#pain interventions

[nemapaincare]

Best Doctors for Cancer Treatment​ | Nema Pain Care

At Nema Pain Care, we have some of the Best Doctors for Cancer Treatment, specializing in Radiation Oncology, Interventional Pain Management, and Palliative Care. Our team provides advanced cancer therapies, including IMRT, IGRT, Rapid Arc, and interventional pain relief techniques, ensuring comprehensive, personalized treatment plans for cancer patients at every stage.

Let me know if you need any refinements! 🚀

[madbard]

All my respect and appreciation to the artists and writers who show Stan reminding Ford to get some sleep, but the sleep schedule aboard the Stan O’ War II would be so incredibly cursed.

On the one hand, we have Ford “Gets So Fixated On Whatever He’s Investigating That He Ends Up Working Until He Literally Passes Out, and Was Also On the Run for Decades With Few Opportunities to Rest” Pines, on the other we have Stan “Became Essentially Nocturnal For Thirty Years, Running a Small Business in the Daytime and Rebuilding a Portal At Night, Relying Mainly On Naps” Pines.

The two brothers with the worst possible sleep schedules are now in the middle of the ocean with nobody else for comparison.

Yeah, neither of them are getting the recommended seven hours.

[naamahdarling]

You know what? You know what I think?

I think that if we lived as we were meant to, in larger intimate ("extended family") groups and with more shared labor and time to do it (UBI NOW) people like me would not feel so useless and burdensome because there would be people around to help and to do what neurodivergent people can't while making valuable space for the neurodivergent to do what they ARE good at.

The way we live right now, all right, the way we live right now forces units of two adults to be able to do EVERYTHING or PAY to have someone come do it for them. I have to do the housework. I have to do it! But I am having to do a million different things and most of them I am not good at. I suck at them.

I wouldn't feel like shit, okay, if I had more than one other person around who was not a child and who could do the things I can't, like do the yard and cook and do repairs and basic maintenance; and someone else to split everything else that I like but is too much for me. It would free me to do what I am good at and enjoy. Cleaning, as in the sink and toilet, the windows, the blinds. Taking out trash. Folding, hanging, and sorting laundry.

But because all the shit I can do often relies on other shit being done first, and I can't do or have trouble doing those things, the shit I can do often can't be done. And even the shit I can do, I can't do ALL of it. So I can't keep up, and things get very bad.

We aren't meant to live like this. We are not meant to live like this.

That thought hurts so much because being able to flee the birth family is integral to survival for so many people. I'm so afraid that living in larger family groups would create more opportunities for, say, queer kids to be isolated, rejected, bullied, and abused. But if we gave people enough money to survive, and stopped considering children the property of their parents with no system in place to help them escape bad situations except a system that is often just as bad, just different.

I'm aware that communes and collectives aren't all that successful and are kind of a joke. I don't mean that. I mean a fundamental shift to multigenerational families where taking in "strays" (which my family did) is also normalized so people escaping abuse into existing households was accepted, with these families centered in maybe a couple of different larger residences so not everyone has to buy and maintain their own fucking washing machine and vacuum cleaner, and so people can benefit from large group meals that yield leftovers, and so child and elder care can also be centralized.

Then disabled people and the neurodivergent and sick and injured people, and pregnant people, and grieving people, would not have to either labor through all those stressors or consign themselves to living off an unlivable pittance or being put under legal guardianship.

I'm not saying anything new. People live like this in other parts of the world and maybe it sucks and I am wrong. But I'm just really mad right now because I can either do laundry or clean the sink but not both, and I really think we could improve society somewhat by making it so I did not have to choose one without sacrificing the other.

[discard-celestia]

lestat de lioncourt - on the deer which runs faster than itself. Hélène Cixous, Stigmata / Anne Rice, The Vampire Lestat / Interview with a Vampire (2022) / Catherine Malabou, Ontology of the Accident / Czeslaw Milosz, New and Collected Poems: 1931-2001 / Louis Moe, Allegory / Ovid, Metamorphoses / Ethel Cain, Ptolomea / The Company of Wolves (1984) / Lingua Ignota, I WHO BEND THE TALL GRASSES / Hugh Parry, Ovid's Metamorphoses: Violence in a Pastoral Landscape.

[vaguely-concerned]

walking through lucanis' mind prison. the tam lin of it all

[colgeras]

zelda and link’s house has stores of various hyrulean herbs and plants scattered about. a bundle of dried swift violets hanging by a window, for brewing into teas on days where one of both of them don’t quite have the energy to do their daily errands. crates of endura shrooms and stamella shrooms for making into stir-fry, for days when just getting out of bed is proving difficult. hearty truffles for times when the wear of the last century becomes too much for tired bones to bear. zelda will find herself in the hateno general store picking out various ingredients, and the inn keeper who just so happens to be stocking up on milk will notice, and she will jot down tried and true recipes that will be sure to soothe link’s aching joints.

[solazu1]

Actually yeah, operator sickness definitely gave Jay chronic pain send post.

[forbidden-salt]

Breaking the Silence; My Mental Health Story for Worldwide Suicide Prevention Day

By ForbiddenSalt

9/10/2024

Trigger Warning: This blog post discusses suicidal ideation, depression, and mental health struggles. If you are in a vulnerable state, please read with caution, and know that support is available through resources like 988, friends, and loved ones.

Resources and helpful tools for self and loved ones provided below the fold.

My Story:

Suicide Awareness Day holds a deeply personal meaning for me. For years, I struggled silently with suicidal thoughts, depression, and anxiety, unsure of how to ask for help or whether I deserved it. Sharing my story now is not just about raising awareness, but about offering hope to anyone who feels the same weight I once carried.

At the age of 13, I began to experience something many people are hesitant to talk about—suicidal ideation. But it wasn’t until I was in college that I truly realized how dangerous those thoughts had become.

I remember one day when I was walking across campus from class to my dorm, lost in thought, and accidentally stepped off the curb without looking. A car was coming toward me. Instinctively, I jumped back, avoiding an accident. But what happened next startled me more than the near-miss. As I stood on the sidewalk, tears welled up, not because I was relieved, not because I was scared—I was upset that my instincts had saved me. I realized I wasn’t crying because I had narrowly avoided getting hit by a car; I was crying because, in that moment, I wanted to be hit. It would have been an "accident"—a way out without me having to act intentionally.

It dawned on me that this was something much more serious than I had admitted to myself.

This wasn’t the first time I had experienced suicidal thoughts, but it was one of the most shocking moments. I knew I needed help. I sought out a counselor at the campus health center and, for a time, tried therapy. When I went home for a break, I spoke to my doctor, and she prescribed me an SSRI. I confided in my family and was met with mixed reactions—some were supportive, while others expressed concerns about the medication, urging me to stop taking it as quickly as possible. This set up an internal battle for me; I began starting and stopping my medication over the next few months, caught between fear and shame; and eventually quit all together.

Suicidal ideation lingered in the back of my mind for years. I wished for a pause button, a way to make the world stop so I could catch my breath and somehow not fall behind. I dreamed of getting hurt or sick enough to be hospitalized, just so I could take a break from life’s demands. But I never let myself act on those thoughts.

It wasn’t until my mid-20s that things got so bad I returned to therapy. This time, it was different. My new therapist helped me understand that I wasn’t “crazy”—I was carrying the weight of childhood trauma and years of struggling to survive. She diagnosed me with complex PTSD, and for the first time, I felt understood. Her support gave me the strength to make significant changes in my life, including moving to a new state.

There, I found another therapist who continued to guide me through the ups and downs. I started back on an SSRI and have stayed on it ever since. Through this process, I realized that what I had been dealing with wasn’t just emotional—it was also biological. My body wasn’t producing enough serotonin, and my chronic illnesses, were compounding these mental health struggles by denying my body the tools to make its own serotonin and through the weight of the symptoms. Especially for a while before there was any answer or treatment plan in sight.

I went through EMDR therapy, talk therapy, and put in the hard work to heal. I focused on my physical and mental health, fighting for answers and for my life. Slowly, I began to reclaim control. I started to recognize the warning signs of passive suicidal ideation and created an action plan for when those thoughts creep in. I don’t go to therapy as often now, but I still have touch-base appointments in case something changes.

Through this journey, I’ve learned so much about myself and the nature of mental illness. Depression, anxiety, and PTSD were not signs that I was lazy or difficult, though I was often labeled as such. They were symptoms of a much deeper issue. I wish people could see that depression isn’t a mindset or mood and suicidal thoughts are not selfish—they are the final, fatal symptom of a disease.

It took a long time for me to accept that what I went through wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t to blame for the trauma I endured or the way my brain and body responded to it. And if you’re reading this and find yourself in a dark place, I want you to know you are not alone. I know what it’s like to stand in the darkness for so long that it starts to feel like home. But I also know that it is possible to fight back, to heal, and to find hope again.

If you can’t fight for yourself right now, I encourage you to reach out to someone—anyone—who can sit with you in your pain. Let them help you find a therapist, a doctor, or simply help with daily tasks. It might not be the person you expect. For me, one if my company leaders had noticed my depression and helped me find a therapist. I had a best friend who sat with me over the phone while I sobbed broken hearted, encouraging me to seek help if I needed it. That going to the hospital if I needed it wasn’t shameful or weak but brave and admirable. It was my grandmother, who spoke to me daily, reminding me of my faith and offering love when I couldn’t love myself and felt those I loved most didn’t love me.

Faith also played a huge role in my healing. I’ve had my share of questions and anger, but my belief that God could handle my questions and my rage helped me through some of the darkest times. I questioned why my life was going the way it was, why I was feeling the way I did, if He knows everything before it happens, if he’s all powerful why didn’t he step in to change the course of my life away from this. My questions turned to anger and I had to keep reminding myself that God had shoulders big enough for my anger, my tears, my pain. That I could toss all of it at him and he’d still see me still, love me. I never doubted his existence, and honestly to this day I still don’t have all the answers but I’m sure one day I’ll understand and I’ve realized I was still loved even when I couldn’t see it.

My family eventually came around too. Even my dad, who I had thought didn’t believe me, recently admitted how scared he had been for me after he had kept his fears hidden for years since it had gotten bad. We were able to talk and he listened, shared his point of view, and made the effort to understand. He allowed me to assure him I was safe now, I was doing better, and it’s changed our relationship for the better. While I had found my way to stability without knowing if my family believed or supported me, learning my family did care enough to worry, cared enough to learn, and loved me enough to listen even if what I said was hard to hear meant the world to me.

If you’re struggling, know that there is help out there. Call 988 for support, reach out to friends, hug your dog or cat, cling to your faith—whatever gets you through the next moment. Each day is a step, and that’s enough. It doesn’t have to be a leap—it just has to be forward.

Resources for support below:

Here are some coping strategies:

1. Box Breathing: This simple technique can help reduce anxiety. Breathe in for four counts, hold for four, exhale for four, and pause for four. Repeat until your heart rate slows and you feel more grounded. You can do this while on a video call too just let your eyes glide along the edges of the screen while you hold and breathe.

2. Straw Breathing: Another great calming tool—take a deep breath in, and then slowly exhale like you’re blowing through a straw. It mimics the relaxing response of the parasympathetic nervous system and helps you focus.

3. Journaling: I started journaling, reminding myself it didn’t have to be perfect. It was just for me. I stopped feeling guilty if I skipped days or weeks and let the words flow when I needed them. If you struggle with journaling, try creating an anonymous blog where you can rant and vent without worrying about dates or continuity. I have a separate Tumblr just for this—a void I can yell into when I need to.

4. Bilateral Stimulation: Butterfly taps—crossing your arms and tapping on opposite shoulders—helped calm me during moments of stress. This was especially useful during EMDR therapy, which became one of my strongest tools.

5. Creating a Routine: I used to go to the gym to cope before my chronic illness made it harder, so I shifted to art as a form of expression. Creating anything—whether it’s a routine or a creative outlet—can make a difference.

6. Boundaries and Emotions: Learning boundaries and reconnecting with my emotions was vital. One book that really changed my perspective was Rage Becomes Her by Soraya Chemaly, which helped me embrace my anger as a valid emotion. Learn how to advocate for yourself and establish boundaries. This takes time, but it’s one of the most empowering things you can do for your mental health.

7. Prioritize Yourself: Make time for what you need—therapy, the gym, a bath, or a doctor’s appointment. And allow yourself to rest. Your mind and body will force you to stop if you keep ignoring the warning signs.

8. Taking Shortcuts: Too tired to make a proper meal? That’s okay. Eat food however it comes—deconstructed meals are all the rage anyway. I’ve had moments where lunch was just handfuls of cheese and lunch meat. The goal is to nourish yourself, and sometimes that means being kind to yourself about how you do it.

10. Create Safety Nets: If you're heading somewhere that could be triggering, plan for it. What’s your exit strategy? Can you bring a comfort item, like a fidget toy, a blanket, or a stuffed animal? Having a plan can give you a sense of control.

11. Redirecting Negative Thoughts: When I get caught in negative thoughts, I ask myself if these thoughts are helping me process emotions or if they're just hurting me. If I’m not ready to process them, I work on redirecting my focus to something more helpful.

13. Emotional Support Animals: If you can, get an emotional support animal. My mini schnauzer has helped me through so much, even though she doesn’t know it.

How can I help a loved one:

1. Listen First: Before jumping to solutions, take time to listen. Validate the person's feelings, and let them process before suggesting how to fix things. Most of the time, they already know the solution; they just need space to work through it.

2. Stop Shaming Mental Health: Be mindful of how you talk about mental health. I’ve overheard loved ones shaming people for being "selfish" or "foolish" for being depressed, anxious, suicidal and even those that did commit suicide not knowing how often it was on my mind. Those words made it even harder to speak up and ask for help.

3. Fear and Guilt Are Not Helpful Tools: Fear and guilt are not effective motivators when it comes to mental health. I once told someone close to me that I didn’t believe people who commit suicide go to hell. Just as someone who passes from cancer doesn’t go to hell for how they died, I believe the same for depression—it’s an illness. They responded that they hoped fear of hell would keep me from acting on those thoughts. I explained that, by the time someone is ready to act, they likely don’t care anymore. The weight of the pain is overwhelming, and fear or guilt won’t pull them back.

4. Recognize the Signs: Suicidal ideation, passive suicidal ideation, and suicidal plans are all dangerous and need treatment and support. It may begin with passive thoughts like, “I wouldn’t mind if I didn’t wake up tomorrow,” but those can shift into active planning if left unchecked. Just because someone hasn’t acted on it doesn’t mean they don’t need help. Depression doesn't always look the same for everyone. It could be messy rooms, low energy, or a lack of interest in things that once brought joy. It could also look like reckless behavior, withdrawing, or joking about death. These subtle signs shouldn’t be brushed off—they’re as important as overt cries for help and worth a check as little as “hey you keep making these jokes, I just want to make sure you really are okay?” If someone is talking about feeling hopeless, giving away possessions, withdrawing from loved ones, or engaging in risky behavior, these are red flags.

5. Offer practical support: Whether it’s helping with daily tasks, providing a ride to a therapy appointment, or just sitting quietly with them, practical support can be a lifeline.

6: Encourage professional help: Gently suggest therapy, medical care, or other professional help if the person hasn’t already sought it. Be patient and compassionate, understanding that reaching out can be terrifying for them.

7. Be present: Sometimes the best thing you can do is just be there. Your physical and emotional presence can provide comfort, even when there are no words.

If you have a loved one who you worry is going through something, or has confided in you and you are worried for them. Don’t wait. Speak to them. Ask them how you can help, what’s going on, listen. If you’re afraid for them, even after they have gotten to the other side, don’t let your fears tear at you for months, tell them then listen and trust that when they say they are good, have come out the other side have an action plan for when they notice the signs - belive them. If you can’t let it go still, seek your own support. The fear of loosing someone you care about is worthy of attention. If you’re reading this because someone you love is struggling with suicidal thoughts, thank you for caring. Supporting someone with suicidal ideation can be incredibly difficult, but your presence matters more than you might realize.

If you or someone you love is struggling, find Resources for Support:

1. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: Dial 988 for immediate help in the U.S. Available 24/7.

2. Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741 to connect with a trained crisis counselor.

3. The Trevor Project: Focused on supporting LGBTQ+ youth, The Trevor Project offers crisis intervention and suicide prevention services. Text START to 678678 or visit their website.

4. NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness): NAMI provides free, confidential support for mental health concerns. Call the NAMI Helpline at 1-800-950-NAMI or text NAMI to 741741.

5. The Jed Foundation: Focused on mental health support for teens and young adults, the Jed Foundation works to protect emotional health and prevent suicide. Visit jedfoundation.org for more information.

6. The Veterans Crisis Line: Veterans and their loved ones can call 988 and press 1 or text 838255 for confidential support. Available 24/7.

Suggestions for Keeping Yourself Safe:

1. Create a safety plan: Write down a plan for when suicidal thoughts occur. This could include calling a trusted friend, therapist, family, distracting yourself with an activity you enjoy, or going to a safe place where you can feel grounded and making an appointment with your doctor.

2. Reach out to a support network: Whether it’s friends, family, or a therapist, let someone know how you’re feeling. It’s important not to isolate yourself when you’re struggling.

3. Remove means: If you’re feeling unsafe, remove items that could be harmful or ask someone you trust to hold onto them temporarily. There is no shame in this ever.

4. Practice grounding techniques: When suicidal thoughts take over, try grounding yourself with techniques like deep breathing, focusing on your senses, or engaging in mindfulness exercises. These can help bring you back to the present moment. Call on your faith if you need to to get by, play with your pet anything to help you get grounded and move through the feeling

5. Remember that feelings pass: In the heat of the moment, it can feel like the pain will last forever. But emotions are temporary, and feelings—even the darkest ones—eventually pass. That feelings are normal and natural and have no moral judgement, feel it, acknowledge it, and let it move through knowing another feeling will come your way take its place.

Recovery isn’t pretty, and life isn’t perfect; but you are worth fighting for.

[nemapaincare]

Best Physiotheraphy Clinic | Nema Pain Care

At Nema Pain Care, we offer the Best Physiotherapy Clinic equipped with state-of-the-art rehabilitation technology to treat post-surgical recovery, sports injuries, musculoskeletal disorders, and chronic pain conditions. Our team of expert physiotherapists uses manual therapy, electrotherapy, therapeutic exercises, and movement training to help patients regain strength, flexibility, and pain-free movement.

[avnasace]

self care is NOT rewatching the whole of jujutsu kaisen just to feel something.

[unfinishedslurs]

Jonathan Byers This Is An Intervention

“You’re not happy here.”

Jonathan looks up, startled. Will stands in the doorway with his arms crossed. They’re alone in the house, El hanging out with Max and their mom on a date with Hopper. They had to practically shove her out the door before she’d leave, rambling a list of phone numbers and where to find them, as well as reminding them where the leftovers were. 

“We know, Mom,” he and Will had chorused, and permitted her to pull them down for one last kiss on the cheek before closing the door on her. Hopper just watched in amusement. 

He and Will had eaten dinner before separating to work on their projects, Will with a dnd campaign idea and Jonathan cleaning his camera out. It has more dust than it should, having been sitting in his closet unused for too long. It makes something in him ache, but he can’t make himself pick it up again. There’s something blocking him. 

“What?” 

“You’re not happy here,” Will repeats. “In Hawkins.”

“It’s Hawkins,” he points out. Being unhappy is a given. He’s always known it sucks here, from the way people treated his mom to the rumors that always flew around when he made his way through the halls. The way they’ve treated Will. He hated this town long before interdimensional monsters factored in. 

Will’s frown gets deeper. “I’m happy,” he points out. “Mom’s happy. El and Hopper are happy. We actually have friends here.”

“I have friends,” Jonathan protests, slightly offended. He and Argyle call multiple times a week. He and Nancy are still good friends, and Steve and Robin are slowly growing on him. In a surprising turn of events, Eddie is the person his age he talks to the least, but it makes sense when he thinks about it. Eddie’s brand of freak has always been loud and dramatic, half relying on shock value. Jonathan prefers the quiet. 

“When was the last time you actually hung out with someone that wasn’t me?”

Is that what this is about? Something in his heart sinks at the idea that Will doesn’t think he’s enough. “I like hanging out with you. You’re the coolest person I know,” he says, shifting over and patting the bed next to him. 

Will sits down with a huff that sounds very fifteen-year-old of him. He’s glad he’s getting to be a kid. “You’re not listening to me,” he complains. 

“Then what are you trying to say?”

Will won’t meet his eye, suddenly nervous. “Everyone your age here is leaving,” he says quietly. “Nancy is going to Emerson soon, Steve and Robin are going to Chicago, and Eddie…uh, I don’t know his plans, exactly, he might be going with them. He’s not staying here, anyway. And Argyle is on the other side of the country. So all the people you’re friends with are leaving.”

“They are,” he agrees, laying what he hopes is a soothing hand on Will’s shoulder, “but you know I’m not leaving you, right? I’m not leaving you and Mom.”

Will squeezes his eyes shut. “Maybe you should.”

It feels like ice water being poured over his head. 

Something in his stomach twists uncomfortably at the idea of calling Hopper his dad. He doesn’t know if he’s ever going to. He doesn’t even know if Hopper would want him to. But “dad” is always a word he’s associated with bruises and yelling, the stink of whiskey and a gun in his small, shaking hands. Jim Hopper, with his gruff, fumbling way affection and sweet smiles at his daughter will never fit his version of the word. 

“You’re not my dad,” Will says. “You’re my older brother, you should be my brother. You should be moving away and going to college and living your life! You shouldn’t be stuck here because of me.” He seems near tears now, and Jonathan flounders. He’s always been pretty good at making Will feel better, but now it’s different. Now it’s him making his little brother upset.

Will takes a deep, stabilizing breath.

“You’re not my dad,” he says again. “You shouldn’t have to be my dad.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” he says weakly.

“You’re doing a better job than he ever did.”

“Okay, then how should we start?”

“You could tell me why we’re always running out of tylenol.”

He didn’t even realize anyone noticed that. He’s been replacing it before it was even empty.

The words stick in his throat, reluctant to come out. But he promised. He promised he’d tell him, and he hates to break a promise to Will.

“It’s my back,” he admits. “My boss hit me with a chair, and it hurts all the time now. I used to smoke it away, but…”

He smoked a little too much. He was too reliant on it. He was being neglectful. The reasons stay on the tip of his tongue, unable to admit his shortcomings. 

Unfortunately, Will takes it another way. “You stopped because of me.”

“No!” 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Or Mom? We can go to the doctor now, we have insurance.”

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you go? Why can’t you just take care of yourself?”

“It’s just a little back pain,” he defends, “it’s not a big deal.”

It’s really not. It’s practically nothing compared to what some of their friends ended up with. Will has respiratory problems, Eddie uses a cane now, Max is in a wheelchair and her eyes might never work again. Not to mention Steve’s mix of migraines, glasses, hearing loss, and scars he’s accumulated over the years that put Jonathan’s to shame. His issues pale in comparison.

“It is when you take as many painkillers as you do! You’re going to eat holes in your stomach.”

“If I get an ulcer, it’ll be because I know there’s another world out there full of things that want to kill us,” he says, poking Will in the stomach. He giggles, and then looks mad about it. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you actually happy. I feel like it’s my fault.”

What does he say to that? It can’t be your fault, because I don’t remember the last time I was happy like that? I felt like this long before you went missing? Anything he says will make him worry more. 

“It’s not your fault,” he finally settles on. 

“But if I hadn’t disappeared—“

“I would still feel like this,” he says, because he has to. He can’t stand the idea of Will thinking it’s his fault when the truth is that something has been wrong with Jonathan for a long, long time. “It’s not because of the Upside-Down, bud. It’s not something you can fix. I’m pretty sure I’m just…like this.”

He’s had moments of happiness, obviously. Sometimes he’ll get days, or even weeks, where he genuinely looks forward to the future. When he was in California with Argyle, he felt even better. But eventually, the heaviness in his chest always comes back. It’s just something he knows how to live with now. 

Will sits up, glaring at him. “That’s bullshit!”

“It’s just how it is.”

He squares his shoulders, a telltale sign that Jonathan isn’t going to like whatever he says next. “Mom and I think you should see a therapist.”

Jonathan really doesn’t like that. “You’ve been talking to Mom about this?”

“She’s worried about you!”

“She shouldn’t be!” He’s almost offended. He’s been taking care of himself for years. He was taking care of her for years. “I’m fine! I know how to live with it!” 

“I haven’t seen you smile for real in two months!”

“I’m fine!” He snaps again, and immediately regrets it. Will’s lower lip trembles. 

“You’re not fine,” he says. “You’re not. Don’t lie to me, Jonathan. You just said you weren’t going to lie to me.”

[cosmos-fudge]

g morning

[meat-loving-meat]

Trying to make Vanyel and Staven’s relationship as unhinged and weird as possible

[moonleet]

miya's entire body has experienced significant nerve damage, but it's most debilitating in his hands. as acute as his magical ability is, he can't really compensate for it - and, when the party's not in the middle of a life or death situation, he doesn't really want to. it's a lot of energy to expend where he can instead help out with the tasks he's capable of, and people more dextrous can dice the onions or whatever.

all said, he's the go-to mama-in-camp whenever a little one wants their hair styled. he knows all kinds of braids and twists, and he's got an eye for precision. it takes him much longer to plait shadowheart's hair or braid down wyll than many, but he also just Does It Better than anyone else in their camp.

he enjoys it - reaching his own hair and consequently lifting his arms above his shoulders is too much after a long day of fighting for their lives, but perching above them on a stool while they sit on the ground doesn't hurt at all.

and he's a very good listener. lae'zel and shadowheart both prefer the comfortable silence, maybe drawing or reading while miya does their hair. karlach and wyll are much more chatty. gale once sat down to try it, but couldn't stand the feeling of hands in his hair - he still ended up rambling to miya about his research pre-nautiloid for an hour, though.

sometimes one of the regressed kiddos gets it in their head to return the favor. miya isn't usually a patient person, but he'll grit his teeth and deal. shadowheart is actually pretty good at both styling and being gentle about it. she really enjoys making them twin. everyone else... not so much. miya's ended up with a lot of crazy hairstyles on their rare nights off. but he'll keep them in until it's time to sleep.

[schakira]

.

[cmweller]

Challenge #04367-K349: Too Cold to Hurt

The one thing about being too cold is that, when you're badly hurt, and your crewmates are trying hard to get you to safety, and get you help, it's not so bad. One the cold numbs the pain a bit and two, it slows down your system, giving them more time. At least you know... you may just make it this time. -- Anon Guest

Cold... hurts. It aches the muscles and creeps into bones. Grinding joints along the way. Thing is... that doesn't quite hurt as much as -say- a close to fatal wound.

Humans can survive a lot of things that would kill a lot of cogniscents. Babies and children can survive drowning in icy water so long as they're resuscitated while they're still being warmed up. Adult Humans... have better odds if they're just cold. Not frozen. Just... too cold to shiver.

Which is, in itself, pretty close to dying.

[Check the source for the rest of the story]