#then i went to my own appointment and finally i have a diagnosis for the pain I've been feeling

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Heating pads

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: Your good time in Portimao being interrupted by your endo flare up again.

Warnings: endometriosis, cramps, love and care, infertility and baby talk

A/N: Wrote this last night and I poured into it some of my personal experience with endo, more this time. Surgery worked a little for me, it gave me a three months without cramps. Every body is different, every treatment works differently for us. But we’re in this together, endo sisters!

For @amberjazmyn 🧡

Don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

The weather at Portimao circuit wasn’t so pleasant as it was nearing the end of the year. F1 season was long gone and Max was able to finally avert his attention to his other hobbies (not gonna mention it’s still racing, but for his kinda own team).

Meeting with all the people around Verstappen.com Racing was a great one, especially with Thierry Vermeulen, because he was so funny, but humble at the same time.

You were always amazed how Max was so good at handling his many duties and hobbies at the same time. He was a great mentor, passing his legacy and wisdom and you watched how his temper calmed down a little through the years.

It wasn’t long ago when you moved to his apartment at Monaco, making your relationship more official after three years of being there and nowhere, between your job and his races. One day you decided enough is enough and you didn’t want to face your life alone anymore. That stirred some rumours through his fan base and also your parents weren’t able to hold back in their questions about you two starting a family. Truth was that you and Max weren’t exactly against having children, but the main problem was your endometriosis. Severe pain episodes, ending in ER may times, being neglected by doctors, saying it’s only in your head and that you need to sleep it off. You thought, for so many years, that you’re just insane, but after Max got through one of your endo flare ups with you, he got you through many doctor appointments, to the best specialists in the field, where you finally heard your diagnosis.

The surgery date was set after the new year’s, when Max would be still around to help you get back on your feet and mend your wounds with his love and care. But to that date your body just decided that you need to suffer.

You stood in the garage, watching how Max talked with the engineers and Thierry about some issues, his yapping always getting more and more interesting, when you felt a cramp in your lower back. It wasn’t unusual, you always had similar, and you brushed it off as some kind of back pain, most likely from standing for too long.

Watching Max racing at the empty track was always fun, he gave it his all, enjoying his time and it made you genuinely smile. But now you were pale, your forehead getting a little sweaty, same as your whole body. Feeling the need to sit down, you understood immediately, when the pain shot through your abdomen, pooling at your right side, that stretching burning sensation ghosting to your lower back. Trying to play it cool, you swallowed hard, smiling at everybody around.

About two hours later, Max was done with the testing, leaving the car to Thierry and he went to look through some performance reports, when he spotted you sitting at the bench, having that weird expression on your face like you were trying so hard to hide something, but failing miserably.

“Hey, love.. are you okay?”

His hand went to your cheek and you quickly shot him a look full of pain. He knew that look, seeing it more frequently in past weeks.

“Come here.” Without further words, he grabbed your hand and led you through the corridors to your car outside, where you had your things. Sitting you in the backseat, he quickly went to the trunk, rummaging through his bag, coming back after a while with some packages.

“Max, it’s okay, I can manage it.” You tried to protest but he dismissed you.

“Let me take care of you, I’m prepared.” Sitting beside you at the backseat, he opened both packages, shaking the contents a little with an approving hum. Heating pads. Your eyes went wide with surprise, but then your face softened, your eyes nearly welled with tears.

Warming his hands with the pads a little, he carefully lifted up your hoodie along with your top, to get to your bare abdomen, placing one pad under the waistband of your pants and the other at your lower back. You were always taken aback, how he remembered the location of your pains, where it hurts the most. After he was sure he placed pads securely, he pulled down your top and hoodie.

“Does it feel good?” Cupping your cheek, he had a concern written all over his face and you just nodded. With soft hum, he wrapped his hands around you, getting you closer to his chest, holding you tight against him, making sure you’re comfortable.

“Thank you, Maxie..” your sweet murmur made him smile, your hands hugging his warm and huge body like a teddy bear, the heating pads bringing you comfort you needed.

“Anything for you, my love.. I would go to the end of the world if it meant for you to be in less pain.” Max kissed your temple softly, letting out a soft sigh.

“You’ve done so much for me in this case, I don’t know how I deserved this.”

“You deserve the world, darling. And those pains.. I would do anything to take it on myself instead of you. I hate to see you contorted by it. Packing those heating pads it’s less than I can do for you, to make it easier.”

“You really changed my life, Max.”

“Oh, baby. You changed mine. A lot. I wasn’t this happy like I am beside you. I never forget that moment you smiled at me at that coffee shop in London, because you absolutely stole my breath.”

You chuckled softly, but the slight shot of pain made you wince a little.

“Can you please rub my back a little? It helps also..”

Max just nodded, sneaking his hand under your top, his warm hand rubbing the heat into your skin slowly and gently, making you relax more.

“You know, when we bought this car back then, I thought that it will be different action we’ll be doing on the backseat..” his voice was laced with teasing, trying to make you smile.

“Well.. I thought so too, but I can’t even imagine doing it right now.”

“No, love, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re in discomfort and never in the right mind I would try to make a move on you like this.”

Max liked being intimate with you, your chemistry being something undeniable when you two got to bed, but he respected you and your body. He would rather not have sex with you for weeks than to cause you pain.

“I know, I know, sorry. But we can try after I’m healed from surgery. And there can be a little miracle after. Like we talked many times before. Little Verstappen tapping around.”

It was true happy smile he saw on your face in a while. His heart skipped a beat at the idea of having a baby with you.

“Sure, whatever makes you happy, love. And whatever doesn’t cause you pain.”

His soft lips kissing your nose in the most lovely way was something only you could see. To the world he was that unbeatable lion on the track, dominating champion. But with you he was a caring, loving boyfriend, who would die for you in every way possible.

[theone]

What a fucking day...

[xaveria]

just to recap the events of this year have been:

start out working at target, get such horrible back pain i have to go on sick leave

went to 4 different orthopedic doctors, one ER visit after aquatic PT, two MRIs, and got a speculative diagnosis of ankylosing spondylitis

somewhere in there target denies my short term disability pay so im fucked with no income

quit target

get another labor job that hurts me more. quit.

get a job at a local craft store that is slightly better on my back but still tough.

finally secure rheumatology appointment. going to the pain clinic regularly now.

got appendicitis and an appendectomy and was in the hospital recovering on my birthday

then in the last week, my ex-husband ended our marriage (on good terms it was for the best), i lost my job due to overstaffing and now brian and i are moving into a smaller place in our complex

and yet i feel more hopeful than ever. brian and i are both disabled and i just cant work retail anymore. so our only income choice is running our own business. which has a long way to go

im sorry to ask again but honestly donations would be greatly appreciated at this time. we need to hire movers to help us as i am unable to lift anything heavy and brian has CFS.

paypal.me/shelbycragg

i know everyone is having a shit time too so dont donate if you dont have the means and please prioritize people in much much worse situations i am still a white woman in the US at the end of the day and i will be okay

if you want to help out and get something out of it you can check out our store

love y’all hopefully my blogging can get less complainy soon. all the shit that has happened this year is just comical to me at this point tbh

[alexaloraetheris]

I juat remembered the day, about two months ago, when I went to renew my perscription and ended up derailed by some kind of divine influence that really, really wanted my help. 😂

So I have an appointment at 9. First thing I do is sleep in because my alarm simply did not ring. First time that happened. I cursed out the damn phone and ordered a taxi, which I had specifically hoping to avoid because of the traffic congestion.

My driver is a woman a bit older than me, and she's in a good mood so we chat. She told me she was thinking of moving to [city on the coast] because taxi drivers are paid better there, and I tell her I have family there, we comment on what it's like to drive in a city essentially built into three hills and a cliff. She mentiones she has scoliosis, and it sometimes impacts her ability to sit in a car for long periods of time. I had scoliosis as well, but I had managed to fix it with exercises almost completely so I recommended my physical therapist, and assured her it's not too late, because some of the people in my therapy group were even older than her. When she let me off she thanked me for the help.

Feeling good that, even if I had to pay out the nose for the ride, I got there in time and even managed to do a good deed. I rush in, tell the reception guy I'm here to see my doctor and settle in to wait.

Two hours later, I see people being called in but not my name. I ask why, and doctor looks at me blankly and says I'm not in the system. I have to tell the reception I've arrived so I show up on his schedule.

I'm mentally cursing out the entire hospital, but I wasn't raised by wolves. I thank the doctor, politely tell the different receptionist that the last guy probably didn't hear me when I told him my appointment, got added in and went back to wait.

Ten minutes later, a visibly nervous girl with freshly printed papers sits in the waiting room. I'm in a bit of a mood, but I'm also a firm believer in helping if I can. I paste on a smile and ask 'First time?' and she admits she just got sent here for a potential ADHD diagnosis and she had no idea what to do. Having been there and knowing exactly how hard it was to do it on your own, I gave her the number of the psychologist who made my diagnosis, assured her that the psychiatrist she was here to see is the same one I have and that he's a good guy, explained what ADHD actually was and how the meds work. She was neraly crying with relief by the time I was done, and I promised she could send me questions if she needs to.

I finally, finally go in for my appointment in a slightly better mood, only for my psychiatrist to tell me Concerta is no longer imported, I have to go on some other meds and for that I need my family doctor to sign off on a regular perscription instead of getting an Rx perscription from him.

This is the worst case scenario, because I do NOT want my mother, who thinks ADHD was invented by quack American psychologists to sell expensive meds to parents with unruly children, to know I have ADHD. So I mentally curse out the entire healthcare system, go to the family doctor and explain the situation, that my mother absolutely CANNOT know about my diagnosis. Even though the doctor was not aware of my diagnosis so far, she listens attentively, and we make sure that my mom can't check the insurance we're both under to see what meds I'm on or that if she checks my name in the pharmacy directory she can't see me either.

I thought I handled that situation rather well but I must have looked more worried than I thought, because the doctor admitted her high-school age granddaughter had been asking questions about psychologists and antidepressants and she had so far been dismissive. But if she really needs help, she might do the same thing I did and seek help on her own, and my doctor realized she ought to either change her attitude fast or be left in the dark while her granddaughter is struggling. So I told her which psychologist I went to when I was also a depressed high schooler and how it helped and what I would have wanted my family to keep in mind. She thanks me and hands me a new perscription and sends me on my way.

So by now I am starting to notice a pattern.

Now, I'm actually an atheist, and I have 'Culturally Catholic' as a flaw and a laundry list of Stuff(TM) I have had to unlearn, but sometimes I really wonder if Someone Up There looked at me that day and thought:

"Hmm, looks like I have three problems I can solve with one well-positioned dumbass. Time to ruin her day for the good of the world!"

I mean. Happy to help but I really hope ruining my day won't be necessary next time.

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Can you please write something with Kenny Omega x fem reader,

Kenny has his surgery (for his diverticulitis) coming up and is nervous about the surgery, reader is there for him to comfort him and also is in the hospital with him and stays in the hospital for the entire time, so that reader is the first person he sees after waking up?!

There for you

An: I had no idea what to call this fic, leave better suggestions lol

Kenny Omega X femReader

Kenny Omega Masterlist Main Masterlist

The moment Kenny got his diagnosis I promised I would be there for him no matter what. I would be at every appointment and do whatever I could to make the best of this situation. When Kenny found out he needed surgery him and I were both nervous. Despite Kenny having multiple surgeries in the past this one was different. This surgery would not be easy, the recovery time would be long and Kenny would be in a lot of pain. Regardless I would be there for every second. 

Today was surgery day and although I would never tell Y/n, I was scared. I hated putting her through this. I felt like this was a never-ending cycle. Ever since my belt collector era, I had found myself constantly out of action. I contemplated retirement but decided to do a final run with The Bucks for the trios’ titles. That plan got screwed over when we all got suspended and during that time I realized I was far from done. I still had things I wanted to do in my career and like always Y/n was nothing but supportive of me. When I first started feeling sick I ignored it, I had matches booked, storylines were being written and I coudn't get sick. I assumed it was a bug as a lot of the talent caught this stomach bug but mine never went away. Y/n had to beg me to go to the hospital and when I finally did I was told I was lucky I came when I did. If I had waited any longer this whole thing could have been way worse. 

As much as we tried to avoid surgery it came to the point where I needed it. Like always Y/n was there for me for every second. She comforted me and took after me the whole time. In the days leading up to my surgery, she prepped the house to be perfect for my return. She even spent the holidays with me in the hospital which I know was hard for the both of us. She held my hand while they put me under, telling me how much she loved me and how she would stay for the whole operation. Everything that happened after that was a blur. I didn’t know what time it was when I finally woke up but I knew it was late. Hospitals always creeped me out, especially during the night but this time I felt at ease. Looking down I could see all the bandages and tubes on my body, it freaked me out. The only light in the room came from the hallway of the hospital and the moonlight that shined through the window. It was quiet, the only sound was the beats of my heart that echoed off the monitor. Beep….Beep…Beep. As I looked around the room, I noticed Y/n curled up on a chair in the corner. Although I didn’t see her at the time her presence in the room was all I needed to comfort me.

 “How are you feeling?” Y/n asked me quietly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you” “I wasn’t really sleeping. They said everything went well. You should be able to come home tomorrow” That I was thankful for, I couldn't wait to be back in my own bed. “That’s good, I feel fine for the most part” “Good, you are on a lot of pain meds. When they start to wear off you have to tell the nurse.” Y/n told me tirdly “Thank you, Y/n” “For what?” “For everything, for always being there. I really don’t deserve any of it” “Oh hush, you do deserve someone to take care of you Ken. You should try and get some rest, your body needs it.” “Yes ma’am, Good night” “Night, Love you” “Love you too” How did I get so lucky. 

[shibalatte]

whatevr ill post my stupid baby bill poem nonsense on this app

i hold my son close to me. we just went to our first eye doctors appointment. his big round eye is closed as he sleeps. he clings to me as he naps in my arms. i look at the medication they gave me. the bottle doesnt even seem to have proper dosage. i sigh. ever since my son has started his diagnosis journey, i've worried for him. all the doctors flock around him when he starts looking up nobody has ever seen what he calls up, it perplexes the specialists, the teachers at school, his peers. and yet, i feel like there has to be someone who has there has to be more like him, correct? today's my baby billy's first day of second grade hes grown so big from when he was in his baseball sneakers. i measure him from angle to angle, hes grown somewhat taller. he beams. i walk him to school, he tells me about the stars once again. how they glitter and glow. i tell him that even if i can't see what hes talking about, i see him, and always will. he smiles with his eye i tell him he'll have his silly straws clean when he gets home billy has started telling me he can't see. i check his medication. they've upped his dose from 2 sips to 3. i yelled at the doctor for not even giving me a proper dose for him. they told me not to worry, that they know best. i dont believe them. i have stopped giving bill his "eye medication" it turns out that it wasnt helping him at all, the doctor who gave it to us was outed as a fraud he looks at me with that round eye and wonders why ive stopped i tell him he'll be safe this is billy and i's first appointment at a psychologist. billy looks at me with worry in his big round eye. he's never had to have an appointment where he has to talk about himself. i tell him he'll be safe and that i'll hold his hand through the whole thing. they were perplexed to say the least, but they were helpful they told us to come back for an assessment they said they might have the answer the psychologists have a diagnosis its a thing they dont know a lot about, hes the first one to be officially diagnosed the doctors want to name it after him but i insist they don't. i don't need my boy to be the center of his condition he looks at me in the car with fear. i tell him that everyone is still learning, even doctors. he smiles with his eye again . i make him a sandwich with the crust cut off when we come back, he beams years later, the diagnosis has been named silly straw syndrome its considered a neurological conditon that effects the way someone sees the world. people are still scared of my son when he looks up at the stars but we're getting somewhere, the world of shapes is making progress. bill brought home a friend im overjoyed, hes never had a friend over and for once, i see a kid other than my own look up at the stars with him! and i finally see that my son is understood! i tear up, my beautiful boy is finally understood by his peers. i dont have to worry. im at peace. my son will be ok in the world, there IS people like him! i cry, i sob. my son is finally finding a place. hes finally ok.

[heian-era-housewife]

Hello all!

Recovery, diagnosis, and continued health journey below the break.

TLDR: Stage 4 endometriosis, still waiting on results for the heart condition, tired, sore, overall am going to be okay 👍 I do, however, hate being the owner of a uterus.

Most importantly, thanks everyone for the love, support, and well wishes! Glad to be back! It will be slow. Don't expect too much, but I do still plan to play catch up on Kinktober, even if it goes into November a little bit.

Trigger warnings: blood, mental health, mention of sex, gender identity, generally just Yuri whining 😅

I'm not sure where to begin. When I imagined writing this comeback post, pre-surgery I thought it would be all smiles and sunshine. I knew there would be pain, but I thought the worst of it would be behind me. Currently, I feel like I'm sitting toward the bottom of what may be a very long uphill struggle.

While my surgery went smoothly, the care I received around the surgery was eye opening. We waited for hours on end both before and after the surgery to get answers, to get help, to use the bathroom or be offered water.

Sometime before I woke up I had apparently been given some disposable underwear and a pad because I was bleeding pretty heavily. When I was finally able to use the restroom, I discovered that the pad had been placed cotton-side down with the adhesive side facing my body. The sticky part was still covered with the backing (thankfully), but this had caused blood to run everywhere including down my legs where I could not reach, as I was unable to bend. The only person available to help me at the time was a man whose bedside manner was less than desirable, so I just lived with the blood stains.

This was just one of many instances where it felt like I was almost being punished for having the reproductive organs that I do. And frankly, that has been my experience my entire life as someone who menstruates, who has had difficulty with menstruation, and who has had near constant pain and problems in that area.

Ultimately, I was diagnosed with stage 4 endometriosis. I know very little about this condition and by the time I had woken up from surgery, the surgical staff had gone home. There was no one willing to answer questions and I have since been told I will need to wait two weeks until my follow up appointment to speak with the doctor and get details. Until then, I am left with my own research. From what it seems, there is no cure and very minimal that can be done for treatment of symptoms. My discharge notes make mention of heavy scarring on my ovaries from recurring cysts, which are sure to continue. The endometrial tissue can also appear on or effect other parts of the body as they had in this past instance where tissue was present around my intestines. It can grow on lungs and even the brain, though these cases are extremely rare.

It's hard not to feel discouraged right now. I thought this surgery would be a huge step forward toward feeling better, but it feels more like a tiny drop in a bucket of larger issues and possibly more surgeries and complications to come. Not only this, but I am enraged both by the absolutely abysmal healthcare system here in the U.S. but by the treatment of and complete lack of empathy for those who have vaginas, uteruses, who experience menstruation or pregnancy and any number of complications from these things. I've said it before and I'll say it again, "women's" healthcare is a JOKE, but this goes beyond women. If I, a cisgender female, am experiencing such a lack of care and empathy, I can only imagine how any person with these organs who doesn't fit the stereotypical image or definition gets treated. I hate it.

Anyhoo...

Recovery is expected to take about two weeks. No sex for six weeks (for real this time)

Still waiting on results from my heart monitor.

Wanting to tackle mental health after squaring away what I can of physical health.

Depression and anxiety is now worse than ever. Doing my best not to slither into my little hermit hole and hide from it all.

Writing helps. Drawing helps. The love and care from amazing people on this silly little site helps.

And of course, there is Hubs, who deserves a standing ovation for the incredible job he has done caring for me, advocating for me, and reminding me every day that truly good people do still exist 🩷

If you've read this far, please go get yourself a cookie or something 🍪 and thank you, truly, for being part of this little journey with me 💕

[sassyfrassboss]

Harry really wants us to believe that in the 15 minutes that he met with his dad - while his dad was on his way out the door and already getting late - he, Harry, managed to squeeze in the mandatory pleasantries, put forward his demands to be back in the royal fold, propose a basic outline of the pr plan and media strategy, assure his father it would work, coordinated media sound bytes nofor the next 3 weeks, made assurances that he and his missus would behave and not spill secrets at Invictus, also included inquiries about his father's health and diagnosis and managed to secure a firm affirmative for this royal return plan.

Harry, alone, did all of that on his own in 15 mins while he was jetlagged, coming straight from the airport? All that without a shouting match? All that one-on-one with Charles with no one present in the room? And actually succeeded with his mission of secure a temporary royal role for himself? In just 15 mins? Even though he hadn't had a direct face to face conversation with him in over a year? Ha ha ha ... Ya I don't believe it at all.

At the most (giving him the benefit of doubt) he probably Sai, "Pa, you were sick, so I think I'd come back."

Charles said something like "Sure, my boy. Anytime". The same way my dad would "sure" when I used to asked him if we could go to Disneyland in the summer break. That never happened but he always said "sure", and I'd then tell all friends we were going to Disneyland for the summer. This happened right up to highschool too lol.

We finally went 2 years back. As a cheer up present for me because I was getting divorced. I was 32 lol.

HAHA! Congrats!?

My go to is "We'll see..."

As to Harry and Charles. I guess what I want to know is when did these "warm conversations" happen.

In my experience "warm conversations" revolve around pleasantries and happy on-goings in life, not "Pa I want back in because you're sick and I this is how it's gonna go."

There may have been some phone calls in the past couple of weeks where Harry asks how Charles is but also, and people forget this, Charles doesn't have a cell phone. Reaching him requires contacting his staff and making an appointment. It's not as easy as you and I just picking up the phone and calling our parents.

Years ago when my dad announced he had cancer, I immediately asked how bad it was and if it was curable. When he explained that his local/rural doctor gave him six months I gave my dad a hug, walked out the door, went to the store and bought a few bottle of wine, chocolate and Kleenex. Drove back to my house where my dad, mom, husband (at the time), brother and brother's gf were...poured myself a glass of wine and starting talking game plans. A couple days later dad had appointments at one of the most, if not THE most, prestigious cancer research hospitals in the world, located in the city I was living. He is still with us and that was 12 years ago.

But when you find out that type of information that is how you react. You start talking treatments, appointments, logistics, overall outlook, etc. Only a true narcissist would use this as an opportunity to force his way back into a role he abandoned.

[mariska]

had a very long busy day yesterday so i didnt get to make a lil post abt this (and i have also had a very busy month in general so i am like. Incredibly Burned Out Currently Anyways lol) BUT! as of yesterday i FINALLY have managed to get an official, legally recognized, medical professional assigned autism diagnosis. it's taken almost exactly 12 years of absolutely exhausting work and effort on me and my family/medical support system's part, and i will always wish that i'd been 'officially', 'professionally' diagnosed so much earlier in life before everything got too difficult for me to attempt to manage myself, but it is so validating and important to me that regardless of whatever happens moving forward in my life now with my combination of mental and physical disabilities, at the very least, i stayed determined through everything and lived long enough to actually see the day that my 27 years of existing as an autistic person was diagnosed, recognized, and officially logged in pretty great detail (along with quite a bit of additional separate diagnoses of additional disabilities i have) in my medical records.

it's all still very surreal to me because at this point in time i truly did not think i would ever get an official diagnosis in my lifetime with all of the hell i've gone through trying to get medical professionals to take me seriously when i have continuously begged to be heard and recognized in my struggles. the man who did my professional assessment this time around (i had one before many yrs ago that was nowhere near as necessarily thorough and resulted in very inaccurate misdiagnosis) was really patient, kind, understanding and respectful not just to me and my struggles but also to me as a person in general, had no big shocked responses to learning that i have 2 moms and was born via known donor dad, completely understood that i have very little genetic familial info about myself because of that and some other specific factors, listened to everything me and one of my moms who was sitting next to me thru the whole evaluation for support had to say, asked very detailed professional questions and used testing material that was geared specifically towards autistic Adults and not elementary school aged children (which has previously been my entire experience with any kind of autism related evaluation/testing in the past despite those past instances being when i was already a young adult at the time)...it took such a long time to get here but i'm very very grateful that i have finally been recognized officially as the person i have always been.

i teared up reading the email that was sent to my moms & me containing the full detailed breakdown of the test and evaluation findings/results because it was the first time in my life that i've ever read such a thorough and accurate description/assessment of Myself, in general. there's a very strange, emotionally charged, but also very positive kind of feeling seeing over 20 years of my own lived experiences written in words and presented as evidence of the disabilities i've lived my entire life struggling to survive around with very minimal help or even prior recognition. both my longtime therapist and primary care dr also submitted really detailed, well-described accounts of my disabilities and the details around them to this dr who did this evaluation and reading those accounts in the long results letter was very validating to my understanding of myself, too. i told both my mom that went to the appt with me and my therapist that i have weekly sessions with at my appointment yesterday that it felt like reading a really detailed wikipedia entry about myself in a way because i just have never seen so much accurate information about my entire life written in words like that before. i've spent my entire 20's so far not even feeling like a fully realized human being because of how existentially complicated and exhausting and stress inducing and confusing life in general is to me and i actually feel like A Human Being That Has Always Been Passively Perceived By Other People Around Me As Such now. i don't know how long it takes for my brain to fully process that realization but i'll be slowly finding out from now on. which is just. wild to even say/type outside of my head.

ANYWAYS!!! i will stop rambling now. i just wanted to type out a big ol' life update and fling it into the void on here because it really is an indescribably huge life milestone for me, so i wanted to share it with all of u!

12 years, dude. finally feeling like maybe everything i've been through has been worth it even just for this one accomplishment. i really hope it helps me be able to build some sort of independent life structure for myself from here on out but even if nothing changes i am so relieved to have my basic identity and personhood validated and recognized. i think it all has been worth it even just for that.

[buntsuki]

Hello! My name is Autumn, I go by Bun, and this is Groot! He’s my emotional support dog, he’s been by my side since he was old enough to come home! He is truly my other half, and dog soulmate. He is incredibly intelligent, with a deep and understanding soul. He’s the most unique and special creature I have ever had to pleasure of being around.

I’m a 24 year old, disabled/chronically ill woman. When Groot was younger he would lay along me in bed every night, and most of the day. Especially during my extreme endometriosis symptoms, and the hip injection hormone treatment I was finally able to have after years.

Groot started out as our family dog, he is a member of the family. A family friend rescued a dog on the side of the road while on a cross country road trip! When she found out the shelters would just put her down, she kept the dog…and surprise the dog, Missy, was pregnant! My aunt helped with the birthing of the puppies…and that’s how he came into our lives!

My parents went to visit the puppies since they wanted one. Groot first went up to my dad, and after my dad picked him up Groot started licking his face and trying to eat his beard! After my dad put him down on the floor and told my mom he liked this one…Groot went over to my mom. She was sitting on the floor, and Groot climbed up on her lap, laid on her leg and went to sleep. He chose us! We named him Groot because he was just always in the background doing his own thing, dragging water bowls around as a puppy while the other ones went wild playing!

Once Groot came home, he bonded with me the most, hiding behind me from my siblings, and laying with me for comfort. Our first night with him, we weren’t sure if he even knew what stairs were since he didn’t have them where he was born. Well low and behold that night he goes BOLTING up the stairs! He couldn’t get back down, but he’s always been a powerhouse!

Over the years Groot and I got closer, and he has become my baby. He also completely adores my fiancée, he is also her baby! He is the sweetest, deepest soul I have ever met.

At the end of August he started getting sick..well kinda. His only symptom was swollen Lymph Nodes on his neck. We called the vet, they told us to monitor it and wait a few days, it could just be a virus. So we did, the nodes changed shape and size, but didn’t go away. So we called again, got an appointment, went in, and they suspected an infection, possibly an abscess. He was given antibiotics and told to monitor. The lymph nodes went down, but again not away.

We called back, and they referred us to the specialized hospital. It was a long day, Groot got sedated, biopsies, scans, bloodwork etc. he was out on Prednisone for the time being as well as a precaution. A few days later we got the call. They found cancer cells in all the sampled lymph nodes.

We were of course devastated, but Groot is in group A for best remission odds! He didn’t have sick symptoms when diagnosed, as well as it being Type B cells instead of Type T cells. We consulted the oncologist, went over options etc. and decided on the strongest treatment. Groot is young, otherwise healthy, and has great odds for a long remission!

After his first Chemotherapy dose he went into full remission! He still needs his full treatment course, but this is such a positive start! He is still in remission, and still responding so positively to the chemo! It’s a little adventure for him, he doesn’t even know anything is wrong, as it should be!

When we were informed of his diagnosis, the woman who called told us about her dog. He was diagnosed at age five, with large cell lymphoma, b-cells. He did the strongest treatment and now he is 2 years out from his chemotherapy, and completely cancer free! Since she works there she has easier access and pricing for scans, so she does them every 3 months, full body. Not a single cancer cell! She said he did lose his hair though! With the updated chemotherapy for animals the odds are so much better, they’ve come a long way! The statistics are just so bad because…it’s expensive.

They do not make it easy, it is heart wrenching. I’ve been in a position before where we’ve had to give up an animal since we couldn’t afford the hospital bill and care. I feel for everyone who has gone through this and not been able to afford chemo. I completely understand and it is entirely different not being able to afford it, vs just not wanting to spend the money!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aside from the stress, and emotional ups and downs experiencing this with Groot, I am financially devastated. You cannot insure a pet with a pre-condition, much like how insurance companies don’t like covering humans with pre-existing conditions. No insurance will accept an already diagnosed pet unless the pet is CURED without treatments for 180 days. Then that also falls into what their definition of cured means.

I have been emptying my life savings (saved everything from first my job, then unemployment, and the stimulus checks), I am unable to work due to Covid with my ITP (blood disorder), as well as Endometriosis, fibromyalgia, and suspected degenerative arthritis (my mom has it, it runs in our family, and I have the symptoms of it). I have also been selling my personal belongings, and doing discounted art commissions. I don’t even get to go out often, and whenever I do it’s in a N95 mask with limited crowds!

We have been applying to all the foundations that help with vet bills, but they are OVERWHELMED, have strict requirements, limited donation amounts, and extremely long waitlists. We’ve still been applying, but I’m not relying on them getting back to us…

My mom, who is also disabled, got a $1700 loan to help! It went straight to the vet, my fiancée took from her savings as well. We are both applying for and looking into loans and vet bill credit cards. This is just so hard, he had a nearly $5000 overnight hospital stay (it ended up being due to chemotherapy and steroid reactions, he’s finished the steroids now, and they’re dialing back the chemo type that caused it).

After that hospital bill I am wiped out and terrified. All the money I had earned, fundraised, was given by friends and family, it all ended up going to that hospital bill. Now I still need to pay the rest of his chemo! I need at least another $5,000 which I know is a lot! But this is a life, and this is a once in a lifetime chance where I can BUY MORE TIME with him! He isn’t suffering, no pains, and aside from the hospital stay due to raised liver enzymes he hasn’t had any chemo symptoms either!

I am so incredibly proud of him, and how brave and strong he is!

Any thoughts, well wishes, prayers, shared, donations, purchases, commissions and everything else are so incredibly appreciated! I truly don’t want to ask for money, for help, I wish I could just do this all on my own. We know in hindsight now about insurance, this is a learning experience for sure, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to give up on Groot! He is here now and thriving and I want to give him the best life that he deserves! Thank you for reading❤️

Commissions are open, all types, can find me on other socials under BunTsuki as well! Any help means the world to me, and I swear when I’m better off I will pay it forward!

[cookinguptales]

in the continuing adventures of "body, please be normal" I've been dealing with pretty awful GI symptoms for the past month, and they have finally resolved themselves in a frankly bewildering fashion.

it feels gross to talk about, but I guess it was other people being gross and talking about their own symptoms that helped me figure out what was going wrong with me so like. maybe this will help someone else.

(cut for talk about medical issues, particularly gerd, endometriosis, and mcas)

Now... I've been dealing with pretty severe acid reflux for several years now. It seems to be attached to hormonal changes in the body because it flares up when I'm on any kind of hormonal medication (including birth control) or my period is approaching. It tends to manifest in ENT symptoms because the acid gets up into my sinuses and it's a whole fucking mess.

(Best guess is that it's related to the endometriosis and potential internal scarring, but the docs are REALLY hesitant to open me up to see the extent of the scarring because the EDS means that I heal poorly.)

Since I came off hormonal birth control, it hasn't been nearly as bad. I used to have to take fairly high doses of omeprazole at all times, but now it seems to be sufficient to take small doses of famotidine when it flares once a month.

That said! It's been flaring more often and worse since late last year, and I've been experiencing a particularly bad flare that's lasted for about a month now. Not to be too graphic, but I've had pretty severe burns in my mouth and pretty extensive oral bleeding. It's been... not fun!

(plus other GI issues, but they've been relatively mild compared to the... blood...)

I've been taking both omeprazole and famotidine, my usuals, but it's barely made a dent in it. I have been, safe to say, In Hell, but I wasn't able to get an appointment with a doctor until late May so I've just been kind of putting up with it.

Yesterday I really wanted to go to a street festival and I was like... okay, who knows if I'll be able to eat anything because even broth and oatmeal have been making me sick, but we'll give it a try. And I took some allergy medicine because it's spring and -- it went away. All my symptoms went away.

I AM... BEWILDERED... but yeah like I took the allergy meds and my symptoms went from 90% down to like... maybe 10%. Not perfect, but very bearable. And when I took my acid reflux meds, it actually got a little worse...?

So today I am off all reflux medications and on quite a bit of allegra and I feel almost fine. I am incredibly bewildered. All I can figure is that this time, as opposed to my regular flares, things were caused by some kind of allergic reaction...? I'm not sure to what, as I haven't really done anything differently lately, but I guess it could just be environmental.

I googled and Dr. Google says that acid reflux can be triggered by allergies, which has me back in the "wait, is MCAS a thing that's been ruining my life??" place. It's a diagnosis that my doctors have been toying with, but I've never worried about it too much compared to the others. But I guess the GI issues I've been experiencing aren't too unusual to MCAS, where your body has weird heightened allergic reactions to a lot of things, so like. orz

I guess I have been so allergic to the universe that my body was trying to literally eat itself.

I'm still going to go to the GI doc in a few weeks and see what they have to say but like. I guess I just keep mainlining allegra for now. It's a thing I'll have to be careful with (allergy meds give me eye problems, so I guess I'll be doing eye drops 10x a day again) but it's better than the life I've been living! :')

I guess I'm just happy that I've found some kind of solution but like. jesus christ. what the heck.

[writerinturmoil]

My Autism Journey

As a toddler, I would line up my toy cars and become upset when one rolled out of place. At the laundromat, I would stare at the clothes as they tumbled in the dryer. I would put a bucket over my head or hide in a hamper when my madre babysat or when family visited because I would become overwhelmed with the noise. I would play “Hit the Road Jack” by Ray Charles, “Love Hurts” by Roy Orbison, and “Local Motion” by Little Eva on repeat. (It drove my madre nuts!) I didn’t learn to speak until well after my third birthday. I would repeat what others said until I could form words of my own. But this isn’t when I got diagnosed.

In Kindergarten, I would color code these cardboard bricks and stack them, each row a different color. In elementary school, I felt like an orange amid apples. I struggled with social cues and with making friends. At recess, I would walk the perimeter of the playground and observe my classmates. It amazed me how easy they made friends and interacted with one another. But this isn't when I got diagnosed.

In high school, I barely survived. I would manage to keep it together at school, but meltdown once I got home. I couldn’t eat in the cafeteria. The sunlight streaming through the windows blinded, and the overhead florescent lights seared. The odor of food assaulted me from every direction, making me want to gag and hurl. The noise of clanging silverware and high-pitched voices stabbed like a sharp knife to my eardrums. Lucky for me, a sympathetic security guard let me eat in a quiet stairwell. But this isn't when I got diagnosed.

In university, I felt like the ugly duckling, a swan among ducks. I didn’t understand why I possessed peculiar quirks and experienced the world differently than my peers. I didn’t understand why I flew through some tasks considered difficult yet struggled with others considered easy. I didn’t understand why my emotions seemed constantly in flux, and why I couldn’t get them under control. I didn’t understand why I always felt like I stood perilously close to a precipice, and that at any moment, I would lose my balance and tumble into the void below. But this isn't when I got diagnosed.

Then, a year after graduating from university, I read a memoir that provided me with many answers: Look Me in the Eye by John Elder Robison. His book resonated with me in a way that no others had. I connected to his life experiences and struggles in a way I had never done before. Never had I related to or understood someone so completely. Before I even finished the book, I suspected that like the author I had *autism.

Researching autism online, I could relate to most but not all of what other autistic people went through. Some of my symptoms differed drastically from theirs. [I realize now that these outlier symptoms linked exclusively to ADHD.] Since my experience didn’t align closely enough with these autistic people, I decided that I probably didn’t have autism. Something like autism, yes, but not autism per se.

As the years passed, I found it progressively harder to deny that I had autism. By 2013, I internally thought of myself as autistic and only told my best friend of my suspicions. I didn’t tell others for fear of rejection. 

By the end of 2022, I’d had enough. I’d gotten to the point where I needed to know. In early 2023, I booked an appointment at the Adult Autism Assessment & Services. 

In September, I had the preliminary appointment to see if I would benefit from an autism assessment. After answering a few questions, the psychologist told me point blank that I was definitely autistic, but he couldn’t say so officially. The assessment consisted of three online sessions, each one lasting two hours. It cost $2,400 (most of my savings). These sessions occurred in the months of September and October. There was no question of the outcome. On 22 October, I finally received the diagnosis I should’ve gotten decades ago.

After receiving the diagnosis, I spent the next year learning even more about autism and figuring out which accommodations would help and benefit me the most. And during that year, Noahfinnce released Growing Up on the Internet. I related strongly to the songs “Alexithymia”, “Subtitles”, and “Gibberish”. If only I had these songs when I was a teenager, how less confusing and frustrating my life would’ve been. 

Now, a year later, I’m glad that I got diagnosed. It has not only helped the people in my life understand me better but has also given me permission to act kinder to myself. I’m not lazy, I’m just autistic. I’m not broken, I’m just autistic. I’m not antisocial, I’m just autistic. 

Well, that’s all I have time for today. Until next time, take care and stay curious.

*At the time, it was known as Asperger’s Syndrome.

[bardic-tales]

9.21.24 - STS Issue #3

What drew you to write fanfiction for your chosen fandom?

Content Warnings: illness, medical procedures, identity struggles, family issues, parental abandonment, emotional distress, experimentation themes.

I started to write fan fiction for Final Fantasy VII because of a personal connection I had with the game's original themes. When my stepfather was diagnosis with a rare form of multiple sclerosis in the 90s, it took many doctor appointments and tests to finally get answers. The journey he went through felt like a series of experiments, as he was poked and prodded. Writing about those experiences that the FF VII characters faced, even indirectly, gave me a way of processing what was happening at home, as well as a place to channel my emotions that came with watching my stepfather struggle with his health.

Sephiroth, in particular, drew me in as he is a character who grappled with his identity and his origins, which really resonated deeply with me. I grew up without knowing my birth father and only heard fragmented -- often negative -- stories about him as I got older. I felt lost in trying to figure out WHO I was, just as Sephiroth tries to understand himself and his past. I have no plans to burn down towns or summon Meteors, however. lol

Writing about him and exploring his journey with Bianca allowed me to connect with that feeling of confusion and the search for the truth -- for who I actually was -- which helped me confront my own experiences.

Over the past 27 years, my OC Bianca Moore has evolved along with me. She's crossed over into multiple fandoms, including Inuyasha, while also having her own original storylines. Bianca has become a central figure in my FF 7 fanfictions and other words, carrying pieces of my original worldbuilding and character ideas. Some elements from her origins -- as well as the trilogy and worldbuilding that went into those original stories -- still exist in the overarching story of 'Fantasy Worlds Collide'. For example, the military school in Ireland led by Archangel Michael, still exist in the overarching storyline, same with the reason why the Great War in the celestial plane happened.

Writing has always been a way for me to create and hold onto things that feel personal and very significant.

[eyesoforpheus]

so my university does adhd evaluations and I’ve been on the waitlist for a little over a month, but i finally got a call on Friday about scheduling an appointment to get evaluated. I was in rehearsal and missed the call, but was told to leave a voicemail with no instructions as to what to say, and I think I may have set myself up for the easiest diagnosis possible. The situation went as follows

- i miss the call

- i wait until the office closes to leave a voicemail so i don’t have to talk to someone

- i call to leave a voicemail. i get the extension wrong so i have to hang up and call again

- i get the right extension but forget the name of the woman who called me, so i have to pull up the transcript of the voicemail while still leaving my own voicemail

- i get through saying hi to her and saying my name before i realize i wasn’t told what else to say and hadn’t scripted my response

- i fumble for about fifteen seconds before settling on saying i just wanted to acknowledge that she called

- i go “if you call me on Monday” before realizing she said she would call me on Monday to “when you call me on Monday” to thinking that sounds too demanding to “we can talk on Monday to set up an appointment”

- i realize it was never explicitly confirmed that that’s the reason she was calling, although it’s literally the only reason this specific person would be calling me

- five second pause.

- i give her my phone number and then add out loud that she obviously already knows my phone number because she called me

- say goodbye. stick the landing. hang up

- spend fifteen minutes sitting in silence in my car recovering before driving home

[dismalrain]

This moral conflict consumes me

Disclaimer: My bad experience with naturopathy doesn't mean I don't think it has benefits for others. Because it stole my childhood from me doesn't mean I'm targeting you and your healing journey. Part of mine is sharing my experience so I can finally move on and feel like someone has heard my anguish.

I have a chronic illness, a disability, a condition that causes musculoskeletal pain. The pain has dictated my life since it started to get worse when I was 10-11. I went to my pediatrician and was told I had a temporary knee condition common in children and growing pains.

I continued to complain about the pain until I was around 13. She took me to a naturopathic. She was convinced they saved her from her rheumatoid arthritis up until a year or two ago. It's hard to tell because she went to functional doctors for a while. I'm 21 now. However, she has since gone on medication prescribed by her rheumatologist and is seeing improvement.

I was misdiagnosed multiple times with conditions that they put in my charts without ever telling me about. Diagnoses they never treated me for, such as Hashiomoto's. I was on a Lyme disease protocol consisting of four different antibiotics over the course of three years. Prescriptions like Malarone, a slew of vitamins (literally prescription high dose potassium), the paleo diet, and nasal sprays, and she would mix her own tinctures and never provide an ingredient list. Just write on a label stuck to the brown bottle what it was for and how many drops to take.

There was an increase of general practitioner doctors in my area not taking in new patients after COVID-19. Between the pain, anxiety, and paranoia associated with my OCD that was only just now being medicated; it took me until this year to get an appointment with the appropriate specialist to get the diagnosis my GP and I already were pretty confident I had. 6 of the months it took was just finding one that had availability and wanted to take me on. I live 6 hours from my rheumatologist. I had three different GPs say they were pretty confident with my diagnosis, I just needed the specialist confirmation.

So why did I have to spend my childhood suffering in extreme pain for Lymes disease I didn't have? Why did I have to take holistic sleeping medications, go on a diet, and drink mystery tinctures that cost over $100? Why did she give up on me when I was 16 and pass me on to a different person in her clinic if I had Lymes? If had any of the over a dozen diagnoses she had handwritten in my chart? Why did I have to suffer with a mother who was convinced that $20,000 in naturopathic medicine was worth it? Medical debt and useless medications.

She moved me to a functional doctor because she didn't believe in Western medicine still after the naturopathic failed for three years. I was put on a year-long homeopathic Lymes protocol and had weekly oxygen. I spent four years on Lyme disease protocols because I tested negative on the high end, tested barely positive, and then negative again.

I was on antibiotics for so long that my immune system started to fail. They told me it was a natural detoxification process. At the start of COVID-19, my immune system was failing and I wasn't producing white blood cells properly. She again, gave me a tincture she hand-made with no ingredient list. I became temporarily infertile during these 'treatments.' My body still hasn't recovered, I haven't been hungry in years, and I have no desire to eat and do it because I know I need to. I used to love food, I used to find comfort in the flavors and revel in getting to eat snacks. I don't even want to taste my food because it makes me nauseous. I miss loving to taste things. I miss savoring flavors.

I spent a decade struggling with pain that stole my friend, sent me into a depression, and put a financial strain on my family to the point that I've been blamed for years because my medical was too pricey. Only my partner loved me throughout. I wasn't even happy to have my diagnosis official from the right doctor because it's incurable. There's no way to reduce the pain other than gentle exercise. I'm going to be in pain for the rest of my life, but I had to go through all of the medical hope, suffering, and improper treatment because 'natural is best' because 'my body will heal itself'

All I feel is numb.

My heart is heavy because my body still hasn't recovered from the naturopath and functional medicine doctors and my body doesn't function properly so is it going to recover?

I want people to be able to do what they want with their medical pursuits. I want people to find hope in natural options. I want people to find the RIGHT doctor who won't overprescribe and give them the best they can without straining the body too much. I want people to have a holistic medical experience that accounts for the Western and natural. But to have two doctors in the same clinic misdiagnosis and mistreat me for so long. To have a functional medical doctor do the exact same. To have an incurable condition that doesn't have any proven naturopathic remedies to 'cure' it like they say the 'body always will' haunts me. When I see other preteens and teens in the office I hurt thinking that maybe they don't have a choice like I didn't because they can't afford copays and their parents might not believe like mine.

It haunts me to know that I didn't need to suffer but I did, for years with only more damage than good coming to my body. I attended the high school I work for now. I'm fully remote because the verbal abuse and nonconsensual touching of my in-pain body when I was younger made me feel unsafe. Then I was denied testing for my OCD because I was "performing well at school." I'm remote because I know I can help students in need but believe the teachers at the school don't give a single fuck about the disabled and exploited like I openly was when I was a student. But my teachers who didn't take my disability seriously, humiliated me for brain fog and chronic fatigue, and made me participate in competitive events when I was barely walking and not allowed accommodations, a lot have left 5-star reviews for the doctors that I feel ruined my life to an extent.

I mean temporarily infertile because I was overloaded with things my body didn't need and put on diets my body couldn't handle? Because I needed to combat an infectious virus I didn't have? They gave tinctures for our dog water for fucks sake. The functional doctor told us to put the homeopathic medicine in my chicken's water to protect them from fucking tapeworms. I feel like I'm crazy because they're not vets and they're convincing my mom to buy tinctures to 'shed gut-destroying tapeworms.'

I resent my mother. I basically raised my brother because she was already absentee in our youth, but to watch me deteriorate and keep paying when I said I hated those doctors, they didn't listen, they put me in more pain, they touched places that hurt until they hurt more and then said it was chiropractic healing.

I could've been on medicine that helped my pain all these years and simply wasn't because of this. Because of an obsession with Lyme disease. I'm so bitter and angry about this because I could've at least been working towards comfort all those years. Instead of waiting until I had an income to buy comfort items like icy hot, hand support, my partner bought my hot water bottle, and so on and so forth. My partner has been with me since we were in 10th and 11th grade. I don't think I would've survived all these experiences without him there promising to support me no matter the outcomes.

There's no happy ending. I'm numb and tired, I still haven't found a desire to eat, and I'm never going to know what it feels like to not be in pain. My joints have been hurting more and more every year and I think I'll need mobility support soon but don't know how to approach it, my hands have been hurting more and more and yet art is what helps me to maintain the headspace I need to not fall into codependent sniveling.

Thank you for reading. No matter the medical path you choose, I hope you find nothing but healing and happiness. No matter the diagnosis, I hope it takes you on the path to the most fulfilling life you can.