBS network.)

because canadian healthcare is kind of cracked — not as good as european systems, but WORLDS better than american — my insurance plan had pretty much the same coverage as RAMQ, or the provincial plan, and my entire ER visit was fully covered. i didn’t have to stay long, i was just seen by the doctor, gave a urine sample, and was given a prescription, but it was almost CA$1500 (US$1125 at the time) for the ER visit alone, and all of it was covered. my prescription was covered at i think 80%? and i paid about CA$5 (like US$3.80) on my dad’s credit card.

so for an ER visit, lab work, and prescription in canada, i paid less than five american dollars total. i’m lucky to have very good US insurance, but it’s not nearly as good as that. we’ve had a lot of problems, more than i could detail here. even though international insurance was super stressful, it wasn’t NEARLY as bad as my experience in the US.

[octuscle]

Hi, I was wondering if I could get some input. I work at a pretty large company- mostly construction related stuff, but me and my friends work on the accounting side. The higher ups have been laying off a lot of the white collar workers and offering them a deal to remain employed, but in positions where their skills are considered more valuable. Issue is, I haven't been able to get in touch with my friend since he took the offer. In fact, whenever I text him, I just get selfies of a guy I've never seen before on a construction site and lewd comments. I don't know what's going on and I'm worried. I just got a notice that my contract is up, but they have a deal for me. I don't know if I should take it- something seems really off.

I don't know about you, but I think the offer is fair. Two years job guarantee. Accident, health and pension insurance. The costs of retraining and the associated loss of working hours are reimbursed in full. And you are to be deployed together with your friend. Okay, there is a little less salary. But you are assured that the work will be much less mentally demanding. You said yourself that you are constantly on the verge of burnout. This might be a great opportunity! And you even get the rest of the day off! Loss, do it!

You sign. The boss from HR shakes your hand and says that you won't regret it. Your first assignment will be external, please be at the company's depot at 06:00 tomorrow morning. What the hell? Well, you've been given a day's vacation for that. And what are you going to do with it? Down in front of the company you stand in the sun. Beside you the box with your private things. You search in your jacket pocket for cigarettes. But you've already given up smoking in college. Fuck, man! You need a smoke now. And actually a beer, too. Dude, you're really out of it. Smokes are always in your sleeve pocket of your work jacket. The Zippo is in your pants pocket. Actually, you should quit smoking, you think to yourself. Or at least roll your own cigarettes. That shit is really too expensive. You grab your duffel bag and look for a bar. The one up ahead looks good. Sure, pretty empty at this time. But a couple of guys in Hi Viz clothes are standing in front of screens, watching sports news and drinking a beer. Probably on breakfast break. You order a beer, open the bottle with your lighter, empty it in one go and order the next one. Hey, your break is short, you have to use it. Shit, why break, today is your day off. Your buddy asks if you can stop by the construction site. If you want to finish today, they need every hand. Shit, in this company you never get off work. But if you're supposed to go to the new construction site tomorrow, you have to finish today, that's clear. So what? You're wearing the clothes anyway. And you've already got your stuff for tomorrow. Then let's go for a night shift!

By the time the bus comes to take you to the next construction site, you've been sleeping on the floor of the depot for maybe two hours. Anyway, the extra shift brought good money. And on the bus, you two can crash for another round. It's a tough job. But you don't know any different!

[mitigatedchaos]

Here's my hot take.

The human body is an extremely complex, finely-detailed machine that runs 24 hours a day, and which exists in an adversarial environment (against microbes, mostly). That it will break down eventually is inevitable.

Often, people don't think about their own mortality.

Privatized medicine puts a price on people's mortality. "Would you," it asks, "pay $50,000 to live another 10 years?" As it happens, if it's another 10 healthy years, that's a fantastic deal. However, it's forcing people to confront their own mortality at the same time that it's confronting them with a $50,000 bill and shoving the pen into their hands.

And of course, each year, the human body degrades, so each year, the next deal offered by privatized medicine is worse, until you reach some vague point where further survival is no longer worth the money, or no longer worth the effort it would take to get the money.

If you just want to give medical care to the poor, you could use vouchers. In addition to conventional moral justifications about compassion, fairness, "it could happen to any of us," etc, healing someone can also improve their productivity, and that includes getting them out of an illness-induced low-productivity doom loop where they can't pay for care because they won't be productive again until after receiving the care.

Under socialized medicine, the patient receives a tax bill every year. When they hit the injury, the government, the biggest authority in the land, either tells them yes or no, through their class of certified medical experts, who are also brimming with socially-maintained authority.

So the patient gets injured, and does not get confronted with a direct bill, and as they are facing their mortality, the big authority of the land tells them, "I'm so sorry, there is nothing we can do. 😔"

The price is still there. The procedure still costs perhaps $45,000. There never stopped being a price. We never stopped putting a monetary value on human life, as someone still had to make the call based on that price. It's just hidden.

This upsets a different set of people, who go, "Excuse me, you bureaucratic crank. I have $50,000. I can just buy this procedure. Who are you to tell me that I can't?"

Personally, my experience with the US Affordable Care Act (i.e. "Obamacare") has been that the healthcare.gov customer service has been effective and responsive, and I like not having to worry so much that I'll get dropped from coverage. Every health insurance policy not on the exchange appears to be fake, and moving away from Obamacare suggests turning more claims into simultaneously being sick while fighting a legal battle. However, I don't actually use much healthcare.

In the coming years, we may need to impose a cap on lifetime coverage through Obamacare in order for the system to remain solvent, as more diseases move from "untreatable" to "treatable, but very expensive." I selfishly hope that it will continue to pay spectacular amounts for gene therapies over the coming 5-10 years to build up the industrial base for the industry so that long-term costs come down, and we can say goodbye to, "Oops, my baby got a single mutation that gave him Logan's Run Disease, and is now going to die."

[kvalenagle]

Okay, I've been summoned to Tumblr by cute Satra and Lei fan art, so I should probably introduce myself and my books. Hello! I'm Vale, and I write creature fantasy as K. Vale Nagle. If you like interesting gryphons, you're in the right place: aquatic diving petrel/fishing cat gryphons, poisonous hooded pitohui/tiger gryphons, pretty gyrfalcon/snow leopard gryphons, intimidating Haast's eagle/saber-toothed tiger gryphons, soggy sandgrouse/sand cat gryphons, and a lot more. My series are epic fantasy using mostly real (though sometimes extinct) animals, free of humans but full of queer characters, intrigue, large battles, and ecological apocalypses. My cover art is by Jeff Brown, with interior graphite pieces by Brenda Lyons and gryphon chapter headers by Kittrel (whose chibi hearts you may have seen). I also have a short story collection (best read anytime after Starling, book three) with a beak-cute lesbian gryphon love story with terror birds, a Gryphon vs. Nature blizzard apocalypse tale, a Christmas-y story, and something pretty close to zombies. I've also written a full novel set in the world of Dire by John Bailey called Coldbright which can be found in the Tales of Feathers & Flames anthology. If you like GryphIns but you want something with more mystery, almost horror, as told through the eyes of a snarky little opinicus and his dire gryphon ex-boyfriend, it's a great read this time of year. I love and appreciate all the fan mail, fan fiction, fan letters, and people reaching out about this series. I'm a little slow replying, as I started writing the series right after getting diagnosed with a catastrophic autoimmune system. The treatments are pretty intense, and it's easiest for me to spend my time and energy writing. I used to have a few pen names across several genres, but for the most part, all of my energy goes into finishing up GryphIns. I'm married to dragon author Glenn Birmingham, so if you've seen us posting pictures of our cats and thought it's strange they share a name, they're the same cats. And that's about it. Just a queer author writing gryphony books when I'm not walking my cat. A few common answers to questions: Q: There are sometimes typos in social media, why is that? A: Catastrophic APS means I've had a stroke (and associated memory loss), so when a copy editor isn't coming up behind me, there'll be doubled words and typos from time-to-time. I used to worry about them, since they don't look good if you're an author! But I'd rather reply to fan letters and kind posts. I think if you've read my author notes at the back of my books, you know to expect a few doubled words here and there. Q: When you say a queer author, what do you mean? A: Since people ask about own voices and I have a lot of lgbtqia+ characters in my books, I'm pan, demi, trans, and genderfluid. I'm lucky enough to have a lot of queer friends and first readers who make sure I don't mess up any characters. Q: When's the next GryphIns novel coming out? A: Some years, I spend a lot of my time fighting health insurance battles, and it slows me down. Pridelord (#8) is currently in line edits. It's twice as long as Eyrie and three times as long as Coldbright, so it's a pretty big book! It shouldn't be too much longer. You'll know it's just about time because you'll hear James Scott Spaid talk about narrating the audiobook. Q: How many books will there be in GryphIns? A: I'm famous for underestimating how many books it takes to finish a series. My other pen names all wrote short stories and standalone novels, so my proposal for GryphIns originally had five books. Jeff Brown is wrapping up the cover for Saberbeak (#9) and Nighthaunt (#10). If I end up needing one more book to finish, though, don't be too surprised.

[dailyanarchistposts]

Author: Abbey Volcano Topics: anti-work, health care, work

This is a story about anger, “non-profits,” and pissing blood. I was in my fifth year working at an independent health food store run by religious fanatics in a suburb outside of the city and I needed more money. I started off part-time at a cultural center, working the events. I would mainly be there at night, during performances and exhibits—taking people’s tickets, helping the artists set up, serving hors d’oeuvres, cleaning the toilets, etc. I was paid $12/hr to do this work and it was the most I had ever made in my life and it was the only job that wasn’t in the service industry, so I was pretty excited. Pretty soon after I started they asked me if I could take over the secretarial position. This was a full-time desk job. I really needed the money, especially because the health food store was closing down since a Whole Foods had moved into town. I took the job since I couldn’t have really done much better as far as pay went.

I know some people think that non-profits are non-capitalist or are somehow better for society and people who work there and so on. People who work in management positions at non-profits tend to be kind of smug because of this. The place I worked didn’t really operate much differently from any other job, so if there’s a non-profit difference, I didn’t see it. This job had been salaried before I took it but they switched it to hourly and they had me work 10-5p instead of 9-5p so they could opt me out of health insurance, sick days, vacation leave, or bennies of any variety. At first I was happy about being able to start working later in the day (I’m a nocturnal insomniac) and I had never had insurance through a job before, so didn’t think much of it. But I realized pretty quickly that this was bullshit. Everyone else in the office was on salary. Sometimes I felt bad for them because if they worked longer hours, they still received the same pay, but I was mainly upset that I was the only unsalaried person. Others clocked in: the janitor, the tech people, part-time people, but I was the only one in the office who had to clock in.

Pretty much everyone mostly just fucked around on the job. Now, I’ve done my share of fucking around on the job. I’m all for fucking around on the job. It beats actually working. But in this job, other people would get mad at me if I needed to do something that meant they had to do some work instead of fucking around on the job. My job made me the first person anyone calling or coming into the cultural center made contact with. If I wasn’t there, someone else had to take calls or questions, or give tours, or the worst: make their own copies and fax their own memos. The other people in the office would be pretty pissed if I wasn’t there on time, or if I was in the bathroom, or late, whatever. They weren’t mean to me, but it disrupted their regular schedule of fucking around in the back and I could tell it annoyed them.

So there was me in the front office and four people in the back: grant writer, administrative person, accounts manager, and the executive director. Everyone else had a lot of flexibility, like you would expect at a salaried job at a cultural center to have. When they had dentist appointments, doctor appointments, their children were sick, they were sick, or anything that required them to be out of the office, they were allowed to go without penalty. Now I didn’t have health insurance like the rest of them, so I didn’t need to worry about getting time off to go to the doctor or dentist. Lucky me! I was pretty bitter about these dynamics, especially since we were all supposed to get along and be friends and what not. I found myself pretty focused on the fact that they had access to all these things and I didn’t. I’d see them laughing and joking around and I’d just think to myself how much easier it is to put a smile on at work when you at least get bennies. (Of course, work sucks, full stop. Fuck work.) So I hated my job, I hated almost all my co-workers because they were smug and on power trips. The executive director—that’s another story all its own; she is a character. A character you love to hate. She’s a rich liberal who thinks she’s a radical. Gross.

Here’s a brief story to demonstrate her fake radicalness, her loyal opposition. The executive director seemed to fetishize me as a radical. She knew my politics since I had been cooking with Food Not Bombs for a couple years and we used the center’s kitchen. So we had chatted a bunch and she considered herself a fellow radical. I’m not sure why she thought this of herself, but she did. When I first started the secretarial position, it was not explained to me that I was to be both a secretary and a personal assistant to this woman. One of the first things she had me do was look over a schematic she came up with that demonstrated how the office was organized in a non-hierarchical manner. She asked me to look it over and offer her suggestions—I think she wanted to pass these out to the office workers to boost morale, but I’m not really sure. The only suggestion I could offer is that it was completely untrue. She was interested in why I thought this, so I took the time to explain to her that the office is not organized in a non-hierarchical manner, as she had clear authority over tasks and the division of labor, she clearly made about $50k more than the other salaried employees, and as looking at it from my own standpoint, I didn’t even have insurance, sick-leave, vacation days, nor salary. It wasn’t just pay that divided us, but the division of labor was clearly and rigidly set by the board and the executive director who also established the various rules and regulations (formal and informal) which we were all to follow. It was really gross to have my boss try to convince me that we were working in a cooperative, non-hierarchical office situation. I continued to oppose everything she offered to support her argument, but she eventually dropped it and just laughed it off. I never saw that schematic again.

So one day I felt like I had a urinary tract infection (UTI) coming on. For those of you unfamiliar with this particular malady— congratulations because they are the worst. It causes you to have to pee constantly, but when you try to urinate it doesn’t really work, and it feels like razor blades are coming out of your urethra instead of urine. It’s awful. Vaginas are more susceptible to them and if you’ve had one, you’ll likely have another since it causes scar tissue, which causes more UTIs, which causes more scar tissue, etc. There are some over-the-counter drugs to ease the pain, but you need to take an antibiotic to clear up the infection so you can pee normally again. When you have a UTI, you can’t really leave your house. It’s awful. A 5-minute ride to work can be too much to handle. When I say you have to pee constantly, I mean it. Sometimes you just sit on the toilet waiting to pee. Sometimes you wear a pad so you can let out little bits of pee. Perhaps I’m getting a little TMI. But the point is, holding in your pee, even if it’s a miniscule amount, is pain that no one can bear.

So I had a UTI coming on and I knew it. I did whatever I could to try and address it with natural things so I didn’t have to go to the walk-in clinic. I drank incredibly expensive gallons of 100% unsweetened cranberry juice, I drank more water than I thought possible, and I also took incredibly expensive cranberry extract pills. That will usually steer me clear and take care of things, but not this particular time. I had symptoms for over a week. I was incredibly uncomfortable and in a lot of pain, but I knew that I didn’t have money to pay for the walk-in, to pay for the meds, and especially to take time off from work and lose those hours.

One morning, about eight days into this ordeal, I woke up to go to work and realized I was now pissing blood. UTIs that get bad enough to piss blood are rare. They’re rare because most people wouldn’t put up with the amount of pain and length of time it takes to have an untreated UTI develop into one which causes pissing blood. Pissing blood is kind of the last straw. So I was pissing blood and knew I had to get to the walk-in as soon as possible. I reluctantly called into work, explained the situation, and told them I’d get there as soon as possible, but that I needed to go to the walk-in first. This was a pretty difficult task since I also didn’t have a car at the time since mine had been stolen from that same job (wee! And also my wallet was stolen off my desk at one point). So I borrowed a car, went to the walk-in, they confirmed I had a UTI and scolded me on waiting so long to treat it, gave me a prescription, and sent me on my way. I went to the pharmacy, got my pills, and drove to work so I could at least make some money that day.

UTIs are treatable and one of the most common infections—all you really need is to take an anti-biotic for a few days and it’s over. My co-workers were shocked that I was pissing blood, they were very concerned and asked why I waited so long to take care of things. The women, especially, winced when I told them the pain I was in. They even told me to go home for the day. At this point, I had pretty much lost any ability to remain calm. I explained to them that I couldn’t afford to take time off of work, I couldn’t afford the walk-in clinic, and I couldn’t afford the prescription, and that was “why” I waited so long. I stayed the rest of the day, of course. I didn’t speak to anyone and my eyes were daggers.

The fact that I had to be pissing blood in order to justify taking off a few hours from work is bullshit. When smug well-off women at “non-profits” are shocked and ask you why you waited so long to go to the doctor when you have a UTI, you pretty much want to kill them, and anyone else, hell, everyone else. They couldn’t understand what it meant not having insurance, not having sick-leave, and not having the ability to even get to a doctor without borrowing a car. They were so used to their salary, their benefits, their vacation time, that they seemed unable to understand the problems I was having and why I didn’t do things the way they would have. I didn’t mince my words, so they started to get it a little. Then they just walked around in a kind of guilty manner the rest of the day. These are the same people who could’ve made my job full-time, offered me benefits, etc. They made the choice to change the job when I took it. I think they knew I’d take it since I was desperate and they weren’t worried about filling the position, so why not screw me over? Worst is, 35 hours in my state is considered full-time and I believe I was entitled to sick leave. Trimming my position to 35 hours/week made them feel better about taking away any benefits, but it wasn’t legal. They felt guilty when they found out how their decision to change my job had affected me, but not so guilty as to pay me more or provide me with health insurance. Fuck liberals, their useless guilt, and their loyal opposition. Furthermore, like I said, fuck work.

[beanghostprincess]

TW for chronic illnesses and body image issues/disphoria and infertility for some headcanons.

Lamikkaku anon here, I wanted to share some headcanons and thoughts about modern AU Lamikkaku because I think I've just come up with the most precious thing ever.

So, I think modern AU Lami would be cronically ill/have some health problems. (I was thinking about her being a survivor to childhood lung cancer that was caused by long term exposure to asbestos, since the Amber Lead Deasease seemed like it was referencing that. And therefore having long term health problems due to treatment)

It would affect her breathing and heart (cue Law deciding to become a cardiosurgeon to help people with similar problems) but also her body and personality as well. The steroids based treatments made her gain weight that she hardly lost, she has scars from various surgeries, and she became an introvert that struggles to meet new people. She feels guilty that she always made her parents worry and made Law miss out on many childhood experiences too, as he hardly saw his parents who were caretaking his sister and was mostly looked after by their godfather Corasan.

Cue my transfemm Ikkaku headcanon. She also struggles with acceptance and body immage issues, worrying about her appearence and not being "feminine enough", as well as some anger issues she develoeped due to tauning from others. I think she may also have issues with her family due to this. It contribuited in her being somewhat "hostile" when trying to meet new people and trusting them.

They met because of Law. Lami doesn't have many friends of her own so she hangs out in his friend group and meets Ikkaku. Its sorta of a love at first sight. Lami looks at Ikkaku and views her basically has a goddess: one with a flawless body, untouched by medical horrors, a sassy and sarcastic personality that sports a level of confidence that she can never have. And Ikkaku sees Lami as an angel: a kind, gentle person with such soft, and a heart of gold thats completely pure, cute ligneaments and a caring and amazing family that loves and supports her.

They start talking and getting close, opening up more to eachother, about their insecurities and fears. The topic of dating eventually comes up and both are very catious about it: Lami isn't sure about what she can give, her health problems are something she always saw as a burden, and she doesn't want to give this burden to anyone else. And Ikkaku thinks she would be awful for Lami, after all Lami is such a nice and kind person, Ikkaku considers herself far too brute to be good for her.

There is also another added thing... Lami can't have children. The treatment made her sterile, and its something she always knew but only really started grieving now. Part of her thinks this makes her an inadequate partner, a not good enough girlfriend (Bullshit, Lami is perfect and you know it) and Ikkaku also had mixed feelings about her own body functions, with transphobes harrassing her and saying shit like "ReAl WoMeN CaN GiVe BiRtH!!!" (Bullshit, I fucking hate this terf behaviour).

The two of them understand eachother deeply due to these things about themselves. Ikkaku never saw Lami's health as an obstacke, it just something that is part of her and makes her unique, and Lami doesn't give a shit about Ikkaku being trans, she loves her because of her personality and the way she is treated by her.

Eventually they do manage to start dating. Its a gradual process, but it doesn't matter because they have their love. They also protest and advocate for themselves, weather its trans/queer rights or better funding and medical treatments (insurance is a SCAM) and marriage equality in both cases.

Law couldn't be happier for her (he doesn't show it at all but he cries of happyness in a corner at least 5 times a day. Bepo calms him down) he also goes on double dates with them and [insert character you ship Law with].

And occasionally there are double dates with Penguin and Shachi as well (Penshachi and transmasc Penguin my beloved) but they have to be very carefull because if they mess something up Law will come after them with a weapon of mass destruction.

And Cora is so proud of them!!! His little girl finally finding confidence, loving her own skin, advocating for herself and all with the love of her life by her side. This man is so goddam happy you wont believe it!!! He gives Ikkaku his full blessing and some older transfolk advice (transmasc Corasan my beloved) he is already picturing their wedding, and he's crying about it. Someone get this man a tissue, or a blanket.

This is all so beautiful!! I've always loved Modern AUs but this one is especially soft. I love how they both have their own issues feeling loved but end up overcoming them together,,, Also, Cora would be the best father-in-law ever in the world. He's so. So happy. He loves Ikkaku so damn much-- And I think Law is concerned at first because he loves and trusts his friends a lot but whenever Lami and Ikkaku go on dates. Together. Alone. Law worries a lot in case something might happen. But Ikkaku is a sweetie with Lami and when Law realizes that everything is okay and the world isn't ending and nobody is dying he cries because he's just so so so relieved.

[warmcupoftea]

hello to my wonderful tumblr friends. i know i've been gone almost a week. i know in the grand scheme of things, this isn't a lot of time, but i just wanted to blog about why i've been missing and yap.

so most recently and most alarming, my health is declining. i have crohn's disease, and i am having quite possibly the worst flareup i've had in a while. i am starting the brat diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast) and pedialyte to try and calm my symptoms. i don't currently have insurance, so this is my best bet.

this kind of segues into my eating disorder. i have had ednos for the last 13 years now. between the binging and restricting cycles, my crohn's has been so aggravated. i've attempted recovery a few times over the last 4 years, but with no real success.

as i get older, i know that it is paramount that i recover. even in times that i do not want to, i know that i have a limited amount of time. i am nearing my thirties, and i know as time goes on, my body will have a harder time bouncing back.

i am also experiencing symptoms such as presyncope, heart racing, nausea (that could be entirely crohn's related), and dizziness. my husband is putting me on his insurance, so i just need to make it to january. i'd like to be tested for POTS.

in terms of my mental health, i've admittedly been struggling. i've been relapsing with my borderline personality disorder. not nearly as severe as i was when i was younger, thankfully. it's mostly identity crises and emptiness + depression. i've had thoughts of self-harm, but i don't think i will ever relapse with that. i think my husband's worry alone stops me in my tracks.

i've had a lot of work stress too. i am autistic, and i trust people way too eagerly, i think. "friends" at work causing issues and speaking badly about me behind my back, as well as twisting my words around. at this point, i am resigned to just going to work, being cordial, and going home. but i guess it hurts because i thought two of these people were my friends. i am working on handling that.

on the bright side, i may have the opportunity to transfer to a different location! they have a full-time position open that i want, and it's only 15 minutes away from my house. it would be nice to get that pay bump, insurance, as well as have a fresh start with a new mindset. no more close connections at work. which is funny, because i met my husband at my job. he was just in a different department.

i guess that's the full update on my life. tldr; my physical and mental health have not been the best, and i'm surviving right now.

[liskantope]

[Privileged, overtly irrational, navel-gazey election-related hand-wringing below the cut...]

I've never really exactly been directly affected by any presidential election result beyond how it made me feel in spirit. Sure, there was a moment or two when my family was worried about the possibility of my getting drafted to fight in Bush's war before we kind of figured out that the prospect of a draft was mostly a scare tactic from the Democrats; the Great Recession of 2008 only gave me the most minor of worries about lowered chances of getting into grad programs and didn't affect my family at all; none of Obamacare really affected me since I had pretty good health insurance in my graduate program at the time; the pandemic profoundly affected my life but most of its effects didn't have that much to do with Trump; etc.

But, I have an uncharacteristically superstitious feeling that Trump's victory on Tuesday foretells a downturn for me in my own life unrelated to whatever policies he may enact. I made the biographical observation some time ago that throughout my lifetime, the periods when we had a Democrat in the White House have been happier for me than the periods when we had a Republican, and that my life has gone up and down roughly in sync with the changes in the party that held the presidency. My early childhood, while not miserable or anything, was rife with neurology-related difficulties I mostly don't remember that well (Bush Sr.'s term); the main stretch of my childhood was overall pleasant and peaceful (Clinton's terms); there was somewhat of a flatter gloom over my teenage years and a lot of storminess in college (Bush Jr.'s terms); graduate school was a uniquely happy period of my adult life (stretching neatly across the bulk of Obama's terms); things went dramatically downhill when I moved abroad for my first postdoc and my mental/emotional health became turbulent for the first half of my second postdoc back in the US (Trump's term); life evened out and I found some happiness and relative peace during the second half of that postdoc followed by moving to the nicest job I've ever had for my third postdoc (Biden's term).

There are irregularities in this analysis of course, but these I can just "explain away": Obama got elected and became president while I was still in the midst of tons of stress and drama in college, but I was at the same time becoming incredibly optimistic and excited about my future in grad school which matches the "hope and change" vibe of Obama's start; the worst period of my first postdoc was in 2016 (indeed a candidate for the worst calendar year of my life) while Obama was still president, but that's when the national discourse was dominated by the rise of Trump; I experienced tons of internal storminess throughout the relationship I got into in 2021-2022 as pleasant as it was on the outside and then the relationship met a sad demise, but I could say something like that reflects the fact that Biden's presidency never felt like anything more than an unstable "caretaker period" colored by the later effects of the pandemic with Trump looming in the background. All pretty silly, I know.

Anyway, I've seen a probable major personal crisis coming from a long way off, which is that I'm likely to become very lost and depressed in the (from a rational analysis quite probable) event that I don't manage to get another academic job and have to abandon my career in academia, and the timing of that potential crisis is that it would unfold fairly early in the new year, not long after the next president takes office. The superstitious part of me reads Trump's election as a sure sign that I will indeed fail to get hired for an academic job in the coming months, finally reaching the end of the road in academia, and that I'll enter quite a difficult and depressing new chapter of my life.

Not going to say that in job interviews though (whenever I get any).

[whoiskt]

I didn't do my end of the year questions last year and it messed up the year for me so HERE YA GO:

1. What did you do in 2024 that you’d never done before?

Man, I don't know really? I feel like I used to have so many each year and now I'm struggling to think of any. I went to LA for the first time?

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I don't know what my resolution was but I'm pretty sure I didn't do it.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

No.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No, but basically yes. That's me being a touch dramatic but like, it really does feel like a certain someone died.

5. What countries did you visit?

None.

6. What would you like to have in 2025 that you lacked in 2024?

Clear skin.

7. What dates from 2024 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

None, shit memory, nothing crazy happened this year.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Surviving. It was a bit of a rough one.

9. What was your biggest failure?

I would have liked to achieve more and be more confident in myself by now. It's mostly many small failures in that way. Like, I'm still mad at myself for not presenting my finals well. I did fine in class overall but it was a bit of a bummer at the end there.

Also like, my financials in general are very not great.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Not really, which is good. I had the flu which was scary for a hot second because I had a 104° fever that wouldn't break, and I ain't got no health insurance so I was worried I was going to be forced to go to the doctor and pay out of pocket, which lead to me having a panic attack while already fevering. But I was fine in the end.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

I barely bought anything this year that wasn't rent, credit card payments, or tuition. Or Celsius.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

God, I don't know. Let me know. I would like to know.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled?

Not naming names....... but rest assured there was appalling behavior.

14. Where did most of your money go?

See #11, lol.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

School. But I won't make that mistake again. I think school is bad for me mental healths. But we stay silly.

16. What song will always remind you of 2024?

The entire Arcane soundtrack.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: (a) happier or sadder? (b) thinner or fatter? (c) richer or poorer?

SADDER FATTER POORER

the holy trifecta 😎👍

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Make money.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Doubt and despair.

20. How did you spend Christmas?

Went back home. My second oldest sister was with her in-laws on Christmas Day, so we shifted our Christmas to the 26th. So, on the actual day of, I was just kind of chilling with my folks, we had lasagna, watched The Holiday, and played some games.

21. Did you fall in love in 2024?

Oh yeah, always falling in love babey.

22. What was your favorite TV program?

Arcane, Blue Eye Samurai, Dungeon Meshi, What We Do in the Shadows, Law and Order: SVU were my lifeblood. Also rewatched Danny Phantom. Started a lot of good shows I'm yet to finish--literally took a TV history class and I have a huge To Watch list.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

(weary sigh) No, I'm not cut out to hate people.

24. What was the best book you read?

Honestly, most of my reading was academic this year so I didn't finish many books. But House of Leaves was pretty wild and fun. That is one of maybe 3 books I finished this year ahahahaha.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

I didn't "discover" Will Wood this year but I finally gave in and listened to more of his discography, discovered many bangers, which is how he ended up as my #2 on Spotify Wrapped.

26. What did you want and get?

Feedback on my art. Got to go home during summer which was nice too.

27. What did you want and not get?

Better. Wait, is that too general of an answer?

28. What was your favorite film of this year?

The Wild Robot.

29. What one thing made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Not dying?

30. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2024?

Whatever doesn't have holes in it (and some things that have less obvious holes too)

31. What kept you sane?

Friends.

32. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Well, I support that guy who shot that insurance CEO... Don't know if I'd go as far as 'fancy' though.

33. What political issue stirred you the most?

God... I don't know. I feel like the world is a ton of bricks and we're getting pelted by it all the time. And it was fucking election year, and look how that turned out...... but I will try not to fall into despair.

34. Who did you miss?

I miss my bro-in-law :(

35. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2024.

I learned something big and important but I can't remember how I articulated it. I've been having issues with self-worth, and often I fall back to old failures to make things worse, and I've learned that focusing too much on failure doesn't just prevent more failure, it prevents any movement at all including progress or success. So, I've been doing better with that.

So, I guess I've been learning to let things go more.

36. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

I had the perfect lyric for this but I can't remember what song it was anymore. It was like literally one random line in a song.... gr... this will bother me. If I think of it, I'll let everyone know and update it.

For now you can have this:

[rival-the-rose]

Just finished my first day back at work!

It was about as successful as I could hope I think. I had a bit of an episode 11 hours into my shift, but I think that's because all my food today was incidentally very low carb bc I perked up after pumpkin pie not after my celery and hummus.

I was successfully able to: restrain calm large dogs and regular sized cats, make surgery carts, prep and scrub patients (including sterile prep), circulate for surgeries, give IM and SQ injections to medium dogs (but not restrain). And a bunch of inventory and clerical stuff.

I did not attempt to: take radiographs, set up ORs, clean ORs, or scrub in. The only one of those I for sure can't do right now is scrub in, unless the surgeon can also sit. But we were really well staffed today so I didn't push it.

I was not successful at restraining an insane five month old pittie puppy but no one really was lol. I ended up being the one to inject him and that was more successful.

I ate either an egg or celery and hummus every two hours and had a camelbak of water and squash soup for lunch. Wore my corset, wasn't too uncomfortable except at the edge when I bent over.I forgot to take more salt which might be why I'm so fucked up rn. Full body shivers and chills despite feeling warm.

Found out halfway thru the day that I'm supposed to have release paper work from my doctor in order to get paid. Don't have that and won't have it till Friday and I'm pissed no one has mentioned that in the past three months. Not complicated to communicate that shit. I'm worried my doctor won't sign off on me working bc let's be real it's not actually good but I need to keep my health insurance.

Partner is making me do PT right now which makes sense bc we need to know if I'm weak bc of deconditioning or something else but I'm so weak and tired and painful and shivering. So I'm only doing one set of ten instead of three of each exercise.

Overall: not bad. Felt useful. Didn't feel like I was making more work for other ppl. Felt like I was only doing one person's job instead of three which was novel. Mostly succeeded in working separately from my partner and not worrying them or making them take care of me