misschf-aisa

[misschf-aisa]

Paradigm: a Staubrey story. Chapter 3

After her meeting with Beca and Chloe, Aubrey heads to the diner to thank Stacie.

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as always, thank you to my partner in crime and in life, @misschf-aisa without whom all of this is a lot less fun.

[misschf-aisa]

pride month!!!

[misschf-aisa]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62999929

You Know Where To Find Me

eolhceB143

Words: 4024. Chpt: 1/1

Summary:

Beca has been in LA for a short time. Chloe, alone in their NYC flat. Both are miserable without each other. Texting one night, the brunette makes a remark that inadvertently sets Chloe off.

Chloe emerges from the bathroom, relieved after again satisfying herself to images of Beca.

The redhead, having cleaned herself and slipped into her night shorts, dramatically flops onto the bed she once shared with her forever love.

She rolls her eyes after seeing the numerous Instagram and Twitter notifications on her iPhone desktop.

The redhead killed time scanning more social media, beginning with Bella’s chats and posts.

Her eyes drift to the empty side of the bed. Beca had only been gone for a few months. A few months on the physical calendar, that is. Felt more like a few lifetimes in Chloe’s universe.

[misschf-aisa]

❤️❤️❤️

Wilson, AZ chapter 2

Emily takes Aubrey to the one restaurant in town that serves wine. Other than the saloon. Nah, the only place…. https://archiveofourown.org/works/62579422/chapters/160398910

[misschf-aisa]

damn socks

Stacie struggles with being pregnant on New Year’s Eve. Can Emily tease her out of it? https://archiveofourown.org/works/61854229

Happy new year, awesome nerds. especially my favorite sunshine and angel, @misschf-aisa

Love you.

[misschf-aisa]

Nobody I’d rather do all these things with and then wish I could have a few more ❤️

I read somewhere that "When you choose a life partner you're choosing your eating companion for about 20,000 meals, your travel companion for about 70 vacations, your retirement friend, career therapist, & someone whose day you'll hear about 18,000 times" and I really can't stress this enough.

[misschf-aisa]

Here ya go, hon.

name a show that fumbled so hard by not making a ship canon

[misschf-aisa]

Imma let you finish, but she said register to vote. And y’all know she’s a childless cat lady, so you know who to vote for.

Taylor Swift won 7 awards at the VMAs tonight!

Video of the Year

Artist of the Year

Best Collaboration

Best Direction

Best Pop

Song of Summer

Best Editing

(September 11, 2024)

[misschf-aisa]

Damn it. I just lived through some sketchy service from Lowe’s. But I’ll deal with it and buy from them again.

😲😲😲😲

[misschf-aisa]

Ya know, every time I see Tulsa in something from the wider world it’s always this batshit crazy. I promise there are normal people here.

“Communism, Hypnotism and The Beatles” (1965).

[misschf-aisa]

The last chapter.

The dog woke me up from a sound sleep and my heart needs to slow down so I can find that slumber again. It feels like a good time to finish my little journal to myself that I started here on my favorite site where posts without tags won’t bother very many people.

Dad went into the hospital again. His system was in septic shock times two - he had a urinary infection and a blockage in his colon that caused a blood infection. He also had multiple blood clots in his legs. His blood pressure was super low. He was in constant afib/tachycardia. When he first went into the hospital with all of that he was still chatty and making jokes.

Of course the trouble was he needed blood thinners for the clots. He needed adrenaline to keep his blood pressure up. The adrenaline exacerbated the racing heart. Everything that fixed one thing unfixed another. It was four days of juggling and balancing.

On the fifth day a small studious little doctor came in to speak with me. I hadn’t planned to be there just then, but my girl had suggested I go visit Dad before I ran my errands instead of after. So I was there when the doc came by. He had the thickest Indian accent I’ve heard in a long time. I work as a freelance transcriptionist and I can tell you I’ve heard people say common words in ways that they are absolutely unrecognizable. So I took off my worried daughter brain and put on my transcription brain and listened as he explained the blockage was malignant. And aggressive. He kept watching me, like he was waiting for me to understand.

I’ll admit, it took me a minute to realize he was telling me Dad had cancer again, and it was going to kill him. Even with the most aggressive treatment he’d maybe last three months. I saw the doc relax a little when he realized I understood. He was so kind as he reminded me how Dad was barely hanging on right now and maybe aggressive cancer treatment wouldn’t be advisable. Clearly he wasn’t positive I got it, so I mentioned that it would be selfish to ask Dad to suffer longer just for me to keep him a few more weeks.

The doc tilted his head and asked me what I do for a living. I didn’t expect the question, so I explained what most of the world understands about my employment. I retired from teaching history at the local community college during COVID. He nodded and smiled a little and said he’d figured it was a college job. It’s nice to know when I’m faced with super important life decisions my inner academic steps up and takes care of business.

So it was done. Dad’s doctor who had been treating him since the ER came down to talk to me and clarify, meanwhile I’d spoken with all the family about their opinions. Yes. Make him comfortable. Take the tube out of his nose, stop the adrenaline drip, give him morphine and let him fall asleep. She asked me if I understood he’d probably not last more than a few hours without all of the interventions. I did. It had been the central fact I’d talked with my spouse, my sister, and my kids about.

My oldest son got there before they changed anything. He’d called his dad, my ex-husband, and something in that conversation had inspired my ex to come join us in Dad’s room. It was a little awkward for a few minutes, but then the nurses came and started taking care of Dad.

I watched the monitor. His blood pressure began to drop, then it went below the point the nurse had told me was the threshold for his organs to function properly. His heart was still going at over 100.

Dying is hard to watch. His breathing became labored, and they kept upping the morphine but it never was enough to put him totally out of it. At one point he stopped breathing long enough we thought it was over, then he took a big old loud breath and my ex almost fell out of his chair and the nurse even jumped. We laughed so hard, a good laugh, recognizing that Dad snuck one more joke in and it was a good one.

My sister who lives a few states away called me. I hadn’t expected it. I had just let my son take Dad’s hand and stepped back a little, and it was just as Dad’s heart rate finally started to fall. All I could think to do was give my sister a running report as the heart slowed down. 80, 78, 75, 65, 59, 45, 30, 15, 0. I worried that it seemed crass to keep reporting the numbers like it was some sporting event or election tally, but I wanted her to know exactly when it was done.

So it’s over. The car that should have taken him over an icy cliff last February is in my driveway now. He left a house full of stuff and an inheritance I hadn’t expected, and I’m in business mode now as the executor of his estate. His ashes are right next to Mom’s ashes in my China cabinet until the family gets organized.

That all happened almost a month ago. There’s something about writing it down here and hitting the send button that brings me some relief. Closure, maybe? I don’t know. But now we forge ahead, all the parents have gone and holy shit we’re the ones in charge now. Good luck, y’all. And if you read all of this, thank you.

[misschf-aisa]

Hey Tumblr. Here for another journal entry into the void.

Dad is in the hospital. He’s pretty darn sick. He won’t be driving his car into any exciting remote places any time soon. In fact the ICU nurses have a tendency to forget themselves and mention the current heart failure when they’re going through the list of things they’re juggling with right now.

Here’s the good news. He and I are totally good. He knows I love him, I know he loves me, we’ve been through some wars in the past year and we are totally soldiers in arms.

He’s uncomfortable though. There are a lot of things going wrong with him right now. If the meds work he could be totally fine. If they don’t, he could continue to struggle until he can’t fight it anymore. Tonight it’s the same as this morning, tomorrow we’ll see if it’s different.

I called the ICU tonight and she said there’s nothing new. So I can sleep. She promised to call if anything changes.

[misschf-aisa]

@l82theparty this might explain some things

Just a little PSA for all our mental health (and chronic pain*) spoonies out there! A lot of doctors neglect to mention this little side effect, which means a lot of us are suffering extra from the heat without knowing why.

*Many psych meds are used to treat chronic pain as well, if you didn’t know!

[misschf-aisa]

people want doing the right thing to be like pulling the correct lever at the correct time but actually usually doing the right thing is more like holding a moderate weight at arm's length continuously for seventeen years

[misschf-aisa]

Oh come on. Now I have to ship them. And it isn’t even hard to do.

Christina Hendricks, Elisabeth Moss.