#tw; medications

[compassionatereminders]

The worst thing is that there is so much potential for exploring the horror of psych wards from the angle of medical abuse, ableism, forced treatment/drugging, loss of autonomy, power imbalance, demonization, dehumanization, etc, and YET the horror genre keeps defaulting to "insane asylums and psych wards are scary because there are mentally ill people in there"

[ruporas]

dragon meat, you, and me

[rhinexstone]

My fav version of poison ivys power origin story is a lá Thorns (medically tortured as a kid) and when she learns about a literal child following batman around she FREAKS OUT.

Ivy gets batman alone then serves him a total curveball: she wants to vaccinate Robin from most of her toxins. Bruce thinks it’s a trap until word on the street is that Scarecrow and joker had multiple poisons stolen. He confronts ivy and she admits to stealing them but it’s for the proposed vaccine for Robin.

The rules are that he’s not allowed any samples of the vaccine, and Robin stays with her for three hours for the vaccine to fully absorb into his system. Batman can stay with him, but only in the same room as she might need to use lab equipment.

So every Robin gets the very odd experience of having their biannual vaccine from Dr. Poison Ivy, where they are all on their best behavior and get biodegradable stickers while Bruce just very patiently sits next to them like >:| with one of those temperature guns aimed at their heads

[whatcha-thinkin]

Tell your stories in the tags, if you want to share!

[fatliberation]

anti-fatness is not just body shaming.

anti-fatness is discrimination. anti-fatness is having next to no legal protections for being discriminated against. anti-fatness is being denied housing, jobs, receiving less pay and promotions (legally) because of your size. anti-fatness is being denied access to clothing, seating, transportation, and other human rights because infrastructure has been designed to exclude you. anti-fatness is less likelihood of receiving a fair trial. anti-fatness is dehumanization. anti-fatness is being denied necessary surgeries, but not surgery that amputates the digestive tract with the intent to starve and shrink you (it doesn’t work either). anti-fatness is mutilation. anti-fatness is being subject to torture devices that bolt your mouth shut. anti-fatness is being told by close friends, family, and professionals that you are better off living with an eating disorder or other life-threatening illness. anti-fatness sells you starvation as a guaranteed opt-out of oppression, but doesn’t tell you that bodies will always regain weight to survive. anti-fatness blames and punishes you for failing at an achievement that is quite literally impossible. anti-fatness is a $90 billion dollar industry. anti-fatness is being denied gender-affirming care. anti-fatness is being barred from in vitro fertilization and reproductive healthcare. anti-fatness is being barred from adopting children. anti-fatness is being removed from your loving parents because they couldn’t make you thin. anti-fatness is intentionally starving your own baby so they won’t get fat. anti-fatness is disproportionately high suicide rates. anti-fatness is being killed at the hands of medical neglect and mistreatment. anti-fatness is the world preferring a dead body over a fat one.

[cowboylexapro]

look at my doctors dawg im gonna die

[uncanny-tranny]

Fat people deserve mobility aids, too. No matter if it's connected to their fatness or not, because having a mobility issue that is connected to one's fatness won't change that they're still fat and still have the issue at hand. Fat people don't deserve to "tough it out" because fatness should be this divine punishment doled out to those who "deserve" it. Fat disabled people deserve to have the peace of mind that they can exist in whatever way is most comfortable and accessible to them

[headspace-hotel]

How medical procedures were introduced to me in most of my life: We're going to do [X], okay? (Already doing X without waiting for me to answer)

How I would want a doctor to introduce a medical procedure: I'm going to explain the most common way we do [X], and all the tools and steps that are usually involved. Then we can talk about whether this sounds okay to you and how we can change and adjust things that sound uncomfortable, or if we would need to try an alternative.

I desperately wish all medical professionals would refrain from using the phrase "We're going to do [thing]," because this obviously implies I have no choice and feels to me like "This is happening immediately."

A lot of otherwise nice nurses and doctors will say they're "going to" do something when they're asking for consent, but it triggers my panic and doesn't feel like i'm really being asked

[go-star-sailor]

homoerotic wellness checkup

[dailyhistoryposts]

Dora Richter

Dora Rudolfine Richter/Dora Rudolfa Richterová (1892-1966) was the first known person to undergo a complete surgical transition. Born to a poor farming family, she was immediately noted to be feminine in her actions and dressed as a girl. In 1916, she was encouraged to go to Magnus Hirschfeld's medical practice.

Officially living as a man (and arrested multiple times for dressing as a woman), she worked at the Hirschfeld Institute for Sexual Research, and over 9 years had multiple surgeries, including being the first transgender woman to undergo vaginoplasty.

In May 1933, students attacked the Hirschfeld Institute and all records were burned. Richter, like many others, was presumed dead, but had successfully escaped to Czechoslovakia, and later Bavaria. She lived until the age of 74, where she was remembered as a sweet old woman who fed the birds and let them nest in her handbag.

[faeriekit]

"Okay." Danny slowly laid the already cold body back onto the table, ready to slide back it into the refuge of cold storage. "Okay. Dead guy. Stay there."

The body didn't move.

"Fantastic. Now. Hang out while I pour the embalming fluid into the pump, alright? It should only be a minute."

And it usually did; working in a funeral home wasn't extremely glamorous, but it paid the bills, and Danny had already been used to the rhyme and rhythm of negotiating death with the public by the time he sent in his mortuary school application. It had been a transition that made sense. And in the end, the degree had only cost him a few extra years post-graduation and a little dig into student loans, and now Danny had a stable 12-8 job and health insurance valid in the state of new jersey.

Today, though, the pump had that decided enough was enough. With a bang and a boom, the pump spat out a cloud of smoke and clunked uncomfortably.

The dead body sat up.

Danny scrambled over to push it back down. "No. We talked about this. Dead people don't move. If you want to stay here and have me put you back together all the time, you have to stay put. Got it?"

Whatever the weird gold-eye corpses were on in Gotham, they at least listened to him on occasion. They weren't ghosts, per se— they never pinged on any of the ghost detection devices Mom and Dad had packed in his going-away-to-college bag— but they were, despite being occasionally animate, perfectly deceased.

Weird. Danny had never gotten used to it. Still, they came in droves, too eager to sit on the top of the basement stairwell and lurk in the corners and stare endlessly at them with their weird, avian eyes, and sometimes they heralded the arrival similarly weird-ass bodies that had lost their heads or their arms or their limbs through the more conventional channels.

"I'm losing too much thread to all y'all coming in all the time," Danny complained to the dead body, who, at the moment, was the only person present to blame. "Stop getting your limbs cut off. This stuff is expensive, you know. It's a specialty order."

The body didn't even have the courtesy to blink. Rude.

"At least let them bury you this time. Every time one of you darts off when my back's turned, my boss thinks I'm stealing corpses. My coworkers think I'm building my own Frankenstein or something."

The corpse neither verbalized nor blinked, but Danny hadn't expected it to; with a sigh, he rolled the corpse back into cold storage, locked its little door (not that locking it in had ever stopped it) and called it quits for the night.

It's not like anyone was paying him for the extra hours anyway.

The whole fic on ao3

[oblique-lane]

Cemetery of Doves

[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

Can we please for the love of god stop telling teenagers they’re too young to have aches and pains. Can we please stop being dismissive about these things. Fakeclaiming is disgusting period, but it is exponentially harmful to youth. Just because you didn’t start hurting until your 20s or 30s or 40s doesn’t mean every teenager complaining of chronic pain must be lying. I learned the hard way that if kids are invalidated enough about this, they will just learn to accept constant pain as a fact of life. And then they will need surgery they can’t afford in ten years bc it turns out constant pain is NOT a fact of life. At any age.

p.s. same goes for mental health

[meliorism-numinous]

Some Sebastian Angst as I contemplate what to do next with him, open to suggestions!

[fanart-with-a-fruity-edge]

TW for blood

Stayed up way too late drawing my boys & am too tired to think of a caption rn, but wanted to post anyway ✌️

[thebibliosphere]

I was thinking about this a lot yesterday, but one of the things I really struggle with post almost dying in 2019, was how almost every medical provider focused on the effects of the trauma and not the actual physical fallout.

Like, yes. It was immensely traumatic and trauma profoundly affects the brain, but with hindsight (and by hindsight I mean I’ve been grinding my gears over this for the last four years) I can’t help but feel the ball got lobbed over the “mental health” fence a little too quickly.

I had fucking hypoxia, for God’s sake.

Why was no one more concerned that I can’t remember things or that my skill level as a writer and editor dropped substantially in the aftermath. (I’ve gradually regained most of it, but there are still things I have to pause and look up that were once second nature to me. I hate it. It’s traumatic every time it happens because there’s just a blank hole where Knowledge used to be and God dammit I worked hard for that and now it’s tumbleweed.)

And I know the answer is Covid. I know the world shut down just as I started getting answers and I’m one of the lucky ones because I’m still here. But fuck me. I don’t know how they expected me to CBT and mindfulness my way out of that one.