#one of my meds somes in a plastic container.

[3liza]

are there any meds organizers/pill boxes that are

1. larger than a blush compact

3. have multiple compartments (more than 6)

4. not plastic

5. not ugly

i take about 10-20 pills a day. some of them are enormous, like big vitamins. many of them are as-needed and not daily or scheduled, so weekly organizers are NOT a good solution for me

i don't like distributing those pills into weekly organizer caddies for many reasons, the most important one being that I will just not do it because i don't want to. i find the process odious and difficult even though it's fast and easy. i suspect there is something about the executive function requirements that make doing that task difficult for the same reason I find mailing packages to be like performing a quadrille. i suspect this is due to medical issues relating to my brain

i want to have compartments, but NOT daily compartments. i want to dump all my vitamin b pills into compartment 1, and all my vitamin c pills into compartment 2, and all my Adderall into compartment 3, and so on. because I don't always need or want to take every type of pill I have, most of my medication is "as needed" and this doesn't work for weekly organizers. i have used weekly organizers to just hold different types of pills in each compartment and this works but it's annoying to deal with the days of the week labeling, and the organizers are ugly.

I currently have all my "usually have to take every day" pills which are mostly very small prescription pills in a set of three metal containers that are not ugly. there are 2 traditional "pill boxes" as seen in the 20th century to go in a lady's purse.

and then one Altoids tin that just has everything in it that wouldn't fit in the smaller boxes. and then dozens of bottles of larger pills in the kitchen.

so I have three boxes of pills I have to carry around from room to room all day. i don't like this. and I don't like how there are three separate boxes. i also don't like how everything bigger than this that I can find is made of plastic. and I don't like how the latches aren't secure enough to tolerate being occasionally dropped on the ground. what I want is the same form factor of the tiny pill boxes I have now, but 5x bigger. the weekly caddies are big enough but they're ugly.

i need like. a Mancala board with a secure lid:

they do make Mancala boards that fold shut. however that's still only six compartments. i need the Mancala board to have more pits in it and then it would be perfect. there are variations of Mancala with dozens of pits but they're too rare for me to be able to find the boards on ebay

wait what the fuck

also i DONT want one of these, they're not a good form factor for my use case:

I'm thinking probably a jewelry box or trinket box is the right move here but I want the compartments to be more secure than jewelry boxes usually are, and I also don't want them to be covered in velvet, because velvet is impossible to clean and pills constantly slough off various powders and dust.

simple wood trinket boxes are the right size and shape (about the size of a book) but are usually for putting your weed accoutrements and don't have internal compartments though. i can DIY internal compartments, but that requires effort and organization, the two resources that are least accessible to me. and if I'm going to do that much work it's sort of pointless buying anything to begin with, I may as well just make an entire box myself at home out of bamboo or something. which I might do because I'm fed up!!

something like this could work but I hate the plastic pouches. they will start falling apart in a year

[sickly-qt]

I'm Okay

Sorry I've been gone, I got hit with a case of The Big Sad.

I'm better now, kinda. But Drew and Finn creeped into my little brain today and wouldn't leave so here you go! The aftermath of this fic. There's no emeto in this one, just fluff.

~~~

Drew was sitting with her knees to her chest, picking at the pilling of Finn’s sweater that was draped over her legs. She was no longer nauseous and some color had returned to her face thanks to some intravenous fluids and antiemetics, but she was exhausted.

She had sent Finn to get her something small to eat now that she felt that she could keep something down, but she also wanted him to be doing something other than sitting and anxiously tapping his foot on the linoleum while they both waited for the doctor. 

“Alright, I have chicken tenders, fries and a mint chocolate chip milkshake.” Finn said, fumbling through the privacy curtain with his hands full of food.

“Thanks,” Drew mumbled, pushing herself up to take the food from Finn. “Did you get anything for yourself?” 

“Uh, no.” He sat down in the plastic chair next to the bed and leaned back, running his hands through his hair, leg right back to bouncing, his heel tapping on the floor. “I’m alright, did the doctor come in at all while I was gone?” 

She opened up the containers the food was in and nudged it toward him then leaned back sipping on her milkshake, “No, a nurse came in and stole some of my blood, but that’s it. I’m not going to eat all of this, you should have some.”

Finn sighed and shook his head, “I’m not hungry, eating would probably just make me sick if I’m being completely honest with you.” He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, fidgeting with his cuticles, one knee still bouncing.

Drew moved everything to the weird bed table and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, grabbing his hands, noticing the irritation his picking was causing. 

“Stop that,” she kept one hand on his and moved the other to his face, making him look at her, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just- You scared me. I’ll feel a lot better once we know you’re okay and we’re home.”

“I’m okay, Finn. Look at me, I’m okay. I drank like half of that milkshake and I’m not even nauseous.”

Before Finn had a chance to respond, a tiny Asian woman in scrubs threw the curtain open with a huge smile on her face “Hi, I’m Dr. Lee. I’m going to be talking to you about your baby today, and giving you a quick ultrasound just to make sure everything is in tiptop shape before we get you out of here.” She said, reading through Drew’s charts, “How are we feeling? Are the meds helping?”

“Uh, yeah. I feel a lot better actually.” Drew responded, settling back into the hospital bed. 

“Awesome, great. So obviously morning sickness is very normal, but being sick to the point of passing out due to dehydration is not. It says here on your intake that you’ve been experiencing pretty severe symptoms but this is the first time that it’s gotten this bad?”

Drew nodded, “Yeah, this has never happened before”

“Okay, well judging from your bloodwork you’re at least 9 weeks along which is typically where morning sickness peaks. We’re going to get a look at the baby in a couple to get a better idea of where exactly you’re at but most likely the worst is behind you. I will warn you though that sometimes women experience some kind of morning sickness the entirety of their pregnancy, I unfortunately can’t guarantee that won’t be you… But! we will be getting you set up with some anti-nausea meds and antiemetics to hopefully stop something like this from happening again.” Dr. Lee craned her head around Drew to look at Finn, “You okay over there, Dad?”

He had resumed his position, elbows on knees, picking at his hands, “Huh? Yeah, I’m okay just- listening.”

Drew knew that something more was up but that was something to be unpacked not in the emergency room while she was hooked up to a million machines.

“Okay.” She clapped, “If we’re ready, we’ll get the ultrasound out of the way and then get you out of here.”

Drew wasn’t expecting to feel as odd as she did, when she had to lift her shirt for the doctor to smear a weird jelly on her stomach. She looked over at Finn who must’ve felt her eyes and looked up at her before standing and sitting halfway on the bed next to her, grabbing her hand.

She wasn’t expecting to be scared. She didn’t actually think there was a weird alien inside of her but until now she didn’t have any confirmation that there wasn’t. She was really hoping everything was okay.

Dr. Lee was silent as she moved the wand around Drew’s stomach which only fed Drew’s anxiety. Then just as quickly as the thought entered her mind a smile broke on the doctor’s face.

“There we go.” She turned the screen to face Drew and Finn. “A perfect little baby.” She went on to point out all the little parts of a little person but both Finn and Drew were frozen. Their situation suddenly very real.

“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” Dr. Lee asked.

Drew opened her mouth to answer but her voice got stuck in her throat.

“Yes. Yeah, we would, please.” Finn said from her side. 

Drew gasped when the doctor turned a small knob in the monitor and a steady beat filled the tiny little alcove that in that moment was just theirs.

“We’re having a baby.” Drew whispered.

“We’re having a baby.” Finn repeated, pressing a kiss into her temple. 

[danny-pino-group-therapy]

AN: This fic is purely self-indulgent! I needed it at this time Sorry for my grammar and poorly written story. It was off the cuff.

TW’s: If any of the following are likely or even remotely possible to trigger you PLEASE DO NOT READ BELOW! Depression; Mania; Manic Depressive; Bipolar disorder; Self Harm Scars; Self Harm Thoughts; Suicidal Thoughts; Mental Illness.

WC: 1,808

“Have you ever felt so alone even when you’re surrounded by people?” You looked up at Nick, thick tears gathering in your eyes at the admission of how you were handling life and all its highs and lows currently.

Nick felt his heart break as he looked down at you, curled up on your oversized comfy sofa. As he had come into the apartment an hour ago after not hearing from you all day and not seeing you at work, he noticed your place was eerily quiet save for a few sniffles coming from the living room. The place seemed almost untouched, with no dishes in the sink, no drinking glasses anywhere, or the water bottle you carried around faithfully. The only place that seemed lived in at all was the living room, where it appeared you had camped out the last couple of days at least. A blanket tossed haphazardly over the back of the couch, takeout boxes on the coffee table, and a couple of plastic water bottles on the floor. It was very apparent to Nick you weren’t feeling well mentally and in a dark place.

Nick exhaled a shaky breath before taking a tentative seat on the sofa beside you. He knew you well enough to know that when in a state like this you wanted your space but you needed him close by too.

“Yeah…yeah Hermosa I have.” He sighed. “I don’t know how you’re currently feeling or what you’re dealing with baby but I’ve felt that way. Tell me what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours.” The handsome hazelnut-eyed detective let his hand reach out towards you, holding it over your thigh. “When did you first start feeling this way? Hmm?” He spoke softly, his voice full of concern.

“I don’t know. Everything just snowballed.” You sniffled and looked up to the ceiling as tears welled even further in your eyes while you tried not to cry openly, always wanting to remain strong on the outside for everyone else. Nick though…Nick saw right through it all. He always had and always would and as he did he pulled you to him, into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you; his large hand on your head soothing down your hair before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

Nick had been in your life for nearly five years now, at first only a partner at work but now your boyfriend for nearly a year after you both confessed your feelings after an argument after a frustrating week and a huge disagreement. You had yelled at him your feelings and he stared at you dumbfounded, never believing anything so good could happen to him, so good as to have you have the same feelings he felt for you, that is. That was Nick though, Nick Amaro who never thought he deserved the best in life which you always felt he did, knew he did. Then again you felt the same way toward yourself. Never believing you deserved anything good or anyone good in your life and that anything or anyone good had to have an alterer motive. Perhaps that’s why you were kindred spirits, you both knew how the other felt in some similar sort of way all the while knowing it was completely different sets of situations that led you to the place you were in life now.

Nick looked over to the table behind the couch seeing your medicine containers filled still from the last week. You hadn’t taken them then, a reckless decision in a moment of mania or brain fog, maybe both, he couldn’t be sure until asking further. While at work the detective was one of the best at interrogations he was careful when it came to you, he knew you hated feeling like you were being interrogated like one of his perps. It always ended up in you pulling even further away and shutting everyone, including him, out. “You didn't take your meds this week?” He questioned softly as he caressed your hair and back.

“I don’t know. I can’t remember when.” You muttered.

“Baby…you had an alarm set. What happened? I wanted to be here but I was undercover. I’m so sorry mi amor. I can’t always be here to remind you, you know that right? I worry. You have to take your meds so you feel better; so you feel okay.” Nick urged, feeling himself worry even more now at your words.

“Nick…Nick I don’t need you to babysit me. I know what I did was reckless. I know I skipped. One day I got up late, and I missed my alarm, and cut it off. The next day I said I didn’t have time, so I skipped it. The next, the same. The following I forgot, the same with the next and the next, and then I got to the point where I felt amazing I didn’t need it I thought. I was stupid and things spiraled. It felt great for a while! Boy did it feel fucking great. Now…now I just feel empty, and alone. Alone when I’m at work. Alone here. Alone with you. It doesn’t matter, I’m alone.” You started to feel yourself get carried away trying to explain what your mind felt like right now.

The detective listened, his heart clutching at your words and the pain and conflicting thoughts you had to be having right now.

“It’s not normal and it’s not okay. I just. I want to feel okay. I don’t want to have to live life on meds and still battle my thoughts, my mind saying awful things. I’m filled with rage and with hate and I’m not…I’m not hateful, I’m not vengeful, I’m not like this Nick. You know I’m not! I’m empathetic, I’m kind, I feel other people’s emotions and pain so deep inside myself that I carry it wherever I go and I try to make it better. I’m not this person my mind makes me believe I am.” You pushed off of Nick’s chest, or tried I should say but he held you tight to him knowing in a moment you’d break, the flood of tears would form and you’d not be able to stop it. Knowing you you probably hadn’t cried in a long time and needed it. Needed to feel healthy and not with the methods you used to use. Nick’s mind flashed with the memories of new scratches and new cuts and new bruises before you and he had gotten together and you had started an intensive therapy course and continued with therapy and treatment since. You had relapses of course but it hadn’t been as frequent and he had made it his life mission that no one, not even yourself, would harm you again. The squad and so many others, including yourself told him that it wasn’t his fault if you had faltered or slipped again, that it wasn’t his duty to make sure you were okay 24/7 but he still took it seriously and it made you feel even more guilty you had hurt him so bad by hurting yourself.

“Baby… Hermosa, you…you haven’t hurt yourself again have you?” He was afraid to ask…afraid of what the answer might be. He had been gone away without contact all week and had no idea if you were okay or not even if you assured him you were a big girl. Even the squad had said they’d check on you, which they did until you stopped letting anyone in yesterday morning.

“No…no, I haven’t. I’ve had thoughts but I haven’t.” You choked up and the man looked over your hands that had clutched his shirt desperately then down to your wrists and arms seeing no signs of new red angry skin. “It’s like a fucked up addiction. I did it to feel. I did it to make sure I was alive and all the while forget that I was and attempt not to have to deal with it at all anymore. I hate it. I hate I started it but I did now I have to live with it all because I started and my fucked up bipolar.” You cried.

“How…how can you even stand me?? Why do you want to be with me? Why? I’m so fucked up Nick! I’m screwed up! Why would YOU want ME? Me of all the women you could have, you chose the girl with a brain so messed up as mine.” You broke down as the handsome raven-haired detective held you tighter, tears gathering in his own eyes as you soaked his shirt with your own.

“Because I’ve never seen someone so compassionate. Someone so filled with life when you’re interested in something you can’t stop talking about it. Your eyes light up, your smile is huge and you can go on for ages until you realize I’m staring at you with my stupid big grin. Because of your smile, your spirit lights up even the darkest of moments, of days, the darkest corners of my mind. When I think of having you as my work partner and my girlfriend I ask how fucking lucky am I to have you by my side to confide in, to hold, and to love. How lucky am I that Zara and Gil have another amazing woman in their life who can teach them compassion for others and empathy and set a good example. Baby love you so much. I know we’re both fucked up but you are the light in the center of my heart that keeps it beating. That keeps me going. I don’t care that you have times when your life feels a mess, mine feels like a shit show most of the time too but when I hold you, or you hold me, I feel I’m sane. I’m okay. I’ll be okay because you’re here now. You’re going to be okay? Alright? I’m here. I’m going to love you through this and beyond. We’ll get you back on track and get you feeling better. I love you, please…try never to forget, even if you do, I’m going to remind you every day for the rest of eternity that you’re loved and cherished not just by me but by family and our squad and friends. Always.” Nick held your face in his large calloused hands gently as he spoke before kissing your tear-stained face and lips. “I love you. Please rest here, okay? When you get up I’ll be right here. We’ll start new. It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.” He cooed and rocked slowly side to side hoping to soothe you as you cried yourself to sleep knowing Nick was right, he would be there for you and help you till you saw the daylight again.

Author’s Note: Please if you feel hopeless, empty, sad, or alone or are having any thoughts of SH, Suicide, or even just a feeling of helplessness and depression, call or text your local hotline (FOUND HERE). I have used the Crisis text line (text HOME to 741741 in the USA) several times and it helps to have someone to listen when you hate or are anxious about talking on the phone! If not these lines, please friends/family for support or someone who will listen to you. I’m here to speak to you and try to understand even in your darkest time you aren’t alone even if you feel you are. You are enough and you are loved. I love you. ❤️

[softc0reearts]

OC Pride Month 2024 | TWD OC | Daryl x Fem!OC

( Late submission because I was on vacation Teehee )

OC Pride Challenge (Day 4): Trans

Make something for an oc that is trans!

Yvonne Tawnie : The Song

Daryl set down the final scavenged bag from his share by the entrance of the pharmacy. It was a small building with four shelves, a register counter, and a small pharmacy at the back. This was nothing; it should have taken them no more than 30 minutes. In and out. But Yvonne was still in the pharmacy after an hour.

Daryl was more patient than usual, understanding she was looking for something important. He glanced up from the bag and watched her, moving medicines and containers around on the shelves of the pharmacy. It looked like she was reading every word on the bottles, she was in her own world.

Yvonne was complex, and he didn’t know what to think of her, but she was just as determined as he was to find Sophia, so there was a kind of mutual understanding between them. When he first laid eyes on her in Atlanta, he didn’t think much of her. She looked like some college girl who shouldn’t have lasted more than a week. To his surprise, here she was standing metaphorically side-by-side with him.

He continued to watch her. He’d moved closer and was now in the first lane of shelves. Normally, he would have scoffed at her and expected that she’d need to be pampered like some princess, but she spent more time trying to help the group, so much that even he found himself leaning on her from time to time. That was the only reason he was standing there, patiently watching her search.

At the other end of the pharmacy, Yvonne was so focused on finding her HRT meds that Daryl’s gaze had gone unnoticed. She examined every bottle and collected anything that would work, from her own prescription to a common menopause prescription. She divided the general medicine for the group into a plastic bag and her personal medicine went into her backpack. She suspected that at least one person from the group had an idea about her identity, but she wanted to avoid any questions from those who were in the dark.

“If you’re lookin’ for anything stronger than an old person’s pain pill, you’re probably outta luck.” Daryl’s voice caused her to jump; she was far too focused. “Places like this don’t got the good stuff.”

Yvonne turned her head in his direction, realizing he assumed she was looking for prescription drugs to abuse. She was not above using pills to get through the night, but today, her attention was solely on her HRT. She didn’t know what to say; she wanted to keep anything unnecessary to herself. She wasn’t at college with people from all over the East Coast anymore. Daryl was a country boy whose brother was a described bigot.

Could she take him on if he found out what she was looking for and decided to make an example of her?

While things had never been easy for her, the world used to have a glass barrier that prevented most people from attacking her out of disgust, confusion, or ignorance. That was no longer the case, and she was now face-to-face with her own presumptions about how Daryl would respond. She didn’t trust him any more than she trusted her ability to protect herself against him.

“Nah, I’m not looking for anything like that. I’m looking for my prescription from before everything fell.”

But maybe she was wrong?

“I’m transgender.”

The words came out and she immediately wanted to shove them back deep inside herself. She was too comfortable with the group and had started to wonder if maybe she could tell them about herself.

“Meaning if I’m not careful and collect as much of my prescription as I can find, I’ll probably end up as handsome as you. I could probably grow a better beard, too.” Despite the joke, her face showed just how nervous she was about coming out to him.

While she confessed, Daryl walked from the aisle to the doorway and leaned against the frame. His expression didn’t change. He may have been a country boy, but he wasn’t an idiot. He understood what she was saying; he didn’t need any context outside of “I’m transgender.” His brother had quite a few opinions about a person like her. He’d heard his share of rants while the pair watched TV or heard about the very political subject on the radio.

But he had never met someone like that.

“Listen, I get that being on the outskirts of society is fine to some people, but I prefer to be smack dab in the middle of the safe bubble of fitting in.” She expected him to respond right away, and when he didn’t, she started to ramble.

He just watched as she set the bottle in her hand back down on the shelf. The comment about society got an amused sigh out of him.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but there ain’t no society left. You can fit in just by not being one of those biters out there.” Daryl gestured towards the front of the store. “You’re worried about something that don’t matter no more.”

Maybe he was right, but it was her own life she took a chance on, not his. She took a deep breath, turned away from the shelf, and headed for the same doorway Daryl leaned against. She stood against the opposite side of him, so the two were face-to-face. They stood at the same height, so she could look in his eyes easily, even when his eyes darted away from her gaze and then back.

“Right now, we may be a bunch of people camping in the woods trying to survive one more day together, but one day, society is going to come back, rebuild, or whatever happens after something like this.” She said, explaining her mindset a bit more.

Every time he averted his gaze, she moved her head to meet it. It wasn’t successful every time, but finally, he stopped and just looked at her straight on.

“It may not look like it from where you’re standing, but you and I both stood on the outside of society before shit hit the fan. But for you, when shit hit the wall, it just showed how strong and capable you are. When everyone who pushed you on the outside fell, you stayed standing and even offered some of them a hand. You went from lurking on the outside to being a vital part of whatever is going to happen next.” Her words showed just how much she observed him.

For the first time since standing across from him, she averted her eyes. Something Daryl picked up on immediately.

“If every person I met knew about that part of me, it may not matter what I bring to the table. I could end up on the outside watching the world pass me by. They may not know how to react to me, and that confusion could turn into anger and scorn.” She said, the words flowing out like a broken faucet. “Just like before the end of the world.”

With that, she finally looked up and met his gaze. He could see the thin line of moisture hugging her bottom eyelid. He didn’t respond, and just stared into her eyes because there was nothing he could do to change the outcome of what had already happened.

“So, if you happen to see either of these meds or any menopause meds, please keep me in mind and grab them.” She held up two bottles, both required for her transition.

She gave him a few moments to look, which he did. After some time had passed and with nothing left to say, she stepped away from the doorway, going in the opposite direction of the pharmacy. After only a single step, Daryl reached out and grabbed her right wrist. She snapped her head around, looking at him as if afraid of what he was about to do or say.

“I didn’t get a good look at this one.” He raised her arm up just a bit.

He held her wrist as he read the bottle again. Once he was done, he looked up at her face. They stood there in silence, just staring at each other. It was so quiet that she feared he might hear her heart thumping against her chest. She wanted to know what he was thinking, but the words were stuck in her throat.

His grip on her wrist loosened until her hand fell to her side. He didn’t say anything and just walked past her. She didn’t dare watch him as he walked away, instead just stared at the place he had walked away from. She heard the sound of him rustling with the bags, and then the door opening and closing. She finally looked towards the door, seeing Daryl’s frame as a blur beyond the dirty glass.

Outside of the store, Daryl put the bags inside the back seat of the driver’s side. Once the car door was closed, he turned towards the storefront, expecting Yvonne to come out any moment. While he waited, he realized he had been gripping the same hand that he used to grab Yvonne’s wrist so tight it started to hurt. He immediately loosened his grip, which came at the perfect moment because Yvonne came walking out of the front door.

“Ready?” He asked, opening the car door on his side.

“Sure am.” She responded, doing the same.

For a moment before sliding into the car, they looked up at each other. Their mutual eye contact caught them off guard, not expecting the other to be doing the same. Neither said anything and got in the car.

Not even their sharpened knives could cut through the awkward silence in the car during the ride home.

[slavic-roots-western-mind]

Backpack must-haves: College edition

Pens, laptop, notebooks, water, some cash and a charger with the odd mint or tictac chilling somewhere at the bottom of your bag.

Scrambling around, trying to find your ratty notebook, and then asking your impeccable, super organized neighbor for a pen 6 minutes after class has started only to be shushed by the person in front of you and having 10 heads swivel back and glare at you for interrupting their flow.

Sounds familiar? That was the state of my learning and my bag during my first week of uni, after which my itinerary was promptly overhauled and reorganized.

Question: If your backpack is messy and disorganized, how will that reflect on your studies in the long-run? Not great, so let's go through my back pack must-have's so that you have one less thing to stress about.

1. A pencil case with: 4x pens, 2x pencils, 1x sharpener, 1x eraser, 3x highlighters, 1x scissors, 1x small glue.

The amount and items vary, depending on your major and personal use, but an actual pencil case is a must have. It doesn't need to be flashy, or designer.

Even a plastic ziplock bag will do!

You just need a bag or a container to store your pens so that instead of scrambling at the bottom of your bag and hopelessly trying to find a working pen, you know exactly where everything is.

2. Electronics: 1x phone charger, 1x laptop with charger, headphones

One of the worst things that can happen is low batter, so come prepared! Bring along your phone and laptop charger (if you need your lapop that day) just in case.

3. Your beauty & health case

If you wear makeup regularly, you probably already have a small makeup bag with your products.

Other people, myself included should also have a smaller bag, but not just for makeup or makeup at all.

This case should have tampons, pads, a spare set of underwear and socks (you never know when the rain decides to go apocolyptic, and going back home in wet socks is unpleasant), gum, painkillers, any meds that you may need, deodorant, body spray, hand sanitizer, tissues, some emergency cash, lipbalm etc.

Once again, the actual contents may vary, but the point stands. Get a separate case or bag for your health products, so that instead of trying to juggle several items when going to the bathroom, you can just remove your case and go do your business quickly and easily.

When possible, streamline the process.

4. A full water bottle

Staying hydrated is a must, especially during the start of the school year. All the running around the campus, trying to remember in which buliding your classes are require enough liquids.

Early autumn tends to be quite hot in my region, and only starts to cool off in mid November, so my water bottle requires constant re-filling.

Your studies will thank you, as an over-heated, dehydrated student with a raging headache is rarely a productive student.

(Source: me and a few other uni students who chose coffee over water one time too many, and lived to tell the tale. Oh the regret. Anyway. Live and learn.)

5. Food

Who has time to wake up in the morning, cook a proper lunch, pack it neatly into your lunchbox, shower, get dressed, and make it in time for your morning class bright-eyed and energized?

Not many students, especially uni students commuting to class for 1-2hrs each day.

I should probably make a separate post about meal prep on a money and time budget (lmk if that'll be useful!), but the bottom line is this:

You need to eat, and the on campus cafe's usually charge an arm and a leg, so there are a few options available.

A. Cook overnight and bring leftovers and some snacks to tide you over with you. Snacks may include fruit, sandwiches, some chips etc. Small and light.

B. Live solely on pre-bought snacks. Works for some people, not so much for others. A good option, as long as the snacks have some substance (cheetos don't count! Think more like a fruit cup, or a chicken sandwhich).

C. Depending on your location, some campuses are located in a city, so a quick 10 min bus ride to a grocery store is likely to offer more variety and better lunch options. I

've certainly done that, and guess what? The daily bus ticket and my shawarma cost less than a fancy sandwhich so there's always that!

6. The stationary: Notebooks, textbooks, a planner

Your course may require you to use just one notebook, whereas you may go through 10 notebooks per term in a different class.

Look up the syllabus and email your lecturer in advance to know what material you will need.

Don't forget to include some extra notebooks for your own out-of-class studying. Using the same notebook can have varying results.

Personally, I don't need anyone else seeing my notebook filled with what appears to be incomprehensible scribblings and ramblings, when it's just me annotating my answers to practise questions.

You may like many people use an online planner, but nothing beats having an on paper entry. Besides, it's more convenient to use in those weak or no signal buildings, with wifi so weak that they shouldn't have bothered wiring the building.

7. The wallet

Campus ID, personal ID, card, cash, driver's license, health card, maybe a business card or two.

You never know when you might need any of these things, as things happen, especially on college campuses, so always carry around some cash and an ID of some sort.

[godesssiri]

I wanted to give some advice to people who are near enough to help areas affected by the recent hurricanes and haven't been affected themselves. I live in New Zealand and last year my home town was devastated by Cyclone Gabrielle, I live 4 hours away and was organizing to get things in to people who needed them.

Look on Facebook. Groups will be organizing and sharing information about what donations are needed and where to bring them to. A determined middle-aged woman will be helping hundreds of people out of her garage or whatever empty space she's been able to sweet-talk or brow-beat some business man into loaning her.

Donate material goods that are actually needed right now. It's tempting to go 'I've got no money but I can clean out my wardrobe and give stuff'. Please don't. I saw several charities turning stuff away because SO MUCH had been dumped on them.

Right now things that you can actually give from your own homes if you have them to give or if you can appeal to your community:

Big and tall men's clothing, they'll get loads of women's and kids stuff but there will be a shortage of larger men's clothes so if you are a larger man or know one you can hit up, they'll be grateful.

Sturdy footwear, particularly rubber boots - they've got a lot of mud to slog through and they need to protect their feet.

Protective clothing, work gloves, hard hats, high vis gear.

Camping lights, head-lights, solar-lights. If they're without power these are all much safer than candles.

Monitor local Facebook groups and see if they're appealing for anything in particular.

In a few months to a year or so they're going to need everything else so if you want to help but all you've got to give is your old fridge or a pile of blankets then just hold off until people are asking for those things. Once they have a safe place to live they'll need help filling it. Keep following any Facebook groups that form and be prepared to help later.

If you can buy things to take in or get local businesses to donate or however you go about providing new things, stuff that's gonna be really helpful right now:

Prepacked food that's easy to heat up on a barbeque or camp stove. Pouches, meals in a can, just add boiling water, anything you'd take camping. Ingredients aren't really helpful right now for people who are using all their energy to survive and don't have extra to make a meal.

Milk powder. You can make up just as much as you need and don't need to worry about refrigerating it.

Bottled water.

Baby formula.

Diapers

Toilet-paper

Baby wipes. The wastewater systems will be a mess so they're probably being advised to avoid showering even if they have running water. Baby wipes are a good way to keep reasonably clean.

Clorox wipes or similar products. Just as they're having trouble keeping themselves clean it's also a challenge to keep their environment clean.

Heavy duty garbage bags. There's a lot of spoiled food, soaked/rotting paper/fabric/building materials, that need to be contained until they can be gotten rid of. Landfill is likely affected so the best they'll be able to do is seal it up in heavy duty plastic until there's somewhere they can dump it.

Camp stove gas canisters

Batteries

Pet food

Tortillas. They keep longer than leavened bread, there's a million things you can do with them, and they're way more compact for transport. (When we had the car full to the roof with stuff we were taking in to our family, I was so proud when I realized we could transport 300 tortillas in the spaces under the driver's and passenger's seats.)

Over the counter meds - there'll be lots of people doing work that's making them very sore. Also basic first aid stuff, it'd be a bitch if you survived the hurricane uninjured only to end up with an infection that you got from a splinter while cleaning up.

If you're delivering things yourself then avoid staying in the area for too long unless you're actually taking part in the clean up. Take everything that you'll need while you're there. When you leave offer to take trash out with you.

People who've been through a disaster like this will need help long term so if you can't help right now don't feel bad, keep an eye on the situation and eventually something will come up that you can help with.

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter One, Part 14 (End Chapter One)

"You already have an in. You had a date with her." Now he was laughing. Just saying because he could tell it was bugging me.

We argued a bit more about what merits a date and what doesn't. I was still standing on the fact that it wasn't, my I was starting to lose my resolve. Chad was making good points, and I had nothing. At least nothing to back me up. Finally, we agreed to disagree, even though he'd basically gotten into my head. But it was getting really late, or early, depending on what side of sleep you're on. We were on the late side.

After logging off, and grabbed three of the four bottles of medication that sat on my dresser. Out of the three bottles, I'd take nine separate pills. These were my psych meds. And every night, with a bottle of water, I would take my communion. My church came in orange plastic containers.

I lay down in my head. I didn't bother turning off the Christmas lights. I didn't like being in the pitch black. I wasn't scared of the dark. I just didn't like being alone in the dark. And with how much I would wake up throughout the night, I learned to just keep some lights on.

I checked my Facebook one last time before going to bed. At least, I told myself I was only checking it, when in reality, I just happened to click on to Chad's profile. And then on his friends list. . And then on hers little corner of the internet. Even her profile picture of tiny pixels seemed to take my breath away. I hovered over the add friend button. Unsure if I should. I closed my eyes and clicked. When I opened them, the words Friend Request Sent flashed back. I sighed. No turning back now.

I closed Facebook and opened up Spotify. I needed noise to fall asleep, so I had made a playlist of just acoustic music for bed time. I pressed play, sat my laptop on the floor next to my bed, and rolled over to face the wall. In about a half-hour, my eyes stopped blinking and stayed shut.

[dionysus-is-my-dude]

what's up, my dudes? It's been a while since I even just doomscrolled on here. I had the second part of my psych eval and got the results earlier this week. Finally OFFICIALLY diagnosed with ADHD, combined type, and reaffirmed my bipolar II, PTSD, anxiety, and depression as well. Some of my cognitive functions were noted as having gotten worse since the first time I was evaluated a few years ago. Not enjoying that, but figured that would happen. I'll have my physical eval in September, so now I have to once again play the waiting game. tw: talk about menstrual cycle

I just finished the worst period of my life. 7 days straight of such a heavy flow that I ended up in the hospital on an IV to replace all the fluids I was losing. Absolute insanity. It's undoubtedly my fault for not taking my new birth control pills correctly. They put me on a three-month set now, so I'll go three months on the pill with no period, then take a week off to have one period, to lessen how many I have. But, damn, if they're all gonna be like this, I may as well just have my stupid uterus removed.

On another note, my store is finally starting to put out Halloween stuff!! I'm so excited. So far, there hasn't been anything that I really want except this cute witch garden frog statue, but it's not worth $15 when it's broken. I'm moreso interested in the blankets when they all get here. I haven't felt a connection with any of the ones we have so far.

I'm cleaning my art room. I even took pictures and uploaded them onto Canva to circle things and make visible notes about what I want this room to look like and where to put things. I've so far only done my desk and a white storage cubby thing beside my desk, and I've gotten rid of all the dead plants and cheap, plastic pots. I have a bunch of embroidery and crochet stuff that I really wanna get rid of. Is anyone interested in buying that stuff? I've got a bag filled with a few small crochet hooks and other helpful items, tons of yarn, and lots of embroidery supplies like a storage container filled with floss and TWO books of needles. Please let me know with a message if anyone is interested in picking up these hobbies. I have pretty much everything you need to pick up either one.

That about wraps up what I've been up to since the last update. Someone recommended a book they wrote, so I'll be reading that and letting y'all know about it. Everyone, please drink plenty of water, please take your meds, and don't forget that Dionysus wants you to BE as cool as you LOOK during this hot weather.

[qiuthewhumps]

Your work is never finished: [10/07/2024]

Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”

[VENERE & SAORA MIRAI AU] — 1848 words

CW: Anaphylaxis caused by food allergy, Injection (Venere was rushing)

Context: Raspberry and rhubarb pie can look very similar at times. Chances are you also lose your sense of taste and smell when you have the flu. Never mind the fact the scent of pies become duller the longer they're out. Venere & Saora relationship building or something.

@whumperless-whump-event

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

“You're up.” Venere hummed as she walked over to the balcony, eyeing the other who was taking a smoke break.

“Hm,” Saora hummed, putting out their cigarette before glancing over with a quirk of their lips. “It’s five in the afternoon, is there a problem or do you need something?”

Venere stepped closer before leaning against the balcony railing as well. “Yuuto told me you called in sick today… So, is he lying to me or did you come here sick?”

“I was at the med bay,” Saora softly answered. Not as positive, Venere absently noted. Something was wrong, she inferred. “Then, I got out. Nothing special. Need something?”

“That’s irrelevant to my question, Saora.” Venere sighed as she sighed, looking up. The clouds were sparse, no rain risk for now, at least. “I’m sure I don’t have to explain why. So, instead, do you have another cigarette?”

The metal cigarette case was offered to her without a question. Their hands brushed as Venere took it, picking a cigarette out of it before pocketing the case into her coat. She glanced at Saora who was looking at her incredulously.

“You shouldn’t smoke when you’re sick.” Venere clicked her tongue as she looked for her lighter in her pockets. “Go home.”

“I’m not sick. What proof do you even have of tha—” Venere rolled her eyes before placing the back of her hand against Saora’s forehead. She scoffed as she pulled away to find her lighter again.

“You’re heating up. Go home.” Venere mirrored Saora’s original smile before lighting the cigarette. She took a drag, blowing the smoke up. “You’re a workaholic, but you’ll get someone infected.”

“I won’t. Data handling department got understaffed due to what happened yesterday. Whether I like it or not, I gotta be here,” Saora finally admitted softly. “I went to the med bay for some antibiotics, that’s all. I’m fine. I’m taking my meds too, and I have a mask.” They brought out a face mask from their pocket.

“Have you eaten?” Venere raised an eyebrow at Saora, suspicious. “Don’t tell me you went to the cafeteria while being sick.”

“I’m not that dumb, I just asked a trusted person to get me some food. No harm done…” Venere continued to stare Saora down. “... And it may still be on my desk, but I got busy.” Venere sighed as she took out Saora’s cigarette case from her coat, waving it as if luring a dog with its favorite toy.

“Let’s make sure you don’t die from stomach failure in the next two hours.” Venere started to walk back into the facility, She threw the cigarette in the trashcan near the balcony entrance after putting out its butt. “C’mon, puppy. You need food,” she jested with a wave of the cigarette case.

“You’re terrible.” They both made a slight laugh before Saora put on their face mask.

The walk to Saora’s office was filled with small talk, nonsense even to both of them. One moment it’d be how Saora even got sick; the next it was about how Muri was doing. Their steps were almost silent with the business in the walls. Some were already going home; others were still performing or recording. There was a salad with some dressing and a pie slice with a reddish filling in plastic containers on Saora’s desk when the two finally got to Saora’s office.

“At least it’s healthy.” Venere sighed as she took a chair from the corner closer to Saora’s desk. “Eat,” she demanded, and so, Saora sat down and dejectedly opened the salad first before removing their face mask.

“Don’t you have something else to do?” Saora queried as they took a forkful of the salad, slowly chewing and swallowing. Venere clicked her tongue before shaking her head. None immediately came to mind. If anything, she was just waiting for results. “My taste buds feel kind of dead…”

“Waiting. That can be done anywhere, no?” Venere replied with a small huff. She eyed the pie then the salad, analyzing and thinking. She could recall there being salad in the cafeteria but not the pie, must be personally bought then? “It happens when you’re sick. You like pie?”

“I like baking, so more or less. Yeah, I do.” Venere absently noted that to memory. Perhaps she could get them some sweets from that bakery she always passed by on her walk. It’d be better than the silent time they caught each other on the balcony in the early hours. “I usually bake pastries like cupcakes, pies, cookies, brownies… Stuff like that in general.”

“Favorite pastry?” She said instead to fill in the space as she watched Saora eat the salad. The soft clack of utensils against a plastic box or the table below it was the only other sound really. “Where’s Chelo as well? It’s usually trailing behind you more often than not.”

“Rhubarb pie. It’s a pie my mom used to make, so I learned it too.” Saora smiled lightly before pointing at the salad with their fork. “It looks like this. I wonder if it is. Chelo had some type of maintenance. The last time they had something like Meniere's disease. An error on the experiment, so they’re trying to fix it. There’s still a vomit stain on my couch from the vertigo they got, actually. Should get bleach or something for that…”

“So, it technically failed at its job,” Venere deadpanned. She leaned back in her chair. Saora gave her a look, so she switched the topic. “What does rhubarb pie taste like?” 

“Well, rhubarb looks like celery! It has a similar texture to it as well. Though in terms of taste people compare it to being like a sour cherry—it’s very tart. Rhubarb pies are basically tart pies. They taste good, I promise. It also goes along quite well with something sweet if you don’t like the tartness too much… Strawberries are one. People do use rhubarb for baking, mostly pies and cakes are what I know it’s used for in baking. It makes a great jam when mixed with strawberries; it takes more prep, but it tastes really good.” Saora smiled as they talked between mouthfuls of salad they swallowed. “I can bring you some rhubarb pie or crisps next time. I’m planning to bake some on one of these weekends.”

Venere hummed along as Saora went on an entire ramble about rhubarb. She didn’t mind, she hadn’t heard much of the vegetable before. “Sure, I’ll hold you to that.”

Saora nodded at her before continuing on talking about random things, relating to their home. Venere wasn’t sure if she enjoyed Saora’s talking or not; the other seemed to spill information about themself almost carelessly… Yet, it also let Venere fill in all the little details about Saora. It satisfied her need for knowledge. In some way, it was pleasant. Others, it was reckless.

Before either of them knew it, Saora had finished their salad. They easily placed the plastic container into the trash can in their office. Venere quietly watched as Saora opened the container with the pie next.

“Does it taste good?” Venere couldn’t help but ask as she watched Saora take their first bite of the pie. Saora gave a shrug; she couldn’t help the amuse scoff that came out of her lips.

“Can’t taste it, but the texture is interesting,” Saora clarified before taking another bite. “Probably because it’s been on my desk for a few hours.” Venere hummed in agreement at that. Time could certainly change the texture.

She let the silence sit between them, letting Saora enjoy the pie—their favorite type of pastry so it was only right—while she thought of what to do after… Till she heard a wheeze, making her immediately look toward Saora. The fork fell to the floor with a clatter as they put a hand over their throat as their breathing became shallower.

Venere immediately stood up, crossing to Saora’s side of the desk as she gently moved Saora’s hand away from their neck as she tried to investigate. Their skin was flushed but Venere had a feeling it wasn’t because they were running the flu. She pressed her fingers a bit tighter on Saora’s wrist—Venere could feel their pulse. It was weakening but rapid. An allergic reaction?

Venere didn’t have time to think about it as Saora moved out of her grip, stumbling to a cabinet against one of the walls. She followed almost instinctively as Saora doubled over—their hand covering their mouth instead. Nausea? It didn’t matter, she rushed over to look into the cabinet.

Epinephrine. That was the first thing she noticed as she looked into the cabinet. Epinephrine injections. Anaphylaxis. Venere didn’t hesitate to take one of the injections. She prepped it quickly before coming close and practically stabbing Saora in the middle of their thigh through their pants with the injection. The priority was making sure Saora wouldn’t die in the next half hour.

A pathetic little whimper of pain left Saora as they sunk to the ground. Venere followed their movements, injecting them properly before tossing the needle away. She gently massaged where she had stabbed Saora for a few moments before getting up, rushing out of the office and calling out the first worker she saw. Her voice was low and threatening as she demanded for the worker to call for some medics. Venere scoffed as she watched the man scurry away to find help before hearing a thump behind her—

Saora was stumbling around despite having just been injected with epinephrine when they suddenly had anaphylaxis. She clicked her tongue as she went over and pushed Saora to sit down on the ground again. She crouched to their height. “Saora, don’t get up. Sit down. I’ve called medics and I’m going to call HR. You’re going home right after they discharge you from med bay.”

She received a pathetic whine in response, but Saora stopped struggling.

.

.

Bonus:

Venere sighed as Saora was brought out of their office and to the med bay. She stared for a moment before glancing over to their desk. The half-eaten pie was still there. It didn’t make sense. Saora had adamantly explained the taste of rhubarb, so did they suddenly develop an allergy? But that wouldn’t explain why Saora would have epinephrine in a cabinet—

Whoever said it was actually rhubarb?

She paused. Venere stepped closer to the desk before dipping the tip of her finger into the filling, taking a small taste… It tasted like raspberries, not this rhubarb Saora explained of. It had a taste of sweetness—not remotely close to tasting like a sour cherry.

While Saora wouldn’t have an allergy to rhubarb, they had mentioned once being allergic to a type of berry during one of their rambles in the past. Raspberry. Venere scoffed. At least the cabinet with epinephrine injections made sense now. It was a “just in case”.

Which also meant, either someone attempted to trigger Saora’s allergies, or it was an honest mistake.

Either way, Venere was going to fucking sue someone.

[snowandstarlight]

today i got recommended a tweet by a med student on surgery talking about how confusing it is to learn all the different supplies we use

my twitter is private (plus i have no desire to be any part of medtwitter) but just in case a guide to that stuff might be useful to any med students who follow me, here goes:

Dressing Supplies (and other things you might find in the supply room)

Wound care is an entire field so this isn't so much a guide to that as it is what different things you should recognize on people who've just had surgery when you're rounding on a surgery service

Gauze (also called 4x4s): okay this one is pretty self-explanatory. comes in 2x2, 4x4, 4x8, used for closed wounds (gauze and tape), open wounds (often wet to dry; gauze moistened with saline covered with dry gauze; this does some debridement when you take it off), around drains and tubes (yes they make special drain sponges but those are useless for everything else so if you're going to carry something in your pocket i'd carry gauze)

Telfa/non-adherent gauze: this won't stick to wounds as much, used as initial dressing in the OR (under tegaderm)

Petroleum gauze: gauze soaked in petroleum jelly, for wounds that you want to keep moist

Xeroform gauze: petroleum gauze impregnated with iodine (we use this for amputations, both guillotine and formal)

Kerlix: a roll of gauze. good for wrapping limbs to keep dressings in place

Ace wrap: okay everyone probably knows what this is. also good for wrapping limbs when you want compression (post-op amputation stumps, DVTs with leg swelling, etc.)

Tegaderm: clear plastic adhesive dressing, used as initial dressing in the OR (over telfa or gauze), for dressings around drains and tubes, for occlusive dressing (when removing a chest tube or central line), to secure IVs, etc, etc

Tape: comes in several varieties. paper tape is the least sticky and least irritating to skin, so that's usually what we use for dressings that don't have to be water tight (like after we've taken off the initial OR dressings and we're just using dry gauze). silk tape is very sticky, great for sticking dressings to other parts of the dressings, securing tube connections, keeping NG tubes in place (one of the rare times when I put silk tape on skin)

Suture removal kit: contains scissors, really shitty forceps, and some gauze. more importantly, it's probably the most expedient way to obtain a scissor on a surgical floor

as a med student, one of your jobs is to be prepared for dressing changes on rounds. as you go along, you'll learn which patients need what but in general, it's good to carry some gauze, paper tape, and a scissor at all times. that's what all those pockets are good for!

anyway, i hope this is helpful! if there's anything else that would be helpful for surgery clerkship, let me know!

[firespirited]

Finally got to the Doctor, turns out she's been dealing with a family emergency all December (no she's not a trauma dumper, I'm the type who asks... and listens for 40 minutes because, well, clearly she hasn't been asked by many and needed to vent about bureaucracy and paperwork and difficult family members)

So that explains why she's been technically Not on holiday but also Not available.

Gonna do stool sample number three!!! *sarcastic confetti and noisemakers* with very careful wording and hope the lab don't mess up again along with a blood test for another potential GI tract hijacker.

If that falls through, we have to find out why malabsorbtion is happening with tubes that go down and up my tubes à moi. Probably 'up' given the severe daily pains in the lower intestines.

I'm terrified of intestinal cramping during a colonoscopy causing a tear in the guts and being one of the fatal 1% but have a plan to inform everyone and sharpie warnings on my arms if it ever comes to that exam. Yes, that's getting way ahead of ourselves: Adhd brain and medical trauma means I had 5-10 brain tabs open on next step risks and pitfalls within a second of her saying the word specialist.

I forgot to inform her that I've been eating leafy greens, iron supplements and cheap chicken bits to fight the anemia so if it's not as bad as expected it's because I'm horfing down whatever iron I can get ... my bp was below nine during the appointment, could barely stay on track.

Guess I'll shoot her an email after my blood test. Might need to confirm if she expected me to auto up my bp meds without asking permission (I've been living in, like, zombie mode because that hadn't occurred to me)

So she's back, we have another option to explore, she might medicate the symptoms of malabsorbtion if it looks ugly on the tests. Progress? I think? Hope at least.

Getting 'we didn't test for candida' on the second, now more clearly marked, candida test on the 26th of December was a massive blow as I'd stupidly staked so much hope on that test. 'We will neither confirm nor deny we did a candida test because we're being pedantic about precise precriptions' over the phone a few days later wasn't reassuring either. And my dr had been on call but not replying to phone or email since early dec which was concerning.

______________

For your edutainment: here's how to do a stool sample.

If the pot is nice and big like it could contain two glasses of orange juice, you're in luck you can probably go right in it. Most are smaller single OJ if not single yoghurt plastic pots.

So first, pee. Very important step, you may pee later but at least it's less mess. Get some cling film (saran wrap) and carry a cut sheet to the loo (rather than bringing a kitchen item into your toilet room) , drape it over the back 3/4 of your toilet under the seat so there's a little poo catcher nook and make sure its well attached on both sides.

Do your poo, stuff toilet paper between your cheeks, open the pot. Get up, turn around, use the poo pot to gather a sample, close pot with loo paper. Pull down cling film at an angle and wash cling film in flush water, place it in a doggie poop bag to go in the trash.

Wipe bottom, flush again.

Wash outside of stool pot carefully, wash your hands carefully. Put stool pot in an opaque marked bag in the fridge far from food, more towards closed sauces until someone with a car can drop it off. Copro Culture takes 3 days, if you have internet access to results you could have them then.

Very important to remember : unless you have a blessèd routine involving a morning coffee and precise timing. This could take several attempts and several cling film sheets. Do not get up too fast to grab that pot if you have POTS or feel in any way drained - I promise it can wait, nearly passing out face first over a toilet with a film poop ledge is not great. Still better than most people's uninformed attempt at collecting a normal sized poo in the undersized pot!

In the same way, pee samples are 'pass under the stream briefly' not sample the whole pee. Entire pee samples come with a bottle sized pot: ask for two, we hydrate better than previous generations.

[cat-arsenal]

Hold Me Like a Grudge (Gavin x Lasko Royal AU) Ch. 2

CW: This chapter contains Lasko coping with the loss of a limb, abuse of power, and dismissive language surrounding worth and bodily autonomy.

The Kingdom of Dahlia is known for its prosperity, but its medical technology is lacking.

Two days after the bomb exploded at his feet, Lasko wakes in a med tent with a pounding headache and a dull pain in his right leg. He sits up slowly, taking stock of his body.

Headache (probably a concussion); no burns or cuts, certainly the work of a healer; both arms, both legs, one of them burning.

No.

He throws the blanket off and stares in numb horror at the spot where his right leg ends in neat bandages at the knee.

His lower leg is gone. He can see that it's gone, but he can feel the ache in it as clearly as if it were still there, still on fire. He tries to sit up farther, but the pain of the mangled muscle and skin takes his breath away, and he falls back hard against his pillow.

He can't think about what it means right now. He needs to know what became of the others.

He calls for a medic, voice ragged, and one sweeps in quickly, looking surprised and relieved.

"What happened to the civilians?" he asks before they can ask about him. "And my squad?"

"All safe," the healer assures him. "Your troops drove off the bandits and brought you back here." Lasko exhales, relaxing somewhat, but it only lasts a moment before the healer continues, looking regretful. "We did everything we could about your leg, but it was too far gone. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says quietly, fighting back nausea. "Thank you for saving my life."

The healer bows and hurries off. Lasko closes his eyes, heart sinking. His life was saved, but his leg was lost. What of his career? He had dedicated most of his life to the military, to being the best solider and commander he could be. What did a lost leg mean for that?

Magic had closed his wounds, but it couldn't bring back his leg. Technology could give him a replacement, but it would be nothing like the original. He spends the night sleepless, kept awake by pain and loss, and is fitted for a prosthetic in the morning.

The next few weeks are long and miserable.

He spends his time either resting or doing physical therapy, a combination of stretches and magic designed to minimize nerve pain and maximize mobility. The drudgery is occasionally interrupted by his visiting crew, who bring him flowers and alcohol and news from the field.

His second-in-command, who was with him at the trading post, has been serving as leader in his stead. In response to the attack, security around all trading posts has been increased. He and his squadmates have received medals for protecting the post and its people.

No one will tell him when he can return to the field. He hopes against hope that he can return at all.

He can walk well enough with a crutch, and for a short time without one, but there can be no running or crouching or complex maneuvers like before. Wearing the prosthetic for more than a few hours at a time is very painful, leaving the skin of his leg red and angry even when padded.

His body is otherwise healed, but the loss of his leg continues to dampen his spirits. He could survive without it. He would survive without it. But what will he do for the rest of his life? The military was all he had. He has the means to comfortably retire, but he would lose his mind trapped at home.

Finally, a month after the incident, someone will finally talk to him. It isn't good news.

He has just finished physical therapy when an extravagantly-dressed man steps into the room. He looks vaguely familiar--Lasko thinks he recognizes him from a parade or some other event.

Yes. His greasy, plastic smile confirms him as a diplomat, a minor noble--friend of the royal family and generous donor to every organization that might make him look good.

"General Moore," the man says, arms spread wide. Lasko moves to stand, but the man waves him off. "Oh, don't get up for my sake. Relax, be comfortable!"

"Thank you, sir," Lasko says stiffly. "May I ask what brings you to medical?"

"Why, you, of course!" Lasko feels cold. He keeps his face neutral as the man continues, pacing around the room like a preening bird. "Your reputation precedes you. Youngest and most accomplished general in Dahlia's history, adored by peers and subordinates alike...How long have you served, Mr. Moore?"

Lasko never cared for titles in conversation, but he doesn't like the way this man has dropped his. So he does the same.

"Ten years."

"A whole decade. Impressive. And you attended the academy before that?"

"Yes. Is there a point to this line of questioning?" Lasko asks. The man laughs.

"So suspicious! I'm not questioning you; I'm just making conversation!"

"You left your palace and came all the way to the edge of the kingdom to 'make conversation?'"

The man sighs dramatically and raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Alright. I didn't come to chat. I came to give you the good news!" He claps his hands together excitedly, but Lasko just stares. He's certain that whatever news this man brings can't be good.

"You won't be stuck here anymore," the man crows. "And, you'll never have to go into the field again!"

Lasko's mouth is dry, ears pounding with dread.

"What do you mean?" he asks quietly. The man smiles, clearly pleased with himself.

"You are going to Desiderium to be a companion to the king."

Companion? Desiderium is another free kingdom, populated predominantly by demons. Why would he need to go there?

The man's smug grin never fades, and he raises his arms and eyebrows like he's given Lasko an amazing present and is waiting to be thanked.

"Isn't that wonderful? You're going to be a concubine!"

Concubine? Lasko's ears are hot. Human royals haven't kept concubines in years. Not legally, at least. But what of demons?

"I," Lasko breathes, "I'm a solider. A-a general."

The man makes patronizing noises.

"Aww. Not anymore."

Lasko stands abruptly. The military has been his life. Dahlia has been his life. And now this bureaucrat is threatening to take all of it away.

"You can't. You c-can't send me away, strip me of my rank."

"I can, and I am."

"Who authorized this?" Lasko snarls, fists shaking at his sides.

"His Majesty," the man replies airily. It's then that Lasko recognizes him as Alberto, the king's favorite nephew. Very few people outrank the top general, the King of Dahlia chief among them. Meaning Lasko can't argue. His life is over.

The fight drains from him. His shoulders slump, and he drops his head, a thousand terrible scenarios running through his mind.

"Why?" he finally whispers.

"You're a liability. What good is a solider who can't carry their own weight? This is the best way you can serve your country now." Lasko doesn't respond, and the man shrugs on his way out. "Cheer up, Moore. There are worse things than being an incubus' toy."

[manicpixieirl]

june 26, 2023

I didn’t want to write about today, yesterday, or the day before.

I need to acknowledge that if I fully want to capture my experience on this earth, I need to write about the not-so-easy days. I can’t just write about the days I am enjoying life, I have to write about the days that I hate being alive and about the days that are harder than that... I have to write about the complacent days, the numb days,

the survival days.

The days where I can’t feel a damn thing.

I experience a couple of days a month where I am just trying to make it to the next day; I find it hard to want to be alive. These feelings are not always grounded in reality, but they’re real- I am working harder to acknowledge that just because my imbalance is chemical, doesn’t mean it's nonexistent. I also don’t need to explain them away or give them meaning, yet here I sit; trying to intellectualize my feelings of my inconsistent indifference towards life without considering that, maybe, feelings are for feeling and not for intellectualizing.

I have had a week full of survival days. My survival days are not my best days, I mindlessly snack too much or don’t eat at all. I find it hard to leave the walls of my studio apartment; it’s hard to shower, clean, or brush my hair. All of my life-skills go out the window when I am focused on trying to breathe life into myself again, and I can’t even pick up a hairbrush.

I lose the sense of enchantment that the world usually gives me. If there is one perk to being bipolar, it’s that I know the enchantment will return at full volume.

The hardest part about feeling myself enter survival mode is that I know what’s coming - I go from living and experiencing life in full color to being an empty head and a numb body. I guess I thought the lows would stop completely, but I don’t think that’s the point of med-management. I think these lows are supposed to seem more manageable, and today I took out the trash and did some laundry, so I guess it’s working.

I would much rather feel everything than nothing. I hate feeling nothing but I love feeling everything, I know that that too will fade with the antipsychotics. I hope I can remain just as enchanted with the world, just with less lows getting in the way.

More often than not, there is no in between when it comes to feeling everything and feeling nothing. I am constantly up-shifting and down-shifting between the two; either cruising on a moonlit backroad or driving mindlessly in foggy morning traffic on a monotonous freeway.

This week I have felt a whole lot of nothing. It’s been a freeway week.

I am thankful for the city I moved to, for the strangers who make my mindless days more mindful by nodding my way on the street, a simple hello that will carry me from my afternoon walk to bedtime.

I am thankful for my friends who don’t take it personally when I need to hibernate; when I need to learn how to access myself again. I am thankful for a partner who consistently shows up, whether I am seeing life in full color or just surviving it. I am thankful for microwave meals, my cat, and the ability to pick up a book and put my mind elsewhere.

But sometimes it is just so fucking hard to pick up that book, or to peel the plastic off of the container and make a meal. Sometimes it feels like the hardest thing I could do is put on my sneakers and seek out a stranger’s nod on an afternoon walk and sometimes it's even hard to be a good partner when I don’t feel like I can access a single atom of a feeling.

The best thing I have done for myself is let people know. So here I am, letting you know, I am here and sometimes I have a hard time being here. I think there is a big difference between wanting to die and not wanting to be alive - I have experienced wanting to die and this isn't that. It’s just a little disenchantment that will quickly resolve because that is my experience as a human living with Bipolar Disorder on this earth.

I hope the next time you hear from me, I am enchanted again.

[harpywritesfic]

🦕 DINO TIME

ask game is here

OH HELL YEAH. I had to make an outline for my answer here 😅

When I was little I was the dino-obsessed kid in the family. In high school I bought myself the Jurassic World Evolution game and this obsession returned with a vengeance. Very satisfying hyperfixation.

I got a 1$ dinosaur egg thing, one of those little clay eggs you dig a little dino out of. Most fun I'd had in weeks. I kind of had a revelation about small pleasures.

In my adv bio class I ran the show during our prehistoric unit. The teacher once asked me if I knew a word he'd forgotten and I had to tell him I hadn't read that wikipedia article yet.

I had an allergic reaction to some meds I was on and had to go to the emergency room and stay the night in the hospital. I was fine, I just didn't manage to convince the doctors I was. Apparently they aren't inclined to believe you when you're in anaphylactic shock. Anyway when my dad came to pick me up he brought me a triceratops christmas ornament from the gift shop. this was the beginning of many dinosaur themed gifts.

When I went back to class I was telling my adv bio teacher about how tired I was, and he said that sort of thing takes a lot out of you. Which was nice of him but I do think the double dose of Benadryl every 4 hours had something to do with it.

In his class, we were watching Jurassic Park and noting all the biological inaccuracies. My teacher mentioned that the book was much better and I shouted "thEre'S a BOOK???" in reference to a meme I couldn't remember until the next day. (it was the "there's a BEE!?" vine). Not sure how I didn't know there was a book. Especially considering my father owns the sequel. Anyway I went to my next class and promptly bombed my Hamlet final, then opened amazon and failed to contain my evil cackling as I bought the book. (No, I have not finished it. I haven't even gotten through the first part.)

My profile picture is two sponge stegosaurus kissing propped up on my monitor. They're from a pack of capsule dinosaurs that my younger sister bought for me. If you're not familiar, I found a picture. And also my pfp so you can see it better. (Yes, there’s a painting propped on the monitor)

My mom gave me an advent calendar of little plastic dinosaurs. I stuck them up in a row on top of my monitor and one of my mutuals said they're watching me be wild on the internet.

I have a weighted dino plushie from Target that I love so so much that I bought one for both of my irl friends. I have many more dinosaur gifts I could mention, let's just say my parents like giving me dino stuff and leave it at that. I make gifts really easy because I have zero shame over having somewhat childish interests. Like, I'll take whatever happiness I can get, thank you very much, I'm not gonna stop and worry about people seeing me carrying a giant squishmallow through costco.

Best dino is any longneck, no contest. They're technically called sauropods and I know this. Now you also know this.

[aardvaark]

silly little post of me explaining what main song i associate with each of the following characters i like or relate to :) feel free to tell me if you have a song for one of them or someone else!!

/disclaimer: this doesn’t really reflect my music taste or every character i like, it’s just for fun and i amn. so so sensitive. be kind i beg/

characters: dr "bones" brennan, emily prentiss, camille preaker, sarah reese, root (poi), faith lehane, dr lisa cuddy, parker (leverage)

dr temperance "bones" brennan (bones): literally so hard for me to pick a song for her for some reason. she��s just not a person who can be described in a song, idk. people watching by conan gray would cover her whole relationship with booth. a pearl by mitski, too. easy on me by adele is a lot about her feelings. foreigners god by hozier really reminds me of her too. first love/late spring by mitski is kind of her life just before she and booth were together, "please hurry leave me, i can’t breathe/please don’t say you love me".

emily prentiss (criminal minds): okay there’s two for prentiss that i feel very strongly about. firstly, brand new city by mitski. especially during the doyle arc, the lines "i think my fate is losing its patience/i think the ground is pulling me down" are so relevant. but mainly because prentiss does indeed run away and "move to a brand new city" whenever she’s cornered. from interpol to the bau, from the bau to france, from france to the bau again, the bau to interpol (england?) again, back to the bau. and then she starts packing her house up when she gets in trouble again, and spencer has to talk her down. so the words "i should move to a brand new city/and teach myself how to die" is just… so her. secondly, bad things by cults. "bad things happen to the people you love/and you find yourself praying up to heaven above/but honestly i’ve never had much sympathy/cause those bad things? i always saw them coming for me"… do i even need to explain further? she def feels doomed in her early seasons, and then the "bad things" being all the cases, and "praying up to heaven above" reminds me of her religious trauma.

camille preaker (sharp objects): dollhouse by melanie martinez. for uh. the obvious reason, if you’ve read sharp objects or seen the mini series adaptation lol. her sister loves that dollhouse. but also because the dollhouse in the story and the dollhouse metaphor in the song are very similar. the idea of a picture-perfect family being fake or "plastic", in a beautiful house that really contains so many years of suffering for her, "everyone thinks that we’re perfect/please don’t let them look through the curtains". and of course "no one ever listens" and "i see things that nobody else sees… the town sees her mother’s facade of perfection, but she sees the horrific things that went down behind the scenes.

dr sarah reese (chicago med): i am not a robot by marina. literally just the sentiment of "i am not a robot"… they all treat her like she’s just a medicine machine and/or a thing that needs to be fixed. i wish she was on the show long enough to resolve that. i wish she had yelled at them not to treat her like that.

root (person of interest): gasoline by halsey. literally just her life. "you are part of a machine" literally… she’s the interface of The Machine. lol. but also arms tonite by mother mother… she would say all that to shaw without blinking. "don’t you think it’s kind of cute/that i died right inside your arms tonight" like tell me that she wouldn’t say that to shaw!! but THE root x shaw song is like real people do by hozier.

faith lehane (buffy thé vampire slayer): the archer by taylor swift. not a "swiftie" or whatever they call it, but this song does fit faith. "i ride off alone/i never grew up/it’s getting so old" cause she literally has no one tbh, and she just drags buffy down but she can’t help it. "and all of my heroes die all alone" being the Slayer seems to mean being alone, means dying young. a heroic death, but a death nonetheless. it’s her fate. what a horrible thing for a teenage girl to already know. "cause all of my enemies started out friends" well yeah the scooby gang. "i’m ready for combat/i say i don’t want that but what if i do?" her Big Problem was always really that she liked the fight too much. and then obviously "i’ve been the archer/and i’ve been the prey" cause she’s always stuck between being this incredible hero who kills vampires and being a scared child who was thrown into a war, between being supported by her fellow Slayer and being the enemy. i imagine her being the narrator and the "you" in the song being buffy.

dr lisa cuddy (house md): my alcoholic friends by the dresden dolls. the friends being house obviously. i feel like the vagueness and confusing sorta lyrics represent how we don’t actually know all that much about her past so it can be ambiguously interpreted. but the last verse is what makes it her song. "should i choose a noble occupation?" shes a doctor. "if i did, i’d only show up late and/sick and they would stare at me with hatred" she often feels clearly overwhelmed with her work, with the decisions she’s forced to make, with working in a place of so much death… the doctors talk about her, obviously especially house. they do stare at her in one scene and that always comes to mind but explaining that would be spoiling things lol. "my only natural talent’s wasted/on my alcoholic friends" her natural talent of being the only person to even be able to remotely rein in house, and she wastes her time dealing with his problems so much. in the earlier seasons especially, she really doesn’t get to have a life - she is too well suited to working in her role and dealing with house, and she basically has to babysit house all the time.

parker (leverage): i haven’t finished this show, in fact i’ve only recently started it, so i don’t know exactly. but i’m obsessed with parker, she’s so me!! rn i would say that some songs fitting her would be - hermit the frog by marina (vibes), bubble gum by clairo (her and hardison/sad vibe when ppl tell her she’s weird or needs to stop talking), treehouse by alex g (vibes), my ordinary life by the living tombstone (she’d listen to it while stealing), boy in the bubble by alec benjamin (her youth), liability by lorde (ppl say she’s crazy and a liability), a mask of my own face by lemon demon ("who’s alice white?"), i need to be alone by girl in red (she always likes being alone lol), this is home by cavetown (her youth), and are you bored yet? by wallows + clairo (vibes).

[hartshorn-and-isinglass]

Awwww, Beeps missed us. I've been seriously depriving her of attention for the last several weeks because of All The Sewing.

So, some lessons from the logstics/style side of this trip:

Spouse needs to have a spare set of meds on his person so that we don't get fucked like this again LOL. Unmedicated, he woke up every two or three hours, and woke me up every time he hopped out of bed. It was not a pleasant time and it took a noticeable toll on both of us. I was really counting on getting a full night's sleep after having such a prolonged sleep deficit.

...but that also does not let me off the hook on being more responsible for my own sleep hygiene. I got caught off-guard with all this work and I cannot be doing this to myself every fall if I want to fully enjoy what will be a finite number of opportunities to see Les Blorbeaux in person. I need to have my last outfit for the season prepped and ready WELL in advance so I have a full array of spoons with me for the actual concert.

I need a second passenger-side sun shade for the car window if we're going to be traveling out there in the afternoon/evening. My God, that sun was brutal on the way down. I might just make one from squares of black and white paper and some tape because fuck buying more plastic shit.

I may seriously want to look into doing chemical perms for my hair. I already had issues with holding my hands above my head thanks to the fibro, but it's become just that much more unpleasant with my compressed nerve--and having to worry about my curls falling out hours before the concert really bit into my prep time and my allotment of spoons. Now that my hair is not as long as it once was and doesn't get exposed to direct sunlight nearly as often as it once did, maybe it will be okay to give it a go? The question is, if I'm worried about how long even a chemical perm will last on my hopelessly fine, straight hair, how close to the next concert should I actually do it?

The boots situation. Now that the batwing boots are kaput, and my bombing-around-town boots are also getting pretty worn down, I need to make some footwear decisions. I think I will get one thrifted (but this time it has to be real leather...) pair for more casual/errand use, and one Crater My Wallet pair for nice outings, so they will last me a while.

I sewed a soft glasses case to my external pocket belt (the one that holds my cell phone and wallet so I can dangle my farb fob strings over my trousers) and it turns out that adding one more thing to that setup tips it over into sensory overload for me. I quickly reverted back to the purse for most of the weekend. Going forward, if I want to keep the watch strings look, I will need a separate external container for my glasses/sunglasses. That is a project for Very Later, however, as I've already screwed myself over with a new project for November...