#sinus lift surgery

[periony]

5 Reasons Why You May Need a Sinus Lift You generally don't think about your sinuses very much until they become clogged with mucus during cold and allergy season. However, the meandering canals behind your nose, eyes, and cheeks may come into play when you prepare for some dental treatments. Read more: https://writeupcafe.com/5-reasons-why-you-may-need-a-sinus-lift/ https://www.periony.com/sinus-lift-surgery-in-our-midtown-manhattan-nyc-center/

[drgarg-dental-clinic-delhi]

What is a Sinus Lift and Why is it Important for Dental Implants?

In such cases, a sinus lift procedure is advised along with dental implant procedure for upper posterior teeth implant.

[shenu249]

Sinus Lift Surgery Specialist in Delhi

Tooth loss below the sinus causes bone loss allowing the sinus to expand into the area previously occupied by teeth bone. A sinus bone graft or sinus lift surgery is an effective solution. Dr. Garg’s Multispeciality Dental Center provides the best sinus lift surgery facilities in Delhi.

[morganhilldentistry]

A sinus lift surgery refers to the augmentation or lifting up of the maxillary sinus to make more room for new bone. Dental implants are a dental procedure that allows patients to get realistic implanted teeth that function like real teeth. 

However, the success of a dental implant procedure depends upon the mass and quality of the jawbone. Sometimes, the upper jaw lacks the bone mass to place dental implants.

This area is tricky because it is very close to the sinus. Many factors can cause bone loss in the upper jaw and thus make it unfit for dental implants. Read more.

[sarojinirai]

Managing Sinusitis During the Monsoon: A Guide by Dr. Maqsood Ali Khan

The monsoon season brings much-needed relief from the scorching summer heat, but it also comes with its share of health challenges. Among these, sinusitis is a common issue that many people face during the rainy season. The increased humidity, sudden temperature changes, and frequent exposure to rain can exacerbate sinus problems, leading to discomfort and illness. Dr. Maqsood Ali Khan, a renowned ENT specialist at Bombay ENT, shares valuable insights and tips on managing sinusitis during the monsoon season.

Understanding Sinusitis

Sinusitis, also known as a sinus infection, is the inflammation of the tissue lining the sinuses. Healthy sinuses are filled with air, but when they become blocked and filled with fluid, germs can grow and cause an infection. This condition can cause a range of symptoms, including nasal congestion, facial pain or pressure, headache, fever, and a reduced sense of smell.

Why Sinusitis is More Common During Monsoon

The monsoon season creates an environment that can promote the development of sinusitis. Here are some reasons why sinus problems become more prevalent during this time:

Humidity and Moisture: The increased humidity during monsoon can cause the nasal passages to swell and become congested. This creates an ideal environment for bacteria and viruses to thrive.

Allergens: The rainy season can lead to an increase in mold and dust mites, which are common allergens. These allergens can trigger allergic reactions and sinusitis in susceptible individuals.

Temperature Fluctuations: Sudden changes in temperature, such as moving from a cool, air-conditioned room to the warm, humid outdoors, can irritate the nasal passages and sinuses.

Exposure to Rain: Getting drenched in the rain can lead to colds and upper respiratory infections, which can further complicate sinusitis.

Symptoms of Sinusitis

Recognizing the symptoms of sinusitis is crucial for timely treatment. Common symptoms include:

Nasal congestion

Thick, discolored mucus

Facial pain or pressure, especially around the eyes, forehead, and cheeks

Headache

Fever

Cough

Bad breath

Fatigue

Reduced sense of smell and taste

If you experience these symptoms, especially during the monsoon, it is essential to seek medical advice.

Preventive Measures for Sinusitis During Monsoon

Prevention is always better than cure. Here are some tips to prevent sinusitis during the monsoon season:

Stay Dry: Avoid getting wet in the rain. If you do get wet, change into dry clothes as soon as possible to prevent colds and respiratory infections.

Maintain Hygiene: Wash your hands frequently to avoid the spread of germs. Use a hand sanitizer when soap and water are not available.

Use a Humidifier: While excessive humidity can cause problems, using a humidifier indoors can help maintain optimal moisture levels, especially if you are using air conditioning.

Avoid Allergens: Keep your home clean and free from dust and mold. Use allergen-proof mattress and pillow covers, and wash bedding regularly in hot water.

Stay Hydrated: Drink plenty of fluids to keep your nasal passages moist and to thin mucus.

Use Saline Nasal Sprays: Saline sprays can help keep the nasal passages moist and flush out allergens and irritants.

Boost Your Immunity: Eat a balanced diet rich in vitamins and minerals to strengthen your immune system. Regular exercise and adequate sleep also play a crucial role in maintaining good health.

When to See a Doctor

While mild sinusitis can often be managed with home remedies and over-the-counter medications, it is essential to see a doctor if:

Your symptoms last more than 5 days

You have a high fever

You experience severe facial pain or swelling

You have difficulty breathing

You notice changes in your vision

Dr. Maqsood Ali Khan, a top ENT doctor in Mumbai, and the team at Bombay ENT are experienced in diagnosing and treating sinusitis. They can provide personalized treatment plans to help you find relief and prevent complications.

Medical Treatments for Sinusitis

In some cases, medical intervention may be necessary to treat sinusitis effectively. Here are some common treatments:

Decongestants: These medications can help reduce nasal congestion and improve breathing.

Antibiotics: If your sinusitis is caused by a bacterial infection, your doctor may prescribe antibiotics.

Nasal Corticosteroids: These sprays can help reduce inflammation in the nasal passages.

Antihistamines: If allergies are contributing to your sinusitis, antihistamines can help control allergic reactions.

Surgery: In severe cases, surgery may be required to drain the sinuses or remove obstructions.

Lifestyle Changes for Managing Sinusitis

Making certain lifestyle changes can help manage and prevent sinusitis, especially during the monsoon season:

Healthy Diet: Eat a balanced diet rich in fruits, vegetables, and whole grains to support your immune system.

Regular Exercise: Exercise regularly to maintain overall health and improve circulation.

Adequate Sleep: Ensure you get enough sleep to help your body recover and fight infections.

Stress Management: Practice stress-reducing techniques such as yoga, meditation, or deep breathing exercises.

Avoid Smoking: Smoking can irritate the nasal passages and sinuses, making you more susceptible to infections.

Conclusion

Sinusitis can be a challenging condition to manage, especially during the monsoon season. However, with proper preventive measures, home remedies, and medical treatments, you can reduce your risk and alleviate symptoms effectively. Dr. Maqsood Ali Khan, a top ENT surgeon in Mumbai, and the team at Bombay ENT are dedicated to providing comprehensive care and support to help you navigate through the rainy season with ease.

Remember, if you experience persistent or severe symptoms, it is crucial to seek medical advice from a sinus specialist in Mumbai. Early intervention can prevent complications and ensure a quicker recovery. Stay vigilant, take care of your health, and enjoy the monsoon season without the burden of sinusitis.

For more information and personalized care, visit Bombay ENT and schedule a consultation with Dr. Maqsood, a leading sinus specialist doctor in Mumbai, today.

[ayushsharmaaa]

Maxillary Sinus Lift Surgery Cost in India: Everything You Need to Know

Maxillary sinus lift surgery in India, also known as sinus augmentation, is a common dental procedure that involves adding bone to the upper jaw area to support dental implants. This procedure is often necessary when insufficient bone in the upper jaw helps dental implants. India has become a popular destination for maxillary sinus lift surgery due to its affordable prices and world-class facilities. This blog will provide all the information you need about India's maxillary sinus lift surgery costs.

Maxillary Sinus Lift Surgery Cost in India

The cost of maxillary sinus lift surgery in India varies depending on several factors, including the clinic's location, the surgeon's experience, and the procedure's complexity. However, the cost of maxillary sinus lift surgery in India is significantly lower compared to other countries such as the USA, the United Kingdom, and Australia.

The Maxillary Sinus Lift Surgery Cost in India ranges from INR 40,000 to INR 80,000 (approximately USD 540 to USD 1,080). This cost includes the surgeon's fee, anaesthesia fee, and hospital charges.

Why Choose India for Maxillary Sinus Lift Surgery?

There are several reasons why India has become a popular destination for maxillary sinus lift surgery, including:

Cost-effective: As mentioned earlier, the cost of maxillary sinus lift surgery in India is significantly lower compared to other countries, making it an affordable option for patients seeking this procedure.

Experienced Surgeons: India has highly trained and experienced dental surgeons capable of performing complex procedures like maxillary sinus lift surgery.

State-of-the-Art Facilities: Many dental clinics in India have the latest technology and equipment, providing patients with world-class facilities.

Tourism Opportunities: India is a popular tourist destination, allowing patients to combine their dental treatment with a vacation.

[dentalimplantsflowermound]

Sinus lift surgery is a procedure that is applied to increase the amount of bone in the upper jaw. If you do not have enough bone in your upper jaw, you might be a candidate for a sinus lift treatment.

To start the surgery, the oral surgeon makes a cut in the gum tissue to access the bone. The surgeon then elevates the sinus membrane, which is the lining of the sinus cavity and places bone graft material under it. The bone graft material can be synthetic or derived from another part of the client's body.

[pricegouge]

Haul

Part Three MDNI

Master list | on ao3

slasher!trucker!141 x reader

series cw: dark fic. major character deaths, rape/noncon

chapter cw: noncon nudity, noncon touching, graphic depiction of injuries

It takes some test runs, but you eventually figure out your arm and shoulder are okay, though your collar bone likely isn't. You're lucky there - as far as you can feel, if it's fractured at all, it isn't compounded and you'd much rather heal a clavicle than a shoulder. Your cheekbone's fucked though; you can feel how it sinks into your face in a way it never has before, and blood pools in your sinus cavity, infects your saliva. It's likely going to need surgery, though you doubt your current ride is headed to a hospital. If you survive this, you'll end up with a pretty lopsided face, you figure.   If you survive this indeed, though.

You count distance in the taste of fabric on your tongue. As hours and miles pass, the cotton fades from heavy copper, to salt-lick piquant. The trailer heats with the rising sun, metal hull hotboxing you in. The tight space you're kept in is padded, probably for sound proofing though you're almost grateful for it, given how it prevents you from burning yourself on the corrugated siding.

It's hard to guess how much time passes. It feels like days, but the trailer does not go through a cooling cycle, nor do you die of dehydration, so you assume only a handful of hours pass. You spend them drifting in and out of consciousness, wishing you had enough wherewithal to try escaping. Unfortunately, with the heat and the dark comes exhaustion, and with the adrenaline crash comes intense pain so you do little more than catalog injuries when you can concentrate enough to do so. 

It takes some test runs, but you eventually figure out your arm and shoulder are okay, though your collar bone likely isn't. You're lucky there - as far as you can feel, if it's fractured at all, it isn't compounded and you'd much rather heal a clavicle than a shoulder. Your cheekbone's fucked though; you can feel how it sinks into your face in a way it never has before, and blood pools in your sinus cavity, infects your saliva. It's likely going to need surgery, though you doubt your current ride is headed to a hospital. If you survive this, you'll end up with a pretty lopsided face, you figure.  

If you survive this indeed, though.

Poor Ash. She may have been a pain in the ass, but no one deserves to go out like that. It's hard to stop the tears when you think of her but you try anyway, knowing full well that further inflaming your face isn't going to do anyone any good. You wonder why they kept you alive - why Ash didn't make the cut. Or, did, you suppose. Maybe they felt two victims would have been too difficult to deal with. Maybe they thought Ash, who was still able to get around quite well, would've been too much of a handful. 

Maybe you're trying to reason with hurricane season, as it were, find rationality where there was none. These men were motivated by something you'd never understand and perhaps it was best not to waste your efforts on it. Still, it's hard to move past Simon and Gaz's brief exchange. 

'For cap?'

'For all of us.'

The thought of being shared by them made your stomach turn, but the thought that there was another one - one they evidently often brought victims back home to - that was even worse.

'Captain,' you sneer. You can't help but picture some old geezer who couldn't pull his own victims anymore; real Texas Chainsaw shit. The boys would probably have to hold you down so he could wax poetic at you about what a good hauler he used to be, help him lift a tire iron so he could get his rocks off. It would be enough to make you laugh, if it didn't feel like the tire iron was already whaling on you.

Still, you suppose knowing your fate lies with an old man and his lackeys is better than the alternative; even in your current state you know a truck with a soundproofed false back generally spells human trafficking for anyone with the misfortune to find themselves stuck in one. Your prospect doesn't make you happy by any means, but you suppose the enemy you know is better. Even if that enemy is a group of known killers. 

It's not too long after the trailer starts to cool that the quality of the roads changes; long, smooth interstate giving way to potholed, winding highway. You grit your teeth each time you're jostled, groan every time you remember your jaw is actually your biggest source of pain. 

The passiveness with which you wonder about our whereabouts surprises you, but you're so exhausted you don't hold yourself too accountable for that. It's not until the truck slows to a stop that you sit up straighter, heartbeat hammering when the back up alarm confirms your fears that you have arrived at your destination. They let you sit for a while after. Long enough to get cold. There's the occasional sound of air brakes firing and you figure you're in some sort of lot. You try yelling for help a few times, but between the gag in your mouth and the soundproofing around you, your cries go unanswered.

At least you hope that's the reason. Otherwise this entire lot is filled with people who are in on this potential trafficking ring and Simon's words echo even more ominously in your ears. 

A quiet rattling form the end of the trailer tells you when they open the doors hours later. The truck engine roars to life seconds after, backing up the final few feet necessary to slam into the loading dock hard enough to make a gruff voice from within yell. 

It's unfamiliar, makes you steady yourself harder against the unknown quality of it. You figure this must be Cap, feel some small sense of satisfaction when the old, ragged voice matches what you'd pictured. You listen intently as pallets are cleared away, the loud clatter of the jack ringing even through your soundproofing. There's a lower murmur of laughter, the boys regaling the older man with a story you can't quite hear but can definitely infer. When the truck is fully unloaded, their heavy boots tread the short runway - Johnny's truck, then; you'd wondered who you'd been riding with -, their voices coming clearer as they draw near. 

"- banged up, but mostly from the crash," you hear Simon rumble. 

Johnny's next, his grating brogue echoing within the trailer, "Well, except her nose. We can thank Gaz for that one."

"She can thank herself for it," Gaz snarks back, and you would bite your tongue if you could. There's a beat of silence. You can almost feel the heavy gaze their silent captain turns on Gaz, prompting him to elaborate, "She ran. Not very fast. When I caught up, she tried bite me so I headbutted her a little."

"A little!?" Johnny cries, but is cut off by a gruff scoff.

"No way to treat our new guest, Kyle. Go on, make it up to her. Bring her out here."

You expect something dramatic, like a flood of blinding light or strong hands reaching in to yank you out. Instead, when the panel is pulled back, the indirect light from the building is mostly blocked by the row of bodies in front of you, and Gaz squats off to the side, body language friendly and inviting despite the coldness you can feel radiating from him. This man hates you, you can feel it. You remember how he wanted to kill you, wish you could tell him the feeling was mutual. Rather, you stare at him loathingly until he tires of your inaction, leans in to grab you by the zip ties that bind your feet and cuts them with a knife you didn't even see him pull. When he grabs your wrists and pulls, you resist as much as you're able but in the end you're no match and he pulls you from your hideaway with little more than a grunt of pain and annoyance when you elbow him in the ribs.

"Feisty one, is she?" the captain's low growl observes and you turn to the newcomer with fury in your eyes which stalls out when you take him in properly for the first time.

You're disappointed to discover he's not as old as you'd been expecting. Nowhere near, in fact. Mid forties most likely, early fifties at absolute most. And densely built enough to speak of a physicality far younger. None of them were small, but the captain still managed to look big among them - nearly as tall as Simon and just as broad as Johnny, though it looked a little leaner on him given his height. You think the worst part about him is how genial he looks. Like Gaz, he's a brand of handsome that comes with charm and approachability, and you wonder how long it will take for that facade to crack like Gaz's did. Worse, if it ever will.

Certainly, his voice is disarmingly sweet when he greets you, coos and calls you a dove. "Weren't lying were they, love? Did a number on the poor girl, Ghost."

Simon - Ghost? - grunts in acknowledgement, motions for you to step closer. You don't, of course, and get a sharp shove from Gaz which sends you stumbling toward the larger men, caught by a firm hand on your bad shoulder. You yelp, breath heaving behind your gag as Cap adjusts his grip, studying you by your hip instead as his eyes dart to Simon.

"Shoulder. Maybe collar bone. Happened when she flipped her car." When you flipped it. Right.

The older man tuts dissapprovingly. You try to swat his hands away but stumble without his support. He ignores you anyway, hand returning easily while the other reaches up to carefully grip the edge of the duct tape. "Can't be easy to breathe in there, can it doll? Not with that poor nose. Let's get this off, shall we? Easy," he soothes, voice a low pur. His task hurts like hell anyway, the sticky strip pulling your tender, swollen skin. He's gentle about it at least, murmuring sympathetically when you can't contain your whimpers. You don't judge yourself too harshly when a few tears slip through, but do very much so when his thumbing them away twists your stomach unexpectedly. 

It's just because you haven't seen tenderness all night, you reason, and resolve yourself against him, even as he removes the gag with utmost delicacy.

"That better, dove?" he asks when your breaths come quicker, deeper. It's like resurfacing after being submerged for too long, clarity coming to you like a cold breeze on soaked skin: this is a calm meant to put you at ease, but you will die here if you become complacent.

So when Cap tells you to call him John and asks what your name is, you spit at him, blood and mucus staining his shoes.

The boys go quiet, like a record scratch moment in an old b-movie. You stare up at John defiantly, waiting for him to scream at you, hit you - anything.

Instead, he just pulls a pocket knife from his pants, grabs your bindings when you go to flinch away. "You've had a long day, love," he starts as he slips the thin blade between your wrists. Your skin is tender there, rubbed raw from the tight binds. The cool blade feels sharp despite the care he takes to aim the edge away from you, never once letting it touch your skin. "You've had a long day, so I'm going to let you get away with that this time." When he pulls against the zip ties, they cut into your skin briefly before giving with a sharp twang. He pulls one of your wrists into his free hand, rubs the raw skin there with a calloused palm before taking the other wrist in his grasp and giving it the same treatment. "But the next time you misbehave will not go well for you. Understood?"

Of course, you don't listen. Fuck this guy for real, you figure. What's the worst he can do? Kill you?

This time, when you go to spit at him, he catches it against his palm, wide hand slapping over your mouth so hard you're breifly concerned for your good cheek. You gasp in shock and pain, nearly choking on your own spit. John steps closer, one boot knocking your foot wide to let himself between your legs. He's so close, if he moved his palm you'd be breathing the same air.

As it stands, you can barely breathe at all, nose flush against the fat side of his hand. His own breath fans across your skin, heavy and hot as a bellows. The quality of it is thick, humid. You're glad you can't smell anything because it feels like it reeks. 

"Simon, she give you a name?"

Ghost's uncomfortable movement is obvious in its silence. "Took to calling 'er Betty."

"Betty," John repeats, lips curling in amusement. "Like an old timey, proper little wife. That you, pet?" You wanna shake your head, fear for your sinus cavity if you do. "Not yet, eh? Gonna have to train you up first. Ease you into it." As if in demonstration, his body sags into your own, presence oppressive. "That's okay, pet. We'll start you off easy. Get you nice and clean, get you fed. In the morning, Kyle will help with your injuries and when you feel more like a proper lady, we'll try again, hm?"

You can't say anything, so you don't.

"But in the meantime, I can't let that kind of behavior go unchecked. Boys," he calls, eyes still boring into you. "Which one of you wants to help our guest clean up?"

The general din of excitement makes you flinch, eyes going wide as if pleading with the man who holds you so cruelly will do any good. When Johnny suggests they play rock paper scissors to decide who gets the honors, it's suddenly, belatedly clear to you that your murder would almost be a kindness. No, the worst thing this man could do for you would be to keep you. John sees it the moment you realize this. His grip eases, eyes softening in some gross perversion of kindness. He strokes your cheek soothingly when Simon goes out in the first round, smiles condescendingly when you flinch at Johnny's crow of victory. John tuts at you, but says no more as he turns you toward the Scot.

"All yours, Soap," he rumbles, pushing you not ungently toward the other man. "Spic and span, you hear?"

"Aye, sir. Thank ye, sir." Johnny's hands are much harsher than John's when he guides you from the trailer, giving you no sympathy when you flinch under the harsh warehouse lighting. You try to take stock of your surroundings as you're pulled along: spare, dusty racking; a forklift in need of repair. There are multiple loading docks, most of the viewports obscured by backed up trucks. One sits vacant and you briefly wonder if there's even more of these monsters waiting in the wings before you're pulled past a dank little office. You catch sight of outdated equipment - a rolodex, a CB - but it's the shadow boxes full of military honors that your eyes lock on the longest.

Of fucking course.

The door Johnny leads you out through is tucked off the side of the building. You stumble when he pulls you down through the door, feet unsteady where they kick up dirt. It's cold outside, colder than it had been in the dankness of the trailer. You can't help but shiver, bite your tongue as best you can when your companion takes that as invitation to draw you in close and rub a big, solid hand up your arm. 

"We'll have ye warmed up in no time, lass," he promises, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. This man murdered your friend with a crowbar and dragged her around like a slaughtered animal. You expect no kindness from him. 

He orders you to strip before turning to a small station built into the side of the warehouse. You do not strip, electing instead to take off running in the opposite direction, cursing as the gravel churns loudly under your shoes. Soap swears, his own heavy boots following at a pace you didn't think his burly body capable of. Your breaths burn your chest, each pull coming labored in your blind panic but you refuse to slow or relent, ignoring the flaming pain in your shoulder every time you swing your arm forward for propulsion.

Well, you ignore it until the ground comes tilting up to meet you, your body crushed beneath the considerable weight of one grunting, cursing Scot. You sob at the pain, or maybe the fear - hard to tell. When he levers himself off you, he wastes no time grabbing your ankle as he stands up, towering over you. If you were capable of stringing two thoughts together, you'd wonder if this was the last thing Ash saw: pale blue eyes gleaming in the low light, the cruelty that twists his face. Instead you wonder how likely your arm is to maintain full mobility after a night like this. 

Not very, you decide, sobbing in pain as he drags you back to the warehouse. He's muttering something above you, but you can't hear him over your own cries. When you kick at him futilely, he yanks on your ankle until you fear for it and you don't try it again. Not even when he gets you where he wants you, back under the wan outdoor lighting of the station he'd turned to before, crouching down next to you to rip at your shoelaces.

"Please, don't," you murmur instead, fear churning in your belly as he continues to strip you. You'd known it would come to this, known the moment the captain had mentioned something about a wife. It doesn't make it easier, doesn't make the prospect of the gritty sand underneath you any more comfortable, or your repulsion for the man above you any less sharp. "Please, please, please let me go. I could -."

"What? Suck me off?" Soap laughs harshly, "Think ah'm gonnae ge' tha' anyway, hen."

You were going to say keep your mouth shut, but you suppose that never works anyway.

The sound you make when he pulls your pants off is wretched, but the shriek he earns when he pulls a knife on you is worse. His laugh is mean, reveling in your fear for a moment before cutting your shirt from you with one deft movement. He's pulling you to your feet before you can really process why and shoving you against the metal siding of the warehouse.

"Stay there," he warns and you're unsure if his tone or the throb in your shoulder is a more effective threat. When he walks back toward the station he'd been after earlier, your gaze turns to follow until you catch sight of your own shoulder at the bottom of your field of view and you draw short, taking in the severe swelling there. You prod at the edges of the mottling, wincing at your own ministrations. 

Absorbed in your own injuries, you don't notice when Soap turns on the spigot, or when he aims the nozzle of the high pressure hose at you. He calls for you to hold your breath, but gives you no more time than that which is necessary to look up, confused, before he's spraying you down.

It's freezing, the flow hard enough to bruise where it jets against the fatty bits of you; feels like it might sheer straight through hide where your skin thins around joints. You gasp, get a mouthful of aerated hose water. Spluttering, you try blocking the stream with your hands despite it feeling like your palms are being struck by a thousand rulers.

"S'wha' we use tae wash the trucks!" Soap calls, cackling loud enough to be heard over the spray that engulfs you. You can't get away from it no matter how much you fold into yourself, catching the jet alternatingly on your hip, your ribs, your ass. It does a better job of indexing your injuries than you did, the blooms of pain where you accidentally turn a bruise toward it letting you know that the hip which took the brunt of the collision is sore, that there's a spot on your good shoulder where Gaz tackled you which smarts. Your knees and elbows are all scuffed up, dirt grinding in before being stripped away. You feel like you're being sandpapered down; buffed until you're gleaming despite knowing how the dirt he kicks up clings to your skin wherever the hose isn't actively being pointed.

Soap keeps it up for another minute or so, only turning it off when your shaking gets so bad you think you're like to fall apart. "Quit yer whinging," he warns, creeping closer as he adjusts the nozzle to another setting. "Jes' havin' a laugh, bonnie, no need tae get all bent outta shape."

You want to tell him you're not laughing, but a small voice in your head says you should be grateful he didn't turn that hose on your face, so you keep quiet to prevent him getting any ideas.

When he's close enough to touch, Soap reaches out and grabs your wrist, spraying your pebbled skin down with a softer shower of water that would set you at ease, if not for how cold it is. From your arm, the stream moves up over your head, mussing your hair beyond recognition before trickling down your battered face. Here, the cold water feels good against heated skin and despite yourself, you heave a sigh of relief, tilting slightly into the unexpected relief. 

"Like tha' hen?" he asks, and you hesitate briefly, wondering how much satisfaction you want to give him. He doesn't give you a chance to decide, ruining your brief moment of reprieve by reaching out and tweaking one hard nipple.

You squawk, swatting at him. Johnny laughs long and loud, letting the stream from the hose fall dead as he watches you fume, shaking.

"Look like one ah them wee doggies, lass," he chuckles, "angry cause ye cannae even bite properly." The bastard flicks your cheek, feigning a sympathetic coo when you flinch away. "Tha's righ', bonnie, nothin' ye can do tae fight back," he murmurs, gliding his fingertips against your cheek in a move he probably thinks is soothing. "Ye jes' remember tha', eh? Might keep you alive."

You swallow back the lump in your throat, eyes boring a hole into his shoulder because you can't stand to look him in his terribly cold eyes. When Johnny moves again, his touches are back to the easy, soft caresses from before as he hoses you down. He's surprisingly good at it, despite being armed with only a shammy and a gnarly looking bar of soap. At least he knows to avoid your hair once he realizes he'll need conditioner. That damage is already done, but you appreciate him not dragging his fucking fingers through it on top of everything else. You try taking the soap from him once but he just tuts at you warningly so you go back to shivering, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to preserve body heat and keep yourself marginally modest. You can't decide if he's being obstinately particular just to torment you longer or if he's genuinely just like this until he raises your good arm above your head and finds your armpit overgrown.

He grins, sending you a delightfully scandalized look. "See Ghost chose well. Cap's gonnae love ye," he chuckles, and you feel your panic heighten when you think of the threatening older man again. Soap notices. "No need tae worry, hen. You jes' keep bein' good fer us and Cap'll be good tae ye."

For some reason, you don't trust this man's definition of being treated well.

After getting you all washed up, Johnny marches you back into the warehouse where the other men gather around a small, dingy breakroom table pecking at microwaved burritos. They're laughing uproariously as you arrive, Gaz talking animatedly about a loading mishap back in Arizona. The noise drifts off when they spot you, eying you over like a scrap of meat. There's no covering everything and despite yourself, you're almost grateful when John stands, bringing you a blanket he had folded on the seat beside himself. 

"Feeling better, doll?" he asks, patting you dry with a gentleness you didn't expect from the big man. He frowns at the swelling of your shoulder, eyes darting between you and it with an exaggerated level of concern that makes you want to hurl.

You avoid his gaze, your own flickering around the room as you ignore John, trying to gather your resolve enough to appease him. It's a struggle until your eyes find Simon's, apathetic as always despite the disapproving set of his scarred mouth. 

"Yes, sir," you murmur, watching raptly as Simon disguises a quick nod as a glance at his plate. Your heart rate picks up, an impossible tendril of hope slithering up your aorta when John hums contentedly at your words.

"That's a girl, love," he starts, warm palm falling heavy on your back as he starts to guide you back through the warehouse. "Gaz, bring the soup. You're hungry, right pet?"

You are, but Gaz doesn't wait for confirmation, falling in stride as John guides you toward the quaint office you'd caught a glimpse of earlier.

"Now, one day, you'll be able to stay up here with us," John promises, gesturing magnanimously across the dingy warehouse as if it contained all the gold of El Dorado within its rickety racking. "But until then, we're going to have to keep you below." 

Gait faltering, you glance up at the older man fearfully but he pays you no mind at all. "Don't worry honey, only temporary. And I'll have the boys visit you daily to keep you nice and stimulated, hm? Gaz," he barks before you can reflect too much on his choice of words. Kyle, evidently knowing exactly what's expected of him, places the soup bowl he's been carrying on the cluttered desk before moving some chairs, rolling the rug back enough to reveal a cutaway door in the cement slab.

You still, every muscle in your body tensing up when John tries to coax you along. "'S'not so bad, sweetheart, I promise. Come look, yeah? Think you'll have a nice little time if you just give it a try."

Like hell you'll give it a try, knees locking up so tight you look like a GI Joe when John guides you first down the stairs. It's cool, the descent marked by the wet gradient of the cement slab as you pass further underground. It's deeper than you'd expect, the dug dirt bottom damp under your feet when you alight on the landing. There's a short hall ahead, braced by rotted-looking timber. A lone door on the opposite end, braced on one side with a long line of bolts and locks. A single light hangs from the short ceiling, low enough you could smack your forehead off of it if you're not careful. 

"Had Simon come down while you were out, get it nice and ready for you," John brags. You doubt the room on the other side of that door could be made live-in ready even if Simon had been given three years to work on it, but you know better than to say as much. 

This time, when John prods you forward, your legs don't obey. "CanIsleepwithyou?" you blurt, a last ditch effort you're not sure you want him to accept.

But John just chuckles. "Eager, eh pet? Don't worry, you'll earn that right soon enough. Now go on, I'm sure you'd like some nice new clothes to put on, hm?"

Damn him, but you do, so you slink forward, ducking under the hanging light as you pass. The door creaks when you pull it open, weight heavy despite how meager it looks. It feels solid, unbreakable, and you notice quickly that you won't be able to barricade it if you have to pull it open. John does not notice your hesitance, following you into the room with a proud little smirk on his mustached face.

"Well, what do you think?" 

Not much. The floor isn't finished, just cold tile pressed into the dirt. The walls and ceilings are, though, and you briefly feel grateful for it until the batting on the door registers and you realize it's for soundproofing purposes. There's a bed in the corner, larger than you need yourself and made up in cutesy sheets with a strawberry motif. A pile of heavy quilts sits folded at the foot and despite yourself, your fingers twitch eagerly at the prospect of sleeping soon, warm and snug under all that weight. 

"We've got some clothes for you here," John continues. You get the feeling he doesn't need a lot of input so you stand there quietly as he opens a foot locker for you, tattered and olive green. Inside sit two neat stacks of clothes, battered looking but approximately the right size. You remember Johnny's comment about the Captain liking your pits and wonder if they always bring him back a certain type.

And if so, where they are.

"G'on love, pick out something you like," John leers, and you realize you won't be able to get away with waiting until he and Kyle leave to get dressed. 

There's a marked efficiency to your movements. Grabbing the first top you see, you briefly check the tag before doing the same with the bottoms at the top of the pile. Close enough for rock and roll, you figure, dropping your blanket to the cold floor and pulling the clothes onto yourself as quickly as possible. Kyle's eyes are heavy, John's heavier. Your skin crawls, the goosebumps which never really went away after your little bath returning with a vengeance. To your immense displeasure, John has to help you pull your bad arm through the sleeve and he tuts sympathetically when you whine.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'll bring you down some button ups tomorrow, yeah? You nod when he pauses too long, realizing you're not going to be let off the hook without a proper answer. You creep toward the bed when he hums in acknowledgement, but he tuts in warning again, nodding toward a little desk shoved off to the side of the room. You sit obediently, thanking him with a little murmur when he ferries the bowl of soup from Gaz to you. He hovers, watching raptly until you bring a spoonful of the room temperature meal to your mouth. 

"Good, right?" he asks, before you can even get a proper taste of it. 

You take your time swallowing, playing up the pain in your cheek as you try to suss out a good response. It's just microwaved soup as far as you can tell, but you figure saying as much won't garner you any favors. Instead, you hum appreciatively and shovel in another bite before John can ask you any more questions.

It works, mostly. John takes a quick lap around the room instead of standing over you, sighing now and again at whatever he finds while Gaz continues to stand in the doorway, evidently unamused. 

"It needs work, I'll give you that," John eventually concedes as you slurp at your meal. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until that sweet sweet MSG hit your tongue. "It needs work, but if you're good, we can spend some time down here fixing it up for you. Would you like that?"

You stall, spooning through some of the chunkier bits at the bottom of your bowl. It was kind of them to give you soup, you registered belatedly. Solid foods would have undoubtedly fucked up your mouth. Instead of answering, you ask John what would happen if you were to be bad and watch as his genial nature flips like a switch.

"Got a couple of news articles upstairs if you'd like to read 'em and find out."

Next>>

[vodika-vibes]

Better Together - A Gryffin Industries AU

Summary: You spend a morning with Tup.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Tup x Reader

Word Count: 1278

Warnings: Some medical stuff

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: My guests finally left! Woo! But I also got very sick. Not Woo. The opposite of woo. So this is the only story for today while I try to beat my migraine and sinus headache into submission. Also, I think this is a GN reader, but It might not be.

You wake up alone. The bed next to you is cool, suggesting that Tup, your Tup, has long since abandoned sleep and is somewhere else in your shared home. 

Groggily, you lift your head so you’re able to peer at the bedroom door, and you sigh when you see dim light flickering from under the door. You flop back down to you pillow and, for a moment, you consider going back to sleep.

But only for a moment.

You flip the thick comforter to the side, and swing your legs off the bed, before you slowly meander out of the bedroom. You wander down the hall and into the living room, where Tup is stretched out on the couch, his gaze locked on some kind of cooking show.

“Tup-” You yawn before you’re able to finish your sentence.

“Ah, cyare.” Tup sits up and favors you with a soft smile, “Did I wake you?”

You squint at him, “No. I woke up and you were awake though.” You yawn again and wipe the sleep out of your eyes, before you focus your gaze on him, “Did you have a migraine?”

He laughs softly, “Guilty.”

“You took your medicine?”

“I did. You don’t have to worry about me, cyar’ika.” Tup’s voice is warm and inviting, like a thick blanket on a cold night. So you don’t hesitate to circle the couch to settle on the couch next to him.

His hair is still loose, so you lightly brush some of his curls out of his face and then lightly cup his cheek, “Do you need anything?”

Tup presses his hand over yours, and turns his head to press a light kiss against your palm, “I’m good.” He replies against your hand, “I promise.” Slowly he sits up, careful to not dislodge you from the couch and he lightly bumps his forehead against yours, and his hands come up to cup your face.

A soft hum falls from you as you lean into his touch. 

You love him so much. You hope he knows.

“What do you want for breakfast, cyare?” Tup asks.

“You don’t have to cook for me, Tup.” 

“I want to.” He pulls back and presses several light kisses against your cheeks, “I like cooking for you.”

“Mm…pancakes would be amazing.” You finally reply with a soft laugh.

“A fine choice.” Tup kisses you quickly, and you whine when he pulls away rather than deepening the kiss. He laughs and taps your nose, “You won’t get any pancakes if you distract me.”

You pout dramatically, but pull away to allow him to swing his feet to the floor. 

And you watch as he pushes to his feet and meanders his way into the kitchen.

Several years ago, when you were just a new intern at Gryffin Industries, Tup was delivered to the facility you were interning at by a pair of Kaminoans. He was unconscious, and nothing you did would rouse him.

You, and the Doctor you interned under, feared that he was already dead. In fact, the doctor gave up on Tup as a lost cause.

You didn’t.

You spent long nights at his bedside with a medical droid, running scan after scan, doing blood work daily.

And eventually you found it.

A small chip located on his brain. And you knew, without running any more tests, that it was the chip’s fault that Tup was in this condition. But no matter which doctor you mentioned it to, no one would listen to you.

When you got word that the facility was going to take Tup off of life support, to let him die with dignity, you panicked.

You knew, knew, that if the chip was removed he would recover with treatment. 

So you did what you had to. You locked yourself in his hospital room with a pair of medical droids and everything that they might need to remove the chip, and you made it so no one else could come into the room.

And while the droids performed the surgery, you sat at the door, resealing it every time someone tried to open it. It took hours.

You knew that you were probably going to get fired, if not just arrested, but when the chip was removed and bacta was applied, and Tup’s vitals started improving, you knew it was worth it.

And when the door opened, and the Head of Gryffin Industries Medical Division stepped into the room, all you could do was blurt out that he can recover with treatment now that the chip was removed, and that they can’t just let him die.

The Head Doctor took one look at Tup, at the chip, at all of the scans and tests you did…and hired you on the spot. And then he took you and Tup back to the main facility with him. 

Tup remained in a coma for two months, and during those two months you remained his primary caretaker. You insisted. And no amount of reassuring would convince you that he was going to be treated if you looked away.

You didn’t know him, but you also knew him better than you’ve ever known anyone in your life. 

And then, one day, you stepped into his room, and he was sitting up in bed. He smiled at you and you knew right then that he was the happy ending you’ve always wanted.

“Cyare~”

You pull yourself out of your memory and glance up at Tup, “Hm?”

“You didn’t hear a thing I just said, did you?” Tup asks with a grin. 

“I did! But…you should remind me anyway.” You reply with a sheepish smile.

He grins, “What kind of pancakes do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Deal,” Tup’s grin widens as you hop to your feet and hurry into the kitchen, “So, what were you thinking about so deeply?”

“The day you woke up.”

“Oh?” Tup moves back to the counter and you’re pretty sure you see him add chocolate chips to the pancake batter, “You know, I found myself thinking about that recently too.”

“Really?” You ask, as you slide into a chair and watch him work.

“Really.” He glances at you over his shoulder, “One of the medical droids told me how you locked us in a room and had the droids remove my chip while you stalled the doctors because they gave up on me.”

“Yeah, well…they were dumb.” You huff.

Tup laughs, “You want to know what I thought when I heard that?”

“I can guess. ‘Man what a dumbass-’.”

“No. I thought, ‘Man, I hope I recover enough that I’m able to kiss her’.”

“You didn’t know me at the time!”

“I knew that you cared enough to risk your career and your freedom for me. That’s deserving of at least one kiss. Maybe two.” Tup winks at you and pours the batter into the pan, before he turns to look at you. “And now look at us, disgustingly domestic.”

“I happen to like disgustingly domestic, I’ll have you know.”

Tup opens his arms, and you immediately stand and slide into his welcoming hug, “Oh, I do too.” He kisses the top of your head, “I’ll never be able to tell you how much you mean to me.”

“You do a pretty good job of showing it, love.”

His arms tighten around you, “I love you.” Tup breathes against the top of your head, “There isn’t an amount large enough to encompass how much I love you.”

You smile and press your face against his chest, “Well, if you love me even half as much as I love you, then I know exactly how you feel.”

[periony]

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Health recap, I guess? 2019 to present, because I'm so frustrated with my health atm.

Early 2019, I started with wrist pain whenever I used my hand to push on something. Nobody could figure it out. Did OT without much help. Was told it is "probably functional" but lost ability to do things I love, including lift weights and do yoga.

End of 2019, I got sick with an upper respiratory infection. I get colds periodically like everybody else. Nothing new.

URI did the whole "got better, then it got worse" thing and turned into a sinus infection and then my First Ever Ear Infection.

Went into urgent care; was given... some... antibiotic. I don't even remember the class. When this helped but didn't resolve, and the URI progressed to a cough and lower respiratory stuff, I was put on another antibiotic of a different class.

Eventually that antibiotic cleared it up, but I had a terrible cough for a few months. Also. Finally see a new psychiatrist who puts me on Wellbutrin and I feel so much better emotionally. Not physically.

Enter in COVID! I was working in a derm clinic and had to take my temp multiple times a day. We found I was persistently having fevers! Yay! I also was tremulous, nauseous, and lost weight unintentionally. This was on top of a couple year history of significant whole-body pruritis. Concern is something cancer.

Provider I worked for ordered labs while I waited to get into my PCP. My TSH was marginally high, which was unexpected. My PCP called and was like "let's put you on levo!" to which I said no, let's not, because I'm not presenting with any hypothyroid symptoms. I requested repeat TSH plus additional thyroid tests eg T3/T4.

Those came back normal, PCP was all "its a good thing I didn't start you on meds" like ma'am no, it's a good thing I had some medical knowledge and thusly refused and pushed for repeat studies. My PCP did not additional workup and took my temp via forehead scanner and was all "you're perfectly healthy."

Moved, and thus I needed a new PCP. New PCP did more extensive workup.

Start grad school fall of 2020. Can't focus well, suspect ADHD because my sister has ADHD and my historical depression, which I've blamed all my previous focus issues, is well-treated with Wellbutrin. PCP agrees but because of fevers doesn't think it's a good idea to start a new med yet.

Everything negative/clear/normal, including peripheral blood smear, blood culture, and chest and abdominal CT.

"Well, the next step would be a bone marrow biopsy..."

That sounds painful, no thanks. If it's something insidious, it'll eventually show up on routine labs and then we can do the biopsy. I continue to have fever and ear pain (even when my ears look "clear") and recurrent ear infections. I notice my hair is thinning too, and I keep getting recurrent scalp infections, but oh well. School goes fine even if I can't focus well, so I ignore that, too.

I figure out that my wrist pain is a ganglion cyst that nobody noticed because it didn't grow "up" but snaked its way through bones so it took 2 years for a "bump" to present. Had surgery to remove it in early-Mid 2021.

Constant stuffy nose starts in 2021, but my husband's hips died in mid 2021 and I focused more on him initially. I still can't focus and my nose is so stuffy it interferes with sleep.

Enter into a long discussion with my PCP where she refuses to acknowledge that I might have ADHD and thinks it's from my nose + inability to sleep. We try to treat it. Nothing works. Still. Stuffy.

Apply to medical school. Worried about ADHD and being able to focus and learn. Therapist who I've been working with since Husband's hips agrees it is ADHD but can't medically treat. Referred to testing because maybe if I have an actual diagnosis, my PCP would treat.

Diagnosed with ADHD + autism. Clinician assessor told me that my PCP's office doesn't usually "accept" his diagnoses.

Go to a PMHNP instead who won't prescribe stimulants without assessment from a specific neuropsych.

Placed on Strattera while I wait for neuropsych results. It's terrible. Fevers spike, I'm shaking all the time, can't sleep, like no change in focus. 0/10.

Do assessment with neuropsych. Only did some self-rating scales + the WAIS. WAIS test is voided because I've done it too recently. I still have to pay.

PMHNP finally says she won't make me go through any more hoops and we try Vyvanse. Vyvanse is amazing. I barely have any exacerbation of anything physical even.

Start medical school, things are OK and stable.

A few weeks into school (probably like, 6 weeks after starting the vyvanse, if it matters). I start feeling unwell and dizzy and like my eyes can't focus well, and I can't bring myself to eat. I figure I just need more hydration + electrolytes. Eat more salt, do better.

Two months into med school, everything flares. My scalp flares, I end up with a staph aureus infection not just on my scalp but by both of my ears, neck, and even a small abscess on my arm.

Treated for the staph but two weeks later develop widespread myalgias. Start taking daily Aleve to manage.

Fever is flaring without any particular pattern during this process.

Losing so much hair in the shower and in clumps. Husband can't find discrete lesions of baldness. I look at the hair and they are all telogen stage. Decide it's probably telogen effluvium from the stress of school.

Myalgias get progressively worse until I am in so much pain just sitting in class that if I forget Aleve for just one day, I'm almost crying and can only focus on the pain.

Finally decide to get another appoint with my PCP. It's in 2 weeks.

Why did I wait so long to see my PCP again? Because I am fat with a history of a restrictive eating disorder and I am absolutely petrified I will be labeled once again as the Overly Anxious Fat Woman that "just needs to meditate and lose some weight," and that when I bring up my new diagnoses and meds, I'll be told I "can't possibly be autistic" because I'm in med school and "present myself well" nor can I have ADHD because clearly I'm just an overly anxious fat woman.

[annunnaki7]

ARE DISSABLED PEOPLE LAZY? COULD REALLY DO BETTER IF THEY TRIED HARDER? This is an example of an average bad week, like 6/10 bad on mental health and 5/10 on the physical level. Oh yea it gets so much worst! Read this and tell me how I could have improved.  

MAY 2023 

Sat 29.04.23 

-Asthma bad all night. I coughed myself awake so often I didn't get any deep sleep. 

-Fibromyalgia not happy about this, and is flaring up on its way to STOPPING FLARING up instead! 🤬 Joy! So now going to pee has extra general pain added to it. 

- Allergies & Sinus bad. My nose runs non stop. Used 1/2 roll of toilet paper blowing my nose just today. And no, I don't like waisting things. Throwing meds at it. 

-Managed to work with my carer, sorting paperwork. I can't help with much else anymore. I don't have the hand strength to cut a carrot. That's annoying as taking away from my autonomy. 

Sun 30.04.23

- Allergies & Sinus still bad with non stop daily headaches, with migraine sometimes.

-Fibromyralgia flare. Pain feels like I feel down badement cement stairs or  when I had major surgery on day 3 with 5 days hospital stay. I'm in too much pain to eat. Exhaustion worst than Covid & Pneumonia! 

-Asthma bad. I have to rest for 1 minute every 10-15 meters I walk. Going to the loo takes 5 breaks.

- Urinary incontinence dissability related not happy about so many breaks to get TO the loo. I need buy more trousers! (I used 3 in one day twice this week)

- I'm in so much exhaustion & pain I can't even face watching TV. Strong painkillers increased. I'm not happy. I was hoping to decrease them this week! 

Mon 01.05.23 

-Migraine. 

-Sinus inflamed for past 4 weeks. Related to but not only cause of migraine. I'm a migraine sufferer.

-Fibromyalgia medium flare. Hands hurt as well as eveywere else. A plate is heavy to lift. I can't stab potatoes to zap them in microwave by myself. 

-Hayfever slightly improving.

-If I didn't have a carer coming to help me with a wash, I don't know how I would cope.She helped more today. She's so nice. People don't appreciate them enough.

-Concerned how I'll make hospital appointment of Thursday. And got builders in tomorrow. 

Tuesday 02.05.23

-Migraine at night. 

-All body pain bad. Been worst before though. 

-Builders poped in to say they'll be back tomorrow. And no neither owner nor estate agents told them about all the work needing doing. 

- This is in fact my comparativly, the "best day" to date. I can't sit in a chair re pain. And I have a high pain threshold. Had major surgery and got up by myself the next day when everyone else did on the 3rd day with help. Nurses said it was shocking to see me trot - carefully -  about.

- Hospital appointment of tomorrow changed for latter on. It's not a vital one. 

-District Nurse popped in to assess if I need to worry re swealing in legs. I'll have to go to the specialist clinic after all. 

-Blood Pressure still high & Pulse going nuts. Say hi to all types of allergies as a possible cause! I take the strongest anti histamin, plus 6 over the counter allergy tablets daily. Yep, the specialist doctors advised that. It stop skin for literally falling off and other horror stories! 

Wed 03.05.23 

-Vomited blood all night (5hrs of hurling on off) from ulcer, blood clots included! Yuck! 3rd time in 1 month.

-Day Migraine following as haven't been able to drink much 

-Im past normal exhausted as part of Fibromyalgia. It feels like I did a 14hr shift and haven't slep the next 2 nights. (Yes, I've done that in the past. Joy of nursing & midwifery whilst having dissabilities)

- Spoke to GP, meds increased. I don't want another endoscopy. Don't see what else it will tell us. It's costly to the NHS, I'm going to be in so much pain for at least 2 weeks after due to dissability, not the test. Urinary incontinence will be a pain. I'm not even for resuscitation (DNR) anyways. 

-Not hungry. Disordered eating means it will kick in if I can't eat at all today. Gods even cake don't sound appealing!

- Builders back. Same thing, back tomorrow instead. But now they got the list of job. 

-District Nurse decided I need compression stockings! My severe eczema might not like the extra heat in summer! & Scratchy material.

-Migraine afternoon - nightime.

-Did eat eventually. Yea me! 

Thursday 04.05.23

-Food helped with migraine & dissorted eating. 

- Pain and extreme exhaustion same. I can't hold a plate of food.

- Severe anxiety started in afternoon after flat owner demanding I get the garden clean that night. Message was passed to me by builder at around 4.40pm. to be done by tomorrow morning. Oh yea, I'm dissabled with poor balance, walks some 15-20 meter with 2 stick, uses wheelchair otherwise. And it would get dark even if I miraculously find someone for, ... work that's not urgent! And oh yes, there's no place to eat at the kitchen table due to building work. Like that's not a priority after builders leave rather than garden. Also. Thunder and rain so bad, I though thunder had struck nearby. 

-Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) few times last night (originates from past child abuse) but attacks due to the way the flat owner and estates agent treats me.

Friday 05.05.23

-Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) exacerbated since around 2am started with the stress.

- Headaches back

- Severe anxiety rising progressively

- C-PTSD flash back early morning. Good thing I know how to manage it.

- I ate with carer, yea! Well she made me eat. 

Saturday 06.05.23

-Anxiety still high

-C-PTSD same high during day, not typical of abuse. Definitely flat owner & Estates Agent related.

Sunday 07.05.23

- Actively managing the mental health side of things. 

- Bad Heaches day time 

- Friend brought me yummy KFC. Could only eat a tiny bit. Oh great, that's Dissordered Eating not happy with all the stress!

- Migrainy headach lasted 2-3 hrs. Resolved with management.

-Asthma attack in evening for over 2hrs. Was so rough couldn't do lung capacity measurement until finally calmed down. 

- I won't be able to finish my KFC now. I'm pissed off. I'm so tired of juggling several deseases. It wouldn't be so bad of people acted like human being. 

So. Do you still think I'm leisurely lying around having a relaxing time as a dissabled person?

Did you realise that it takes managing one thing after another everyday? 

So everyone can do better of they "really wanted"? I really wanted to not loose my mortgage and dog. It's my dog I missed the most, not even one of my things. From a Midwife I became homeless. From working 16hrs or work followed by Union Rep work (IE talking to staff, not official meetings before you quote the law) I'm now not able to eat independently at times, or wash alone now. I'm still acting?  Have a good, lazy life? You want to swap? 

[midnightsun92]

Life update:

Hello friends or those who stopped long to read this. Sorry that i haven't been posting much or writing at all for months now. It's been... a really long summer full of crap I don't want to get into and I haven't been motivated to write anything. I did start writing some today about a pregnant trans Dagur au as an indulgence, but it's going slow.

Anyways, I just haven't been feeling motivated to do any writing while I focus on my health (doing some weight lifting and getting buff) and my oldest son's health as he might need sinus surgery to get rid of all that backed up gunk in there (this is why blowing your nose is so important). He had another CT yesterday morning so we'll see. The reason for his packed sinuses is his allergies and asthma, giving him a constant runny nose if I dont make him bathe every day, change his pillow sheet, and be careful what I feed him.

That was just one thing going on, I a slew of others but that is what has been bothering me the most... other than this thing going on between my husband and his dad, for fucks sake.

Anywho, just wanted to apologize for my lack of posts and stuff. Thanks to those who stuck around.

[drgagansabharwal]

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This blog dives into everything you need to know about Dental Implants Brooklyn NY, including their process, benefits, costs, and tips for finding the right dentist.

What Are Dental Implants?

Dental implants are artificial tooth roots, typically made of titanium, that are surgically placed in your jawbone. These implants serve as a stable foundation for replacement teeth, such as crowns, bridges, or dentures.

Unlike other tooth replacement options like traditional dentures or bridges, dental implants are designed to fuse with your jawbone, creating a long-lasting, secure fit. This makes them a popular choice among Brooklyn residents looking for better functionality and aesthetics.

Benefits of Choosing Dental Implants

Investing in dental implants offers several advantages over other alternatives. These include:

Natural Look and Feel: Dental implants look, feel, and function like natural teeth.

Improved Oral Health: Implants do not require the alteration of adjacent teeth, unlike dental bridges, helping preserve your natural tooth structure.

Stability and Comfort: You’ll never have to worry about slipping or clicking, unlike traditional dentures.

Durability: With proper care, implants can last decades, making them a reliable solution.

The Dental Implant Process

Getting dental implants in Brooklyn involves a comprehensive process to ensure optimal results. Here's what to expect at each stage of the treatment.

Step 1: Initial Consultation

Your path to a renewed smile starts with a consultation. During this visit, your dentist will examine your oral health, take X-rays, and discuss treatment options. You’ll learn if you’re an ideal candidate based on factors like jawbone density and gum health.

Step 2: Pre-Surgical Preparations (if necessary)

Some patients may require preparatory procedures like extractions, bone grafting, or sinus lifts to ensure the success of their implants. These steps enhance the implant's ability to integrate with the jawbone.

Step 3: Implant Placement Surgery

The implant placement itself is a straightforward outpatient procedure performed under local anesthesia. The dentist or oral surgeon will insert the titanium post into your jawbone. Over the next few months, the implant will Osseo integrate, or bond, with the bone.

Step 4: Abutment Placement

Once the jawbone and implant have fused together, an abutment (a small connector) is attached to the implant. This acts as the support for your custom-designed prosthetic tooth.

Step 5: Final Restoration

Finally, your custom replacement tooth (a crown, bridge, or denture) is attached to the abutment, completing the process. You’ll leave the office with a full, confident smile!

Finding the Right Dental Implant Specialist in Brooklyn

Choosing the right dental implant provider is crucial to ensuring the success of your treatment. Here are some tips for finding a reputable specialist in Brooklyn:

1. Check Credentials: Look for dentists with advanced training in implant dentistry. You’ll want a provider with substantial experience in performing implant procedures.

2. Read Patient Reviews: Online reviews and testimonials provide insights into the quality of care and patient satisfaction for dental practices in Brooklyn.

3. Visit the Clinic: Schedule a consultation to get a sense of the clinic's environment. A welcoming, professional office with state-of-the-art technology is a good sign.

Take the First Step Toward a Healthier Smile

Dental implants aren’t just about replacing lost teeth. They’re about restoring your confidence, improving oral health, and enhancing your overall quality of life.

If you’re ready to take the next step, schedule a consultation with a reputable Brooklyn dentist today. Many clinics offer complimentary evaluations to help you explore your options.

Don’t wait—start your journey to a healthier, brighter smile with dental implants in Brooklyn today!