#which is a chronic symptom I haven’t had for a while

[weirdstrangeandawful]

Oh please please please don’t let me have covid…

My body genuinely cannot take another round of it. Especially not just 7 months after the first time.

[talkethtothehandeth]

“Doctor shopping.” Let’s talk about her.

If you’re disabled you’ve probably heard of this before— if you haven’t, or you’re just unfamiliar in general, or an ableist who says this shit, let’s talk about it <3 because the definition has been overtaken and pissed on by more ableist bitches than the ones who demonized addiction within the medical field and caused this term to exist.

So, “doctor shopping” is actually originated from the people who oversee healthcare, which includes any non medical professionals who are involved in the process as well, like big pharma. It’s been defined (in medical related research journals, not just on social media/ the internet), as “a patient consultation with multiple physicians in a short time frame with the explicit intent to deceive them in order to obtain controlled substances.”

However, you hear in the community, from ableist ableds or even ableist disabled people who are like fucking rabid and frothing at the mouth, gnashing their teeth while flipping over the tiniest of pebbles to find “fakers”, (which is usually an AFAB person with multiple conditions that are followed by a slew of symptoms ranging in prevalence and severity, or someone that doesn’t “seem disabled” who becomes a target). So they call it “doctor shopping” when they see chronically ill or disabled people continue to advocate for themselves by going to countless appointments to try to find out what is causing their health to decline. They (ableists) think that by changing providers or continuing to pursue a diagnosis between multiple providers constitutes doctor shopping. It isn’t our desire, and it’s absolutely exhausting and painful when you’re left with no answers.

If I had not gone to the ER multiple times within two months, I would have died. The fluids kept me alive, and the medicine helped. My mom was preparing my dad for my death, and my fiancée was petrified of losing me because my condition continued to declined. But the entire time I was there, I was terrified of asking for medicine because I didn’t want to be labeled a drug seeker, especially because I’ve been open (for my safety) about using marijuana products. I was crying from how bad it was, my blood pressure was in stage two hypertension from the stress on my body.

They said it was, “nothing to worry about” when I saw my nutrition levels were low. My doctor wants a comprehensive metabolic panel because it is something to worry about because my symptoms were severe. And I had to see another doctor, but that facility ignored me for two months while my pcp and I tried working it out with them. They fucked around with my health for two fucking months. So I had to find a different person, and when I went to her she ordered a procedure, which meant a different facility, which means, yet again a different provider. I even had to go to a different hospital at one point for more tests.

Believe me, we don’t want to go to all of these appointments or see all of these doctors because, half of the time, even though there is something wrong with us, they don’t listen. We don’t want to go back and forth and get more medical trauma just for fun or for a silly little made up diagnosis competition bullshit.

People don’t change their doctors because they want to collect diagnoses like Pokémon, people do it because they want to live comfortably, or at the very least suffer less by finding some sort of direction to move towards to better their own health. I was literally preparing to die from medical neglect, because I did my absolute best and still, to this day, don’t have answers. If I hadn’t sought out more providers, I probably wouldn’t have been able to write this post. I’d be dead already.

This desperate desire to cherry pick what someone shares on the internet about their health and literally fucking stalk people on their social media accounts while looking for any sign that someone could potentially be faking their symptoms is, unfortunately, accepted due to disabled people hating themselves, and ableds hating disabled people. It’s that simple, in my mind.

Other peoples’ bodies, disabilities or symptoms are none of your fucking business, and, yes, this includes the things we decide to share. Disabled people share what we want to, and we live in our bodies 24/7. And some of you really need to sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up about how disabled people manage their health care.

I’m not saying there aren’t people who fake conditions, but I am saying that it’s far less than what you choose to believe. You say you want to protect “actually” disabled people by weeding out fakers, when all you’re doing is harming actually disabled people by playing Sick Olympics™️ and accusing them of faking when they’re just trying to seek out life saving treatment— which includes seeing multiple providers to dig deeper for a diagnosis, no matter how rare or outlandish you think it is. You don’t get a medal for harassing disabled people, you’re just a piece of shit.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Do you think William's reputation will survive? I feel so sorry for him and Catherine, I had to take a break from social media, the affair rumors are everywhere, everyone is now believing he had an affair, foreign media is now talking about him fathering an illegitimate child with Rose, they are even accusing him of domestic violence and people take it all as a fact.

In the long term big picture, William will be fine. A lot of this is going to be just a paragraph or two when he’s Charles’s age and we’re celebrating a jubilee or the birth of George’s child or Louis’s wedding or Charlotte leading the Lionesses to Olympic Gold and World Cup medals.

But in the short term, yes, William’s reputation will take a hit. What he does next will determine how long it takes for his reputation to climb back up. There are three things that he can do:

Prove that everyone is wrong, that his marriage is fine and he does not have anger management issues.

Go away and not be in the news for a few weeks or months till everyone’s forgotten.

Work. Really crank out the engagements, get his numbers up to spitting distance of Edward’s, and maintain them at that baseline from here on out.

#1 requires becoming more public, and we know that’s not going to happen for the Waleses. That’s fine. History will have to judge on that one. But there is some good news on this front - the Chumleys have had enough and they’ve begun taking legal action on the rumors involving them and their children.

#2 is not happening. William can’t just peace out and not work or be seen for 3-4 months. He’s the heir, it’s his job to be seen and to work, especially when Charles can’t do much because of his own health.

Which leaves us with #3 - work. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. William (and Kate) both need to work more. Their numbers both need to go way up once Kate’s current health crisis is over and she’s back to top form. If they’re not going to work more, that’s fine but they need to show us more of the in-progress work that they’re currently doing and not save it all for the bow-on-top end-result. There’s a reason why the photos and videos of The Queen and Charles working through the red boxes are popular and, at times, iconic - because it shows that they’re working. If just every other week we got a photo of William in a meeting or Kate reading the reports that the Early Years Foundation says she’s been reviewing.

However, the issue with William’s work is that it can’t be a one-and-done. What ever changes they make and whatever the new number is after they’ve scaled up, that has to be the new baseline, the new standard. It must be maintained, otherwise it becomes clear that it was just a PR exercise to distract from these scandals.

Something else I’ve been thinking of a bit lately is the Waleses’ engagement numbers, particularly Kate’s and since accession in 2022. There was a lot of talk throughout 2023 of how disappointing it was that the Waleses turned in the same numbers for 2023 as they did while they were Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, at the bottom of the list. There was an idea on the blogs that everyone understood William and Kate to keep a lower profile through the spring so the attention was rightly focused on Charles and the coronation, but then they’ve should’ve scaled up from late summer onwards, after the anniversary of The Queen’s passing to demonstrate their ability to be heirs and show acceptance of their future.

But now I wonder if Kate’s numbers have been affected by her condition. They haven’t said a whole lot, but what I know of bowel/stomach issues is that they’re usually chronic and people can suffer symptoms for a long time before surgery becomes an option. So with that, perhaps Kate’s numbers didn’t change much last year because she was dealing with these issues? And to save face, the palace made the usual “for the children” excuses until it became emergent and the surgery essential. Just something to think about.

[woso-fan13]

28. Chronic Illness

“.. I’m a cancer, so obviously it didn’t work,” Alex finishes her sentence as you walk into the room. 

“Really?” You ask, perking up, “me too. We’re twins, even if it’s not the best thing to twin with.”

Alex startles slightly when your voice is first heard behind her. Turning around, she smiles and motions you into the conversation. There were no seats open so you walk over and plunk into her lap, making yourself comfortable. 

“Wait, Y/N, isn’t your birthday in February?” Rose asks. 

“Yeah?” You respond, somewhat confused. 

“How can you be a cancer then?” she questions. 

“Is that what you said?” you ask, looking up to Alex, “I thought you said that you had cancer. I need to start paying better attention when other people talk.” 

The conversation continues for another moment until the room suddenly goes quiet. It seems like everyone processed what you said at the same time. 

“Kid, why did you say we were twins earlier?” Alex asks hesitantly, unsure if she wants to know the answer. 

“Hmm? Oh, that! I misheard you, I thought that you said that you had cancer.”

“I know that, but I am a cancer. You’re not,” she tries to rationalize. 

“I’m not, I’m an aquarius,” you affirm. 

“So you’re not a cancer?” 

“I’m not a cancer,” you pause, “but I do have cancer, so I can see the confusion.”

Everyone had been trying to piece the conversation together, so they had an idea of what you were going to say. Still, hearing you say those simple words caused some players to let out exaggerated gasps. You turn your head to the sound, furrowing your brow. 

“Is this news?” 

Frantic heads nodding confirms that this is, in fact, news to them. Everyone looked like they wanted to talk, but nobody could find the words. Thankfully, you had become a master of handling awkward conversations, so you could handle this. 

“I’ve had it for a while now, I just always assumed that you guys knew. I had leukemia when I was a toddler, but I don’t remember that. But it put me at higher risk of developing cancer again, and I relapsed about 3 years ago. After about 2 years, so last year, I went into remission. I was only in remission for a few months when tests confirmed that I had relapsed again. So I’ve been doing my treatment and everything, I’ve just been timing it so that the worst of the symptoms are over when I get to camp.”

“And I know, health always comes first. And I promise, I’m taking it really seriously. I have a great oncologist and a stable treatment plan, and I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing. I haven’t been playing as much, Vlatko always pulls me out of practice early. And he never lets me play a full 90 anymore, but at least I'm playing. I'm doing what I love.”

—-

Everything was going according to schedule until it wasn’t. One of the games got moved up, so camp was a week earlier than it should have been. Which left you scrambling from chemo directly to the airport and still arriving late to camp. 

You had gotten a pass from Vlatko to sit out on team dinner and game analysis that night, instead finding your room and falling asleep as soon as you could. The day had been long and hard, and you knew the upcoming days would likely be rough. But you were determined not to get sick, to prove that you were strong. You really thought that you could ‘mind over matter’ your post-chemo symptoms away. 

Matter won out around 7am, when your eyes suddenly opened. The all too familiar feeling was back and left you racing for the bathroom. You barely make it in time, the bathroom door is still open and the lights off, but you made it to the toilet, so that was a win. 

You proceed to begin to lose any stomach contents that you may have. It’s not much, breakfast and a snack from the flight, but your body is insistent that it needs to get rid of it. 

You’re so busy that you don’t hear the light footsteps behind you. You’re making enough noise and so stuck in your own head that you don’t hear the faucet turn on, the tap running cool water onto some wash clothes. You don’t even notice anyone approaching you until they are squatting directly behind you. 

Your body is exhausted, ready for unconsciousness any way it can get it. An arm wraps around you from behind, across your chest, effectively preventing you from falling forward. The arm pulls you back into a warm body, Alex’s, her vanilla perfume giving her away. 

You tip your head back, half-lidded eyes looking up to her. She smiles sadly down at you, using one of the damp wash clothes to wipe your face. She wipes around your mouth, folding the fabric over before wiping the rest of your face.

When she finishes, she throws the dirty cloth into the bathtub behind her. She takes the other clean washcloth, draping across the back of your neck. The cool water feels nice, somehow helping the nausea. 

This is not a position that you ever wanted your teammates to see you in. But, here you were, cradled in Alex’s arms, one of her arms supporting your body and her free hand holding the cloth onto you. She was cooing and shushing you gently, trying to stop the involuntary whimpers that kept leaving your mouth. She wasn’t running away disgusted or ignoring you as you worried she might. She was just there 

And you knew that her solid presence would be there whenever you needed. 

[tethered-heartstrings]

genuinely not trying to dunk on molly but when ppl say will and molly were so compatible they loved dogs i just think of molly feeding them canned food from china and not even knowing it could harm the dogs, i feel like this is significant because this was what led to dolarhyde being undetected and her attack which led to her estrangement from will, even her common values w will she did not actually share at all there's a meta here

ngl this is pretty clearly dunking on molly. But let’s refute. I personally haven’t seen many metas/posts about the compatibility between will and molly, so I can’t really contest what they say. However, will and her were as compatible as will led her to believe, as much as he would let. He lied to her about his past, which made it so she couldn’t know all of him and couldn’t connect to parts she couldn’t see. Not a fault of molly’s at all

Having looked back on the script for that episode, no credible veterinarian would ever say “was it canned food from china”. It’s unprofessional and xenophobic. Also, a vet in an emergency situation isn’t going to use scare tactics. They just need to know what went in so they can take care of it. Yes, molly was feeding the dogs canned food because will was out of town so he couldn’t make them food. and I can guarantee will is rational enough to say “hey, these brands are okay” and molly isn’t stupid. And they are very well off, so they would need to buy “cheap dog food from china”. If we want to talk about the dialogue in that scene, we have to admit to ourselves fuller is a misogynist who can’t write women, so ofc he made her say “is it bad to be made in china”. It also neglects how SOME but not ALL food has shown problems, but dog food made in the US has also had toxicity issues! And (I can’t remember if this was in show or just in script) the vet says “pet food safety isn't regulated the same way as human food” which is just false. There is high regulation in pet food, and pet food is made to be human grade and safe for human consumption (and has been for decades). Dogs are more likely to be poisoned by xylitol or chocolate from your candy or get pancreatitis from your table scraps than die from “dog food from china”.

But let’s humor for a second it was the cheap dog food molly bought. The concern and toxic component is melamine, which is added to food to fraudulently increase the protein content. it’s nontoxic (ish) by itself and only becomes a problem when combined with cyanuric acid that forms a crystal and leads to renal toxicosis and failure. Some gi biomes have bacteria that can convert melamine to cyanuric acid, but not all, making it more toxic for these patients. It also wasn’t solely a dog food thing, it happened in human children, too. All that aside, most melamine toxicosis cases are chronic, aka molly would have had to feed the dogs for a while, building up these crystals, and slowly killing the kidneys. This wouldn’t happen suddenly to all the dogs at once. Early signs of toxicosis are very detectable symptoms (vomiting, polyuria, polydipsia, lethargy) and these are signs molly would have noticed and done something about. ALSO if it was melamine the veterinarian was worried about, she wouldn’t use activated charcoal as her treatment (as she states in script, again, don’t remember if this was said in the show). Activated charcoal only works for something currently in the stomach, and that isn’t the pathophysiology for melamine. To treat melamine toxicity, you need iv fluids and supportive care. So what we can take from the veterinarian interaction is 1) fuller doesn’t know how medical professional talk to clients and 2) he doesn’t even understand the toxin he mentioned so it feels xenophobic as fuck to even bring that up.

And no, her canon (fuck you fuller) ignorance to the danger of canned dog food isn’t the cause of dolarhyde being undetected and attacking her. Even if she was feeding them dog food with melamine, Will literally figures out and says that dolarhyde poisons the dogs in the family to get rid of the “alarm system”, so he can attack and not have the family alerted. It didn’t matter what dog food molly fed them, dolarhyde intentionally poisoned them. Even if she fed them food will handmade, dolarhyde would have still poisoned them. And she was a good owner who brought all 7 (probably) puking dogs to the vet as soon as she could. molly had nothing to do with dolarhyde attacking her. dolarhyde had something to do with dolarhyde attacking her (and hannibal ofc). At least give her some credit for, you know, surviving

And no, her getting attacked was not the cause of will estranging himself from her. He never really loved her and used her as a fill in for a man he outright rejected. He was having an emotional affair with Hannibal and not giving a shit about molly. That was nothing molly could control.

And we really can’t thoroughly discuss her values because we barely see her onscreen. Her screentime is a plot motivator, we aren’t privy to who she is as a person. She loves her son, lost her first husband, and loves will. That’s kind of it. Oh, yeah, she also takes her son fishing without Fisherman Husband because he chose to estrange himself.

[greenokapi]

So… what do y’all do when you wanna do a bajillion things but you can’t settle on which thing to do so you just kind of end up doing nothing?

… lissen I’m still only recently diagnosed with adhd so I still don’t know how to work with it… I wanna draw so many things, wanna make merch, comics, I wanna write a fuckton of silly cringe fanfics… I wanna make videos? Like maybe youtube videos rambling abt stuff while drawing but then I don’t know if anyone would even be interested in that, and besides I haven’t done video editing in…. Probably close to 20years? What program should I use? Anyone got any tips on that?

I also wanna make stuff, lil bead things like these guys I made a while ago for example

I also wanna try doll customization cause it’s kinda only been the last decade or so where I’ve allowed myself to like dolls… reasons for that being … uh… gender stuff… it’s like only now in my life, around 30 have I finally gotten somewhat close to getting a grasp on my gender and sexuality, and I never even really realized before that this was something I had a problem with? Which probably makes no sense tbh…

I also wanna do sculpting and even paint, after art school teachers made me feel like I should never paint again bcs idk man I wasn’t up to their standards 🤷

And… I wanna do all this stuff but not only does brain say ‘adhd my guy’ but there’s also my increasing health issues that… I mean I’ve always had them but I guess getting older makes it harder and harder to constantly deal with them… and that’s another thing I never really realized was so bad until back when I was in Japan in 2015-2016 as an exchange student and would have to go to the hospital increasingly often bcs of pain nobody could diagnose… aand then I was shamed for it bcs having to go to the hospital in the middle of the night sometimes was a huge hassle to the dorm staff, idk I was a problem…

Since then I’ve had two operations and will probably need to have more in the future. Also, amusingly, when I finally got diagnosed I was looking at the list of symptoms, all of which I could relate to in at least some way, but the ones that stood out, for some reason, were ‘constant exhaustion’ and then below it was ‘insomnia’ and… maybe I’m not actually lazy when I’m tired all the time? But y’know, I don’t really wanna use a chronic condition as an excuse to just do nothing, plenty of ppl have chronic problems but still do stuff with their life… but when I think like that I also remember this isn’t a ‘pain competition’ or something like that and different people just have different capabilities to deal with chronic pain and such… idk, I honestly think I’m still trying to come to terms with the realization that being exhausted and in pain all the time probably counts as some kind of disability….. but I don’t feel like I’m allowed to say I’m disabled bcs I do also have good days, you know? I should probably try harder to just DO things?

Ahem, it’s like 9AM and I haven’t been able to sleep and stuff hurts… I just wanna go do something productive but instead I’m whining on here which I probably shouldn’t do bcs this is the internet and strangers can see what you post and maybe use it against you but also sometimes you just really wanna rant into the void… or maybe more like semi-void cause idk, maybe someone reads this and can relate or give advice or just talk or something? Buuut you suck at talking… then later you feel embarrassed about your tired rambles and probably end up deleting them and just bring them up in therapy later like you should…

Anyway, until this embarrassment pops up I’m probably gonna try to find some painkillers and go draw or something -3-

[cleo-fox]

The “When Are You Updating?” Ask

I should say up front that this isn’t in response to anything I received. This topic came up in a Discord server that I’m in and another friend of mine got a similar ask shortly after.

I’ve alluded to the fact that this Tumblr isn’t my first account and that I’ve written for other fandoms previously. What I haven’t talked about is why I’m taking an extended hiatus from that fandom or why the majority of my work in this one has been one shots.

Historically, I’ve been a long fic writer. On my other pen name, I posted a long fic that had a fairly decent following in that particular corner of fandom. I’m a slow writer under normal circumstances but when the pandemic hit, I started having more trouble writing and my updates slowed a lot. I worked in a public facing role and the stress I was experiencing was unlike anything I’d ever dealt with before. About a year into the pandemic, I got pregnant.

To sum it up: I was pregnant, which put me at a higher risk for developing complications from Covid. I was working in a public facing role, which increased my risk of catching Covid and had the added factor of people being aggressive about not complying with mask mandates. Because of my pregnancy, I was not able to take critical medications, which then negatively affected my focus and energy levels. I was dealing with other chronic illnesses that were exacerbated or changed by pregnancy, as well as the physical symptoms of pregnancy itself. Then there was also the delivery, which had complications, as well as adjusting to life with a newborn and then going back to work.

I was upfront about all of this. I said that my fics weren’t abandoned, but that I didn’t know when the next update would be because I was dealing with a lot.

I still got asks asking why hadn’t I updated yet.

I knew that these asks came from a good, well-intentioned place. I loved that people were so excited about my writing that they wanted to read more. I loved that they cared so deeply about my characters. I didn’t want to sound ungrateful for their enthusiasm or their support, nor did I want to initiate a pile on with a snarky reply or make someone feel bad for asking a genuine question. I often struggled with how to word my replies, to find a way to be grateful for their enthusiasm while also reiterating that I had a lot on my plate and that I would write more someday, but that I didn’t know when someday was.

It didn’t seem to matter, though. No matter how many times I said the same thing, the asks still kept coming. The worst ones were the ones that scolded me for taking so long because the sender didn’t know how long they would be in this fandom or the ones that included the phrase “I know you had a baby but…” Those hurt. Those made me feel like people saw me as a content creation machine and not like a person.

Eventually, this started to negatively impact my desire to interact with that community, as well as my desire to write that story. When you log in and you know that there’s a good chance your inbox is going to have one of those notes, it’s hard to feel enthusiastic about logging in at all.

So I decided that I needed to take a break. I still check that pen name every so often and I still intend to finish those other fics, but I need some time. This pen name was created out of a desire to give myself the space to write on my own terms, and I’m grateful for all the people here who have let me do that.

And honestly? If you want a writer to update, it is far, far more effective to talk about what you love about their fic. There are so many times when I’ve been pulled out of a writing slump by a comment or reblog where someone talked about what they enjoyed about my fic. That kind of engagement is more motivating than a request for an update could ever be.

There’s that one post going around with the compilation of crazy AO3 author’s notes—the ones that are like “sorry this chapter is a day late, I spent the night in federal prison lmao.” It’s a great post and I love that there are people like that. I admire people who can create art despite their circumstances. But for every writer like that, there’s someone like me who’s going through some shit and doesn’t have the time or energy to write the same way that she does when things are going okay. I wish people would remember that.

TLDR: be kind.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I used to somewhat frequently get really bad chronic physical anxiety symptoms, like I’d mentally feel not that bad but I’d still feel dizzy and lightheaded and feel like throwing up and a bit numb everywhere and my chest would hurt, and then of course I’d worry that this means I’m dying so then I would start to feel anxious, and that would make it worse. I even went to the emergency room a couple of times when these feelings were accompanied by particularly severe chest pains. They hooked me up to machines and did all kinds of tests and eventually said it’s just that I’ve got so much anxiety happening so chronically that it’s causing physical symptoms to also happen chronically. That or there was some physical cause that they missed with all their EKG tests and breathing tests and blood tests and other things, which would be quite a coincidence, if I had my several different anxiety disorder diagnoses and also a different thing that caused all the same symptoms. I don't know. They did find my blood pressure runs low and tell me to eat more salt, and someone said something about a thyroid being a possibility but never followed it up. Maybe I should follow that up.

But these were weird and extra scary because they weren’t just happening during a panic attack, or while I was freaking out about something and I could make them go away by calming down. They’d come on with seemingly no warning and they wouldn’t go away and I hated it so much. There have been a few years in my life where this has happened regularly, most days, and I’ve generally had to make some major life change to get it to stop.

Outside of those few years, this has been something that happens occasionally, and it freaks me out, but I try to remind myself that I’ve had it before and it’ll pass, and it usually does within a few days. As of now I actually hadn’t had it for quite a while – not in that way where the physical symptoms just come on with no obvious warning or antecedent, that is. And yet it’s been happening all day today. I feel fucking terrible and I’m writing this post because of course I hope it’s just that again, but I can’t really know.

It’s really frustrating, because I’ve just gone three weeks without drinking for the first time in many years. And I’m pleased about that. But I’m always hearing and reading people saying that when they stopped drinking they felt so much better and healthier physically and psychologically, and I’ve had the opposite pretty much from the start, and it doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon my plan to cut back but it does seem unfair. To my justice-obsessed brain, if I have to live without doing that thing I really enjoy, which is drinking whiskey and watching old comedy videos every weekend, I’m supposed to feel better in exchange, not have my anxiety levels ramp up to the point where I’m dizzy and almost throwing up and a bunch of other physical symptoms that I could get from alcohol too, but at least if I got them from drinking then I’d have fun in he process. Last night I woke up in the middle of the night convinced the world was going to spin off its axis and I was dizzy and I couldn’t get back to sleep for two hours. That’s what’s supposed to happen during a drunk/hungover sleep, as a price I pay for having fun drinking. It’s not supposed to happen when I haven’t had a drink in three weeks.

I don't really know why any of this is happening because things are actually going relatively well right now, maybe it's low blood pressure. I'd just like to say, I feel cheated. I know that not drinking is still a good idea and it's what people should do and everything and it's what I'm doing, but I was promised that this would feel better in at least one way and I feel cheated because I'm still waking up in the middle of the night panicking and I'm still dizzy and lightheaded. It would sure be great if these symptoms would slow down before I have to go to work on Monday. This is exactly the sort of thing that I'm afraid of when I worry that I'm not functional enough to keep a fulltime in-person job longterm, that this sort of thing will happen when I'm working. Hasn't really happened since I started working in person last year, but it is now, so that's good. I'm living in a friend's house at, as the British say, mate's rates, but I still do have some rent to pay.

[legendoftortor]

personal vent on family/health/body image discussions below

I’ve been dealing with some really debilitating stomach pain and issues with eating over the last few weeks; I’ve dealt with this on and off since I had covid in February but it doesn’t seem to be going away this time. As someone with like six different chronic illnesses, I hate when new symptoms crop up out of nowhere because it’s always so hard to pin down what exactly is causing it.

I literally can’t drink or eat anything without being in immense pain and dealing with other debilitating symptoms, so I’ve been avoiding eating/drinking anything aside from a few sips of water to take medication during my work days just so I can function as normally as possible and eating just enough at the weekends to try and make up for it. It’s not ideal and it’s meant that I’m flaring other conditions of mine and I haven’t been able to go in office for work at all, but I can’t seem to get my coeliac specialist to call me back to try and pin down whether it’s something I need more tests for and my GP is shrugging me off, so I don’t feel like I have much of a choice at the moment. I think it may be gastroparesis (as it’s a comorbidity of two of my other conditions, but I’m just not sure because I’m not a doctor and I have so much else going on health wise)

I spoke to my mom for the first time in weeks last night, and was venting about how frustrating it is to not be able to eat normally and how it’s causing me all sorts of other issues, and all she had to say back was that ‘I could stand to lose a bit of weight’.

Like…what. the. fuck. I’m literally having to pretty much starve myself over here and am struggling and all you are willing to do is bring up my weight, which is something I’m already incredibly self-conscious about and feel like I have so little control over? I was just starting to come around after struggling with my mental health for weeks, and she’s gone and fucked it. She is so uncaring and unsympathetic to anything I’ve gone through in the last few years, and I will literally never be good enough for her, no matter what I do. She treats me like it’s all my fault or like I’m faking it, and it doesn’t matter how much concrete evidence I show her, or how many times my husband confirms what I say - she still acts like I’m a liar.

Apologies if I’m quiet on here for a while, I don’t want to be that person who’s always posting negative things so I may just lurk in the background for a bit until I feel a bit better.

[crippleprophet]

(feel free to not respond to this, hell feel free to be like “please don’t do this again”)

so i’ve had join problems for like 3 1/2 years now and they just got diagnosed like 2 week’s ago, turns out i have runners knee

so i feel bad because 1. it feels lit not as big of a deal as i feel like it is (it is a big deal, it’s impacted my life (thank you therapy))

2. i’m worried that pt and more exercise won’t make it better (i’m on my schools swim team, so 4 practices a week during the season, plus a swim meet on friday)

and 3. i feel like (at least for now) i need more support. my pt doesn’t start until february and i can’t remember the last day i haven’t been in pain or had sensations that are probably due to nerve wackiness. i have used a cane in the past and it has helped me immensely. but i feel bad for wanting something that works for both legs. i’ve literally have had 2 dreams about me having forearm crutches.

i’m just really exhausted, sorry for dumping this all on you rn, i feel like even though i was listened to i still was just told to exercise and loose weight

hey, it’s absolutely no problem & i’m so deeply sorry you’re dealing with this 💕💕

i’m gonna throw like a billion disclaimers on this that, in addition to my usual line about just being Some Guy on the internet, i am definitely responding from a place of trauma here - i don’t know your body & you are the authority on your experiences, i’m just tossing some stuff out there based on my experiences, which might be totally different in other (or underlying physical processes yadda yadda) ways. also like big tw for medical neglect

so. i ran cross country in high school and my joint pain originated in my left knee at age 16, no specific injury or incident, RICE etc barely did anything. xrays and mri showed nothing. tried cortisone shot, euflexxa injections, some sort of topical steroid that was originally used on racehorses, nothing. because i was a runner no one ever considered it could be anything but an orthopedic issue.

i had two exploratory arthroscopic surgeries (which i’ve since learned are as effective as a placebo) with extensive debridement - first dx, plica syndrome, “we have no idea why this was this bad,” cleared to run again after post-op PT, pain came back even worse after ~7 months.

second dx, grade II chondromalacia patellae aka runner’s knee. told never to run again. i knew in post-op PT that something was wrong, this wasn’t the same pain as recovery previously, it felt like the underlying issue was still there. this wasn’t pain of healing, it was making something else worse. my physical therapist didn’t believe me, just kept pushing me, literally told me once that there was no way i was in that much pain. the pattern of swelling, location & sensation of pain, nerve symptoms, etc never made sense to anyone, no matter how many people they called over to poke & prod.

i don’t think i’ll ever know why, especially when he then didn’t fucking do anything with this information, but one day he had me try a lumbar extension stretch. you know the scene in the little mermaid where she’s propping her upper body up with her arms on the rock, waves crashing behind her, triumphant music? it’s basically that pose. it was both the single most excruciating and relieving thing i’ve ever done; even my chronic migraine of 2 years lessened. but we proceeded on a normative linear recovery arc, i got cleared from PT, the pain was better but still there.

flash forward four more years of intensifying pain - first my other knee, then the bottoms of my feet, then more constant and prominent in my lower back, then my upper back & worsening of the neck pain i’d been told and believed was from looking down at books/phone, what i now know as neuropathy increasing all the while - using a cane, then forearm crutches, then a forearm rollator, then a mobility scooter, spending more & more time unable to leave the bed - and i stumbled across an article about ankylosing spondylitis that matched my history fucking eerily, right down to the car crash as a younger teenager. it turns out AS commonly first presents with knee pain, not back pain, in juveniles.

so here’s what i’m gonna tell you: even if it’s “only” chondromalacia, your pain is real and serious and you should listen to your body. and, with again the mega disclaimer that you might be experiencing something totally different, i gently suggest:

read my posts about AS. read my google doc about AS. read anybody’s posts and articles about anything that originates with knee pain, especially if it involves neuropathy.

keep tabs on your body and don’t believe anyone who tells you something is normal until you’ve investigated it for yourself. does your neck hurt? how much? how often? what about your upper spine, between your shoulders? your lower back?

try a lumbar extension stretch, just in case.

if you haven’t been to a rheumatologist before and it’s at all possible for you to do so, do it. if you have a GP and can get a blood workup from them instead, do that. more info on blood testing here - but keep in mind that negative blood work doesn’t rule anything out.

if you can get forearm crutches, one hundred thousand percent do it. make sure they’re sized properly - more info on that here.

do whatever you possibly can to shore up your trust in yourself and your experiences. surround yourself with as many people as possible, in person or online, who believe your pain and make you feel solid in your knowledge of yourself. i’m a big fan of putting up signs with reminders if you can. whether you have chondromalacia, something else, or a combination, your pain is real, it is disabling, and it is in your best interest to develop strategies to cope with the systemic gaslighting that is existing within an ableist society & medical system.

if there is literally anything at all i can do to encourage you, answer questions, etc, please feel free to dm me or send another ask any time. my whole fucking heart goes out to you - you are not the only one who’s been through this, and that is both the horror & deepest relief of chronic pain. so much love to you, may you receive everything you need.

[animebaby00]

Barbeques and Boundaries (Koushi Sugawara x IBS! Reader)

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m back with a new story! Only this time, things are a little bit different. 

So I’m going to share something about myself. Just like the reader within this story, I too, suffer from IBS, and for those who don’t know, it's a condition that affects the stomach and the intestinal tract. Certain foods can cause symptoms such as bloating, cramping, and difficulties using the bathroom. Different types exist such as IBS-D or IBS-C, and sometimes, someone can even suffer from both. 

It's a chronic illness and there is no cure but there are ways to quell its clutches. It occurred to me that I am someone who occasionally searches for fics about a reader who has a chronic illness and I have seen a few requesters on Tumblr and such who make the same requests. But overall, I haven’t found that many so I thought I’d write one myself to recognize those who also suffer from IBS or just chronic illnesses in general. 

I understand if this story isn’t for everyone, but it hits home for me in a lot of ways and I hope I can provide some support and understanding for my fellow individuals who go through the same thing. 

That being said, I hope you all enjoy :)

WARNING: Non-professional medical talk (I did indeed do research while also throwing in some of my own experiences) and sensitive, possibly triggering topics below. 

You loved being the secretary of the Karasuno Boy’s Volleyball Team. 

Sure, you had to take a lot of notes and keep records and create backup strategies which required a lot of deep concentration, but it wasn’t anything to bat an eyelash at. It brought you immense amounts of joy to be around so many fun, bright, wonderful individuals who never ceased to give you a good time. And it was something you deeply appreciated considering that it was your last year to be surrounded by it. 

Being a third year certainly had its perks, but at the same time, it came with aspects that you couldn’t really give a rats ass about. All the talk about “seniority” and “importance”. It meant nothing to you. People were people, no matter if they were a year or two younger than you. You all had goals, aspirations, things you wanted to do. 

You were content with what you had. The friends you had made and the connections you had created. You even had a stable boyfriend who was on the team as well and you absolutely adored him. 

All in all, you were just happy to be a part of the little family that you had all become, and you were a firm believer that family stuck together and told each other everything. 

“When all of these practice matches are over with, apparently the coaches are treating us all to some barbeque!”

Well…for the most part.

As soon as Daichi had said that, you knew there was no way around it. There was no smooth way to teeter-totter around without having to fully explain yourself. So you had no choice but to go along and act like everything was a-ok. 

But we all know that lies come back to bite, and boy oh boy did it bite you hard. 

A painful groan escaped your parted lips as you turned onto your side, a heating pad pressed up against your belly, its temperature on the highest setting.  

It had been a few hours since the barbeque that had put an end to the training camp that Karasuno had been invited to by Nekoma, and you had long retired to your room for the night with the easy excuse that you were just tired. And while that was true…

You made to leave out the part that you were absolutely suffering. 

It had hit you like a bus on your way back to the hotel you were all staying at. The uncomfortable, bloating pressure that occurred whenever you ate something that didn’t agree with you. And since you had just eaten mass amounts of rich proteins smothered in different sauces with a plethora of different vegetables and rice, it was impossible to name the culprit. 

Stupid bowels. Why couldn’t they just show you a bit of mercy? Couldn’t they have just waited to have a flare up when you were at home by yourself? Allow you to spend one, last, nice night with your friends before you head home tomorrow?

No, of course not. Because that would have been too easy. 

Now on your back, you puffed out an exasperated sigh, your left hand smoothing over your bare stomach. Even the soft cotton of your favorite sleepwear had been too restrictive, so you moved to a cropped, loose fitted tank top and your baggiest pair of sweatpants that were sitting as low as possible against your hip bone. 

Maybe you should have just swallowed your pride. Should have told everyone about how sensitive you were to food and how careful you had to be with portions. How you chose not to eat rice or bread as much as the average person because it helped with flare ups and that you always had heating pads and medications with you to help. 

But that little voice in the back of your head told you ‘No. It’s not necessary. They won’t understand. You’ve been fine all this time. What’s a little bit longer?”

Not many people knew about your condition, minus a few VERY close friends and family. Out of everyone on the team, only Kiyoko was aware of the issues you had with food. Knew why you never bought lunch from the cafeteria and why you had brought your own freshly made bentos to school every day since the 7th grade. She had even asked you that day if you would be okay and you brushed it off saying that you’d be fine.

On the bus ride back to the hotel, she had sent you several, worried glances, and it made your heart clench with guilt. 

You were thankful though, dear god you were thankful,  that he didn’t notice. 

But…you almost…wished he did. 

A small part of you wanted him to know. More for your sake than his. Each day that went by made you feel more and more guilty, especially now. 

You should be out there with him, spending time with him and all of your friends. Not cooped up in your room by yourself. You’d be miserable either way, regardless of the choice made,  but you would rather deal with it on your own than have someone ask you if you were okay every five minutes. 

Because explaining yourself didn’t sound too great either. 

“Ugh…” you muttered, half of your face buried in your pillow, “...This sucks.”

A buzz rumbled from your pocket, and you reached your arm downwards to pull your phone out, the screen bright and showing off a recent notification. It was a message. 

Immediately, your insides twisted into a pretzel, further adding to the discomfort once you saw who it was from. 

Suga: Hey baby, are you doing okay? 

You bit your lip.

Crap.

Using your arm, you hoisted yourself up onto your side, grimacing at the ache in your lower abdomen. 

You were well aware that there wasn’t much you could say, because no matter what, Sugawara would constantly check up on you for the duration of the night. Honestly, you thought he would have texted you a lot sooner, but his teammates had probably kept him on his toes ever since you had all gotten back to the hotel. 

Your index finger quickly typed a reply. 

I’m fine. Just tired. These last few days were pretty exhausting. 

Another text came only 30 seconds later. 

Suga: Yeah, I feel you there. But you looked pretty wiped on the bus. Almost like you were sick or something. 

A lump planted itself in your throat. 

So he HAD noticed. 

Another text pinged in your chat. 

Suga: I didn’t want to say anything to worry everyone else…but as soon as you left to go to your room I felt something was up. I would’ve texted sooner, but I had to help Coach give some pointers to Hinata and the others. 

A teeny smile fell onto your face. Called it. 

Don’t worry about it. I just need some rest is all. I’ll be totally fine by tomorrow. Promise. 

Suga: Okay…are you gonna come down for dinner in a bit? They’re serving hot pot tonight. 

Oof. You didn’t even want to THINK about food. And the barbeque had only ended a mere 4 hours ago! How the hell was everyone already hungry? 

It was then that you remembered the events of the last few days. Nonstop practicing, drills, stamina building exercises…

Sports required a lot of energy, and you were dealing with a team of 12 active, boisterous, growing young men so…you supposed it made sense. 

Your fingers typed out another reply. 

I don’t think so…I’m still…full from earlier. Honestly, I probably ate a little too much. I might not eat until tomorrow night ! Lol >.<

You hoped that the somewhat evident playfulness in your text would satiate him a bit. And it’s not like you were completely lying. You very well probably wouldn’t consume anything else until the next day or at least until you felt a bit emptier. 

The area surrounding you was dead silent as you waited for Sugawara to send you another text. 1 minute turned into 5, then 5 into 10. Maybe, just maybe, your silly banter worked and he dropped the topic completely. Or maybe he was dragged off by Daichi or Asahi, too busy to worry about you any further as they all sat down for dinner. 

Bleh. Once again, you grimaced at the throbbing pain in your stomach at the thought of food, hugging the heating pad harder against your skin. You’d probably suffer a bit of a burn later, but it was a small price to pay in comparison to your current predicament. 

Too lazy to pick up your phone again, you lifted your head up and glanced at the clock on the wall. 

6:45 PM.

It had been about 3 hours since you took your last dose of medication to try and help move things along, but you hadn’t had any urge to go and relieve yourself, further proving how royally you screwed yourself over. And that itself created another crappy (no pun intended) possibility.

Trips to the bathroom alllll night long. 

Lucky you.

For the millionth time in the last 5 minutes, you rolled over on your side, now scrunched up in a fetal position. 

You felt like absolute shit, inside and out. And not just physically. Mentally too. It’s not like you wanted to have this problem. To have to lie and make excuses for your own sake. To lock yourself in your room away from everyone because it was too painful to dress decently while simply sitting in a chair or on the floor because it felt like your insides were being pumped up like the tire on a bicycle. 

But…what else could you do? 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

You fiercely wiped at your eyes that had suddenly started overflowing with tears, far too upset to continue thinking about how pathetic you sounded in your own mind. About what the team must be saying about you right now. About…everything.

Since there wasn’t anything else to do, you supposed you could try and sleep. But you doubted it would be an easy feat with the tossing and turning you’d been doing for the last few hours to try and get somewhat comfortable. But sleep would allow the following day to come sooner, and you wanted nothing more than to be able to act somewhat normal again around everyone else. 

With all the strength you could muster, you pulled yourself up from your futon, hissing at the tightness that fell forwards in your gut when the force of gravity hit. Even though they were as low as possible on your waist, your sweatpants still felt like a vice grip. The light pressure of the elastic was still enough to make you uncomfortable, and you made the silent vow to take them off as soon as you were back in bed. 

You slowly sauntered over to the wall where the light switch was and reached your hand out towards it, index finger centimeters away…

When there was a knock at your door. 

You froze in place.

Shit. 

For the next few seconds, you remained still, hoping that whoever it was would assume that you were asleep and would go away so as to not bother you. 

However, your plan was short lived as another round of knocks rumbled from the other side of the door. And you then remembered that there were cracks underneath each one, making it possible for light to emit on the ground from the other side, and since the light in your room was still on…

Shit times two. 

You realized that there was no way out of this, so you did the only thing you could think of. As quickly as you could, you cleaned up the evidence of medication and your heating pad by shoving it all into your tote, then you grabbed an extra blanket and wrapped it fully around your torso, making sure everything was hidden.

Now that you were somewhat satisfied, you allowed your legs to carry you to the door of your room. Grabbing the handle, you pulled, allowing just enough space to open so you could see who was on the other side. 

And when you did, your stomach flipped. 

Light gray hair, pale skin, and kind hazel eyes, the left one accented by a dashing little birthmark that creased when he smiled. 

You swallowed. 

“S-Suga?”

“Hey.” he waved, his lips stretching upwards into a smile at the sight of you, “Can I come in?”

“I…uh…”

Come on come on come on! Say something! Before he notices something’s up! 

“T-totally! Y-yeah! …O-of course.”

Oh my GOD I am so blowing this…

You moved out of the way to allow Sugawara to enter, trying to hide the grimace on your face at both your cringiness and the ebbs of pain that were still dancing throughout your abdomen. Closing the door, you turned back around to find that Suga was making his way now to the small chabudai that sat in the middle of the room next to your futon.

A cold sweat suddenly arose on the back of your neck as you made your way over to him. 

“Not that I uh…mind your company but…what are you doing here? I thought you were having dinner with everyone else.” 

At the sound of your voice, Sugawara looked up at you and smiled softly, a nonchalant hand waving off to the side. 

“I was.” he answered simply, moving his body to sit, “But when I saw your text I got worried so I wanted to come and make sure you were okay.”

“I-I see…”

Of course he did. Because Sugawara wouldn't be Sugawara if he didn't.

You lowered yourself down to sit across from him, and your eyes caught sight of a white bag at his side, a red logo marked and crinkled across the front, closed off to the point where you couldn't make out anything inside. 

“What’s with the bag?” you inquired, and Sugawara merely grinned and lifted it up so that it was now on top of the chabudai. 

“Nothing much really…actually it caught me by surprise, but there’s a small convenience store on the bottom floor. Hot pot sounded a little too heavy so I grabbed a few things to snack on instead, along with some other things.” 

You watched quietly as Sugawara pulled what looked to be a package of onigiri from the bag, along with 2 bottles of barley tea. He stopped his actions, hand still in the bag, and looked over at you.

“Is your stomach still bothering you?”

You flinched a bit. 

Of all the topics to bring up. But you couldn’t stay silent, so instead, you nodded. 

“Yeah...a little bit.”

Understatement.

But as soon as you said that, Suga’s face lit up even more, and you quietly watched as he rummaged about in the bag. 

“I had a feeling.” he chirped happily, “ I wasn’t sure if you had anything but I didn’t want to call you and defeat the purpose. So I just thought I would grab a few things to help.”

One by one, he pulled a few different objects out from their confines, holding each one up for you to see. 

“We have some acid reducers, indigestion tablets, ginger tea, and I even picked up some instant rice porridge and miso soup for you. I know you aren’t very hungry now, but you should try and eat something light when you can.” 

The ball of anxiety in your stomach only continued to grow the more Sugawara talked. He had gone to all this trouble to make you feel better. Had taken time away from his team to come and check on you…

And you didn’t have the gall to tell him that none of it would do any good. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” 

“W-what?”

It didn’t register that Sugawara had stopped talking. Not only that, but he had moved significantly closer to you. His hand was now resting on your thigh, and the other was slowly moving to lay against your forehead. You were totally frozen as he swept your bangs to the side, his finger soft and chilled against your flushed skin. 

“You feel warm,” he noted, the smile on his face disappearing, “You don’t have a fever do you?”

Sighing, you shook your head, both of your hands coming up to cup his palm in between your own, causing the blanket that had been around your shoulders to fall to the floor.

It was at that moment you decided that enough was enough.

“No…I don’t. And I don’t have an upset stomach either…not in the way you think, that is.”

Sugawara blinked.

“What do you mean?" 

Biting your lip, you looked him in the eye, the utmost sincerity floating in your E/C orbs. 

“Listen…I appreciate you coming here to try and help. And I can’t begin to tell you how sweet and thoughtful you are. But…none of this stuff is going to help me.”

Here goes…

“I’ve been…keeping something from you…for awhile. And I’ve wanted to tell you for the longest time but I wasn’t sure how. It’s not exactly the easiest thing to explain nor is it the easiest thing to deal with but…I can’t hide it from you anymore.”

And thus, you told him everything, including a full description about what IBS actually was. 

Your first experiences with it, what it can do to your body, what you did to try and quell it. How you didn’t exactly have to refrain from eating certain foods, but you knew what could happen as a result if something didn’t agree with you so you were always careful. How it made you nervous in larger gatherings and stumped your social life. You explained the medications you took, your methods of care, and what a flare up was.

And he caught on just like you thought he would.

“So when you went to your room to rest tonight” he said slowly, “You were actually…?”

“Having a flare up?” you finished, “Yeah…that’s right.”

“And…on the bus?”

“Mmhm…that’s when it started.”

Pressing his lips together, Sugawara looked downwards at your midsection, and you could see the resentment dancing in his eyes. With a fond smile, you moved to wrap your arms around his torso, nose burying itself in his hair. Hands made their way up your back, and you hummed as Sugawara pulled you close to him, and you had to make a note at how carefully he was holding you, as if any form of strength would cause you pain. 

He was seriously too considerate for words. 

“Hey, don’t go beating yourself up over this.” you urged softly, “ I’ll be okay.”

“I know.” he whispered, his thumb delicately stroking your back, “But I wish there was something I could do. I can’t begin to imagine how uncomfortable you must be right now…”

Moving his hands to your shoulders, he gently pushed you back, his pretty hazel eyes burning with the desire to assist. 

“Is there anything else you usually do to…you know…help get things moving? Anything at all?”

“Not really…” you murmured,“...I mean there’s…one way… but I don’t think you-”

“What is it?” he butted in, but you only frowned and shook your head. 

“No, no, really...it’s fine.” You looked shamefully off to the side, your voice growing quiet, “It might not even work anyways  N-not to mention it's kinda…gross…”

It wasn’t too long after you said that before you felt the grip on your shoulders loosen, and a new sensation of fingers under your chin took its place. Your head was guided forwards once more, leaving you with no choice but to become locked in Sugawara’s gaze, his expression an odd combination of sweet and confused. 

“I could never be grossed out by you.” he whispered, “ Never in a million years. Besides, isn't it kind of biased for you to say that when I don’t even know what it is?”

You pressed your lips together “I-” 

“Y/N, I WANT to help you.” he stated firmly, “ After hearing all of this, there is no way I’m just going to leave you as you are without doing anything. That’s not the kind of person I am. Right now, you are my top priority. Nothing else. And now that the situation is out in the open, I want to address it however I can. So please…”

With the hand that wasn’t under your chin, he moved it so that it rested on his chest, directly over his heart. 

“What can I do to help you?”

You were hesitant for a moment, but Sugawara’s calm expression and thoughtful words made any remaining nervousness you had ebb away. 

And then, your resolve was clear.

You looked at the hand on his chest and gently grabbed it, your fingers soft around his own. 

“Here,” you tugged, “Let’s go over to the futon. It’ll be… easier for me to explain if I’m lying down.”

(A/N: yesyesyes ik. it sounds suspicious. but it's not going where you think it’s going so no gutter brain here okie?)

Sugawara nodded and followed your lead, and after only a couple dozen seconds, you were laid out before him with him sitting criss-cross applesauce at your side, eyeing your every move. 

“Okay so I left something out earlier.” you started, “But I have this massager thingy at my house. People usually use it for their backs and shoulders, but I thought that maybe it would be useful for me to have whenever something like this happens. And it usually helps relieve the pressure a bit.”

“Oh, then that’s perfect then!” Sugawara clapped his hands together, “Where is it? I can get it for you.”

“That’s the thing…” scratching the side of your face, you sheepishly looked off to the side, “ I uh…sort of…forgot it. I was so focused on getting to the bus on time that I totally spaced on packing it. W-which leads me to…what I was actually going to ask.”

Looking downwards at your sprawled out body, you slowly peeled your shirt off your skin, and you didn’t miss the way Sugawara's eyes widened upon the exposure of your midsection. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen it before, nor did it bother him to see it. It was just your stomach.

But it was the state of it that shocked him. 

He was able to decipher the difference immediately, as he was aware of how it usually looked. But from how you had described what the effects of a flare up could do to you, it was clear that you hadn’t sugar coated it at all. 

There was an obvious bloat across the area of your exposed skin, traveling from your lower belly all the way up to your ribcage, rounding out the area much more than usual. It almost looked like there was a balloon residing under your skin, expanding and shrinking with every inhale and exhale of your body without fully going away. 

And then he noticed the sweatpants. You had worn them a number of times before and he had remembered them being rather loose on your frame. But now, they seemed to be squeezing you, supplying you probably little to no comfort.

“Oh Y/N…” he whispered.

“Yeah…it's not too pleasant.” you grimaced, “ Laying down it pretty much the best position for me to be in. Standing or sitting makes it worse.”

Sugawara frowned. He couldn’t imagine how much you had gone through with this. And it was all because of a mere sensitivity to food. 

For him, food was a necessity. He gained stamina and muscle from the things he ate and it only helped in the long run. The barbeque for him and everyone else that day had been a godsend. A gift for the body of an athlete. 

And all it had done for you was made you miserable.

According to you, IBS didn’t have a cure. It was a trial and error thing with minimal assists. But he was going to do whatever he could to help, no matter what it was. 

“So what is it that you need me to do?” he asked gently, “I’m all ears.”

Swallowing back a bit of self conscientiousness, you brought a hand up to your tummy and began tracing dainty shapes across your skin. Sugawara’s eyes followed your movements. 

“S-since I don’t have the massager, usually the hands are the next best option. Thing is…it’s not always effective when I do it. Y’know how a foot rub or anything that creates bodily comfort usually feels and works better when someone else does it? S-same case here so…”

Biting your lip, you gestured to Sugawara’s hand that was resting on the floor by your hip.

“D-do you think, “ you stuttered, your face blossoming into a shy crimson, “You could...r-rub my stomach for me?

It was silent for a moment, and you looked off to the side, thinking that maybe you had crossed the line. Afterall, it was an odd request, one that you didn’t deem as normal, especially in your condition. 

But then, you felt a shift beside you, and you turned your head back to see that Sugawara had laid himself down next to you, head propped up on a folded elbow while his other hand rested atop yours that had stopped above your belly button. 

His head was right next to your, nose almost in your hair, and you felt your heart skip a beat when he pressed a warm, gentle kiss to your temple. 

“Of course I can,” he murmured.

“A-are you sure…?”

“Absolutely.” he squeezed your hand softly, “ Though make sure you tell me if I’m hurting you okay? The last thing I want is for you to end up in more pain. So if you’re uncomfortable at any time, don’t feel afraid to speak up.”

At your boyfriend's kind words, you could feel your chest grow tight. You knew he was sweet, selfless, and he did things for other people even if it inconvenienced him (unless it was total bullshit which he never hesitated to call out). And you appreciated him for it. 

But for some reason, his decision to help you increased that appreciation more than ever to the point of where you could feel tears of gratitude pooling at the edge of your eyes. 

After another kiss, this time to your cheek, Sugawara shooed away your hand with careful fingers so that only his was left sitting atop your tummy. He started off by gently pressing his fingers into your abdomen, moving and checking to see which areas were more bloated in comparison to the others. Then, he switched to his palm, fingers folded slightly inwards, and pushed in a downwards direction, starting from right under your ribcage. 

There was an immediate sense of relief, for you could practically feel the sudden shift of pressure moving and breaking apart within your stomach and intestines. Which of course led to the part you were dreading. 

The sounds. 

With each press of Sugawara’s hand came the odd, but oh so familiar sounds that you had come to know. It was difficult to explain. Something along the lines of a bubble popping. But a thick one, like it had been coated in mud or wet cement. Gurgly, gaseous, wet pockets of something you couldn’t describe. 

And it was humiliating. 

But, for some reason…he didn’t stop. 

Through shameful, lidded eyes, you watched as Sugawara continued rubbing your tummy without a care in the world. His brow was creased and focused on a task so simple, making sure that he didn’t cause you any additional discomfort. And you could’ve sworn you saw his gaze soften painfully with each orchestrated syllable your gut decided to emit. 

“Suga…really…y-you don’t-”

A finger fell to your lips, shutting you up entirely, and Sugawara’s voice flowed like honey through your ears. 

“It’s okay…” he reassured, “Just try to relax. I’ve got you.”

For as long as you could remember, relaxing during a flare up was hard. 

You were always on edge, preparing for discomfort, preparing for pain, and when it came, it was a rodeo of what would work and what wouldn’t. Doing things yourself to try and make yourself feel better, putting in effort after effort, then becoming upset when nothing helped the way you wanted it to. 

But now…you had help. You had someone who was willing to take care of you. Someone who accepted the truth and jumped in without question. 

So finally, you stopped fighting it, and allowed yourself to lay back as Sugawara’s soft hands gently kneaded at your abdomen. 

He worked diligently, quietly, minus the few times he checked in to make sure he wasn’t hurting you, to which you replied ‘no’ to every, single time. 

As the minutes went by, you could feel a difference. The pressure pent up in your gut was slowly dissipating, growing to be more bearable with each gentle push of Sugawara’s hand. Of course, that didn’t go without more discomforting noises, but Sugawara never said a word. Instead, he gifted you with kisses and soft hushes in your whimpers of dread, signaling to you that there wasn’t any need to feel the way that you did. 

You weren’t aware of how much time had passed before Sugawara sat up, his hand leaving your tummy to wrap around your shoulder while the other grasped your hand.

“How do you feel?” he asked gently, helping you sit up, “Any better?’

“Oh, yes.” you breathed out, “Much, much, better…”

“Are you sure? You’re not hurting?”

You nodded, hand ghosting over your stomach. 

“I still ache a bit, but it'll go away by tomorrow. There’s only so much you can do, but it still feels a lot better than it did.”

Now sitting up fully, you looked down at Sugawara’s hand that was still encompassed around yours and gave it a squeeze. 

“Thank you, Suga,” you whispered, “I mean it…and not just for this but…for everything. For listening and understanding and…for accepting me. You don’t know much it means to me.”

Sugawara smiled, and you fell into the palm he placed against your cheek. 

‘It’s no problem at all.” he assured, “Besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t help you out? The last thing I want is to be considered a jerk.”

“I don’t think you could be a jerk even if you tried.”

“My team sometimes begs to differ.”

“Please, that’s just them whining because you’re typically always right.” 

“Well aren’t you sweet?”

“I try.”

Amidst your innocence banter, Sugawara snickered and you followed suit, the both of you breaking into a fit of giggles. 

It was a refreshing turn of events after the evening you had. A much needed break, and it honestly made you feel a little bit lighter.

And dare you even say…braver. 

“Speaking of the team,” you said, voice a little raspy from laughing, “I think it’s about time that I tell them, too. About my IBS I mean. It’s not fair that they’ve told me so much while I’ve been sitting here hiding away.”

Sugawara nodded, “Well that’s your call to make. But rest assured. I’m positive they’ll think of you the same way as they did before. And I hope you know that it's the same with me.”

With the hand that was once around your shoulders, Sugawara moved to cup your cheek once more, thumb dancing on your soft skin. 

“It doesn’t matter what ailment you have or what your differences are. If you have to eat a bit differently than others or take medications. It doesn’t matter so long as you take care of yourself and stay healthy in the way that benefits you. Because in the end, you’ll always be the Y/N we know and care about.”

You laughed breathily, hot tears of relief falling in rivulets down your cheeks. Unable to control yourself, you flung yourself into Sugawara’s chest, hugging him close to you, to which he returned by squeezing your waist. .   

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” you whispered. 

“I can recall a few times,” he teased,  “But most of the time its been during a match over a screaming crowd.”

“Hm…guess I’ll have to fix that then.’

Pulling back a bit, you looked up, transfixed at the sight of the dashing smile that had strung itself onto your boyfriend’s face.

An urge pushed you forwards and you soon found your lips on his, blissful, sweet, and an easy convey of those words that were pulsating within your heart. 

“I love you Sugawara…and thank you.”

“Your illness does not define you. Your strength and courage does.” - Unknown

[of-canes-and-manes]

005: Coming Back From Covid

It took nearly three years of the pandemic and two near misses, but I finally caught covid in mid October. I still haven’t figured out how exactly it happened, as I only leave the house for doctor appointments and rehearsals with a local community band. But happened it did, and I’ve been out for the last month while trying to recover.

To be completely honest, I didn’t even notice I had covid at first. I had helped my mom move hay bales from the trailer into the hay loft on a Saturday morning, and paid no mind to the soreness in my body for the two days after that, nor to the difficulty I was having getting around. After all, that had been the first time I had helped with hay in some five odd years, as well as the most physical activity I had attempted since becoming physically disabled. It was entirely within the realm of normal symptoms for me to be physically exhausted, and I even considered helping with hay a success because I wasn’t anywhere near the amount of fatigue I used to experience from significantly less intense activities.

But the following Tuesday, I woke up at three in the morning drenched in sweat. I had spent the whole night tossing and turning, which isn’t unusual on its own, but never before had I woken up to soaked pajamas and bedsheets. As I stripped my bed and changed my sheets, it finally occurred to me that my symptoms were not just my usual post-exertional malaise from helping with hay; as it turns out, night sweats are a symptom of covid, and I tested positive that evening.

And so, that was the first day of what became three weeks of quarantining.

Truthfully, I enjoyed my quarantine, especially that first week before I began feeling symptoms above and beyond my usual chronic fatigue. Despite my best efforts, I had been rapidly approaching burnout territory via trying to do too much, even after I had already pared down my life to better suit my disabilities in August. I was just still stuffing too many activities into every day, vying for a sense of satisfaction I hadn’t felt in weeks, and rather than feeling fulfilled, all I got was misery.

So when I ended up hyperfixating on a new fandom right at the beginning of my quarantine, I finally allowed myself to stop and rest. I spent every waking moment of those first nine days reading fanfiction, and I made it through a million words by the time I started feeling sick. Even once I began feeling symptoms, I continued reading, and I ended up having not only the time of my life, but the break I so desperately needed.

The feeling sick came about a week after I tested positive, and once it did, it really hit me. I woke up sore all over, well above and beyond my usual morning aches and pains, and though I had been congested for a week by that point, finally my nose began to run. As I started going through a box of tissues every other day, my breathing got worse, until I felt like I had been swimming underwater. I stopped being able to brush the horses, and then I wasn’t able to keep up with basic self care, never mind all the housework I try to do.

A week and a half after I first tested positive, I had to go to the ER. It was a Thursday, I was still testing positive, and I felt worse and worse with each passing day. I had tried to get a hold of my primary care doctor, but never heard back. Luckily, the ER sent me home a few hours later with a steroid to help my lungs, but I still received instructions to return if I continued to worsen.

The steroid worked. After a week of that, I finally started feeling better, though the congestion stayed the same despite my best efforts. I was able to schedule a telehealth appointment with my primary care doctor a week after my ER visit, and was sent an antibiotic in the event that I had managed to contract a sinus infection. With the antibiotic in my system, the congestion began to improve, then returned to normal. I was finally, blessedly feeling almost entirely normal again.

It’s now been over a month since I first tested positive; I’m once again negative and no longer actively sick. My breathing is normal and all things considered, I’m back to my pre-covid health. But I’m feeling a fatigue that isn’t anything like the usual chronic fatigue I’ve experienced since 2016, and this fatigue has slowed me down something fierce. I still haven’t been able to get back to brushing the horses regularly, I haven’t ridden in weeks, and I have yet to figure out how I’ll prepare my garden for winter.

I’m hoping that with enough time and rest, I’ll regain the stamina I had pre-covid. In the meantime, I’ve been exploring hobbies and interests that I hadn’t before had the opportunity to, and discovering more of myself along the way. I thought that if my capacity for activity was reduced any more than it had been before covid, I’d lose everything I ever held dear. It is with great pleasure that I can say that that didn’t happen, and I’ve even found that I have no desire to return to the hectic life I had prior to catching covid.

That said, I’m very much so looking forward to the day I can get back on Tim and resume riding! It will come, hopefully sooner rather than later, but whenever it does, I will be ready for it.

May your day be filled with peace and joy

[talkethtothehandeth]

Here’s a reminder that if you have chronic illness(es) and your teeth aren’t “perfect” because of your symptoms— if they’re stained or cracked or have cavities you can’t quite treat yet, if they’re chipped, eroded or crooked, if your mouth doesn’t get healthy no matter what you do because you can’t control getting sick, if your disabilities get in the way of taking care of your own teeth, if your teeth have fractured from clenching too hard because your body is always under severe stress, or if your medications hurt your mouth, you are not gross and you absolutely deserve compassion rather than judgement.

I have to go to the dentist very soon because my body doesn’t know I’m in pain until it’s too late, and it’s not good. I have (incompletely) cracked two teeth because my body is constantly stressed so I bite down on my teeth like I’m gnawing on a billionaire’s ankles; I have some form of decay on my back molars because of how often I’ve thrown up. This is uncontrollable, no matter how much I take care of my mouth.

People say tooth aches are their worst pain ever, and that’s because they haven’t experienced nerve pain before. I have, and do, experience it often. But never in my mouth. I haven’t had a cavity since I was 12, I’m 23 and these are not from a lack of dental care. My enamel weakened from all the acid in my mouth, and antacids cause enamel erosion, gum recession and of course cavities as a result. Celiac disease affects the mouth too, along with my multiple medications that I can’t stop taking. My mouth is completely crowded on my bottom jaw because of my EDS, my wisdom teeth grew in sideways, even. I've managed my teeth for a very long time on my own, but now I need extra help and that's okay.

Teeth are a big deal, I know. They’re a huge source of insecurity, and it’s more than reasonable to be upset if their health changes. I get it— I had my good cry (okay multiple cries) about it, but I would rather have a healthy mouth than all of my teeth if it comes to an extraction. It isn’t your fault. The state of your teeth is not indicative of your morality and self worth. Even if you get the lecture from the hygienist, even if they judge you (which they should never do, but unfortunately they do) even if you are ashamed of your teeth and your smile you deserve compassion and care and you deserve to be treated kindly when seeking out dental care.

Bring something to make you comfortable. I’m bringing a squishmallow for my back and my JBL noise canceling headphones. I’m gonna be playing movie soundtracks while they’re digging in my mouth and I’m going to get the care I need and deserve. If you can, I encourage you to go see a dentist. Oral health is tied to your heart and to your brain. A mouth infection can be fatal if left untreated.

I had no idea that I had a cavity at all, and now I have to see if it’s salvageable or not! I feel shame, even though I did what I could, because I’ve been judged in the past even after disclosing my medical condition. It made me not want to go back, but I have to now and I have accepted that. It’s scary, I will be very nervous in the chair especially because my body responds differently to pain medication than others.

But I can do this, and so can you. You are not wrong, your smile is not gross, you are not dirty. So many people, so many young people have teeth problems too because of their illnesses. Whether you have all your teeth, only some, or none at all, your smile is so so beautiful and doesn’t need to be hidden. It’s a very hard topic to talk about, but I feel like if it’s talked about more maybe people will have less shame.

[myhairfeelsnice]

hiii i saw ur post about getting over food poisoning and i just wanted to tell you that i went through a similar experience to what you described and it lasted for months. it was a really isolating and demoralizing experience and it made it hard to do my job and i'm so sorry you're going through that. i hope this advice doesn't sound trite but what the biggest things that helped me was taking a good quality probiotic (i used seed but it's super expensive so once i got better i switched to a cheaper brand) and doing yoga. i also in general tried to pay attention to my bodily sensations (which was hard since i felt so disoriented all the time). i tried to pay attention to what foods made me feel sick, what activities tired me out the most, even the time i woke up and how that affected me. i didn't fully get better until like 6 months later but that's also bc of other health stuff, but after 2 months i did start to feel a lot more 'normal.' i'm not sure if you've already tried these things, and if you have then i'm sorry i can't give more helpful advice. what you're going through is very difficult and it's hard to feel like you're not in control of your body. i hope you start to feel better soon <3

Thank you sweetheart ! It is very comforting to receive this. I’ve had chronic stomach problems for around 5 years now so I assume that that combined with a months worth of antibiotics simply reduced my microbiome and immune system to zilch, leaving me super vulnerable to food poisoning. I’ve taken probiotics for a while now and do yoga every day. I think the most I can do is to manage symptoms but I am still bothering my doctors about this all ! I haven’t much hope but at least my boyfriend does, he’s convinced that I will recover so I’ll just ride along on his hope

[disabilityhealth]

This is a bit weird but I just… kinda want to get something out of my brain to someone who may have some kind of understanding. Sorry if I’m a bother. The short of it is that recently I started to suspect I might have a chronic condition, because some of the things I’ve been experiencing were alarmingly specific to this and in one case, something I didn’t even know wasn’t a normal thing that happens to everyone. I thought about it for a few weeks and then made a doctor’s appointment with my regular doctor. That doctor referred me to a specialist, who told me to get a series of tests and specifically mentioned testing for something that I happened to see later could sometimes cause similar symptoms or be mistaken for what I kinda suspected (which I haven’t brought up to anyone because I’m afraid of seemingly like a crazy hypochondriac or something) I might have. I got the tests, and at once place the doctor also said they wanted me to come back for even more tests so they could give me a referral to yet another kind of specialist, and mentioned that they would have told me to get this other test except I’d already had it done via the first specialists orders, etc. It’s been a whole roller coaster of emotions. But anyway last week I went back to the first specialist for the test results, which were zilch. Nada. All looks good and normal, go home. I feel stupid. The doctor didn’t even let me see the scans and stuff, I guess I had been kind of hoping it would feel more real if I saw there was nothing weird. I know I’m no doctor and I can’t diagnose myself and I’ve got no medical training to even know what I’m looking at but. Yeah. It’s been around two months, I think, since I first started to suspect when I randomly saw a symptom list, and my brain had been all over the place. I do have anxiety so I’ve been wondering like, is this all in my head, is it psychosomatic, am I wasting time and money over some kind of attention seeking delusion? My symptoms definitely increased in severity after I started considering it and I’ve been very… I don’t even know over that. Because if things are worse then it’s obviously all like stress caused, right? At least according to my brain. And I’ve kinda flip flopped between ‘there’s no way’ and ‘it has to be’ while feeling both at the same time. When I was doing a bit of research and I saw one of the things the doctor had mentioned testing for as something that could be mistaken for what I was considering, I had a massive panic attack at the thought. When I was at one of the specialists’ offices and they said something along the lines of ‘so you’re experiencing this?’ and I said ‘no, this’ I totally calmed down for the first time since this whole thing started and was absolutely sure that this was all just a dumb waste of time and feeling at peace, only to be hit with the ‘okay so I want you to come back for these tests, you’ve already had those done so you don’t need me to make a referral, and then I want to send you to this other specialist’ while I was feeling like I was actually that one ‘what’ reaction image. And I had been thinking like, if I have this, I don’t want anyone to know. It’s not like it’s a life threatening thing and like I don’t want anyone to worry over me or treat me weirdly or anything… and then well the doctor said everything looks perfect. And before that I thought that was what I wanted. That was the absolute best case scenario in my head, second best being ‘yeah you’ve got this’ and worst being ‘actually MORE TESTS.’ And yet I nearly cried in the doctor’s office and then again nearly had a crying breakdown in the car… because I was told I didn’t have this thing I don’t want to have? I feel like some crazy attention seeking faker making up things in my head. Maybe I’m exaggerating what I feel. Maybe, even though the symptoms have been just as bad at times in the past, years ago even, before I’d heard of this thing, the fact that they feel worse right now is only in my head. Cont~

continuation~ Last night I was curled up in so much pain I felt like something inside me had combusted and I was afraid I was dying even though I’d gone to the hospital for this exact thing two years ago and it was nothing and I also hurt too much to move anyway. I got ten hours of sleep but it took me two hours to get out of bed and I missed a class because despite knowing I needed to get up and go I was too tired to even care about it. I say that and even though it’s true I feel like I’m lying or exaggerating for attention. For years doctors have been telling me I’m young and the healthiest I’ll ever be and there’s nothing wrong with me. The doctor told me all the tests look normal and then told me to go see a psychiatrist. I still have the appointment for the other tests the one specialist wanted me to have next week, at which point I’ll get a referral scheduled for the next specialist that doctor wanted me to see. The internet said that most people take 15-20 years to get diagnosed. The internet said less than 5% of people who have this show symptoms but nothing shows up on the scans. Who am I to be so sure I have this? Why should I believe the internet over a medical doctor? I’ve only felt worse in the days since that appointment last week. Isn’t that proof it’s all psychological? I guess… somewhere in me, even as I really desperately didn’t bad don’t want to have anything wrong with me, I got attached to the idea that maybe there was a reason. That maybe it’s not just that I’m getting dumber. That there’s a reason for all these inarticulate things I’ve thought for literal years but never had the reason or words or awareness to truly express. I say ‘nobody is as clumsy as I am!’ and people tell me off for being self-deprecation but what I never had the consciousness I’m not sure but whatever to realize before now, I felt it but I didn’t know the words, was that I mean ‘I’m not as clumsy as I am.’ Or I wasn’t. I have scars on my arms from when my hands just stopped holding things without my consent. I walk into door frames and walks and furniture because it feels like my legs just quit listening sometimes. I used to be able to stand on one foot for five minutes at a time and never wobble the slightest bit and only have to stop because my leg would get tired. Now I cling to the handrail or the wall every time I even go down one step and I regularly lean on the wall so I don’t eat floor trying to change my clothes in the morning or at night. I have adhd, I’ve always been forgetful, but I don’t think I ever used to legitimately not be able to tell the difference between today and yesterday. I never used to forget to eat for an entire day because I didn’t remember humans have to eat. I never used to accidentally skip breakfast or lunch or dinner because I think I have eaten but that was yesterday. I forget what I did five minutes ago or my memories feel so distant I have to think to figure out if I dreamed that I just washed my hands or something. I feel like I have the memory of a goldfish and I know I didn’t always. I know it didn’t used to be that sometimes I start and stare and stare at words and I can make them make sense individually but not all together, and then I come back to the same thing the next day and I can read it with no issue. And all this time I was thinking ‘what do I do if I have this.’ and I didn’t know, and the prospect was terrifying. But I never once thought ‘what do I do if I don’t.’ And turns out, that’s terrifying too. There’s no good answer and I just want to be normal and fine and I feel like a self obsessed hypochondriac idiot. I’m sorry for dumping all that on you.

I am honestly very glad you sent this to me, so do not be sorry. It sounds like you are truly fighting a battle and you needed to get this all out there.

My advice would be to bring up the condition you think you have with your doctors. Pose it as a question, like: "Is it possible that I have X?" Even if they rule that illness out, at least you will know one way or the other that all of the possibilities are being explored.

It does sound like your doctors are taking your symptoms seriously because they are referring you to so many specialists. That is a good sign. Also, according to HIPAA you are entitled to get copies of your medical tests upon request so you can ask to see your scans and blood work results. I think that could give you a little peace of mind, at least.

Also, I think seeing a psychiatrist is a good idea. I'm not saying that I think your symptoms are psychosomatic or that it's all in your head. However, even if it is a mental illness, that doesn't mean your pain isn't real. It doesn't mean you aren't struggling. It would just mean that the cause is psychological -- and if that is the case then your experience is equally valid.

Chronic illnesses and mental illnesses have a lot of overlap. You deserve to know what's going on, one way or the other.

At the very least, it sounds to me like you may have anxiety (understandably) and a psychiatrist would help you to manage that so you can at least have a little peace in your life while you're trying to figure out what else is going on.

I genuinely hope that you can get to the bottom of this. You deserve to feel better in your own skin and to understand what is happening to you. I will be thinking of you, anon.

[jodilin65]

I would have gotten my entry posted earlier if I wasn’t fighting the usual battle of fatigue. Again, better than anxiety, but anything that affects your daily activities or peace of mind is never good.

Tom was sent home from the plasma place after they said his arms were too bruised. He feels like that’s their fault for pressuring him to put heat on his arms when he’s noticed that this actually makes it take longer for the bruises to fade. He’s going to look and see how far another plasma company is.

Yesterday was painting day at the clubhouse and we painted manatees. Mine came out okay. Could have been better, but it wasn’t that bad.

I have a funny story about painting class but first, I’m so glad I had decent energy yesterday! I walked down in the warm sunshine and back and still felt good. The day before was horrible. I was just so tired to the point that it was really getting me down. I still think the main culprit is my thyroid, so I hope going back on multivitamins will eventually make a difference. There’s vitamin D in them and while it’s not as much as a typical adult dose there’s a bit of concern that it may go the opposite way and make my thyroid work a little too hard and make me anxious but I can skip the vitamins on some days if I have to.

It’s just frustrating because like I said, while I think my thyroid is the main culprit, I don’t know for sure. If not, then I don’t know if it’s something in the way I sleep or if I really do have chronic fatigue and this is just the way it’s gonna be for half of the time or more.

Tom says he doesn’t think I’ll have it for the rest of my life because my problems change.

Yeah, after nearly a decade, maybe.

I had burning down there yesterday that made me begin to doubt the soap. So because I have $25 of store credit every 3 months, I ordered a yeast infection kit. Could take a week to get to me, and I don’t know if I’ll have to fight with the applicators, but at least it’s free. For now, I took some leftover Monistat cream, put the biggest glob I could fit on my fingertip, and shoved it up there last night before bed (excuse my explicit description here, lol). I haven’t had any burning so far today, which now leads me to think that it was a yeast infection. I started to highly suspect this at the end of my day yesterday just by the symptoms and the fact that it had been several days since I used that harsh soap.

I don’t know why (to replace primary care visits?) but my insurance company will pay me $100 for someone to do a home check where they come to the house. They take your blood pressure and go over your meds, make sure you’re safe, etc. So I said sure, why not? So we’re gonna schedule that sometime soon. We have eye exams scheduled for the 4th.

Tom walked with me down to the clubhouse because he wanted to get more steps. I’ll admit that I’m glad he didn’t come in with me because it’s nice to have some things we do on our own like how he does the plasma thing on his own. We just don’t need to do every single thing together.

The redneck was actually kind of funny yesterday. He was coming up the street on his golf cart with Happy and as soon as he saw me he goes, “Oh no!” and puts a hand over Happy’s mouth, lol.

A surprising number of people turned out to paint and a few didn’t even show up. I ended up sitting next to a woman named Sandy and she was pretty nice. She was quiet and soft-spoken.

Behind me sat Debi, a rude Trump whore I never liked. She was rude to me in the group a couple of years ago as people who disagree with you often are instead of politely making their own point and leaving it at that. You know, the my-way-is-correct-and-your-way-is-all-wrong kind of thing.

Before class got going, Debi stood up to lower the speed of the fan between our two tables because it was causing a disco ball effect with flashing shadows as the blades swung under the recessed lighting. She looked at me and smiled and said I had it too. It was noticeable on our canvases but Sandy and I didn’t mind. I just wanted some air flow because it was hot in there.

So then Gail, who was leading the class had us all introduce ourselves. This was something I didn’t want to do because I was there to paint and not socialize. Also, because of my unique name, I knew Debi would know who I was. With a temper like mine, if she pissed me off bad enough, there’s no saying what I might have done.

So now the few people in the group who might not like me because I don’t always agree with them knew who I was but no one gave me any shit.

When Debi walked by me later on, she didn’t even glance my way. I had to fight the urge to stick my foot out in front of me just because I hate the little bitch. At the end of the class, when we were having our pictures taken with our paintings and I was talking to someone else, I thought I saw her looking my way with a contemptuous look on her face, not that it matters, of course. It was actually kind of funny.

The only thing I didn’t like about the class was that it wasn’t quite as structured as I thought it would be with Gail guiding us step by step but at least she was there to answer questions. It was nice to get out for the two or so hours I was out of the house.

And to leave my paper journal in the bathroom, lol. I always thought it would be interesting to see if it was mentioned in the group, but there’s been no mention of that or any pictures posted from the class yet.