#same for my a1c

[music-for-them-asses]

I've spent too much time worrying about my lab results. I've gotta get to bed and give this more thought after a full night's rest.

[phanfuckingtasmal]

glad to see absolutely nothing has changed about diabetes diagnoses in ER departments! (<- so sarcastic it could sweeten a coffee)

[scientia-rex]

I've been trying to figure out what the deal is with prediabetes so I can write a meaningful response to an ask I got about it, and I just keep going wait--okay--here's one paper--but here's another one--here's a Cochrane review--but here's a different meta-analysis--and here's newer data from an RCT...

It's nuts! It's bananas. And anybody who says we have good, crisp, clear guidelines around what prediabetes even IS, much less what to do about it, is FULL OF SHIT.

What I really need to know in order to feel more confident about my handle on whether to medicate pre-diabetes is the population incidence. Not prevalence. Because if I take the most optimistic studies about medication as an intervention, specifically, I could be looking at about a 30-40% reduction in risk of progression to diabetes. But! How many people is that, actually? Because medication is not without its harms! We need to compare number needed to treat with number needed to harm, we need to have high-quality evidence that says yes, if we give this medication to everyone who meets X level of criteria for pre-diabetes (it's different in different sources AND it's changed repeatedly over our lifetime!), we will see a level of benefit sufficient to justify making these other people who would not have progressed to diabetes without it endure the hassle and side effects of taking a medication for the rest of their lives.

AND HERE'S THE REAL FUN PART: we don't really know where tissue damage begins! We thought we did! 6.5-7ish A1c. But it turns out there is a marked risk of retinopathy beginning at 5.5! Which is considered normal. AND ALSO we should probably be thinking of it as at least three separate disease based on our current ability to measure--A1c is a broad marker that collapses multiple forms of dysregulated blood sugar, and when we use more fine-grained tests, we see meaningful distinctions that probably affect preferred treatments between people who have impaired fasting glucose, people who have abnormal values on an oral glucose tolerance test, and people who have both. We should treat these groups differently because they reflect different underlying pathways: elevated fasting glucose means your liver is breaking down too much glycogen while you sleep, which is one issue, while elevated post-prandial glucose means your skeletal muscles (OR SOMETHING ELSE they're not totally sure) are behaving abnormally in response to insulin. IT'S NOT THE SAME THING and people with both impaired fasting glucose and abnormal post-prandial glucose are at higher risk of progression to diabetes/tissue damage than people with just one of those. AND WHILE WE'RE AT IT, what is diabetes? What's the best cutoff? What's the best measure? How many underlying pathophysiologies are getting collapsed into the same group????

THE MORE I LEARN ABOUT THIS THE MORE QUESTIONS I HAVE and experts are all being serenely confident while contradicting each other so I have to actually dig in the data a lot harder than I usually do. I've been meaning to do this for months, but one of the presenters this morning made a comment about the benefits of putting prediabetics on metformin that made me go "hm, do I need to start doing that?" and I've gone from my kneejerk answer being "no, we studied this and it doesn't help" to "I don't fucking know and neither does anyone else."

...as always, Cochrane is probably right.

[blissfullyecho]

My Skinny Tips for the Holidays

If you’re in the US, Thanksgiving is this week and next month begins all the holiday parties and events for Christmas, Hanakkuh, Kawanzaa, and all other winter holidays that will include a ton of processed and sugary foods, seasonal coffee’s and fun drinks, and alcohol.

A note for the dieting police out there: Don’t even try it with me.

How I Manage the Holidays + My Body

So generally during November and December, I eat very clean (except for the holidays). I allow myself a Thanksgiving plate with everything (literally everything), dessert, sugary fun drinks/alcohol, and leftovers. This is the same thing I do with Christmas dinner as well. I don’t limit what I eat on the actual holidays, but the other days I do.

How I Eat on Non-Holiday Days

So like I said, I eat very clean in Nov and Dec because I know it’s going to get crazy on Thanksgiving and Christmas Day. So I stick to eating mostly vegetables, soup, and lean protein. I actually stop drinking smoothies this time because I’d rather eat my protein than drink it so I’m not feeling hungry so soon. I get hungry faster when I drink a smoothie than I do with actually eating, so I eat more (just sticking with veggies, soup, and lots of lean protein). I do cut back heavily on bread, rice, and pasta; but my main source of carbs comes from fruit, sweet potatoes, and corn (corn is carb-heavy). I also cut OUT added sugars. I read the label on everything. 0g of added sugar is what I get. Like I said, I still indulge on whatever I want during the actual holiday meal which are things loaded in sugar, so I cut back for the month. And for everyone saying “it’s restricting” … babe, respectfully, shut up. Cutting out added sugar that does nothing for you except make you crash, bloated, ruin your gut lining, decrease collagen production, can increase your A1C (diabetes risk), and turns straight to fat is not restricting. You’re gonna have that stuff on the holidays— you can cut it out for 3 weeks, I promise.

Managing Holiday Office Parties & Community Events

I still enjoy the office potlucks and other mini events because I usually reach for the protein options instead or the veggie options. I’ll have the turkey, the ham, the deviled eggs (deviled eggs hate to see me coming), the cranberry chicken salad, etc. I still enjoy myself, I’ll just not have the pumpkin pie, the Mac and cheese, the stuffing, etc. because I’m saving that for my actual Thanksgiving/Christmas meal. Also… I do not trust other people cooking for me unless I’m there watching things happen. I don’t know what goes on at your house lol.

… But what if Paula from HR brought in her world famous (insert sugary, fatty, super processed, but super yummy food here)?

I’m most definitely going to have something if it’s something I can’t get anywhere else. If there is something that I know looks good (or is actually good) and I’m not gonna have it at my Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, then I’ll have some. I don’t say no because it’s not part of my “diet”. There’s this girl I used to work with and she would bring in these cheesy, turkey, apple, and cranberry sliders. They were SO GOOD. I would have 1 slider and then load up on the celery and other veggies or fruit.

Alcohol

I’m not drinking alcohol unless it’s Thanksgiving, Christmas, or NYE. That’s just a no go for me. When I drink, I like to drink socially. But there’s 3 days for the rest of the year where I’m going to be drinking all night, so I don’t have any alcohol unless it’s the day of the holiday.

Bring in a healthy side option

For my office potluck, I’m making a fruit bowl, a veggie plate, and a large charcuterie board. My work bestie and I will prob be the only ones picking off of the veggie plate, but at least we do have options to load up on in case Paula from HR brings in that delicious yummy option and we want a full plate of food like everyone else.

If I’m going to have it on Thanksgiving or Christmas, I’m not going to have it anywhere else (unless it’s protein)

I will skip the sweet potato casserole and the macaroni and cheese because I’m going to have it on my Thanksgiving and Christmas. Again, I don’t care for home cooking unless I was there watching you cook for me (or if you’re a cute old lady or a grandma, I trust them so much). But the point is, I’m not going to have 8 Thanksgiving dinners this month. I’ll have one with my family and that’s it. I’m not even doing a Friendsgiving this year (but that’s only because we’re all traveling or working). But the main reason we gain weight during the holidays isn’t because we have a treat or two, it’s because we are having a Thanksgiving or Christmas meal every 2 seconds.

What’s on my Thanksgiving/Christmas plate?

I eat whatever I want, but I’ll only have a plate and a slice of dessert. I don’t get seconds or thirds. I’m a one plate girly and that’s it but I load my plate with everything and I give myself solid amounts. I don’t put tiny scoops of anything on my plate. I’d rather have food on my plate that I can’t finish rather than me cleaning my plate because I didn’t put enough of anything on there and still feeling hungry and restricted. I want to enjoy myself with my family. Thanksgiving and Christmas isn’t the time to feel restricted. For dessert, I’ll have a slice of a dessert. This year I’m being told we’re having pumpkin pie and Dutch apple pie, which are both my favorites. So I’m going to have HALF a slice of pumpkin pie and HALF a slice of the apple pie and it’ll equal to one full slice. With alcohol, I’m always drinking water. I actually drink water with my meal and drink alcohol around the meal. I personally like to stick to red wine.

How do I handle leftovers?

My family likes to give the kids (which would be me, my sibling, and our cousins) the leftovers so we can take it home. I try to take most of the protein, green bean casserole (my all-time fav omg), and deviled eggs (my grandmother makes the best, it’s impossible to beat her tbh) whereas my sibling and our cousins like to take the macaroni, garlic mash, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, and the other foods.

Exercise

I’m exercising everyday. Even on Thanksgiving and Christmas I’m exercising. I have my own routine but on Thanksgiving and Christmas, I’ll also be doing a hot (plump) girl walk after my meals to help my food digest. But even on my rest days, I’m doing active recovery.

The whole month isn’t a holiday.

I think you just have to manage the holidays by reminding yourself that’s it’s not Christmas or Thanksgiving everyday. You don’t need a full Christmas or Thanksgiving plate each day. Still enjoy the fun Starbucks drinks or Kelly from the marketing department’s apple pie, but order the tall Starbucks and not the grande or venti. Have a slice of the pie and not 1/3 of the pie. Don’t eat the candy on the table that you don’t really care for but it’s within reach so you eat it anyway. Save that for something you actually do like.

…And for anyone who is going to rage type a weird message saying I’m promoting anything unhealthy, please save yourself the time.

Happy Holidays! 🤍

✨ My new book “The Luxe Girl’s Playbook” is available now (this is the link). It’s about going into 2025 a brand new, leveled up version of yourself mentally and how you can make everyone that doubted you absolutely sickkkkk. It’s the mental diet we all need. It’ll be unavailable mid-December 2024 🫶🏼

[martiandmichelle]

Here's little Kaatje holding my left tit out for others to play with. I love when someone holds my tit like this while others play with it - even better is one person holding one tit like this an another person holding the other the same way. But more on this below.

It's official: I'm keeping the extra pounds on and will even let my weight go as high as 175 pounds. Roxy quickly polled the people working here their of opinion of my body at either 165 pounds or 135, showing them photos. With the significantly bigger boobs at 165 I was surprised that 90% of the guys want me at the heavier weight. But even the ladies came in at 80% for the bigger size. I spent some time with Shannan, our site physician, yesterday and she gave me a clean bill of health for 167 pounds, with one exception: my blood sugar and A1C have crept up to prediabetic range. She gave me a blood sugar monitor and told me if I began to consistently go over 125 blood sugar (fasting) then it's time to lose the weight. Gail has designed a special diet for me to help me gain weight in a healthy manner and I'll have to keep up with my walks and exercises.

I'm determined to hit that Z cup!!!!!!!!!!!

Now back to the position above. The drive back Sunday to our house and Mountain Media was scary or I would have slept the 90 minutes we drove. Kaatje doesn't pay much attention to speed limits! Anyway, we got home safely and, me having been up all Saturday night/Sunday morning enjoying my tits, I was ready for a long nap, but a surprise waiting me when I walked into my bedroom suite in the house: all four of our new porn studs were there waiting for me! Each wore a tuxedo and held a dozen roses! I was stunned. They all looked very handsome and here I was in jeans, a jacket, and a sweater underneath which the bottom fourth of my boobs hung out. I didn't have much makeup on and my hair, though washed that morning, was a mess.

But the guys were soon on me and I forgot everything else. There were kisses with hands going up my sweater. Soon the jacket and sweater were on the floor and the jeans and undies weren't far behind. I was nude: they were fully clothed. Then two of them got in the position Kaatje held in the photo above; the other two began enjoying my tits and nipples. I couldn't see a thing but the backs of the two guys hold my two girls. The shortest guy was 5'11." I felt small - all of me except my boobs which felt gigantic.

The guys were thrilled with my newly grown boobs at my increased weight. They had interviewed back in August and I had put on 3 extra cup sizes with my weight. They would play and suck on them and talk about them as if it were just my tits and them in the room.

There was no video in the room, but audio was broadcast across the studio complex and into the main house. I think everyone listened in even as the four of them enjoyed my tits from 12:30 in the afternoon when I arrived until dark. Then the fucking began. As a wrote in an earlier post, our board of directors insisted all new male stars be at least 11" long - so these four guys were: two Americans (one white, one black); one Canadian; and one guy from New Zealand of all places!

It was 1:00 am when they left me, thoroughly exhausted. I finally got my sleep.

[terriblepersongreatseamonster]

(Please bear with me through this forthcoming ramble, because I've had all of 6 hours of sleep in the last two days and I'm a bit all over the place. Hopefully this will be coherent 😅)

I don't watch Bridgerton (that's a whole other post that I don't feel like typing out write now), but I've been fascinated by what I've seen on here from this newest season.

I turn 40 this year, and depending on your age you either think that's getting old or you think that I'm still relatively young. I bring this up, because what I'm seeing about Penelope and Colin is honestly something that I never thought I'd see.

Since I was twelve, I've dealt with weight issues. (At this point in my life, I know it's due to PCOS and some other health issues). I am barely 5'0" and typically fit into the 18/20 size clothes.

Being a teen in the late 90s/early 00s meant I didn't see people who looked like me get to be the romantic lead. Girls who looked like me were relegated to being the funny, supportive friend in the background. We got bullied and reminded that we weren't worthy of love or success because of our size. We went to school dances alone and sat on the bleachers while our friends slow-danced with their dates. We didn't get the love story, we got to watch someone else have the love story.

For such a long time I believed that my value as a person was tied to my weight. No matter what I did the weight wouldn't budge. Hell, I'm on Ozempic for my diabetes and I'm starting to think I'm the only person on the planet it doesn't cause weight loss for (it does however do a marvelous job of controlling my blood sugar, and at this point a healthy A1C is the thing that matters most).

I went on a few dates in my 20s with men who used my size as their reason to not continue dating (and yes, they all knew my size when they asked me out). When I started dating my husband, I went into it fully anticipating that no matter how much fun we might have he wouldn't be able to see past my size. I was wrong, and am so grateful for that.

It was only about 2 years ago that I started learning to see that I was far more than my weight. That whether I was my current size or managed to somehow be 100 lbs lighter, I'd still be the same person on the inside. I'd still have the same talents and skills, the same personality and humor. And while I've grown to see & love myself for who I am, it's still a day-by-day thing that I struggle with.

So, seeing this:

And this:

It hits me in a way that is hard to explain. I never thought I'd get to see something like this. Never thought I'd get to see someone my size and shape shown as beautiful and desirable.

Look at this woman, she is absolutely lovely:

I don't really know how to end this because now I'm crying. I guess my main point is that I feel seen and it's been an emotional rollercoaster.

And I may have to turn Netflix back on so I can see this season 😅

[fantasiawandering]

Continuing the attempt to find silver linings right now -- storytime. After mum's death in 2019, my greatest source of comfort were her wedding rings. I hadn't realized how much I was using them as a fidget/stim until my stint in the hospital. After I went septic and almost died in 2021, I dropped 20 pounds in the two weeks I was living off an IV. I rebounded bad after that, to the point where mum's rings didn't fit any more. I wore them on a chain around my neck, but it wasn't the same. And mum was TINY. The cuffs on her wedding dress were so ridiculously small I had to measure them -- 15cm around. I, on the other hand, inherited my paternal grandmother's highlander build, which is more like most of the Vikings in How to Train Your Dragon. I'd already spent $500 having the bands rebuilt so they could be sized up to fit me after she died. I had nothing left in my savings to size them up again. So chain it was.

For the last year or so, through all the chronic illness roller coaster rides, I discovered I was in the beginning stages of Type 2 diabetes, and my doctor enrolled my in a special program for diabetes reversal. During the group counselling sessions, I had said that aside from diabetes reversal, my primary hope was to be able to wear mum's rings again. Turns out, the one thing I actually got a handle on in the health mess was the small changes in my diet needed to regulate insulin (lots more protein -- SO much protein -- increased fiber, and substituting foods with a low glycemic index). My A1C is now back in the normal range, and many of those habit changes, designed to reduce fat around the liver, which can affect insulin resistance, have led to loss elsewhere on my body as well. Including my hands. And, as of last week...

I feel like a part of me was missing and now restored. It's a very small thing in the sea of everything I'm trying to navigate in my life right now, but it's kind of amazing how disproportionately good it feels to have them back.

[3liza]

Saw your post asking about insulin resistance without high blood sugar, and yeah I have experience with that exact thing. Everyone in my family has some sort of awful blood sugar issues, but despite having something clearly wrong with me my glucose tests and a1c's were coming back thoroughly normal. I got lucky with a decent doctor and she ordered an insulin test (usually more accurate with fasting I believe, but the result was rather high anyways) and she noted that it was high and told me to try out a diabetes diet to see if it helped.

I'm on a strict low-glycemic index diet now and it's really improved my health, mostly my mental health, but my skin has been upgraded from "abysmal" to a firm "mediocre."

Do I know what's wrong? No. Probably never will, but I'm feeling a lot better at least.

huh. thats useful info. im about to get a new doctor, i wonder if she'll be willing to entertain this sort of weirdness

edit: i just feel Bad and Sick if i eat a sufficient amount of sugar. systemic symptoms, skin gets worse, actual skin pathology like wounds not healing or eczema/psoriasis/fungus gets worse, migraines get triggered, pain flares, etc. not normal person "i ate too much sugar i feel temporarily sub-optimal" halloween candy coma, but i will get actually sick for a few days if i over-indulge. but i crave sugar constantly, which doesnt really mean anything, lots of people crave sugar because It Tastes Good so its not exactly diagnostic. sometimes the sugar cravings seem uncontrollable, like "i need to get out of bed where i am trying to sleep and eat something sweet or i cant think about aything else" kind of stuff. my parents do this same dance with carbohydrates and sugar, they feel awful, eat a cookie, feel awful, recover, say stuff like "oh i shouldnt eat the cookie", and it cycles. some of it is eating disorder crap, which is real hard to differentiate from other issues. some of it is being underweight/underfed from gastroparesis (which I have, pretty badly) which means certain circumstances of calorie shortages, bad digestion, whatever, can align perfectly to trigger I Am Starving I Need to Overeat Right Now Or I'll Die programming in the ape brain, and again, thats real hard to separate from blood sugar symptoms and eating disorder symptoms because they all get tied up together.

however, if i manage to grocery shop in the correct way to provide myself with ample available appropriate food, and i can eat ketogenic or nearly-ketogenic with focuses on dairy fat and just regular animal meat and fresh veg, with minimal or no grains, starches, and sugars, i feel like 60% better on all axes. my dad, too, eventually, after he got diagnosed, was instructed to stop eating most carbs etc and immediately lost all the extra weight he was uncomfortable with his whole life, and immediately got less chronically crappy-feeling. so there's something going on, i just dont know if its medical or genetic or what. some people just dont do well with a lot of grains and theres no particular medical reason.

[asteralpine]

This continuous glucose meter changed my life, man.

I was diagnosed relatively late for Type 1--at the very start of 9th grade (so I was like 14 or 15 years old). I was a gold-star diabetic patient for a few years: I tested all the time, I was dedicated to carb-counting, my A1c was pretty damn good. Every time I saw the doctor, she gushed with praise for me.

(Once, there was a nasty snowstorm on the same day that I had an appointment, and when my dad and I got there, the nurse told us that they'd been calling a lot of patients to cancel their appointments because of the weather, but they didn't want to cancel mine because they knew it'd be fantastic or something.)

But then other stuff happened (depression came rushing back) and I started to neglect that stuff. I didn't test very often, so I was mostly guessing about how much insulin to take, which made my numbers all fucky, which made me want to test even less because the highs felt like a failure, and so on.

And then CGMs. Once my depression and anxiety had been sort of dealt with (better living through chemistry!!), I brought up the idea to my doctor, and it only took a couple of months before I had my very own Dexcom. My A1c is in a good range now (at my last appointment, I was still in the habit of pushing praise aside, so when my doctor mentioned how good it was, I said "I know I can still get it lower" and she straight up said "Uhh, please don't. If we get much lower, it's going to be putting you in dangerously-low ranges for too long, and I don't like that") and I'm way less wound-up about what the numbers mean.

When I did finger-pricks with a regular glucose meter, I usually hesitated. In the few seconds before it showed the results, I would have to brace myself because ugggh it's going to be high because I'm the worst, but this morning I did a finger-prick and it was just...nothing.

I've still got a lot of work to do to get back into carb counting and doing better about exercise and making better snacky choices, but so much of the weight of diabetes has been eliminated just because my Dexcom has allowed (forced) me to be very familiar with my glucose levels on a constant basis. Wonderful!

[the-raindeer-king]

Went to the endocrinologist today. First time going without my dad, as I don't have a car and he usually drives me. But it went well. A1c was the same as last time, but also the closest I've gotten to being in a good range. 7.2! :)

[dionysus-is-my-dude]

had to go to the hospital to get blood work done today after the 2nd time suffering from symptoms that me and my coworkers think are episodes of low blood sugar. BUT, my A1C levels were normal, HOWEVER, I had an older order to have my thyroid checked and decided to get that done at the same time.....

y'all, i might have hashimoto's and hypothyroidism....my TSH level was on the higher side, and my T4 was real low....it explains so MUCH. But it's also terrifying, 'cause these episodes of leg weakness, breaking out in a cold sweat, and feeling super tired all of a sudden have me terrified that, if I don't immediately sit and take a glucose tablet (which helped me immensely after my episode today), am i gonna pass out? am i gonna have a seizure? i need answers, so i'm definitely calling my dr's office first thing tomorrow morning.

y'all, imagine that i can FINALLY lose the weight i need to, that i actually have the energy to exercise, that i no longer need to take naps, imagine me finally feeling BETTER instead of feeling worse and worse. fingers crossed, my dudes.

[thewolfwaitsbelow]

I love when they take my a1c in the same room I’m gonna be seen in and I get to watch the machine count down and I’ll know it as soon as the machine does

[flameunquenched]

tw for disordered eating/deliberate self-starvation discussion under the cut. it is, however, overall a happy ending!

ever since i got diagnosed with diabetes in early 2022, i have struggled with disordered eating (not necessarily an eating disorder) and deliberate self-starvation. a lot of this stemmed from how controlled and restricted my diet was in the immediate aftermath of the diagnosis, in an effort to bring down my a1c as quickly as possible. my family, without meaning to, worsened this severely. my dad's wife has a family member (her father) who has diabetes and she has been working with him for a long time on his. however, her methods are incredibly outdated and that transferred to me in the form of severe restriction on what and how much i could eat.

my mom, bless her, was about the same way. for several months, i subsisted on salads (which i love tbh), lean protein like chicken, and eggs. they forced me to eat breakfast, which at the time i hated because i tended to get sick from eating too early.

all of this lead to, once i had my own place and was living alone, barely eating for most of the day and then gorging at night. there were days i would go hours and hours without eating at all, sometimes up to 18 hours when you factor in the fact that i was sleeping. and when i would eat, i begrudged myself every single bite.

i'm diabetic, i'd tell myself. i don't deserve to eat [insert whatever food i was eating, 'healthy' or 'unhealthy']. and so because of the fact that i believed that i wasn't worthy of eating, i'd starve myself. 'oh if i don't eat until tonight, i can have whatever i want.'

this monday, i had my second diabetes class with a lovely woman named zina. we spent two entire hours discussing food and how food and eating affects diabetes. i learned, for the first time, from a professional, that starving myself through the day was doing more harm to me than good. i learned that eating smaller meals every fourish hours or so can help kickstart my metabolism again. i learned that just because i'm diabetic doesn't mean that i have to self-starve in order to deserve to eat.

guys, i can't tell you how life-changing this is for me. i have warred with myself for every bite of food for years now. i have punished myself for every calorie. i've hated myself for every cookie or bite of ice cream or roll at a restaurant. but zina helped me to realize that moderation is the key.

it's gonna take time. i have to unlearn starving myself and i really probably am gonna need therapy for the disordered eating and talking with a nutritionist is probably a good idea. but i think i may finally be able to start healing my fucked up relationship with food in 2025.

[scrapsovereign]

That One Time I Got Kidnapped By An Evil Vampire Lord Ch. 2

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57838303/chapters/147393754#workskin

Summary: To say that Mackenzie's day starts off on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. A stranger shows up at her work and is about to make her day a lot more interesting.

Pairings: past Ascended Astarion x Evil male!Tav, Ascended Astarion x Original Female Character

Trigger warnings/Tags: cheating, intimate partner violence, abusive relationships, medical settings, body shaming, internalized fatphobia

Renton Highlands, Washington  

Thursday, August 21rst 

8:30 AM 

“What’s the deal with Nurse Brad? He blood sugar shamed me, which I think was low-key fat-shaming,” Mackenzie complains, her mouth full of breakfast sandwich. “I’m getting bro podcast vibes from him,” she says out one side of her mouth as she chews her food with the other.

She reaches into Rob’s cup holder and takes a sip of the Annihilator she’d ordered from Dutch Bros. She takes a moment to savor the taste of 6 espresso shots, half and half, and white chocolate macadamia nut while Rob finishes chewing to say his piece.

“Lo-ki? I need the Thor-ough details- ohwhoathere!” Rob’s eyes go wide at the Tesla that almost side-swiped his Subaru Outback as he drives down the road to Mac’s.

“He said that if I went paleo and went to his CrossFit gym my A1C wouldn’t be so bad. Like excuse me, I’m on my feet all day already, and today’s the first time in weeks I’ve had fast food and a fancy coffee drink. Oh! And that I need to start reframing my paradigm to embody a ‘high value female’,” Mac rants, imitating the tone of voice Brad used with her earlier. “What does that even mean?!”

“I hate it when dudes say ‘females’,” Rob says, letting his long, salt and pepper brown hair down from its bun. 

“Right? It's so Ferengi-coded. Like, try me again when you have the latinum, small-ears…you haven’t got the lobes,” Mackenzie snickers, Rob utterly lost on what Star Trek deep lore she’s referencing.

“Is that the Star Track? What do they say, ‘Live long and let the force be with you’?” He says with a mischievous grin, turning down Mackenzie’s street.

Mackenzie sighs, taking another long sip of her coffee drink to hide her annoyance. “Yep. And also with you,” she says, deadpan. 

Rob pulls up on the side of the street across from the house she rents with Ari and turns the car off, squinting at her driveway. “Whose car is that?” 

Mac feels that all-knowing lump inside her gut solidify as she sets eyes on her car beside the other in the driveway.

“That’s Ari’s friend Jasmine, they met at ECCC this year,” Mac says blandly, taking another bite of her half-finished breakfast sandwich. 

It turns to ash in her mouth.

She gulps it down, wrapping up the other half and shoving it into her work backpack. Hopefully she’ll remember to eat it on the way back to work. 

Her phone buzzes in her hands- it’s her boss, Amanda.

“Hey-“

“Are you okay? How are you feeling? Are you still there? Do you need someone to come get you?” Amanda blurts out in a run-on sentence.

Mackenzie’s throat feels tight contemplating Amanda’s concern for her. 

Rob’s attention perks up from his phone. “Is that A-man-da Hug n’ kiss?!” He asks excitedly.

“Is that Bobbertina I hear? Heeeeeey Bobby boy!” She shouts, her voice easily heard through the phone’s speaker.

“You know, you can do this over text, or the D and D sessions where you see each other every week,” Mackenzie says flatly, watching Rob shake his head.

“Nah, it wouldn’t hit the same, you know? Hey, so, how you feelin’ Mac? Should we see you tomorrow?” Amanda asks, offering Mac the out if she wants to take the day off. 

Mac sighs wearily, rubbing her forehead. “Nah…I’m coming in. I don’t have any PTO left for a full day. Probably about 10 at the latest?” 

“Hmmm…if you’re sure…okay. Dr. Anderson called off, so it’s inbasket hell- I mean, fun for you today. I’ll help cover until you get in,” Amanda says proudly, her car door closing in the background of the call. 

Mackenzie feels a chill come over her- Amanda working in anything else other than her nurse triage inbasket is a nightmare. 

She’d better get to work before Amanda makes too much of a mess in there.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you then,” Mac says lamely. She likes her unhinged grand-millennial manager, but always feels awkward wrapping up a conversation with her.

“Okay, see you soon!” Amanda exclaims before ending the call. 

Mackenzie slumps in the car, closing her eyes for a moment to steady the flip-flopping of her stomach. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay home?” Rob asks, his brow furrowed in worry. “Ari’s home, he could help take care of you.”

“No…he’s streaming today and I don’t want to impose on him…” Mac slides further down in the seat, hoping that it renders her invisible. 

Rob’s jaw tenses, his fingers tap on the steering wheel. “You’re too nice. He’s supposed to do that for you, you know that, right? Sickness and health and all that?” He states to the road ahead of them, turning to look Mac in the eyes.

“I do,” Mac sniffles, fidgeting with a straw wrapper in her hands. “It’s funny. I spent all night wishing he would reach out and now I don’t want to go inside and see him. Or talk to him.”

Rob sits quietly with her, allowing her the space to feel her grief as it permeates the silence between them. 

“Kim said they couldn’t find anything wrong,” Mac says after a few moments, unable to tolerate the intensity of her unspoken sadness any longer. “She thought that maybe I was pregnant, but my HCG was negative and nothing showed up on the imaging. Which is fine, I don’t think I could take care of a kid right now.”

“I agree, one kid is enough,” Rob observes, curling into a ball, his gangly limbs shielding himself from the straw wrapper that hits him in the face. 

“Hmmph! Give not into anger, for that is the path to the dark side! Much fear I sense in you, young Skywalker.” He exclaims in his best Yoda impression. “But no really, Maccy. You’ve gotta be having some big feelings, you have health stuff going on, and you need some support. Have you tried to explain how you feel to him with your ‘I messages’?”

Mac huffs a laugh, wishing it was that easy. “You think I haven’t? Nursing school Jedi Mind tricks don't work.”

“Have faith in the force, padawan,” Rob says dreamily, switching to his rather good Obi Wan Kenobi impression.

“Listen. I did that when I went full motivational interviewing interrogation mode on him after he gave me COVID the first time. He said I’d picked it up from work, but then I found out about Sara, and that he got it from her and gave it to me because they were…you know.”

“I…” Rob flexes his arms, rolls his neck to the side to stretch it. “I know you’ve forgiven him, but I haven’t,” he states evenly, quietly. A sign that Mac knows he’s angry. 

Mac unintentionally twists the ring on her finger as he mentions it. “Yep, that’s…yep. Well, if anything we’ll have a chance to talk about it tonight when he wants to bang and I have to explain why we can’t. I should probably head on in and get cleaned up. Thanks for letting me crash in that empty stock room after I got discharged.”

Rob yawns and nods, leaning over the seat to give Mackenzie a tight hug. 

“No problem, facilities owed me a favor. Anything for you, anytime. You need help inside?” His brows pitch upwards, ready to spring into action. 

Mackenzie winces as she gathers her things, opening the car door, seeing it scrape on the brown grass of the curb.

“I’ll be fine,” she smiles. She’s lying to him.

Rob smiles back and turns the key in the ignition. He knows.

Mackenzie trudges to the door, goes to open the lock, but feels no resistance. She opens the door quietly, mindful of the background audio that might pick up on his stream. 

She steps over the craft foam and fabric, pins and half-finished garments as she makes her way to the kitchen table. She lets out a heavy sigh in disapproval when she sees the cookie sheet that lies directly on it littered with bagel bites, half-eaten and grown cold.

She has her work backpack almost empty when she hears the sounds of two voices moaning together, one male, the other female.

A wave of nausea surges through her, her limbs going numb.

No. That can’t be it. He’s not cheating on her with Jasmine in their bed. Mac is just being crazy again. He’s probably just watching porn. Yeah…Ari’s just taking a break from streaming Minecraft speedruns to jerk it, it’s not the first time he’s done it.

Her guts ache, a ripple of deep knowing washing over her so strongly it almost knocks her over. It helps her remember Jasmine’s car is still in the driveway, helps her see the line of discarded clothing in the hall... 

“Mmm, Ari…you fuck my pussy so good, ” the female voice echoes from the bedroom door.

Mackenzie has to be hearing things. 

Yes, it’s just an intrusive thought, she’s more than likely going crazy and hearing things others can’t hear. It would make sense- she’s sleep deprived, not feeling well, and she’s in pain. She’s just losing it, she didn’t actually hear anything, she’s imagining things.

That is, until she hears it again, accompanied by a rapid cacophony of combined moans and wet flesh slapping together.

“Yes, Ari…yes just like that…I’m gonna fucking cum on your dick daddy, ooohhhh…Ariiiiiii… ”

“That tight little hole feels so good, Jas! Cum for me, cum for daddy… ”

The floorboards creak underneath her feet as Mac tries to stealth down the hall, giving her presence away. 

Mac takes a deep breath or five to still her pounding heart. 

“Get dressed Jas, I think Kenz is home… ”

Ari’s panicked instructions all but confirm what her intuition is telling her. It did the same when she had caught him in the act with Hayleigh, a 16 year old fan that he’d brought to their hotel room at PAX last year. Mac recalls with deep shame that Ari had almost successfully gaslit her into thinking the whole thing didn’t happen. Ari might have gotten away with it if Hayleigh’s father hadn't shown up at their door 2 months later, angry as hell and demanding $750 to cover the cost of her termination.

She walks quietly towards the hall closet, opening the door carefully, pulling her go-bag out that her therapist insisted she make. 

She wraps her tingling hand around the master bedroom door, making a mental checklist of the additional contents in her room she needs to grab, keeping her mind busy to forget the sudden urge to vomit all over the floor.

The open door reveals Ari and Jas, but not in the position she expected to find them. She takes stock of what she sees, trying to ground herself in the facts. 

Ari and Jas are sitting on the bed next to each other against the headboard, disheveled and flushed, wearing what could be interpreted as sleepwear. They’re an odd pair. Jas is a tiny thing that couldn’t be taller than five feet and some change and a hundred pounds soaking wet, Ari being a few inches over six feet tall and built like a comic book hero-well, a retired one. He had a bit of a gut and some fat under his chin that he’s self conscious of.

If she had only given Ari a brief glance, he would pass her inspection with flying colors. He’s been known to walk around the house with only gym shorts on. The sight of his broad, naked chest with the slight bit of a tum hanging over the elastic waist isn’t suspicious. 

The pillow he has on his crotch is, though. 

So is the musky, slightly fishy odor of sex lingering in the air. 

Mac notices Jas’ long black hair has been pulled into a tight, hasty ponytail. Her small, slender body is slick with what she thinks is sweat even though the shirt of Ari’s she has on is dry. Her dark eye makeup around her jade eyes is smeared in streaks down her face. 

Mac then turns her scrutinizing gaze back towards Ari. He beams at Mac with his ice blue eyes, sweeping back his bleach blonde hair to show its mousy brown roots, putting his muscular, trembling arm on display. 

“Oh…ah, hey there Kenz. Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to work?” He inquires with his SoCal accent (that he claims isn’t an accent), his thumb drumming on the pillow he has atop his lap.

“Yes,” Mackenzie says calmly as she desperately tries to keep her shit together, “Usually I am.” She throws extra clothes into the bag unceremoniously, turning sharply to grab her ADHD meds out of the bathroom.

“Kenz…it’s good to see you,” Jas calls politely from where she’s perched on the bed. 

Mackenzie ignores her, looking down at the bathroom trash can briefly. 

It’s clean for once, after two months of reminding Ari to take it out.

Interesting.

“Is it?” Mackenzie asks, her eyebrows raised, her voice pitching up to a squeak.

“Why would you say that babe?” Ari asks, swallowing thickly. 

Mackenzie stares at him, emotionless. 

“Look, you guys,” she starts, zipping up her pack, throwing it over her shoulders. “It’s pretty clear what was going on before I came in.”

“We…we were uh, just waking up,” Jas stammers. “Ari was about to start streaming and I was going to keep working on our cosplays,” she says playfully, twirling her ebony hair idly with her long, manicured nails.

Nails that match the welt marks forming on Ari’s shoulders. 

“Gotta rise and grind, huh?” Mac snarks, her voice catching in her throat. 

She looks at her bedside alarm- she’s lingered too long, she’s going to be more than a few minutes late if she doesn’t leave for work now.

“You know it babe! ‘The Might Way is the right way’,” Ari smirks, parroting the way he says his catchphrase from his stream. 

“I’m sure it is,” Mackenzie clips out as tears sting the corners of her eyes. She makes her way out of the bedroom, the fibers of the tan carpet crushed underneath the stomping of her feet.

“Kenz,” Ari calls out as Mac walks swiftly down the hallway, ignoring him. “Kenz!”

She grabs her keys and her work bag, ready to walk out the door when his large, calloused hand grabs around her wrist.

“Hey. What’s going on? You didn’t come home last night,” Ari asks, his voice low and soft. 

“Yeah, well, that’s because I was in the ER,” Mac snaps, wrenching her hand away from him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?,” he furrows his brow in worry, reaching up to cup the side of her face with care. “Why didn’t you text or call?”

Mackenzie flinches, pulling away.

“I could ask why you didn’t do the same. You know, I had been in the ER alone for almost four hours when I saw you replied with kissy heart faces to Jas after she’d tweeted about coming over,” she counters. 

“You’re acting crazy,” he coos, brushing his thumbs that smell like somebody’s else’s genitals against her cheekbones. “It’s just an emoji, it doesn’t mean what you think.”

A strong wave of nausea rips through Mackenzie- she really is going to vomit all over her husband if she doesn’t leave now. She backs away from him and opens the front door to leave.

Mac pauses and turns around to look Ari dead in his arctic blue eyes.

“You know what? This is stupid. Ari, I heard you and Jas when I came home. I know why you didn’t check on me. You were so busy fucking Jas you didn’t even think about me, where I was. You know where I slept last night until Rob was done with his shift?” she rasps, wiping away the fat tears that drip down her cheeks. “A closet. I slept in a storage closet with a pile of musty hospital blankets while you screwed and slept in our bed! Rob had to bring me home-“

“Rob brought you home ? You’re cheating on me with him, aren’t you?” Ari recoils in disgust.

Mackenzie shakes her head, so angry with him she’s unable to think of a reply she won’t regret later. 

“I have to go to work. At least I’m getting paid to get fucked over when I’m there,” she sobs out, barely able to see the sidewalk as tears stream down her face, power-walking to her ancient Toyota Camry. 

“Wait, Kenz, please,” Ari whines, following her to the driveway as she tosses her bags unceremoniously in the car and pauses to hear him say his piece. 

“What are we doing for dinner?” He asks like he hadn’t just accused her of cheating on him.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Mackenzie curses under her breath, slamming the door, turning the ignition and peeling out of the driveway faster than her sedan was built to do.

She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry as she sees Ari chase after her car barefoot down the street in nothing but his gym shorts, so she does both.

…until she sees her check engine and her gas light flicker on.

Downtown Seattle, Washington  

Mercy West Medical Group Primary Care Clinic

Thursday, August 24th 

10:30 AM

“Hey boss, I’m here- what happened to you?” Mackenzie’s eyes rake over the crime scene of a nurse manager.

Amanda closes her eyes tightly shut as she tips her head back, holding pressure to a nose stuffed with cotton balls that had dripped blood into her mask. 

“So…we had a walk-in for chest pain…no insurance, of course, not our patient. And so I figure I’ll just grab him, do a quick EKG, make sure he’s not dying,” she gestures with her free hand. 

“When I go to grab him and take him back…Mackenzie Elizabeth Eriksson, with the Flying Spaghetti Monster as my witness, I didn’t think the anime thing of having a nosebleed was real,” she nasally groans, changing hands to continue holding pressure. “I was today years old when I learned it was real.”

“Did you get vitals? Does he still need an EKG?” Mac inquires smoothly, positively dead inside. She prays to whoever’s listening that Amanda can’t tell.

“Yeah, orders are in, machine’s in there. He’s in room 7. His name’s Rion Ahncooneen. Ankhunin? I didn’t ask him how to say it, you get the idea. And uhh Maccy? You might wanna prepare yourself for this one. You ever seen Labyrinth?” Amanda side-eyes her, lifting the tissue to check and see if her bleeding has stopped.

“A long time ago, why?” Mac asks, all business as she writes his name and exam room on a sticky note, her gut tingling in an odd way she can’t explain.

“You…uhm. You’ll see what I mean. I didn’t think people that pretty existed in real life, but here we are,” she chuckles, tipping her head back again. “Hey, you alright?” 

Mac cringes at being called out. Of course Amanda can tell she’s upset. She can always tell.

“No, and if I start talking about it, I’m going to start crying and I won’t be able to stop,” Mac sets down her personal and her work bag on the chairs in her boss’ office, grabbing her stethoscope. 

Amanda eyes her go bag with somber recognition.

“I’m here for you, Cheesy. Anything you need. I have a copy of my house key in my desk- top right drawer. You can take the spare bedroom, I’ll wash the sheets and everything-“

Amanda must really be serious if she’s calling her Cheesy, the name Mac had received from an angry patient while they worked together at urgent care during the early days of the pandemic. Mac gives her a quick side hug in reply, avoiding her eyes, and marches down the hall, catching a generous glob of hand sanitizer foam when she reaches halfway there.

She opens the exam room door, rubbing sanitizer over hands that don’t feel like they belong to her, putting her best patient care game face on. 

“Hi, I’m Mackenzie, I’m one of the medical assistants here. I’m going to get an…an…” Mackenzie’s brain shorts out, her stuttering words robbed of her as she stares at the shirtless man in the exam room. 

Amanda calling him pretty is the understatement of the century.

The corners of his eyes tug up at her with a cocked eyebrow. He leans back on the exam table where he sits, playfully puffing out his hairless, smooth, perfect tits as if on purpose. 

Oh no. He knows he’s pretty. 

Mac exhales, annoyed at his preening. He’s one of those. Great. Just…great. 

She rakes her eyes over him critically; down to the slender, cut muscles of his abdomen and back up to the sharp, delicate features of his face covered by the blue surgical mask.

This is a man who takes great care in his appearance, unlike Ari. His skin practically glows in the fluorescent light of the exam room. His short nails are impeccably manicured with a layer of clear polish, his silver brows shaped to perfection, with a hint of kohl lining his eyes. His black lightweight woolen trousers hug his waist perfectly. She eyes the crisp white linen shirt that hangs on the door with a blazer that matches his pants- they probably cost as much as her rent. 

“Yes darling, you were saying?” he states airily in a posh British accent that sounds like silk velvet would feel, carding an elegant hand through his impossibly perfect, long silver waves. 

“EKG. Yep. What’s your name and birthday?” She requests, flipping the machine screen up to put in the information. 

“Rion Ancunìn. October,” he pauses to think about it, his head tilted to the side. “October the fourth…1983.”

Huh, a Libra. That explains the pompous airs he puts on. 

“Birthday’s coming up soon. Any plans for the big 4-0?” She inquires with empty interest. 

“You could say that,” he drawls flirtatiously. “Nothing set in stone as of yet, but I suppose a bit of hedonistic debauchery might be in order for the occasion.”

Mackenzie pauses and blinks after she takes out the leads and alcohol swabs from the machine, reflecting on the phrase ‘hedonistic debauchery’. She’d more or less grown up under a rock, she doesn’t know the first thing about what that’s supposed to be. She’s dying to know more, but isn’t a question like that inappropriate?

Mac’s impulsivity wins. “I might regret asking this, but what does ‘hedonistic debauchery’ entail?”

“It’s better experienced than described,” he purrs seductively, giving her a once over with half-lidded eyes.

Mac almost starts laughing. 

Is this guy hitting on her? Is he fucking for real?

“Sounds like it’s different than the usual board games and beer that’s popular ‘round these parts,” she chuckles politely. 

“I’m going to have you lay down for me,” Mac instructs, avoiding his gaze that follows her as she comes closer to him. She pulls out the table extension, turning her back briefly to sanitize her hands and put gloves on. 

When she turns around he’s watching her keenly, like a cat would observe a mouse. 

Like she’s his prey.

“And you’re not going to join me? Pity,” he pouts, looking at her out of the side of his keen ruby eyes as Mac chokes on her own spit from his remark. 

She tears open the alcohol wipes and he hums as she quickly swipes them across his left ribcage. Touching him feels like playing Russian roulette with an electric fence, her nervous system sending lightning rods of electricity down to her core. She fans him with the plastic card that houses the electrode tabs to dry the alcohol and he groans. HE GROANS. 

“That feels rather nice. Are you looking for a job? Because I could pay you to do that all…day…long,” he drawls, his eyes closing in bliss. She feels a hot flush creep up her chest, a bead of sweat dripping down her back. 

She quickly assembles the leads with shaky, fumbling  hands, her brow furrowed in concentration as she hovers her finger over the button to run the test.

“I need you to relax for just a moment,” she says monotonously, feeling another bead of sweat run down her back.

“Difficult to do when a pretty thing such as yourself is near, but I’ll give it a go,” he smirks roguishly underneath the blue mask that covers his face, giving her a sly wink. 

Mac feels her whole body tense and ache as she watches the lines turn green on the machine. 

She presses the button to capture and print out the report. She should set some boundaries with him. She should tell him that was inappropriate. She’s pretty sure too that there’s a policy about this kind of thing, not that she’d ever had to look it up.

So why do her guts tell her that the attention from him feels right? Why do they beg for more? 

A flood of shame washes over Mackenzie from head to toe. Her sex drive had been dead for almost a year and a half, so what is it about this stranger that’s made it come alive so inconveniently? Why is her body betraying her like this? Can’t she stay in control of herself? 

While Ari had incorrectly guessed she was cheating on him with Rob, had he been able to accurately detect that she would have feelings like this for another?

The tears she’d held back successfully return at the thought of Ari enduring what he has made her suffer, flooding her eyes and fogging up her eye protection. 

No, no, no. She’d done so good holding her shit together for the last 15 minutes she’s been here! She’s not crying in front of a patient…

A warm, strong hand reaches out to grip hers with care. She looks up to see Rion sitting up on the edge of the table, his eyebrows soft over his gorgeous sparkling eyes. 

“What’s troubling you, pet?” He coaxes, rubbing his thumb in reassuring circles over the back of her hand. 

Try as she may, a waterfall from her eyes streams down her face, soaking her mask as they run down in a steady river. 

“I’ve had a pretty bad day,” She explains vaguely, tearing the sheet off to show the on-call MD.

“Obviously. It must be something truly horrid to upset you so,” Rion chuckles, one of his hands coming up to trace a knuckle down the side of her tear-soaked face.

Mackenzie casts her eyes downward, fat tears pooling in the clear plastic of her eye protection as she nods with a sniffle. 

A knock at the door startles her, reflexively moving a footstep away from him.

“Everything okay in here?” Amanda asks nonchalantly as she lays eyes on a shirtless Rion, her mask hiding the lecherous smile Mac knows she wears underneath.

“Yeah, I was just getting ready to show it to Dr.Calloway,” Mac sniffles. 

Amanda takes the EKG tracing and pushes a pretend pair of glasses further up her face like an anime character, humming as she looks the sheet of paper over. “I think you’ll be fine sir- are you still having symptoms?”

“The healing touch of your lovely colleague has cured me,” he confirms, giving Mackenzie’s hand a squeeze. 

Another bead of sweat runs down Mackenzie’s back as she tries to pull her hand away.

He holds her firmly in his grasp.

Amanda’s eyes squint at Rion, at Mackenzie, and at their joined hands.

“I think we can get unhooked and dressed. It looks normal to me, but I’m just going to run everything by our on call doc just to make sure you’re safe to be released into the wild,” Amanda advises, closing the door behind her. “I’ll be right back.”

Rion lets go of Mackenzie and she goes right into autopilot, unhooking the leads with practiced ease. 

“I think my husband’s cheating on me again,” she blurts out, the confession spilling at the impulse of her traitorous gut.

“Oh dear. Do you have a lawyer?” he inquires softly, Mackenzie shaking her head in reply. 

“Would you like one?” He hops off the exam table, taking a card out of a smooth metal case, presenting it to her with a flourish.

“Astarion Ancunìn

Attorney at Law”

She looks it over, turning the card stock in her hands.

Astarion’s an unusual name. She imagines it got him teased or bullied as a kid, no wonder he goes by Rion. She finds it interesting the card doesn’t have any contact information on it. It looks custom-pressed, the paper has a good heft to it, and she can detect the smallest hint of fragrance through her mask. 

“I don’t know if I could afford your services,” she says dejectedly. “And I don’t know if I want to get divorced just yet. I feel like we could still work things out, I still love him,” she explains, her eye protection fogging up as she speaks.

“Oh, my sweet. Look at me,” he raises her chin up, his eyes darting back and forth to search her own despite the barrier of plastic and condensation between them. “Love, true love is not self-sustaining. It is a choice, and one must make that choice every day. It takes dedication, sacrifice, hard work…mutual effort from the parties involved. Honesty. Clear, effective communication.” 

His hand drops and he turns away from Mac, slipping the fine linen shirt on, buttoning it up with nimble fingers. 

“Speaking of being clear- I would hate to mislead you. I fear that I am not a divorce attorney. My legal specialty is rather, shall we say, unique? That being said, I dabble in a few areas that are relevant to your…situation.” He shrugs on the coat of his impeccably tailored suit. “Join me for a drink tonight? We can continue this discussion in a more…appropriate setting. Think of it as an informal consultation of sorts.”

Mackenzie fidgets with the card in her hands nervously. He looks like he has champagne tastes, and all she has in her go bag is an extra set of scrubs, underwear, handmade linen shorts and a t-shirt. “I don’t know if I have anything to wear…ah!”

She cries out in surprise as Rion’s hands shoot out towards her and pull the royal blue fabric of her scrub top taut at the sides.

“What’s your dress and shoe size?” He murmurs his question, holding her at arm’s length to analyze her frame and the shape of her curves.

“Depending on who makes it, anywhere from a 16 to a 20, shoes are always an 8.5,” she grouses, ashamed of how much weight she’s gained in the last few years.

Rion tsks in what Mac fears is disapproval at her larger body size. “A pity that women’s sizing remains inconsistent across the realms. No matter. You close at 5pm, correct?” Mackenzie confirms his assumption with a nod.

“I’ll have the appropriate attire delivered to you by then. The address of where we are to meet will be included with the garments.” He sweeps her hands up to his mouth covered by the disposable mask on his face, lingering a moment too long as he presses his lips to them.

“I’ll be looking forward to it, darling.”

Mackenzie stares dumbly into space as he exits the room and disappears, the realization of what she just agreed to crashing down upon her. 

[meeda]

health update (cw: body dysmorphia and weight loss mention)

my dr expressed concerns about some of my test results lol. she recommended a certain medication that might help with lowering my a1c levels but this medication is also known to cause weight loss, which isn’t a big concern for me as an overweight person

as you can imagine, the little dysmorphic devil on my shoulder is jumping for joy at the possibility of being prescribed a “weight loss pill”. Of course, that’s not the primary purpose of the pill. It’s a diabetes medication first and foremost. But the added effect of weight loss?? sign me the fuck up.

BUT at the same time, you guys know how I feel about medication. As much as possible I’d like to not be on it unless absolutely necessary. It’s a last resort for me. But goddamn is the prospect of losing weight so enticing, I feel like I’d be stupid not to take advantage of this opportunity.

I asked my dr if she can call me soon to discuss the medication further. I’d like to know all the risks and side effects first before jumping into it head first. I’m just feeling so much emotions right now because this feels like the light at the end of the prediabetes/obesity tunnel.

[assiconicillnesschronic]

Things have been entirely too exciting around here lately. Cat got sick, diagnosed with cancer and passed. Husband had kidney stones and two e.r visits and general medical red tape to deal with. Son is in finals along with some professor drama. It's been alot and not only have I hit a wall but I've stumbled back up and run into the wall as hard as possible an extra few times. Imagine Wylie Coyote antics.

As mentioned with my son needing a Lyft a few posts back I can't always drive safely. I especially can't drive safely when woken up suddenly in the night. It takes me awhile each morning to figure out what's normal sleepy waking up grogginess vs. brain fog, will nausea go away after I wake up, eat and medicate or if it is just going to be one of those days where I'm sick all day etc. I also have a few pills I need to take in a certain order, some with food, some without and one can't be taken within an hour of coffee or I yak. One of the fastest ways to invoke a migraine, pain, nausea etc is to get off schedule so even when I can help during an emergency I can't always commit to the whole thing.

As such we racked up 120.87 in Lyft fees this week. I am adding that to my medical cost as before I got this sick of course I drove my husband to the E.R when needed. I used to be able to wake up at three am and if it was an emergency the natural adrenaline of "oh shit emergency" would get me wherever I needed to go, whenever I needed to get there.

There are more cost but they are hard to calculate. We spent more in food and household supplies this month. Some of this was to accommodate me. My food is pricey to begin with and when I get any kind of pre-made or convenience food it's just so much money. I'll leave those cost off for now but at some point I'll try to figure out how much extra we spend on food because of me.

Total out of pocket medical spend for 2024 $2,779.19

I did have a wellness visit somewhere in there and that didn't cost me anything. At least it shouldn't. I'll update if I get any surprise bills. My wellness visit went pretty well considering. My A1c is a little up which was disappointing because I work so hard to keep it down but everything else looked same or better and my e.k.g was normal! I don't think I've ever had a normal e.k.g so that was exciting.