#ringworm how to treat

[neodermatologist23]

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[digitalm45]

ringworm how to treat at home

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[californiaquail]

we should really call it something besides ringworm i had a lady today who was convinced nexgard combo treated ringworm this is unsustainable.

[bernese-mountain-dyke]

I love my job and I love the work I do and I hope to get better and learn more as I advance in my career. That being said. I fucking hate this insdustry so much why is being treated like shit the one standard we have across the board, all I’m asking for is a lunch break

[theprissythumbelina]

Feeling super vindicated today because I had a weird rash on my arm and went to the doctor about it. Doctor says "It's ringworm, do this." and I'm like "It's not ringworm, I work with animals, you think I don't know what ringworm looks like?"

They give me treatment for ringworm, it gets worse, I go back, a different doctor goes "I still think its ringworm" and I'm like "It's not ringworm, can I please get treatment for the thing I think it is and not more of the stuff that made it worse?"

And this doctor goes "Ok, fine. Let's give you some really strong anti-histamine cream. Also here's ringworm treatment if that doesn't work because it's ringworm."

Guess what. It was an allergic reaction. It's almost like I know what ringworm looks like.

[pwurrz]

anyways it’s funny how new coworkers who are older than you automatically think they need to show you the ropes like. i’ve been working here for 2 years mark i think i’ll be fine

[caraphernellie]

𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞.

tiny, silly, cute blurb today because i'm thinking fluffy!!! and fluffy in particular = cats! i love cats and ik i'm always talking about cats so… in the need to quell my desperation right now, i'm going to write about it instead. because i keep looking at cat rescue pages and crying about all those precious babies.

now it's a little hard to picture ellie having a dog because, erm… but moving away from that– i think she's one of those people who prefers dogs simply because they're playful and have such wholesome faces. who wouldn't falter over a puppy's virtuous little smile, falling over feet to give them some head pats? but imagine her reaction when you tell her you want to rescue a cat. imagine the vulgarity in her response every time you'd show her pictures upon pictures of sad babies with no homes – just a snap back to reality. "yeah, babe, s'cute, but probably got ringworm or some shit."

 and yeah, sure, all of your arguments are sound, your list of pros outway the cons, but cats are so lame. lame is what she said.

and lame is what she is, because the furry creature does win her heart fairly quickly. almost as soon as you showed her the picture of this poor unnamed cat without a family, desperate tears in your eyes just waiting to shed at her denial, she folded.

on one condition.

"if we get the cat, i wanna name him."

so much for 'not wanting a cat', it was obvious from the start that your new baby had dug his way into ellie and tugged at the heartstrings. so that was how rover became yours– never trust your girl not to name something unrelated to her interests – but rover was a cute and fitting name overall, if only a tad nerdy due to her ongoing obsession with space and the long lost dream of being an astronaut. 

but there seems to be such a common phenomenon when it comes to cats. they know exactly who doesn't like them, and they make it their mission to insert themselves every which way like stubborn bastards. rover is a smart little man, and he was aware quickly of how awkward ellie got when he'd sit on you or knead on you. it progressed into him treading into the bedroom at five o'clock sharp every morning to wake his mothers up, pushing his way between you and ellie to enjoy the warmth of your cuddles.

from that point, he started getting bolder, jumping onto ellie's lap when she was always busy. he'd nuzzle up against the controller while she's gaming and she'd scoff quietly, clumsily moving to see the screen over his body. then his tail would swipe her across the nose and she'd groan, "you're a little dick."

even then– the words are coated in affection, softly spoken and accompanied by her pausing of the game to rub her hand over his sandy coloured fur.

there's also many, many times in which he appealed to her in humour. it can be utterly amusing at the least and hilarious at most when a feline is taken over by the zoomies. watching the usually collected and calm cat sprint at top speeds and leap dangerously across the room never failed in its manner to bring ellie to laughter.

so yeah, there's a growing attachment to rover bubbling under ellie's surface, and she's never really sure what to do about it. admit that she was wrong about hating cats? she admits so with her every action, making a stop at the store on her way home from work to bring a new cat toy or bag of treats she's desperate to give him. maybe it's in the way she lets him settle on her lap and feels a rush of warmth and love. maybe it's that her lock screen is now a picture of you carrying the cat over your shoulder like a newborn.

photomode creds to @/seraqhite on pinterest!!

[munson-blurbs]

Hello! Could I possibly request something with a lovesick Eddie trying to win over the reader? He’s watched and studied rom-coms with Dustin to get his plan in action doing the basics of walking her to class, carrying her books, complimenting her, etc. but it typically ends with him inadvertently embarrassing himself. Super fluffy ending though!

This is adorable and I loved writing it <3

Warnings: angst-to-fluff, some language, spoilers for 80s movies

WC: 2.4k

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

“You coming to Hellfire today?” Eddie asks you, munching on a pretzel. You weren’t an official member, but you like sitting in and watching campaigns, sometimes secretly helping the freshmen defeat their sadistic Dungeon Master.

You shake your head. “Sorry, Eds,” you shrug apologetically, “Robin, Nancy, and I are gonna catch a movie.”

His eyes widen and he grins excitedly. “Oh, shit! Which one? Eliminators?”

The prospect of the three of you watching an over-the-top sci-fi movie–without Eddie or Dustin nagging you–sends you into a fit of laughter. “Uh, no,” you manage between giggles. “We’re seeing Pretty in Pink.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Isn’t that, like, a chick flick?”

“Yes, and we are chicks,” you say slowly, enunciating each word like it’s a novel concept for him. “Why, did you wanna join?”

Eddie would watch paint dry if it meant spending time with you, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, he rolls his eyes. “Not a chance,” he scoffs. “You girls enjoy your Molly Ringworm.”

“It’s Ringwald, dingus,” you retort, borrowing Robin’s favorite insult for the occasion. “And we will. It’s nice to pretend that guys can actually care about a girl beyond getting in her pants.”

He’s about to ask you if you lump him into that category when Dustin, Lucas, and Mike plop their trays onto the table. They’re chatting excitedly about the upcoming campaign, a conversation Eddie usually never shuts up about, but the older boy is uncharacteristically quiet.

“Hey, Y/N,” Nancy taps you on the shoulder with a smile. “Robs and I were just about to finalize our plans for tonight, if you wanna sit with us.”

You nod enthusiastically, eager to leave the table now that the topic has switched to which cheerleaders are the easiest. “See you perverts on Monday!” you call out behind you, walking side by side with Nancy.

“Hey, sheep,” Eddie interrupts their riveting conversation suddenly. “Do I give off ‘douchebag’ vibes? Like, ‘only being nice to chicks for sex’ vibes?”

“If you are, it’s not working very well,” Mike snorts, only to have a pretzel lobbed at his head. 

Dustin, however, is more perceptive to Eddie’s concerns. “Did something happen with Y/N?” he asks, glancing over at you.

“Don’t stare at her!” Eddie hisses, pressing his fingers over his eyes in exasperation. How do these two have girlfriends and I don’t? he wonders silently. “She mentioned something about liking chick flicks because that’s the only time guys treat girls nicely without trying to sleep with them.”

“Okay, and…?” Mike responds, earning him another pretzel to the head. This one lands in his mop of hair. 

“And, what if she thinks that’s the only reason I’m nice to her?”

“To be fair,” Lucas pipes up between bites of pizza, “you do wanna sleep with her.” He quickly joins Mike as one of Eddie’s snack throwing targets. “Dude, you’re not gonna have any pretzels left if you keep chucking them at us!”

“Can someone just answer my question?” Eddie growls, standing up and pacing around the table. “Because if I’m gonna ask her out–”

“Not gonna happen,” Dustin mumbles under his breath. Eddie glares at him. “What? You’ve been saying that you’re gonna ask her out for ages now, but you never do!”

“Well, now I’m not, if she thinks I’m just some creep,” the metalhead grumbles. “I’d have to be one of those corny idiots from those movies for her to take me seriously.”

Dustin slams his hands on the table, startling everyone. “So be one of those corny idiots!” he exclaims. “Do you think I wanna sing The Neverending Story every time I talk to Suzie? No, I do not. But I do it because it makes her feel special and loved.”

“How would I even do that?” Eddie throws his hands up in frustration. “I’ve never watched any of those dumb movies.”

Dustin’s grin spans his entire face. “Oh, don’t you worry, my friend,” he says. “I’ve got a secret weapon.”

Turns out, Dustin’s secret weapon is Steve Harrington. More specifically, using him to check out as many romantic comedies as the boy can carry, completely ignoring the three movie maximum policy.

“Okay,” Dustin begins, pushing his way into Eddie’s trailer. “We’ve got The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, Footloose, Terms of Endearment, and Y/N’s favorite, Grease.” He plops the video cassettes onto the table with a thwack.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie buries his head in his hands. “What did I get myself into?”

“You can thank me later when you finally have a girlfriend,” Dustin retorts, ignoring his friend’s mild irritation. “Now, where should we start?”

By Monday morning, Eddie’s brain is buzzing with ideas to be the perfect rom-com boyfriend. He waits for you at your locker before first period, leaning up against it as you approach.

“How was your movie night with the girls?” He remembers Dustin’s advice to ask you questions about yourself, rather than launching into another story about his DnD campaigns.

“Good…” You eye him suspiciously. “Is there a reason why you’re blocking me from opening my locker?”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he sputters, jumping back and smacking into another student passing by. “Son of a–”

You grab your math textbook from the top shelf, rolling your eyes at his antics. “Well, nice talking to you.” You’re not sure what’s gotten into him, but it’s weirding you out.

“Wait!” he calls out, and you turn back around slowly.

“What is it?” you ask crossly, “I’m gonna be late for class.”

Eddie rubs the nape of his neck with his palm, unable to make eye contact with you. “Jus’ wanted to say that you’re pretty…” When you don’t reply within a nanosecond, he starts stumbling over his words. “Pretty nice, and stuff. No, just pretty. You’re pretty. N-not that you’re not nice, b’cause you are; you’re, like, really nice. But you’re also pretty. So, yeah. You’re pretty.”

Your brows furrow in confusion. “Are you okay?” What you really want to ask is, is this some kind of prank?

Eddie nods, fidgeting with the frayed edges of his denim jacket. “Y-yeah, I’m okay. Are you, uh, okay?”

“Mhmmm,” you stretch out your response, backing away. “I’m gonna head to math before I get detention.”

What the hell was that? You wonder incredulously. The only time you’ve ever witnessed him being so tongue-tied was when he was paired with Chrissy Cunningham on a science project. But he was hopelessly in love with her; you were just his best friend. You’d have to ask one of the Hellfire freshmen what was going on. Maybe they’d have some insight.

You don’t get a chance to talk to Dustin, Mike, or Lucas before Eddie’s trying out his next move. He’s at your locker again between third and fourth period, desperate to redeem himself after his flustered performance this morning.

“Lemme walk you to class,” he blurts out. 

“Eddie,” you laugh, “we have the same class now. You’d know this if you bothered to show up.”

“Oh. Right.” Actually, he has been showing up, partially because of his determination to graduate, but mostly because you’re there. “Then, can I carry your books for you?” He reaches for your composition book and pencil case before you have the chance to answer, and you pull away from him.

“Are you gonna throw my stuff in the trash or something?” You warily cock your eyebrow. 

“No!” He seems genuinely confused and slightly offended at your assumption. “Why would I do that?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. “Why else would you do nice things for me?”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest. “So that’s what you think of me, huh?” His eyes mist over, so angry that he’s about to cry. “Just another dumb guy who’s either trying to fuck you or fuck you over?”

“What are you talk—“ you start, but he cuts you off. 

“Forget it,” he mutters under his breath, walking in the opposite direction. “Told Henderson this was a stupid idea.”

“Where are you going?” you call after him. “Class is the other way.”

“‘M ditching!” Eddie retorts, pulling out a cigarette and lighting in before he even reaches the doors. 

You’re sitting in your room, highlighting and writing in the margins of the tattered copy of The Grapes of Wrath you’ve been assigned for English class. You can barely concentrate, though; your mind is consumed with thoughts of Eddie’s string of bizarre behavior. 

The compliments, offering to walk you to class, trying to carry your books—what was that all about? 

You vaguely remember him mentioning something about Dustin; the two of them were thick as thieves and basically attached at the hip. Eddie was the older brother Dustin never had. If anyone knows what was going on with him, it’s Dustin Henderson. 

“Hello?” Dustin’s bored voice comes through the receiver, probably expecting the call to be for his mom. 

“Hey, Dustin. It’s Y/N,” you begin nervously. “Do you have a sec to talk about Eddie?”

“Um, yeah,” he replies, caution evident in his tone. “He seemed really upset at lunch today. Did something happen?”

You exhale, a bitter laugh escaping your chest. “That’s what I was calling about. He was being super weird this morning, and then he got mad at me, like, out of nowhere.”

“Weird…how?”

Starting at the beginning, you recall everything that occurred, emphasizing the babbling that was supposed to constitute a compliment and his explosion when you didn’t let him hold your books. “He’s always playing little jokes on me; what was I supposed to think?” you finish. 

“Aw, shit,” Dustin muses. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but—“

“Please,” you beg him, “I just need to know what I did wrong.”

“No, it’s not something you did—well, maybe, kinda—but not on purpose,” he explains. “On Friday, when you told him about seeing Pretty in Pink, did you say something about guys in chick flicks being better than actual guys because they want more than just sex?”

“Yeah…” you say, confused. “What does this have to do with Eddie?”

“I’m getting to that part, jeez!” Dustin quips, and you roll your eyes at his attitude. “Well, when you said that, Eddie got all worried that you felt that way about him.”

“Of course I don’t!” you reply incredulously. “He’s…he’s Eddie! I know he would never use me for sex.”

Dustin presses on. “He didn’t realize that. So we watched those stupid movies all weekend, just so he could learn how you want a guy to show interest in you.”

Oh. Oh. 

“Because Eddie…” you trail off, your mouth going dry. 

“Yeah, the dude’s, like, in love with you.” Dustin spells it out. “He tries to act like nothing bothers him, but he really cares about what you think of him.”

“Shit,” you murmur. “I mean, thanks, Dustin. I’m gonna go fix this.”

“Any time,” he replies, then quickly adds, “don’t tell him I told you, or he’ll give me wedgies for the rest of my life!”

You knock on the Munson trailer door. Wayne’s already left for his night shift at the plant, and you hear the sounds of Eddie’s guitar, so you know he’s home. 

“Who is it?” he calls from his room, still strumming. 

“It’s me,” you answer, hoping he’ll let you in. “And I come bearing gifts.”

The guitar playing stops, and you breathe a sigh of relief when his heavy footsteps come closer. 

“‘S not my birthday,” he narrows his eyes at the treat in your hand. 

“I know. I wanted to recreate the ending scene in Sixteen Candles where Jake Ryan goes over to Sam’s house, but a whole cake was too expensive.” You smile warmly at him. “I hope a cupcake will suffice.”

Eddie returns your grin, leaning against the doorframe. “Depends. What flavor is it?”

“Chocolate cake, chocolate frosting.” It’s his favorite; the man has a mean sweet tooth. “Eddie, I’m sorry that I accused you of having some sort of ulterior motive for being nice to me. But when I said that stuff on Friday—about guys using girls—I wasn’t talking about you,” you tell him. “I was thinking about the Jason Carvers of the world, not the Eddie Munsons.”

He takes a big bite of cupcake. “Apology accepted,” he says, mouth still full. He swallows before speaking again. “How did you know that’s why I was upset?”

“Psychic powers,” you tease. “And a certain meddling, curly-haired nerd who just wants you to be happy.”

“Dammit, Henderson!” Eddie groans. “Little shit can never keep a secret—“

You interrupt him, pressing your lips to his chocolate-covered ones. The kiss doesn’t last long because the two of you can’t stop smiling. 

“That’s for calling me pretty,” you tell him. “At least, I think that’s what you said; you kinda rambled on there for awhile.”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to cut you off. “Then let me make it clear,” he says softly, running his thumb over your jawline. “Pretty, pretty, pretty. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He places a kiss on your forehead, and you feel yourself melt. 

“No more trying to be some corny movie character,” you instruct him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I like you just as you are, Eddie Munson.”

He laughs. “Got it, boss.” He twitches his nose. “Actually, there’s one more thing I wanted to do.” When you look at him quizzically, he continues. “You know that part in The Breakfast Club, where Bender gives Claire his earring?”

“Yeah?”

“Well,” Eddie says shyly, “I don’t have an earring, but I do have this.”  He pulls his thin black ring off of his finger and holds it up. “Prob’ly be too big on you, but maybe you could wear it on a chain? And you could be my girlfriend, if you want?”

You press on your tiptoes, pecking another kiss on his lips. “Yes, Eds. To both questions.” 

He throws his fist in the air á la Judd Nelson as he kisses you back, making you cackle with laughter. 

“I can’t believe you actually watched that movie,” you tease. 

He shakes his head, as though he can’t believe it himself. “‘S all right,” he says. “You can make it up to me by seeing Eliminators on our first date.”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

~

[ladyorlandodream]

Revenge is a dish best served cold, huh? Well, we all know how the church treated Barbara (remember that incident with the choir?). So what does our girl do as soon as she catches ringworm? She grabs her coat and goes on a mission—to infect everyone.

YES queen!

[scoops-aboy86]

The foster kittens have been surrendered to a shelter with a dedicated ringworm ward, where they’ll have a whole medical team making sure they get healthy.

It’s such a relief that I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Tomorrow we buy disposable gloves to go with the booties, scrub pants, and copious amounts of bleach and 409…

And attempt to disinfect the entire house. Because fungus!! 🙃

The intake lady that made my partner cry yesterday by guilt tripping us for trying to surrender the kittens replied to my complaint email AND google review last night between 8 and 9pm, the email response containing a trauma dump of how awful her week has been. Very “tell me you only read the parts of my email that specifically referenced you without telling me you only read the parts of my email that specifically referenced you.”

Anyway, super professional after hours trauma dump on her part in response to assuming we were mad she wouldn’t take the kittens, when in fact it was that she fucking lectured us and made us feel like rotten filthy animal abandoners. Of all the places we called since Monday that’s the one time we were treated like that and I hope her choice to cc her board of directors got her at least some side-eye.

[neodermatologist23]

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[love-and-hisses]

Back in 2020, when we were fostering the Vittles litter, which was 15 kittens (not all related to each other - there were two sets of 5, two sets of 2, and one singleton, all put together in one crazy litter), they had ringworm. So not only was I treating them with medication, I also needed to clean the foster room so they wouldn't reinfect themselves. Every other day I'd put them all in one big crate so that I could mop the floor, and then I'd set them free (they were only in the crate for about 10 minutes while we waited for the floor to dry). Someone asked how on earth I got them in the crate, so I made this video. See? Easy! (HA.)

[yourlocalxenomorph3]

if you're the kind of person who thinks/says that certain species of insect/arthropod/"bug" need to be exterminated on the basis of their potential to spread disease, then i guess you should also advocate for extermination of cats (carriers and spreaders of rabies, toxoplasmosis, bartonella, etc), dogs (rabies, campylobacter, ringworm, etc), most livestock such as horses and cattle (rabies, encephalomyelitis, trichinella, etc), most rodents such as squirrels and prairie dogs (rabies, bubonic plague, hantavirus, leptospirosis, etc), most fish (mycobacterium, vibrio, salmonella, etc), most birds (salmonella, bird flu, psittacosis, etc), most reptiles (salmonella, serratia, e. coli, etc), and, wait for it...

humans (notorious carriers and spreaders of the common cold, influenza, covid, strep, herpes, measles, hepatitis, hiv, bubonic plague, ebola, pox, malaria, gonorrhea, chlamydia, whooping cough, syphilis, hpv, scabies, lice, rsv, staph and mrsa, ringworm, norovirus, etc).

humans are one of the biggest spreaders of disease, if not the biggest. you're probably more likely to receive an infection from another human than from an arthropod. does that mean we need to exterminate all humans? execute everyone who carries a transmissible disease? no? why not? you're obviously more concerned about the spread of disease than the effects of eradicating entire species, so what's the problem? well, if we can't kill people to stop diseases, then maybe we should target the diseases themselves instead of the carriers. we already know that we're capable of doing that; polio was more or less eradicated not by mass-killing everyone who carried it, but by developing a vaccine.

disease prevention starts with education. knowing how to avoid being infected is the first step. the next most important thing is humanitarian action and aid in places where transmissible diseases are common. access to medical care is vital, and we need to be working towards making care easily accessible worldwide. researching the diseases themselves is key, so that we can figure out the most effective ways to treat, cure, and protect against infections.

intentionally driving mosquitoes, ticks, and fleas to extinction is not the solution to the diseases they carry. they're not "evil" or "monsters" or "bastard villains" for carrying them. there is no active malice in the existence of these creatures or these diseases. nature is morally neutral.

[thoughtlessarse]

There's a potentially troubling fungal skin infection with a case detected in New York City to be aware of as we gather to celebrate Pride Month and the warm summer weather. According to experts, there's a new sexually transmittable strain of tinea, aka ringworm (often called "jock itch" when in the groin area). While tinea can be treated with standard ringworm treatment, it can take months to clear up, pausing your summer fun. Ringworm, often characterized by the ring-like rashes it causes on the skin, may be easy to spot, but this new variation doesn’t always appear as rings. This difference in appearance makes this newer strain less noticeable and easy to confuse with other skin issues, such as eczema. It must be said plainly that ringworm does not involve actual worms; the name comes from how the fungal infection forms a circle of red scaly skin, similar to a worm when it curls and touches end to end. Until recently, cases of this new tinea strain were more prevalent in Europe, with over a dozen cases reported last year in France. However, a case has been detected in the United States after a man returned from extensive travels and interactions, according to details published this week in the journal JAMA Dermatology.

continue reading

[prismatic-starstuff]

vent post about medical stuff, do feel free to skip over this one

so i have psoriasis. pretty considerable psoriasis; it's on A Lot of me. and that gets me down, because i know how some people can be about skin conditions, even when they're not contagious (not that it should matter, people deserve to be treated like people regardless, but. still. i know how people can be.)

but in the back of my mind, there's been a little. shadow, i guess. just a tiny little voice whispering 'psoriatic arthritis' now and again. which i tried not to think about a lot, because it's not a guarantee that everyone with psoriasis will get it.

but, uh. i had an agitated eye the other day and didn't really know why, wondered if it could be psoriasis-related because i have a patch really close to the area that felt agitated, so i looked it up.

turns out psoriatic arthritis can come with sporadic eye pains. and recurring conjunctivitis, which comes by now and then whenever it feels like it. stiffness, but i'm not sure if that's due to weight or inactivity or what, i am overweight for my height and very sedentary so who knows. changes in fingernails, though that can be attributed to the psoriasis itself.

apparently psoriatic arthritis can happen at any age, usually after someone's had psoriasis for years (which i have) but— apparently it's most likely to really hit around 30 to 40.

i just turned 26, and the conjunctivitis has been an on and off thing for like a year or two. so... i don't know. i'd need to speak to a doctor to know for certain; which i'm fucking dreading, because trying to get a hold of a doctor about anything is like pulling teeth, and my local practice is pretty fucking useless about this stuff. (they had me on a wild goose chase when i was like 18 because they misdiagnosed me with ringworm, and i was the one who had to do my own research and be like 'hey i think i have psoriasis,' and i was the one who had to straight up say 'hey i want a referral to a dermatologist to talk about treatment options' and chase that up because no doctor ever did it despite the fact it's the obvious fucking thing to do.)

so... it's a scary thought. if i'm already showing certain signs at 26, and have been for a few years, and it typically really kicks in around 30, then— yeah, i'm worried.

and i know there's ways to treat things and stop them from getting as bad as they could be and manage them. ...when you can actually get a hold of medical professionals, anyway.

but it's all so fucking much, and i'm tired and i'm upset and i'm worried. psoriasis is a fucking nightmare and it's so much worse than just a skin condition because it's literally a thing where you can't so much as accidentally scratch yourself without your body deciding to fuck itself up to overcompensate for the 'injury.' it makes me miserable because it's the kind of thing that people stare at; i could wear shorts in summer, sure, but only if i didn't mind people staring and grimacing and saying 'oh but isn't it sore? it looks sore.' (it's not, by the way. it's just itchy.)

and as if all the self-image shit from that isn't enough (bearing in mind it's on my face as well so it's not exactly easy to hide) now it looks like there's a very good chance it might fuck up my joints one day too.

...i don't have a poetic or satisfying way to end this post. i don't even have a point for making it. i've been fucked up since eight in the morning about this and no matter what i do i can't cheer up because that voice whispering 'psoriatic arthritis' is louder than ever and i hate my body and my body hates me, apparently.

that's all. if you made it through all this, thanks. ♡