#Care Management Clinical Tools

[momlovesyoubest]

Calls From Aging Dysfunctional Families-Handling the Entitled Type

Calls From Aging Dysfunctional Families-Types of aging dysfunctional families who can call you over the summer vacation Narcissistic-Entitled Families Calls from aging dysfunctional families’ adult children or Narcissistic Entited Families’ adult kids will happen during the summer. These VIP Clinet’s adult children call you desperately for private care over the summer visit. Their problems…

[hormonesclinics]

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[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Beth Bourne

Published: Feb 27, 2024

Kaiser gender specialists were eager to approve hormones and surgeries, which would all be covered by insurance as “medically necessary.”

On September 6, 2022, I received mail from my Kaiser Permanente Davis Ob-Gyn reminding me of a routine cervical screening. The language of the reminder stood out to me: “Recommended for people with a cervix ages 21 to 65.” When I asked my Ob-Gyn about this strange wording, she told me the wording was chosen to be “inclusive” of their “transgender” and “gender fluid” patients.

Based on this response, several thoughts occurred to me. Could I expose the medical scandal of “gender-affirming care” by saying and doing everything my daughter and other trans-identifying kids are taught to do? Would there be the type of medical safeguarding and differential diagnosis we would expect in other fields of medicine, or would I simply be allowed to self-diagnose and be offered the tools (i.e. hormones and surgeries) to choose my own gender adventure and become my true authentic self?

If I could demonstrate that anyone suffering from delusions of their sex, self-hatred, or identity issues could qualify for and easily obtain body-altering hormones and surgeries, all covered by insurance as “medically necessary” and potentially “life-saving” care, then maybe people would finally wake up. I certainly had.

I was prepared for failure. I wasn’t prepared for how easy success would be.

* * *

I am a 53-year-old mom from Davis, CA. My daughter began identifying as a transgender boy (social transition) and using he/him pronouns at school during 8th grade. Like several of her peers who also identified as trans at her school, my daughter was a gifted student and intellectually mature but socially immature. This shift coincided with her school’s sudden commitment to, and celebration of, a now widespread set of radical beliefs about the biology of sex and gender identity.

She “came out” as trans to her father (my ex-husband) and me through a standard coming-out letter, expressing her wish to start puberty blockers. She said she knew they were safe, citing information she had read from Planned Parenthood and the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH). To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was also confused because this announcement was sudden and unexpected. While others quickly accepted and affirmed my daughter’s new identity, I was apprehensive and felt the need to learn more about what was going on.

Events began escalating quickly.

During a routine doctor’s visit scheduled for dizziness my daughter said that she was experiencing, the Kaiser pediatrician overheard her father using “he/him” pronouns for our daughter. The pediatrician seemed thrilled, quickly asking my daughter about her “preferred pronouns” and updating her medical records to denote that my daughter was now, in fact, my son. The pediatrician then recommended we consult the Kaiser Permanente Oakland Proud pediatric gender clinic, where she could get further information and (gender affirming) “treatment.” Now I was the one feeling dizzy.

As I began educating myself on this issue, I discovered that this phenomenon—minors, most often teen girls, suddenly adopting trans identities—was becoming increasingly widespread. It even had a name: rapid onset gender dysphoria, or ROGD. Thankfully, after learning about the potential side-effects of blockers and hormones, my ex-husband and I managed to agree not to consent to any medical interventions for our daughter until she turned 18 and would then be able to make such decisions as an adult.

Over the past five years, my daughter’s identity has slowly evolved in ways that I see as positive. Our bond, however, has become strained, particularly since I began publicly voicing my concerns about what many term as “gender ideology.” Following my daughter’s 17th birthday family celebration, she sent me an email that evening stating she would be cutting off contact with me.

While this estrangement brought me sorrow, with my daughter living full-time with her father, it also gave me the space to be an advocate/activist in pushing back on gender identity ideology in the schools and the medical industry.

I decided to go undercover as a nonbinary patient to show my daughter what danger she might be putting herself in—by people who purport to have her health as their interest, but whose main interest is in medically “affirming” (i.e., transitioning) whoever walks through their door. I am at heart a mother protecting her child.

* * *

My daughter’s sudden decision to become a boy was heavily on my mind in early September of 2022, when mail from my Kaiser Permanente Davis Ob-Gyn reminded me of a routine cervical screening with “Recommended for people with a cervix ages 21 to 65.” I was told that the wording was chosen to be “inclusive” of transgender and “gender fluid” patients.

Throughout the whole 231-day process of my feigned gender transition, the Kaiser gender specialists were eager to serve me and give me what I wanted, which would all be covered by insurance as “medically necessary.” My emails were returned quickly, my appointments scheduled efficiently, and I never fell through the cracks. I was helped along every step of the way.

Despite gender activists and clinicians constantly claiming that obtaining hormones and surgeries is a long and complex process with plenty of safety checks in place, I was in full control at every checkpoint. I was able to self-diagnose, determine how strong a dose of testosterone I received and which surgeries I wanted to pursue, no matter how extreme and no matter how many glaring red flags I purposefully dropped. The medical workers I met repeatedly reminded me that they were not there to act as “gatekeepers.”

I was able to instantly change my medical records to reflect my new gender identity and pronouns. Despite never being diagnosed with gender dysphoria, I was able to obtain a prescription for testosterone and approval for a “gender-affirming” double mastectomy from my doctor. It took only three more months (90 days) to be approved for surgery to remove my uterus and have a fake penis constructed from the skin of my thigh or forearm. Therapy was never recommended.

Critics might dismiss my story as insignificant on the grounds that I am a 53-year-old woman with ample life experience who should be free to alter her body. However, this argument for adult bodily autonomy is a standard we apply to purely cosmetic procedures like breast implants, liposuction, and facelifts, not “medically necessary” and “lifesaving” treatments covered by health insurance. Or interventions that compromise health and introduce illness into an otherwise healthy body. And especially not for children.

My story, which I outline in much more detail below, should convince any half-rational person that gender medicine is not operating like any other field of medicine. Based on a radical concept of “gender identity,” this medical anomaly preys upon the body-image insecurities common among pubescent minors to bill health insurance companies for permanent cosmetic procedures that often leave their patients with permanently altered bodies, damaged endocrine systems, sexual dysfunction, and infertility.

* * *

Detailed Timeline of Events

On October 6, 2022, I responded to my Ob-Gyn’s email to tell her that, after some thought, I’d decided that maybe the label “cis woman” didn’t truly reflect who I was. After all, I did have some tomboyish tendencies. I told her I would like my records to be changed to reflect my newly realized “nonbinary” identity, and that my new pronouns were they/them. I also voiced my desire to be put in touch with an endocrinologist to discuss starting testosterone treatment.

Fifteen minutes later I received an email from another Kaiser doctor informing me that my medical records had been changed, and that once my primary doctor returned to the office, I’d be able to speak with her about hormone therapy.

I responded the following day (October 7, 2022), thanking her for changing my records, and asking if she could connect me with someone who could help me make an appointment for “top surgery” (i.e., a cosmetic double mastectomy) because my chest binder was rather “uncomfortable after long days and playing tennis.”

She told me to contact my primary care MD to “get things rolling,” and that there were likely to be “preliminary evaluations.”

Six days after contacting my primary care MD for a referral, I received an email from one of Kaiser’s gender specialists asking me to schedule a phone appointment so she could better understand my goals for surgery, so that I could get “connected to care.” This call to review my “gender affirming treatment options and services” would take 15-20 minutes, after which I would be “booked for intake,” allowing me to proceed with medical transition.

This wasn’t an evaluation of whether surgical transition was appropriate, it was simply a meeting for me to tell them what I wanted so that they could provide it.

On October 18, I had my one and only in-person appointment in preparation for top surgery. I met in Davis with my primary care physician, Dr. Hong-wen Xue. The assessment was a 10-minute routine physical exam that included blood tests. Everything came back normal. Notably, there was not a single question about why I wanted top surgery or cross-sex hormones. Nor was there any discussion of the risks involved with these medical treatments.

The following week, on October 24, I had a phone appointment with Rachaell Wood, MFT, a gender specialist with Kaiser Sacramento. The call lasted 15 minutes and consisted of standard questions about potential drug use, domestic violence, guns in the house, and whether I experienced any suicidal thoughts. There were no questions from the gender specialist about my reasons for requesting a mastectomy or cross-sex hormones, or why I suddenly, at 52, decided I was “nonbinary.”

After the call, Kaiser emailed me instructions about how to prepare for my pre-surgery intake video appointment to evaluate my mental health, scheduled to take place on November 15. The email stated that prior to my appointment, I should research hormone risks on the WPATH website, and to “research bilateral mastectomy and chest reconstruction surgery risks and recovery” on Kaiser’s website.

I decided to request a “gender-affirming” double mastectomy and phalloplasty. Kaiser sent me a sample timeline for gender transition surgery preparation (see below) that you can use as a reference for the process. I also asked for a prescription for cross-sex hormones (testosterone) as needed and recommended by Kaiser.

[ Source: Kaiser Permanente, Top Surgery - EXPLORING YOUR SURGICAL OPTIONS ]

Pre-Surgery Mental Health Video Appointment, Part I

This “Mental Health Visit” assessment was conducted over Zoom. The Kaiser gender specialist started with questions addressing my marital status, race, gender identity, and other demographics. She asked whether I was “thinking of any other surgeries, treatments in the future.” The list she read included “gender-affirming” hysterectomies, bottom surgeries such as metoidioplasty and phalloplasty, vocal coaching, support groups, and body contouring. “Anything else you might be interested in doing?” she asked. I said that I’d perhaps be interested in body contouring. I was also assured that all the procedures would be covered by insurance because they were considered “medically necessary.”

I dropped in several red flags regarding my mental health to see the reaction, but all were ignored. For instance, I revealed that I had PTSD. When the therapist asked me about whether I had experienced any “childhood trauma,” I explained that I grew up in Mexico City and had been groped several times and had also witnessed men masturbating in public and had been grabbed by men in subways and buses. “I was a young girl, so [I had] lots of experiences of sexual harassments, sexual assault, just the kind of stuff that happens when you are a girl growing up in a big city.” “So, you know,” I finished, “just the general feeling that you are unsafe, you know, in a female body.”

The therapist did not respond to my disclosure that trauma could be the cause of my dysphoria. Instead of viewing this trauma as potentially driving my desire to escape my female body through hormones and surgery, she asked whether there is anything “important that the surgery team should be aware of” regarding my “history of trauma,” such as whether I’d be comfortable with the surgeon examining and marking my chest prior to surgery.

When asked about whether I had had any “psychotic symptoms,” I told her that while I had had no such symptoms, my mother had a delusional nervous breakdown in her 50s because she had body dysmorphia and became convinced she had a growth on her neck that needed to be removed. I told her that my mother was then admitted to an inpatient hospital for severe depression. I asked her whether she ever sees patients with body dysmorphia and whether I could have potentially inherited that from my mother. She told me that psychosis was hereditary, but that it was “highly unlikely” that there was any connection between body dysmorphia and gender dysphoria.

I enthusiastically waved more mental health red flags, waiting to see if she would pick up on any of them.

I’m just wondering if my feelings, or perseverating, or feeling like these breasts make me really unhappy and I just don’t want them anymore!...I’m just not sure if that’s a similar feeling to body dysmorphia? How do you decide which one is gender dysphoria and general body dysmorphia, and just not liking something about your body? Feeling uncomfortable with your body? And I did have an eating disorder all through college. I was a distance runner in college so I had bulimia and anorexia, you know. So I don’t know if that’s related to gender dysphoria?

The therapist replied, “I completely appreciate your concerns, but I am going to ask you questions about your chest, about your expectations. And then I’ll be able to give you an assessment.” She also said the main difference between my mom’s situation and mine was that my mom didn’t really have a growth on her neck, whereas it’s “confirmed” that I actually have “chest tissue.” Furthermore, she said that while “historically there has been all this pressure on patients to be like ‘Are you really, really sure you want hormones? Are you 100% sure?’ We are a little more relaxed.” She continued, “As long as you are aware of the risks and the side-effects, you can put your toe in the water. You can stop ‘T’ [testosterone], you can go back and do it again later! You can stop it! You can stop it! You know what I mean?”

Because we ran out of time, I scheduled a follow-up phone meeting on December 27, 2022 with a different gender specialist to complete my mental health assessment for top surgery.

Pre-Surgery Mental Health Video Appointment, Part II

During this meeting, Guneet Kaur, LCSW, another Kaiser gender specialist (she/her/they/them pronouns) told me that she regretted the “gatekeeping vibe” of the meeting but assured me that since I have been “doing the work,” her questions are essentially just a form of “emotional support” before talking with the medical providers.

She asked me about what I’d been “looking into as far as hormones.” I told her that I’d be interested in taking small doses of testosterone to counterbalance my female feelings to achieve “a feeling that’s kind of neutral.”

When she asked me about me “not feeling like I match on the outside what I feel on the inside,” I dropped more red flags, mentioning my aversion to wearing dresses and skirts.

I don’t own a single dress or a skirt and haven't in 20 years. I think for me it’s been just dressing the way that’s comfortable for me, which is just wearing, jeans and sweatshirts and I have a lot of flannel shirts and, and I wear boots all the time instead of other kinds of shoes. So I think it’s been nice being able to dress, especially because I work from home now most of the time that just a feeling of clothing being one of the ways that I can feel more non-binary in my everyday life.

She responded, “Like having control over what you wear and yeah. Kind of that feeling of just, yeah, this is who I am today. That’s awesome. Yeah.”

She then asked me to describe my dysphoria, and I told her that I didn’t like the “feeling of the female form and being chesty,” and that because I am going through menopause, I wanted to start taking testosterone to avoid “that feeling of being like this apple-shaped older woman.” “Good. Okay, great,” she responded, reminding me that only “top surgery,” not testosterone, would be able to solve my chest dysphoria. (Perhaps it was because all these meetings were online, they didn’t notice I’m actually fit and relatively slender at 5’-5” and 130 pounds, and not apple-shaped at all.)

She told me that we had to get through a few more questions related to my medical history before “we can move on to the fun stuff, which is testosterone and top surgery.”

The “fun stuff” consisted of a discussion about the physical and mood changes I could expect, and her asking me about the dose of testosterone I wanted to take and the kind of “top surgery” technique I’d prefer to achieve my “chest goals.” She told me that all or most of my consultations for surgeries and hormones would be virtual.

The gender specialist told me after the appointment, she would submit my referral to the Multi-Specialty Transitions Clinic (MST) team that oversees “gender expansive care.” They would follow up to schedule a “nursing call” with me to review my medical history, after which they’d schedule my appointment with a surgeon for a consultation. Her instructions for this consultation were to “tell them what you’re wanting for surgery and then they share with you their game plan.”

[ Decision-making slide to help me identify my goals for top surgery–flat chest, nipple sensation, or minimal scarring. Source: Kaiser Permanente, Top Surgery - EXPLORING YOUR SURGICAL OPTIONS ]

She told me that Kaiser has a team of plastic surgeons who “only work with trans and nonbinary patients because there’s just so much need for them.” She asked about my priorities for chest surgery, such as whether I value flatness over nipple sensation. I learned about double incision top surgery with nipple grafts, as well as “keyhole,” “donut,” “buttonhole,” and “Inverted-T” top surgeries.

By the end of the hour-long appointment, I had my surgery referral and was ready for my “nursing call” appointment.

Nursing call with Nurse Coordinator from the Transgender Surgery and Gender Pathways Clinic at Kaiser San Francisco

On January 19, 2023, I had my nursing call with the Nurse Coordinator. He first said that “the purpose of this call is just for us to go through your chart together and make sure everything’s as accurate as possible.” Once that was done, my referral would be sent to the surgeon for a consultation.

He asked me about potential allergies and recreational drug use, and verified that I was up to date on mammograms, pap smears, and colon cancer screenings, as well as vaccines for flu and COVID. I verified my surgical history as well as my current medications and dietary supplements.

He told me about a “top surgery class” available for patients where one of the Kaiser surgeons “presents and talks about surgical techniques and options within top surgery,” and includes a panel of patients who have had top surgery. I signed up for the February 8th class.

Within 10 minutes he told me that he had “sent a referral to the plastic surgery department at Kaiser Sacramento,” and that I should be hearing from them in the next week or two to schedule a consultation.

Appointment for Testosterone

On January 27, I had a 13-minute online appointment with a primary care doctor at Kaiser Davis to discuss testosterone. The doctor verified my name and preferred pronouns, and then directly asked: “So, what would you like to do? What kind of physical things are you looking for?”

I told her I wanted facial hair, a more muscular and less “curvy” physique, and to feel stronger and androgynous. She asked me when I wanted to start, and I told her in the next few months. She asked me if I was menopausal, whether I had ovaries and a uterus, although that information should have been on my chart.

The doctor said she wanted me to come in to get some labs so she could check my current estrogen, testosterone, and hemoglobin levels before starting hormones. Then “we'll set the ball in motion and you'll be going. We’ll see you full steam ahead in the direction you wanna go.”

That was it. I made an appointment and had my lab tests done on February 12. My labs came back on February 14, and the following day, after paying a $5 copay at the Kaiser pharmacy, I picked up my testosterone pump. That was easy!

Top Surgery Consultation

On the same day I received my labs, I had a Zoom surgery consultation with Karly Autumn-Kaplan, MD, Kaiser Sacramento plastic surgeon. This consultation was all about discussing my “goals” for surgery, not about whether surgery was needed or appropriate.

I told the surgeon that I wanted a “flatter, more androgynous appearance.” She asked me some questions to get a better idea of what that meant for me. She said that some patients want a “male chest,” but that others “want to look like nothing, like just straight up and down, sometimes not even nipples.” Others still wanted their chest to appear slightly feminine and only “slightly rounded.” I told her that I’d like my chest to have a “male appearance.”

“What are your thoughts about keeping your nipples?” she asked. “Are you interested in having nipples or would you like them removed?” I told her that I’d like to keep my nipples, but to make them “smaller in size.” She asked me if I’d like them moved to “the edge of the peck muscle” to achieve “a more male appearance.” I said yes.

I was asked to show my bare chest from the front and side, which I did. Then she asked me how important it was for me to keep my nipple sensation. I replied that it was important unless it would make recovery more difficult or there were other associated risks. She highlighted the problem with the free nipple graft, saying that removing the nipple to relocate it means “you're not gonna have sensation in that nipple and areola anymore.” However, some nipple sensation could be preserved by keeping it attached to “a little stalk of tissue” with “real nerves going to it,” but that would require leaving more tissue behind. I told her I’d go for the free nipple graft to achieve a flatter appearance. It was also suggested I could skip nipple reconstruction entirely and just get nipples “tattooed” directly onto my chest.

She told me I was “a good candidate for surgery,” and put me on the surgery wait list. She said that the wait time was between three and five months, but a cancellation could move me up to a sooner date. Also, if I wanted surgery as soon as possible, I could tell the surgery scheduler that I’d be willing to have any of the other three surgeons perform my mastectomy. Outpatient top surgery would cost me a copay of $100.

They contacted twice, in February and March, notifying me of cancellations. If I had accepted and shown up on those dates, they would have removed my breasts. This would have been less than five months from the time I first contacted Kaiser to inform them of my new “nonbinary” gender identity.

How Far Can I Go?

I decided to see how easy it would be for me to get approved for a phalloplasty. Known euphemistically as “bottom surgery,” phalloplasty is the surgical creation of an artificial penis, generally using tissue from the thigh or arm.

I sent an email on March 1, 2023, requesting to have a phalloplasty and concurrent hysterectomy scheduled alongside my mastectomy.

Two weeks later, on March 16th, I had a 16-minute phone call with a gender specialist to discuss my goals for bottom surgery and obtain my referral.

During the call, I explained to the specialist that I wasn’t sure about taking testosterone anymore because I was already quite athletic and muscular, and that taking testosterone didn’t make much sense to me. Instead, I wanted bottom surgery so that I wouldn’t feel like my “top” didn’t match my “bottom.” I told her:

But what I really wanted was to have bottom surgery. So this way when I have my top surgery, which sounds like it could be very soon, that I’ll be aligned, that I won’t have this sense of dysphoria with one part of my body and the other part feeling like it matched who I am. So yeah. So I just did a little bit more research into that. And I looked at the resources on the Kaiser page for the MST clinic and I think I know what I want, which is the hysterectomy and then at the same time or soon after to be able to have a phalloplasty.

I told her that I wanted to schedule the top and bottom surgery concurrently so that I wouldn’t have to take more time off work and it would save me trips to San Francisco or Oakland, or wherever I had to go for surgery.

None of this gave the gender specialist pause. After a brief conversation about some online resources to look over, she told me that she would “submit the referral now and we’ll get this ball rolling.”

Bottom surgery would cost me a copay of $200, which included a couple of days in the hospital for recovery.

Phalloplasty Surgical Consultation with Nurse Coordinator

On May 16, 2023, I had a short surgical consultation with a nurse coordinator to go through my medical history. This was similar to the consultation for top surgery but included information about hair removal procedures for the skin on my “donor site” that would be fashioned into a makeshift penis. They also went over the procedures for determining which donor site—forearm or thigh—was more viable.

After only 15 minutes, she submitted my referral to the surgeon for another surgical consultation.

On May 25 I received an email from my phalloplasty surgeon’s scheduler, informing me that they have received my referral and are actively working on scheduling, but that they are experiencing delays.

I ended my investigation here once I had the referral for the top and bottom surgery. I never used my testosterone pump.

Final Thoughts

In fewer than 300 days, based on a set of superficial and shifting thoughts about my gender and my “embodiment goals” triggered by the mere mention of “gender” in a form letter from my primary care physician, and driven by what could only be described as minor discomforts, Kaiser Permanente’s esteemed “multi-disciplinary team” of “gender specialists” was willing, with enthusiasm—while ignoring mental health concerns, history of sexual trauma, and rapidly escalating surgical requests—to prescribe life-altering medications and perform surgeries to remove my breasts, uterus, and vagina, close my vaginal opening, and attempt a complex surgery with high failure and complication rates to create a functionless representation of a penis that destroys the integrity of my arm or thigh in the process.

This describes the supposedly meticulous, lengthy, and safety-focused process that a Kaiser patient must undergo to embark on a journey to medically alter their body. No clinician questioned my motivations. No one showed concern that I might be addressing a mental health issue through radical and irreversible interventions that wouldn’t address my amorphous problems. There were no discussions about how these treatments would impact my long-term health, romantic relationships, family, or sex life. I charted the course. The clinicians followed my lead without question. The guiding issue was what I wanted to look like.

No other medical field operates with this level of carelessness and disregard for patient health and welfare. No other medical field addresses issues of self-perception with surgery and labels it “medically necessary.” No other medical field is this disconnected from the reality of the patients it serves.

Kaiser has traded medicine for ideology. It’s far beyond time we stop the ruse of considering “gender-affirming” interventions as anything approaching medical care.

This isn’t the first time Kaiser Permanente has been in the news for completely disregarding medical safeguards in the name of “gender-affirming care.” As girls, Chloe Cole and Layla Jane became convinced that they were born in the wrong body and were actually boys on the inside. Doctors at Kaiser ignored their underlying conditions and instead prescribed testosterone and removed their breasts. Both Cole and Jane have since detransitioned and are currently suing Kaiser.

The fact that children and vulnerable adults are being exploited in this massive ideological experiment is not just tragic; it’s deeply disturbing, especially considering it has evolved into a billion-dollar industry.

I hope that by sharing my story, I can bring more focused scrutiny to the medical scandal unfolding not just at Kaiser but also at medical centers and hospitals across the Western world. These institutions have completely abandoned medical safeguards for patients who claim to be confused about their “gender,” and I aim to awaken more parents and assist them in protecting their children.

--

==

This is completely insane.

Apologists online are running around saying, but she didn't mean it, she was lying, she was pretending...

It doesn't matter.

Any kind of security, penetration or integrity test is insincere too. When security researchers compromise Microsoft's operating system or Google's browser or whatever, "but they didn't mean it" is not a defence to a discovered security flaw. It doesn't matter that the security researchers didn't plan to steal data or money or identities. The flaw in the system is there regardless.

It doesn't matter that it was insincere. Because the workers didn't know that. They never checked, never asked questions, never tested. They had been taught and instructed to never ask any questions. They did what they were supposed to. And the system failed spectacularly. Because that's what "gender affirming care" means.

Additionally, the claim that Beth Bourne committed fraud is an outright lie. A patient cannot bill. They do not have the authority. The medical clinic is the only one that can bill, and they must supply a diagnosis and a medical necessity.

If they didn't diagnose her and just wrote down what she said, then they committed fraud. If they claim they did diagnose her, then they committed fraud, because the diagnosis they concocted was bogus. This, by the way, is actually going on. Clinics are reporting fake endocrine and other disorders to get blockers, hormones and other interventions. Jamie Reed and other whistleblowers have documented evidence of this. Beth Bourne is not responsible for what the clinic does. They have medical licenses and legal responsibility. Not her.

Additionally, anyone who actually read the article would know how she tested the system. She said things like, "I've always been not that feminine. So, maybe I get my boobs removed." And they said, "sure." Instead of saying, "wait, why do you think that?" Framing it as her lying is itself a lie. They violated their ethical obligations. That much is incontrovertible. And it's directly the result of "gender affirming care," where clinics and clinicians rubber-stamp anything deemed "trans" based entirely on ideological, not medical, grounds.

[nahoney22]

❛  i would like to know what i can do to help.  ❜ with tech and a gn!reader please from the comfort fluff prompts? ☺️ I suffer from bad migraines quite often and I feel like this prompt is so tech coded? Established relationship or not up to you. Cheers! Congrats on 4k 😊

4000 Follower Prompt Celebration

Tech X GN!Reader

word count: 1.1k

prompt:

• “I would like to know what I can do to help.”

When Tech notices you in pain one day, he feels obliged to help you in anyway he can in order to ease your migraines.

warnings: Fluff, little bit of flirting, mutual pining, gender neutral reader has migraines, lots of comfort.

authors note: This was a sweet prompt! Thank you and enjoy ☀️

As you and Tech were carefully maneuvering a heavy crate, a sudden wave of agony seized your head, forcing you to drop your side of the crate, the tools clattering loudly. Startled, Tech turned to face you, his expression shifting to one of concern as he observed you grimacing and clutching the side of your head, the pain evident on your features.

"Are you alright?" Tech inquired, his voice laced with worry as he noticed your discomfort.

"Just a sudden headache," you managed to reply through clenched teeth, attempting to straighten up despite the throbbing ache. "Maker, it’s really intense."

Frowning with concern, Tech set down his side of the crate and moved closer to you. He reached out to gently touch your head, his brows furrowing as he assessed the situation. "Have you recently experienced any head trauma?"

"Not that I can recall," you confessed, allowing Tech to offer his assistance. Suddenly, a shiver ran down your spine, and you couldn't shake the feeling of coldness enveloping you. "Is it getting colder, or is it just me?"

Tech paused, considering your words. "Given that we're on Tatooine, known for its scorching heat, it's unlikely to be a change in temperature."

Guiding you inside the ship, Tech urged you to take a seat in the pilot's chair while he prepared to run some tests. The pain persisted, each pulse of pain accompanied by a heightened sensitivity to light that made even keeping your eyes open an excruciating ordeal.

"I think it might be a migraine, Tech," you voiced your suspicion, another symptom emerging as you began to feel clammy, a sensation you recognized from past experiences.

"I believe you might be right," Tech concurred, swiftly analysing your condition. "I will take you to the nearest medical clinic immediately."

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head vehemently. Despite the pain, you were reluctant to waste time seeking medical attention. "No, Tech, I just need rest," you reassured, rising to your feet with a slight wobble. Tech instinctively moved to support you, his arm encircling your waist.

"Well, if you insist," Tech relented, knowing it was futile to argue with your determination. "But if your symptoms worsen, we will seek further medical assistance."

You chuckled softly, though it was accompanied by a wince of pain. "That's fine with me," you sighed, leaning into him for support.

"I would like to know what I can do to help," Tech offered, his concern evident in his voice.

You're grateful for Tech's presence by your side. It had been years since you last experienced a migraine of this intensity, and facing it alone was not something you relished. With someone as caring as Tech by your side, you felt reassured that you were in good hands.

"I'm going to close my eyes... the ship is too bright," you remarked, finding it ironic considering the usual dimness of the vessel. Even the faintest glimmer of light seemed to exacerbate your condition. "Can you guide me to the bunks?"

"Of course," Tech responded, his arm still providing support while his free hand reached out for you to grasp onto. Together, you navigated through the ship, Tech carefully ensuring you didn't stumble over any discarded equipment. "You may rest in my bunk."

"At least buy me lunch first," you teased with a smirk, noticing how Tech tensed beside you at your playful remark.

"P-Perhaps when you are feeling better," he stammered, his response not escaping your notice, silently surprising you with his reaction. But with a shared understanding, you both focused on the task at hand – getting you settled into his bunk. With Tech's gentle guidance, you found yourself sitting on the bunk, your eyes still closed against the pain.

"Stay here, and I'll fetch you some water and check the medkit for something to ease the pain," Tech instructed before you heard the sound of his retreating footsteps. Taking a moment to make yourself comfortable, you kick off your boots and carefully lay back, the persistent throb at the side of your head making your teeth clench.

When Tech returned, he informed you, "I have taken the liberty of dimming all the ship's lights, so if you feel comfortable enough to open your eyes, go ahead." Hesitant but trusting him, you slowly opened your eyes, relieved to find the lighting just right – not too bright to strain your eyes but enough to see without worsening your migraine.

"This sucks," you sighed, feeling guilty for inconveniencing Tech and taking him away from his duties to assist you. "I'm sorry."

"I am unsure as to why you are apologising," he replied, his attention focused on rummaging through the medkit before presenting a stim. "You are feeling unwell, and therefore, as a teammate, I should ensure you are as comfortable before anything else."

You turned your head to face him as he crouched down beside you, his gentle hold on your arm signaling his readiness to administer the stim that would hopefully alleviate some of your discomfort and aid in inducing sleep. "So if this were one of your brothers, you would act the same? Give them your bunk?" you inquired, raising a brow ever so slightly as you observed his reaction.

"Well, perhaps not exactly as I have with you, no," he admitted, clearing his throat as he briefly averted his gaze as he prepared to administer the stim. After a moment's pause, he proceeded to give you the medication, his demeanor slightly awkward yet caring.

"I'm just teasing you, Tech," you reassured softly, offering him a smile of gratitude.

"That is very gratifying to hear, I must admit," he replied, returning your smile. For a moment, you both shared a meaningful gaze, as if conveying unspoken sentiments. It felt intimate, a connection that neither of you knew how to put into words. However, the moment was fleeting as another wave of pain washed over you, causing you to close your eyes and look away.

"Here," Tech said gently, scooping his arm under your back to lift you just enough for a quick sip of water before easing you back down. "It's time for you to get some rest."

You nodded in agreement, silently thanking him for the water. "Good idea. Thank you, Tech," you whispered softly as you pulled his blanket over yourself, reveling in the familiar scent that enveloped you. "Your sheets smell of you."

Though you couldn't see it, his eyes briefly widened at your remark. "I am hoping that is a good thing."

"It is," you confirmed with a small chuckle, "you smell nice."

Tech settled beside you, maintaining a watchful presence until sleep finally claimed you, ensuring that you could rest undisturbed and free from pain. His unwavering care and attention provided a sense of comfort as you drifted off, hoping you know that if you need him, he will always be there.

Masterlist

More Tech Works

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[cyofii]

— HIS FAVORITE HEALER

Jing Yuan x HEALER! GN! Reader

TW!: mentions of blood

Jing Yuan was hurt while on one of his exceedingly risky operations as the general of the Xianzhou Luofu. Upon returning to the Luofu, Yanqing observed the general leaving the Seat of Divine Foresight as he was smiling. 'Suspicious...' the young boy thought. Now Jing Yuan was in front of a small building— a clinic and entered, paying no attention to the stares of the patients inside.

“Hello, my dear. Would you mind aiding your boyfriend in mending his wounds?" Jing Yuan said as he displayed his bleeding arm in front of you. He was showing a fake sad expression, but you could tell he was faking it.

Gazing unperturbedly at Jing Yuan's bloodied arm for a moment, you sighed and shook your head.

"Come here so I can heal you." You gave a small smile, patting the chair in front of you.

The General grinned broadly and responded, "Thank you, my dear." When given the chance, he will get extremely touchy. He is the kind of man that won't give his loved one a second thought and will show them all the affection he has for them.

Before placing your hands on his bleeding arm, Jing Yuan observed your soft palms inspecting his arm with great care. His lips twitched into a smile.

“Ah…” He groaned out, trying to suppress his giggles. “Your hands are soft and gentle… Just like you.” He laughed, giving your hand a small squeeze.

You felt your cheeks heating up at his words. You hurriedly cleaned up his bleeding arm before wrapping it up with the bandages you prepared. Before letting him go, you pinched his side. His breath caught in his throat as he felt your fingers pinch his side. It was painful, but he managed to grit his teeth and hold his laughter in.

Your lover gave you a stern look, though it was not long before his expression changed. He let out a hearty laugh, slapping his thigh. “You got me good there.” He said with a small smile.

“Whatever…” You mumble out, throwing the bloody tissues in the trash as you clean the remaining used medical tools at the table while sitting. Jing Yuan could not stop himself from chuckling, giving your hand a quick pat.

His expression would change to that of a sly grin.

“You look cute when you pout.” He said, giggling. “So stern, yet so adorable. I love it, darling.” He giggled, giving your hand another tight squeeze. He was clearly amused, but also enjoying the moment to the fullest.

You chuckled at what he said and squeezed his hand gently. “You can return tomorrow so that I can change your bandage once more. I have other patients waiting for me.” You kissed his hands and grinned pitifully at your lover.

Jing Yuan pouted at your words as he was in the process of enjoying your company.

“Can’t I stay a little longer?” He implored. “I don’t want to leave yet…”

He whined and gripped your hand tighter as you caressed his hand, his cheeks turning a slight pink.

“Pretty please? I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He urged with a bright adorable smile. Despite all that, he looked like a spoiled child.

“...Alright, I just hope my patients won’t ask me any questions about why you are here…" You sighed. Jing Yuan’s eyes lit up upon hearing your response.

His smile was like that of a child who just got their favorite toy. He looked utterly delighted.

“Thanks, my dear.” He said, chuckling softly. “I’m ever so grateful.”

He stood up from his chair and pulled you up with him, smiling warmly at you.

“I promise, you won’t regret this.” He said before planting a small kiss on your cheek…

One of your patients was looking fondly at the two of you, the general of the Luofu, resting his head on your shoulder with his eyes closed while you wrote away on the clipboard you were holding. ‘What a cute sight’ some would say if they saw you two.

[tommi3boy]

“I wouldn’t mind seeing your face here every once in a while.” | {SDV Harvey x gn! Reader}

Word count: 820

Warnings: minor injury, no name used

Pairing: Harvey x gn! reader

A/N: Farmers first interaction with Harvey, a little bit of corporate worker angst at the beginning but mostly fluff

“If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change” grandpa’s letter wrote. Those words spoke true to your situation. The day-to-day of being a corporate slave has sucked all the emotion from your being. You craved something that would bring that spark back. However, trying to bring your grandpa’s land to its former glory has proven to be a major challenge.

You lay awake in the small cabin, your back aches, and you’re desperately trying not to itch the bug bites on your arms. You’d be kidding yourself if you acted like the tremendous amount of physical labor was fulfilling. There was no turning back though, you had to put faith in your grandpa’s action for gifting you this opportunity.

Your first batch of parsnips were finally ready to be dug up. This was a huge achievement in your book, feeling that spark of joy flutter in your chest. You set off to town, hoping to get a couple bucks off the parsnips at Pierre’s general store.

Pierre seemed kind of shocked that you managed to actually grow some produce at the farm. He applauded your hard work and was thrilled about getting some more fresh produce in the future. Such a friendly interaction had brought on more of that fuzzy feeling you had been missing.

While you were in town, you needed to grab some basic first aid tools to clean up your blistered hands.

Unfortunately, Pierre’s didn’t carry such things, so you were ushered to head next door to the clinic.

This was your first time in the clinic since moving. The man behind the counter was scribbling something on paper when you entered. He looked up at the sound of the door.

“Hello, are you by chance the new farmer in town.”

This guy was nothing like what you imagined the town doctor to look like. He was quite handsome to be honest.

“Yup I’m the new farmer, sorry for not coming by to introduce myself earlier; I’ve been pretty busy.”

“No worries, my name is Harvey, I’m the town’s one and only doctor. Is there anything I can help you with today?”

He had that friendly kind of expression where you could see more of his smile in his eyes than on his lips.

“Nice to meet you Harvey, I just need some first aid supplies to keep at the farm. I’m new to this whole lifestyle, so I’m kind of a hot mess right now.”

His expression change was very animated, maybe a little amused at your words but also a little worried.

“Oh my, I bet that’s been rough. I can definitely lend you a first aid kit. Since you’re here, why don’t I fix you up.”

“Are you sure? It’s just minor things, and I’m sure you must be busy being the only doctor in town.”

You looked over the counter and saw he was doodling airplanes on a piece of scrap paper.

“I don’t mind one bit; it’s my job to help after all”

You were sat down in a small room and watched Harvey put some hydrogen peroxide on a cotton ball to clean your blisters with.

“This might sting a little so bear with me.”

It sure did sting. Harvey was being really gentle about his care. He often looked up to see if you were making any sort of pained expression.

“So, what brought you to the valley? You said this was a new lifestyle for you; was there a sudden urge to become a farmer?”

You let out a small pained chuckle. “God I wish, I mean, it’s hard work but it’s satisfying. To be honest, I came to Stardew Valley on a whim, wanted a fresh start.”

“Ah I see, it’s a lovely town so I can see that sort of appeal. Try not to push yourself too hard though.”

You know he’s just saying that because it’s his job to care for the townsfolk’s health, but he seems really genuine with his words.

“I’ll make sure you don’t see me here too often,” you said jokingly.

“That’s the goal, but I wouldn’t mind seeing your face here every once in a while.”

Was that flirting? Maybe just friendliness, since this is a professional setting. You’re definitely a little flustered either way.

Harvey made a small care package of first aid items for you to take home. Your hands had some bandages on them, and he even went to the length of putting some ointment on your bug bites.

“Take care now farmer, and welcome to the town. I’ll be here if you ever need anything.”

“Thank you Harvey, you’re a really kind person.”

There was a little bit of rosiness in his smile when you left the clinic.

This new lifestyle of yours is really starting to pay off, you haven’t felt this kind of contentment in a long time.

[mossy-opal]

Spoiled Rotten

Sako Atsuhiro x Reader

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Torture, Mentions of What Happend to Giran, Medical Jargon, Smut

It was different, working here and being a proper doctor. It was quite the cushy lifestyle, it paid well, you could do your research however you pleased, no one ever really bothered you…

Until it started getting odd.

You never asked questions, it was better not to. It was safer to keep your head down and move on, to stay safe, to stay unseen. But, when your supervisor had told you to remove the fingers of a man who didn’t need the surgery, questions started popping up in your mind. Who were you really working for, what was their business, why did they have you do this, what would happen to you if you didn’t comply? So many questions, so little time.

You tried to ignore that nagging feeling that something was wrong, that feeling that ate at the back of your mind and chewed it’s way through your chest. You were hurting a man who, for all you knew, didn’t deserve to be hurt. You were torturing a man.

Eventually, you did find out why you were doing those things, and it made you sick to your stomach with dread. You knew you were torturing him, but you were torturing him for specific information. Information on the League of Villains. You were in far too deep to back out now, and there was no way you wouldn’t be killed if you dared try. You were apart of a liberation group, and you didn’t even have a quirk to liberate. They supported your courses through college, fast-tracked you to get your doctorate, paid you handsomly, gave you an endless amount of tools and time to do whatever you so pleased. You thought some sort of good luck had finally shined upon you, but this wasn’t good luck. This wasn’t even luck to begin with.

This was a curse.

Things got a lot busier for you after your little realisation. Your clinic was one of the only buildings left untouched by the beast that had rampaged the city, and the destruction that Tomura Shigaraki had caused. You had to confirm the deaths of hundreds, which became hard when they were piles of ash. Not only that, you had to help aid in the recovery of even more. Including the League.

Which went far better than you were anticipating. You expected push back from at least some of them, complaints about being touched by “the enemy”, but no. Nothing. You even aided in the recovery of Shigaraki himself, and he was silent for the most part. Toga was easy to take care of, you gave her a lollipop after her treatment, Jin too. Dabi was fine for the most part, as was Shuichi- Spinner.

Your favourite patient however, was Mr. Compress. Otherwise known as Sako Atsuhiro. He wasn’t injured too extremely, but he was facsinating because he had been amputated. Due to your aiding in the removal of poor Giran’s fingers, you had looked into amputation more, looking into what you could do and how you could possibly replace what was lost. You researched the possiblities in prosthetics and the capabilities that they could have, as well as how you could possibly improve them.

Sako was the perfect candidate for your experimentations. He was perfectly willing as well, which was just icing on the cake. It was the least you could do for them, not only to prove your loyalty to them and their cause, but also to, in your own way, atone for what you did to Giran. Which, you had admitted to them immediately. Granted you hadn’t known what exactly you were doing, only doing what you were told, but you still hurt the poor man, so you wanted to do something to help them, anything.

You researched prosthetics even more after that, and had worked not only on something for Giran, but for Sako as well. Unfortunately for Giran, there was not much you could do for fingers, unless you managed to weasel your way into getting nerve-technology from your managers, and even then it wasn’t likely to work. Sako was an easier feat. Of course, before you did any kind of experimentations on him or worked on anything, you had to speak with him, get to know him, get that doctor-patient bond that most doctors had with their patients.

Once again, he was willing to do that for you.

Maybe a bit too much, though.

He was certainly the showman of the League, often speaking in terms of grandure and theatrics, talking you up every chance he had. Every appointment, every opportunity, every time he passed you in the hallways, every time he saw you in town, he was at your side, telling you stories about his life, telling you his interests and dislikes.

It was… Cute.

He seemed to follow you like a lost puppy, perhaps it was the way you carried yourself, perhaps it was your similarity in age, maybe it was just because he was bored, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t need to ask. It was a habit of yours, maybe it was from your time with Destro and his goonies, but you didn’t mind it so much when it came to Sako.

You got to know him a lot more than a doctor should probably know their patient. You felt comfortable with him, you connected with him, you loved working with him and working on his arm, it was fun for you, he made it easy.

That became a problem when you started feeling more than a doctor to him.

You felt like a confidant for him, someone he could come to if he needed to, and to some extent, you were. But he visited your home in his off-time, went to lunch with you, even asked you about dinner from time to time.

You couldn’t allow that.

It was drastically inappropriate for a doctor to take advantage of a patient in a way such as that, there had to be a line drawn somewhere. But if you were to be fair with yourself, you did like him a lot. He was a villain, you worked for villains, you did some evil acts yourself.

You worked for villains.

…

Rules be damned, you deserved to endulge yourself, it wasn’t like he was that much younger than you anyway. So anytime he’d make a comment, anytime he’d make a flirt, you would match him. Anytime he offered to pay for something, you had it covered. You gifted him plenty of new clothes, expensive snacks imported from other countries, and you used the ludicrious amount of fincances you were paid to spoil him completely.

You could tell he was… Not used to the treatment.

It made you smile every time he would faulter or flounder over his words. Anytime you saw his face, you always complimented him for how handsome he looked, and you loved to see the blush that would reach his ears.

It became a sort of competition between the two of you, to see who would fluster the other more, who would flirt harder, who would make the first official move. You oftentimes topped his gifts and won on that front, because your funds were almost limitless. Sako lived in the mansion of Re-Destro, but you offered your home to him as a more private alternative. He didn’t have to move in if he didn’t want to, but you offered.

He took you up on it.

That was when things got… Harder.

You hade a very neat and tidy home, your schedule and work ethic carrying over into how you did things at home. Wake up, go for a walk, eat, shower, go to work. At work you would care for patients, do paperwork, eat lunch, work with more patients, and go home. You’d make dinner, look over more paperwork, shower again, and go to bed.

Now with Sako, he got to see how you worked, and he got to see a more relaxed side of you.

No longer in a button down shirt and slacks, you’d walk around your home in the shortest shorts, the tightest shirts, he was sure you weren’t wearing anything underneath. It made his mouth water, it made his pants tighter, it made working with you a lot more difficult, because all he could imagine were those damn shorts you wore. All he could think of when you bent over to install his new arm was the view he’d get when you’d bend over at home. Down your shirt, the curve of your ass, your flushed face after your walks, your silent moans when you crack your neck.

“Sako?”

What he wouldn’t give to hear you say his name, all breathy and whiney.

“Sako?”

You’d beg him for more, he coudl certainly rpay you like that, if only you’d allow it.

“Sako!”

He shook his head and blinked, “I’m so sorry my dear, were you speaking to me?”

You laughed, yet another music to his hears, “Yes, I was asking if this prosthetic feels better, if you have any complaints, and I was asking you to move your arm~”

He laughed nervously, thankful for his mask to be on today to hide his shame from you. He did as you asked him, feeling how the prosthetic fit him, how it felt. So far he had no complaints, and as he flexed his arm to test how it felt, he noticed it.

“Something’s different…”

You giggle, nodding, “Yes, something is very different.”

He moved it again, and he watched as his hand moved, his fingers flexing as he tested the new piece. He wasn’t sure, but he wanted to check before he freaked out.

He grabbed your hand, your skin was soft.

“Sako?”

“How did you manage this? What-”

You laughed again, a soft flush coming to your face, “Well don’t tell anyone you’re my favourite patient but… I did this specifically for you. Destro didn’t particularly allow me to look into or work with nerve technology, but I did it out of my own paycheck. It was a lot, but if it allows you to feel once again, I think it’s worth it.”

He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to marry you if you’d allow it. He wanted to do so much to repay you, even though he knew he never could.

You were a saint to him, a saviour, a dream come true, an angel. He wanted to tell you everything, but…

Anytime he flirted, anytime you flirted back, he thought you figured he was simply joking, that this was how he acted with everyone, despite that not being the case. He was never like this before he met you. Sure, he was a sweet-talker, someone who knew how to carry a conversation, with a bit of flair added to it, but he wasn’t openly flirtatious with anyone. Maybe in his teen years, but not now. Not for well over a decade.

“How could I ever thank you for this I- I don’t want to ever take this off! I can feel again, really feel! It’s fantastic!”

You laughed, shaking your head, your hand stil in his. He was always like this, always determined to repay you for your kindness, despite telling him time and time again he needn’t worry about it. Every new suit or costume, every new mask, every snack, every lunch, every day. There was nothing you needed from him, nothing more you wanted from him.

Just his company was enough.

“Please be sure to remove it when you shower, just to be sure to wash your arm properly. As for re-fastening it, it’s just like any other one of your prosthetics…”

You kept explaining it to him, but he couldn’t hear you. Obviously he would follow your instructions, but all he could think about was tonight. When you’d get home, how he’d repay you. A movie? No, far too cheesy. It had to be something phenomenal. Something that would make your jaw drop. Something to prove to you what he meant when he flirted with you.

When you had waved him off to see other patients, he told you he’d see you at home, that alone warmed your heart- He called your home his home. The rest of your shift went on smoothly, you checked out a child patient and a few others, the most exciting thing that happened today was Sako’s appointment.

Until you got home.

As soon as he left, he went to a flower shop. Then, he got candles. Next, he got ingredients for a meal to make for you, wine, the works. You usually caqme home to make dinner, it was an honour to help you make dinner, the two of you often cooked together. Not today though, today he wanted to spoil you as much as he could. If this didn’t show you how he felt, he didn’t know what would.

He cleaned up the little mess there was, he set up the roses all over the house in little vases, he lit the candles when he was done cooking, everything was set up perfectly, right on time.

“What…?”

Walking out of the kitchen soace, Sako bows, dressed in half a suit you had gotten him, his lseeves rolled up, his new prosthetic attached.

“Welcome home my dear…”

“Sako what is all this…?”

“My thanks to you, after everything you’ve done for me it is the least I can do for you~”

There were slight tears in your eyes, your face flushed and a surprised smile present. He offered you his hand, the hand you had just given him feeling back into, and you gladly took it. He led you to the dining area, sitting you down and serving you the meal he had prepared for you, your favourite.

“Sako, you didn’t have to do all of this…”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re mistaken my dear, I did. I wanted to. After everything you’ve done for me, it’s the very least I could do…. Save for asking for your hand.”

You could’ve sworn you stopped breathing.

Now or never.

“My dear I’m not quite sure if you realise, but I am quite fond of you. You’re very important to me, to the League. I couldn’t imagine what my life would be like without you in it. I am not your patient, and you are not my doctor. I adore you, I love you, and I want to call you mine.”

You would cry if you weren’t so shocked, you didn’t know what you would do if he kneeled onto one knee, you were thankful he didn’t. You’d probably die.

“Sako… I don’t know what to say…”

“You needn’t say a thing my dear, let’s enjoy dinner, and our evening together.”

You certainly did. There weren’t even dishes to do afterwards, because Sako cleaned them up for you. By the time you were ready to retire for bed, Sako had moved to go to his own room, but you grabbed his hand.

“Oh no, you don’t get your own room after confessing your love to me, you sleep with me now.”

He felt his face flush, “Darling I don’t think that’d be wise…”

You scoffed teasingly, “And why is that~?”

His chuckle sent shivers down your spine, as he moved closer to you, gently caressing your face, “Because, darling, I don’t think I’d be able to control myself at that point~”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, your face flushing an even darker red.

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint you~”

“I don’t think that’s possible~”

His hand held your face as he leaned down to kiss you, the kiss feeling as if a weight was lifted off of your chest, it felt like you were floating, like you were finally free to express yourself to him, to give him everything, just like you wanted.

You pressed against him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as if your life depended on it. It was everything you had ever dreamed of and more, and it was so satisfying. Breaking the kiss for a short moment, you dragged him to your bedroom, opening and closing the door, quickly working on unbuttoning his shirt, Sako doing the same for you.

“Darling, slow down, I’m not going anywhere~”

You scoffed again, “As if you’re one to talk~”

You were right, as you were with most things. He was rushing to get your shirt unbuttoned, half-tempted to simply tear it open. The both of you were eager to finally, finally feel each other, fully. You had the opportunity to touch him however you needed, often stealing quick gropes you didn’t truly need, but Sako never got the chance, only dreaming of how soft you’d feel, how you’d feel between his fingers, against his body, on his tongue.

He finally had his chance, and he was not going to wait or hesitate any longer.

The kissing grew feverish as he pushed you into your bed, and lord the scent he loved was finally surrounding him fully as he laid you beneath him, touching and groping at your chest as his hands moved down your waist to remove your pants and underwear.

You pushed against his chest with your hand, making him stop kissing you. He would ask you why, but your eager hands moved to undo his own pants, and he chuckled again. He saw you pout and blush.

“So desperate for me, hm~?”

“Yes~”

He flushed at how forward you were, before you finally got his pants down, tangling your hands in his hair to pull him in for another kiss. He pushed himself against you as he crawled over you. Using his new prosthetic, he adored the feeling of your skin against his hand- His hand. Despite it being a prosthetic, this was apart of him, and this one was the easiest one for him to accept. All because of you. You had done so much for him…

You were shocked he had pulled away so abruptly, before he lifted your legs over his shoulders and started going down on you, making you squeal in surprise. No one had ever been this eager to do this for you, to lick and suck at your most inimate parts. You always had to beg for them to do anything, so this was a first for you. You saw him using his arms close wrap your legs around his head even tighter, his grip on your almost bruising as he pleased you.

It wasn’t just for you, either.

He had been dreaming of this, and nothing he ever dreamed of could compare to how divine you tasted, how wonderful it felt having your thighs wrapped around his head, how cute your little noises were. He moaned against you, and that made you moan even louder, your hand gripping his hair, and pulling.

He groaned at that, pulling away from you before you could finish, making you whine. He cooed at you, shaking his head.

“Don’t fret my dear, we’re not done yet… I want to take my time with you, to feel you in every way possible~”

With his new arm, he pressed a singular finger into you, curling it just right to make you whine. He chuckled, copying the motion over and over again, your hips bucking with every movement. He even had to hold your hips down.

“It’s a good thing I’m doing this darling,” He pushed another finger into you, scissoring you, “Neither one of us are used to this, so I need to be sure you’re taken extra care of, as to not hurt you~”

“S-Sako y-y-you’re teasing…”

He clicked his tongued as he cooed at you, “Yes, I am~”

He chuckled while he fucked you slowly with his fingers, his other hand wrapped around his cock, moving in time. The sight before him he wanted to remember, every sinlg detail, Your head was rolled back, your mouth wide open with praise and moans falling out in slurs, your chest rising and falling, your legs wide open with him slotted between them, playing with you, and touching himself.

It was beautiful, the dance you two were doing.

Once he added another finger in, he began moving faster, making your hips start bucking again, making him tut. He stopped stroking himself, immediately gripping your hip and holding you down.

“Stop. Moving.”

You whined and it was gorgeous, but you needed to be good and behave. So you did, moving to grip the hand that was burried deep inside you, and he jolted when he remembered he could feel it again. You whined and you begged, and before you could reach ecstasy, he stopped, pulling his fingers out of you.

“Sako~!”

“Ah ah ah, no complaining dear~” He squeezede your hips again as he lined himself up with you, chuckling to himself, “Ooh darling, I can’t wait to mark you up~”

Before you could ask what he meant, he pushed in to you, hissing at the feeling, kissing you deeply, swallowing your squeal. He stayed there for a moment, your hips twitching at his sudden intrusion, but not moving more than that. He chuckled into your mouth, moving to kiss at your cheeks, biting your jaw line, kissing your neck ever so gently, before he bite you again. Hard. You gasped a moan, moaning once more when he first thrusts his hips into you. He groans against your neck as he bites you again, in a different area, sucking at you neck, doing as he promised.

Marking you up.

You never imagined he’d fit inside of you so perfectly, making you feel more full than you ever had, his thrusting being the slowest torture you’ve ever experienced. You figured you deserved it, despite thinking this to be torture, you knew he was just treating you right, taking his time with you, making sure you felt every inch.

Your past partners went hard and fast, and ver rarely did you ever get to where you needed to go while they chased after their own highs. But Sako was unlike any of your previous partners, having gotten you to the edge twice already, before teasing you with that feeling of fleeting pleasure, before doing it again. Sako was a man who knew how to please his partner, and he had plenty of time to plot exactly what he wanted to do to you.

He wanted you to be shattered around him, he wanted you to feel what you did to him, and he wanted you to get there first. Pulling away from your hickey-ridden neck, he smirked. His hands were on your hips, occassionally squeezing them. His hips started moving faster, his prosthetic moving to toy with you further as he continued to fuck into you.

“Ha-ha Darling~ You feel soo good wrapped around me like this~ Y-you haven’t a clue how long- Mmm- How long I’ve wanted you like this… All for me, marked up, begging, just for me~”

You moaned with a nod, feeling your climax coming up even faster now.

“Tell me, who- Who do you belong to? Who makes you feel this good~?”

“You- S-sako, you do~! Y-you- A-always been you- You~!”

He laughed softly, his hips stuttering, “F-fuck- I-I can’t last much lon-longer~”

“P-please… Please please-”

“Mmmm, please what~?”

“L-let me cum- Please~! Cum inside me- fuck I don’t care~! I love you so much I want it~!”

That was enough to send him over the edge, well over the edge. Cursing to himself as his hips stuttered again, spurting into you, he faltered atop you, holding himself up as he pressed closer to you.

When he came, you snapped, cumming yourself. You screamed silently before you moaned into his ear, thanking him. He was confused, in the height of his climax, he didn’t feel you finish, so why were you thanking him?

“That was… Amazing…”

“But, ha, you didn’t…”

You laughed, kissing his cheek and shaking your head, “Oh no love, I did. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Ever. You didn’t even use any toys and you made me see stars~”

Sako laughed, slowly pulling out of you, watching his essence ooze from you. “Well, it was quite the performance from us both, no~?”

“A performance I’d love to see again~”

You were going to be the death of him.

Tags I Know Of: @slayersins @shadowsandshapes @dabislittlemouse @dabislittlebeaniebaby @the-milk-anon @shockinglysubmissive @kelin-is-writing @elias-fable

[sirfrogsworth]

This article nor Google is telling me what the fuck "clinically neutral" therapy is supposed to be.

First of all, most gender affirming care includes a therapy component already.

Second, THERAPY IS NOT MAGIC.

I saw this comment...

The "send them to therapy" crowd really needs to learn what therapy actually is.

What kind of therapy? What is the protocol? Is the therapist a specialist? Is the therapy evidence-based? Is there proof the therapy provides good outcomes? What are the goals of the therapy?

This is nearly as broad as telling people to "get medicine."

These people think therapy can make young folks not trans anymore. Therapists will just talk to someone and they'll clear that whole thing right up with their magic therapy powers. And apparently Lucky Dog Guy also thinks it will fix the "suicide issue."

Therapy is not a fix, it is a tool.

It helps build coping and acceptance strategies. But if you are depressed it can't make you not depressed. It can help you manage depression. If you are anxious it can't cure your anxiety. It can help you manage it. And if you have an inherent gender identity, it can help you accept yourself and cope with dysphoria, but it cannot fundamentally change who you are.

Almost all serious mental health issues require a multipronged approach of talk therapy and medical intervention. I know of no therapy that can provide the same level of positive outcomes as gender affirming care. If they want to force some other kind of therapy on trans people, they need to be specific about the therapy protocol and provide evidence it is actually helpful.

This sounds like "Please go to these 'approved' therapists we selected" and not the specialists that can actually help.

It sounds like sneaky conversion therapy.

Only not all that sneaky.

[zhivaoverdrive]

Non comic version Visit https://linktr.ee/zhiva_overdrive for Implant & Body Modifications morphs captions and stories. ---- "Surely am! Don't look like a taxi do I? The name is Dara, now are we going to get you to the Implant Expander Clinic or what?" - Dara ----

She'd said yes immediately, without a second thought. When the magazine said jump, Dara said how high. But that wasn't all, not this time.

"Airport pickup? Sure. What's a bigwig doing out here?" she said into the phone. Dara looked into the mirror as she spoke, trying on a few expressions that might win her some points. Dara may not have been a covergirl yet, but she was a smokeshow and she knew it. Pulling her shirt a little lower, she smiled at brand new breasts that greeted her. Might be my moment, she thought.

"Not exactly a bigwig... listen we're trying to keep this under wraps. Will you pick her up or not?" said the voice on the phone, after a long pause.

Dara stopped dead in her tracks. A HER from the magazine. Travelling here... Now that *is* interesting. Some careful prying won't hurt.

"You got it, my lips are sealed! When and where? Staying in the Ritz like normal?" she said. Still in front of the mirror, Dara tried to remove all traces of curiosity from her voice and face.

"... no, not a hotel. Look I'll send you the flight details, then take her where she's going. Keep it quiet and we'll owe you one, you and the car in the next issue, guaranteed." the voice on the phone said, the finality of the statement quite clear. It's her. Has to be. Dara said her pleasantries and hung up the phone, mind racing.

She was no fool. Everyone knows what is in this city; hell, she'd recently visited the clinic herself. A woman from the magazine, coming here and not staying in a hotel. There could be no mistaking it.

And if it was just any woman she'd get a taxi... They want it under wraps, so it MUST be her.

Dara walked to her garage and opened the door, eyes landing on her pride and joy. It wasn't exactly the right tool for the job. Would she even fit? Sliding the front passenger seat forward, Dara felt a pang of excitement run through her body as she gazed at the back seats, still unsure if they would accommodate her fare.

Natasha changed everything. She's about to sit in this car...

Dara stepped out and tenderly ran her hand down the A pillar. We're going to make an impression aren't we. ---

She was tired, she was hot, she was ready to not be in an airport. The performative charade of her departure from the plane had seemed fun at first, but hiding under a blanket in the tropical sun had quickly soured that adventure.

Had this trip been for any other reason, Natasha would not put up with these indecencies. I guess I've made my bed here... she thought.

One way or the other, she needed to get back to the IEC. Inside, she'd known that quite a long time ago. It was hard to tell precisely when she'd crossed the threshold, gone beyond the pale, but it had happened. The week she'd spent locked in her room with the saline pumps running? Perhaps it was then...

Finally out of the terminal, away from her 'security escort', Natasha looked around a quiet parking lot. Tossing her blankets of decency aside, she began a careful walk, searching for some sign of her ride. Like the plane, she'd been assured that everything had been organised. If they'd managed to sneak her into the crew of a commercial flight, surely they can book a big taxi...

Rounding a corner, Natasha's eyes fell on the first living person she'd seen in the car park so far. Suddenly wishing for the blanket, she smiled meekly and continued her cautious gait.

"Natasha! You're not planning to *walk* there are you?" said the stranger.

Natasha did a double take. The stranger was squatting down in front of a striking white car. She wore a leather jacket and skirt, both of which did very little to conceal her curves. The skirt rode up revealing a quite clearly artificial ass, not to mention the proud implants protruding from her open jacket.

Who am I to judge, Natasha laughed to herself, as her scantily clad form was not a beacon of modesty. She felt her confidence coming back. This was more like it. No more hiding.

Taking the final steps with care, Natasha approached the crouching stranger. "You're from the magazine, I take it?" she said, bending forward to meet the strangers gaze. The move threatened to fold her spine in half, but seeing the sass begin to fade from the stranger's face told her that it was worth the pain. But the stranger recovered quickly. "Surely am! Don't look like a taxi do I? The name is Dara, now are we going to get you to the Implant Expander Clinic or what?"

This whole trip had been nothing but secrecy, cloak and dagger. Tash was about to let out a scowl, but caught herself. There was something about Dara that she liked.

[jaegerjackoff]

The Doctor | Part 1 | The Mandalorian

> Part 2

summary: When the Child falls ill, the Mandalorian seeks a familiar doctor.

pairing: eventual Din Djarin x OC afab!reader (no physical descriptions; reader has relatives, a surname, and backstory/personality)

word count: +1.3k

a/n: I actually pulled myself out of a seven-year fic hiatus to do this. My writing is rusty™, so please be kind! And title suggestions would be stellar. 🥴 That one detail aside, I have a lot of backstory in mind, honestly to the point that "reader" is really just an OC who I'm writing in second-person. Debating third tbh. I'd love for any feedback (esp on Mando) and I hope to have a writing masterlist & another installment up in the near future! eta: thanks to local-fanfic-addict for the name suggestion!

warnings: rated T, minor descriptions of illness, referenced character death

-

A petulant cough from Din Djarin’s side cuts through the hiss of the gangplank rising behind him, a smoked visor tilting downward to regard the small lump in his knapsack. It hides the grimace upon his lips, the crease in his brow, at how miserable the Child seemed.

“Hang in there, kid. Not much longer,” Din murmurs, more to himself than the feverish body at his side – to steel his normally calm nerves – orange-tipped gloves passing in comforting strokes across roughened duraweave.

When he accepted a job on the last planet, the Child seemed fine, with a sniffle that could have been written off to the perpetual cold both aboard the Razor Crest and the planet they were on. Nearing the mission’s end, however, the Child was sweltering and had a deep, wet cough that obviously racked his tiny body.

First, panic. 

Din hadn’t the slightest idea as to how to care for a sick child. He hardly cared for himself properly and was only getting a feel for this bizarre parenthood. Of course, he was unprepared – utterly helpless to soothe the Child’s fitful crying. Din couldn’t help but shout while digging through the storage compartments at the paltry medical supplies upon the ‘Crest, which included a few tiny bacta pads and untouched nausea medicine (which, if he were honest with himself, had probably been aboard since the ship was manufactured).

Then, a realization.

Upon a moon several hours away by hyperspace was an old acquaintance. One who had saved his hide many years before, who would be safe for the Mandalorian and his foundling.

With much haste, Din concluded the mission – handed over a quarry (whose horror was suspended in carbonite), accepted payment, and quickly departed the frigid planet. Where he touched down was quite its contrary; verdant and temperate, known most predominantly for its abundant botanicals and as a picturesque, if underdeveloped, retreat. Warm air rushes beneath Din’s helmet as he treks through the streets of the quaint port town.

It had changed since his last visit, years ago, but remained relative enough that his memory could guide his measured footfall. He didn’t allow himself a chance to reminisce, carrying onward through the central marketplace to the edge of town, where sat a modest building labelled simply in Aurebesh:

doctor  apothecary open

Beneath the sign, the door is set open, voices carrying faintly from within. Two feminine and the grate of a masculine-programmed droid.

-

Days on Chaira were slow – simple. (Save for the occasional excitement from its residents, most often the arboriculture and logging industry nestled in the nearby mountains.) Once living there full-time, you’d quickly learnt why your father decided to settle down on this moon, of all in the galaxy.

Following the morning’s appointments, you slipped into the minutiae of managing the small clinic, bottling or compounding common medicines, writing up orders for a future supply run, and preparing files for appointments in the coming days. All the while, your resident 2-1B unit went about sanitizing surfaces and tools and tidying up.

Settling in for a late lunch at the front desk (just to be safe), you called your mother via holopad, through which you updated one another daily. You detailed your morning thus far and – for the systematic difference – your mother her entire day.

“Is 2-1B around?” Your mother’s query causes your eyes to flit upward in time to see the droid round the corner. Just how she always managed to ask of him right as he entered each time was beyond you.

“Yeah, right here,” you hum around a mouthful of peppery herb salad, pushing the puck transmitter closer to his side of the desk so he can wave an appendage to your mother. Meanwhile, you shovel another forkful of salad into your mouth.

“Salutations, Sola. I hope you are well. Isn’t it,” 2-1B pauses thoughtfully. “A bit late on Yavin 4?”

“Oh, please, 2-1B,” grouses your mother, and you can see the smile in her projection. “I’ll go to bed soon; I just had to check in with you two.”

Your eyes wander while they chit-chat, gazing out the door for several moments before you notice the head of a shadow pause just within view. You crane your neck and lean forward on your elbows to get a better idea of who (or what) is lingering outside, which 2-1B catches on to and turns as well.

“Mom, I think we might have a walk-in,” you share quietly, pushing your bowl off to one side.

“Alright, my loves. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Love you, mom; talk to you tomorrow,” you reply gently, and 2-1B pipes up in a farewell of his own. Just before the gracious image of your mother’s expression blinks away, the stranger finally crosses over the threshold (a wall of metal – beskar), commanding your attention, and your jaw falls momentarily slack.

Mandalorian.

But not in the mottled hues of flaking paint and common metal you so distantly recall. Instead, the portion of armor you can see from the drape of his cape is brilliant silver.

As you slowly rise to a stand behind the desk, you stuff down your awe, a spume of trepidation releasing in your chest.

(You can’t help wondering if this is the same one–)

“Pardon the interruption, but I need to see Doctor Vancil. Urgently.”

“I–” It takes everything in you not to crinkle your nose and press your lips thin at the assertion, at the underlying desperation that still finds its way through his vocoder. This wasn’t a spiel you’d had to deliver in some time. Allowing your eyes to close, you draw a deep breath before regarding the collected but imposing figure in your lobby.

“My father, Doctor Vancil, is one with the Force,” you answer, noting how the shiny helmet rears back slightly. “In his stead, my– his droid and I have been continuing his practice. 2-1B can check you out, and I’ll see to it that you get any medications you may need.”

You swear you catch the quietest, clipped end of a curse from the man before you, whose helmet slowly turns toward 2-1B. A slight, terrible cough followed by a coo emanates from somewhere at his hip level, causing your eyes to widen. 

A child? 

In a bag?

“I’ll accept your help – but no droids.”

Along with his dry declaration, the Mandalorian idly gestures two orange-tipped fingers toward your companion, and you nearly feel offended on his behalf. Yet the temperate droid, having gleaned much of his personality from your father, with whom he had been partnered almost all of his existence, understood your capability and responded with a “very well then” before toddling down the hallway at his back.

“Very well,” you parrot with an inkling of uncertainty. You collect your datapad as you round the desk to the same side as the Mandalorian stands, a small sweep of your arm beckoning him to join you, “We’re going into an exam room two doors down on the left. No droid.”

A modulated hum is nearly drowned out by the heavy trod of the Mandalorian’s boots as you shut the door gently behind the two of you and go to wash your hands at the small counter basin. He occupies the space almost uncomfortably, T visor sweeping its primitive decor of jars of cotton buds and tongue depressors, and a hanging plant with cascading purple leaves.

“So, what brings you in?” You glance over your shoulder and draw from your usual repertoire of starters, unsure how to address the child noise at his hip – which was now a soft babble.

“My foundling,” he clarifies, brushing aside the weathered cape to reveal a knapsack at his hip. From within it, he produces a wrinkly, green-skinned creature with large eyes and ears unlike anything you’d ever laid eyes on. “He started getting sick two days ago, and I’m not sure what to do.”

You nod slowly, contemplatively, trying to school your expression into professional impassivity. Although not a species you’d helped yet, it was a baby. (Probably.)

“Okay, I should absolutely be able to help. I just have a few questions to begin.”

> Part 2

-

Join My Taglist! (google forms)

[momlovesyoubest]

7 Tips For Feuding Midlife Siblings on Mother's Day

Celebrate Mother’s Day without the drama. Dote on Mom, but Ditch the  Daggers.   Celebrations on Mother’s Day, this coming Sunday, or any holiday can be a nightmare for adult siblings in a dysfunctional family. They have to show up, yet they prepare with the daggers – either wielded by them or a fellow sibling.   Here are 7 tips for adult siblings to follow on holidays like Mother’s Day this…

[rapeculturerealities]

The ER wouldn't treat her miscarriage. Ohio's 6-week abortion ban was in effect : Shots - Health News : NPR

The situation: Christina Zielke was discharged from an ER in Ohio without treatment for her miscarriage even though she'd been bleeding profusely for hours.

The state law: When Zielke was in Ohio in early September, the state had a law known as a "heartbeat bill" in effect, which bans abortion after about six weeks of pregnancy. The law was passed in 2019, and went into effect the same day the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade on June 24. In mid-September, a judge in Hamilton County blocked the law. Ohio's Republican attorney general has begun the appeals process, and the case is ultimately expected to go to the state supreme court.

Health care providers who violate the law face fifth-degree felony charges, up to a year in prison, loss of their medical license, and fines up to $20,000.

What's at stake: Ohio's abortion restriction doesn't explicitly restrict the treatment of miscarriages or emergency care, but it can have that effect anyway.

Health care providers use the same clinical tools to manage a miscarriage as they do to perform abortions – the medications and surgical options are identical. That can mean when someone seeks care during a miscarriage, a pharmacist or doctor who suspects a patient is seeking an abortion might deny or delay providing treatment, fearing prosecution.

[d0nutzgg]

Predicting Alzheimer's With Machine Learning

Alzheimer's disease is a progressive neurodegenerative disorder that affects millions of people worldwide. Early diagnosis is crucial for managing the disease and potentially slowing its progression. My interest in this area is deeply personal. My great grandmother, Bonnie, passed away from Alzheimer's in 2000, and my grandmother, Jonette, who is Bonnie's daughter, is currently exhibiting symptoms of the disease. This personal connection has motivated me to apply my skills as a data scientist to contribute to the ongoing research in Alzheimer's disease.

Model Creation

The first step in creating the model was to identify relevant features that could potentially influence the onset of Alzheimer's disease. After careful consideration, I chose the following features: Mini-Mental State Examination (MMSE), Clinical Dementia Rating (CDR), Socioeconomic Status (SES), and Normalized Whole Brain Volume (nWBV).

MMSE: This is a commonly used test for cognitive function and mental status. Lower scores on the MMSE can indicate severe cognitive impairment, a common symptom of Alzheimer's.

CDR: This is a numeric scale used to quantify the severity of symptoms of dementia. A higher CDR score can indicate more severe dementia.

SES: Socioeconomic status has been found to influence health outcomes, including cognitive function and dementia.

nWBV: This represents the volume of the brain, adjusted for head size. A decrease in nWBV can be indicative of brain atrophy, a common symptom of Alzheimer's.

After selecting these features, I used a combination of Logistic Regression and Random Forest Classifier models in a Stacking Classifier to predict the onset of Alzheimer's disease. The model was trained on a dataset with these selected features and then tested on a separate dataset to evaluate its performance.

Model Performance

To validate the model's performance, I used a ROC curve plot (below), as well as a cross-validation accuracy scoring mechanism.

The ROC curve (Receiver Operating Characteristic curve) is a plot that illustrates the diagnostic ability of a model as its discrimination threshold is varied. It is great for visualizing the accuracy of binary classification models. The curve is created by plotting the true positive rate (TPR) against the false positive rate (FPR) at various threshold settings.

The area under the ROC curve, often referred to as the AUC (Area Under the Curve), provides a measure of the model's ability to distinguish between positive and negative classes. The AUC can be interpreted as the probability that the model will rank a randomly chosen positive instance higher than a randomly chosen negative one.

The AUC value ranges from 0 to 1. An AUC of 0.5 suggests no discrimination (i.e., the model has no ability to distinguish between positive and negative classes), 1 represents perfect discrimination (i.e., the model has perfect ability to distinguish between positive and negative classes), and 0 represents total misclassification.

The model's score of an AUC of 0.98 is excellent. It suggests that the model has a very high ability to distinguish between positive and negative classes.

The model also performed extremely well in another test, which showed the model has a final cross-validation score of 0.953. This high score indicates that the model was able to accurately predict the onset of Alzheimer's disease based on the selected features.

However, it's important to note that while this model can be a useful tool for predicting Alzheimer's disease, it should not be the sole basis for a diagnosis. Doctors should consider all aspects of diagnostic information when making a diagnosis.

Conclusion

The development and application of machine learning models like this one are revolutionizing the medical field. They offer the potential for early diagnosis of neurodegenerative diseases like Alzheimer's, which can significantly improve patient outcomes. However, these models are tools to assist healthcare professionals, not replace them. The human element in medicine, including a comprehensive understanding of the patient's health history and symptoms, remains crucial.

Despite the challenges, the potential of machine learning models in improving early diagnosis leaves me and my family hopeful. As we continue to advance in technology and research, we move closer to a world where diseases like Alzheimer's can be effectively managed, and hopefully, one day, cured.

[whumpshaped]

from this @skittles-the-whumpee

Lab whump with a whumpee was grown in a lab so there's technically nothing illegal but over time the human clone lab rat starts gaining sentience.

tw lab whump, hospital-esque setting, mention of a bunch of medical equipment and procedures but nothing really descriptive, nonhuman (clone?) whumpee, death wish at the very end

whumper is clinical and cold, never really caring about their test subject

whumper is actually fond of the little lab rat... so long as they're obedient and perfect for their purpose

whumper is a little reluctant from the get go. is this really okay? when whumpee starts showing signs of sentience, these feelings of doubt start getting out of control

whumpee loves their owner. loves the lab. the experiments can be harsh, but the first feelings they experience are love and joy

whumpee hates the lab. hates hates hates it more than anything. the first feelings they experience are rage and hatred

whumpee knows nothing but pain and isolation. the first feelings they experience are loneliness and terror

the lab itself is a dubious place where many things are hush hush, and everyone only ever knows as much as they absolutely must

it's not a tight knit community by any means. everyone keeps to themselves. whumper is just as isolated as whumpee - they kind of only have each other for company

whumpee starts asking questions like who am i? where am i? why am i?

whumper explains the experiment and whumpee is horrified

whumper tells whumpee they don't need to know about any of that

cages and syringes and white coats and white walls and sterile environments and surgical tables and surgical tools and sutures and incisions and blinding lights and leather straps and metal restraints and paper gowns and the constant buzzing of the equipment and beeping of the monitors

whumpee is a clone. an actual clone made of a real person's stolen dna. whumpee manages to escape and runs into someone who looks just like them

whumpee is actually made of whumper's dna. whumper is doing all these experiments on someone who looks exactly like themself. whumpee doesn't even realise this because there are no mirrors- they have no idea what they look like

whumper

"getting a little too emotional there, are we? i suppose it's time to make a new one again, start fresh."

"don't pretend to understand things like that. emotions, thoughts and feelings... they're not for you."

"i know exactly what you can and can't feel because i made you."

"i'd say it's for the greater good, but honestly? it's not. they're in it for the money, i'm in it for the money, and you're in it because you don't have a choice."

"you... can feel that?"

"where did you hear that? / where did you learn that?"

"you weren't supposed to be able to cry."

whumpee

"i don't understand! i don't understand anything! please! please help me understand!"

"i can feel this horrible pain in my chest regardless of the amount of painkillers and i don't get it. why won't it go away?"

"i've never had water come out of my eyes like that before... not- not in this quantity- is, is this something new you've done to me?"

"i just can't stop. i can't stop shaking."

"please stop hurting me. i don't think i can take it anymore. i don't want to take it."

"whenever you leave... i get so restless. like i want to run after you, be somewhere near you. it must be intentional, right? is that to prevent me from escaping? but i've never felt it before..."

"this thing... this state called death. i think that's what i really want."

~

@ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Lisa Selin Davis

Published: Apr 11, 2024

A long-awaited report out this week found that medical professionals in the UK who advocate for gender transition in children are misguided ideologues.

Written by British pediatrician Dr. Hilary Cass, The Cass Review, which is nearly 400 pages and took more than four years to compile, comes to the following conclusions:

Thousands of vulnerable young people were given life-altering treatments with “no good evidence on the long-term outcomes of interventions to manage gender-related distress.” 

“It has been suggested that hormone treatment reduces the elevated risk of death by suicide in this population, but the evidence found did not support this conclusion.”

“Social justice” ideology is driving medical decision-making, and “the toxicity of the debate” has created an environment “where professionals are so afraid to openly discuss their views.”

Activists insist the science on this matter is settled, but Cass’s tone recalls a stern British nanny calmly explaining to unruly children how to get their room in order. She shows us that everything about this issue is unsettled, and unsettling. For instance, she notes that “social transition”—when very young children assume other gender identities—is an “active intervention” that may set youths on a path to medical transition. And it may even make gender dysphoria worse.

The review, commissioned by England’s National Health Service, comes after more than a decade of whistleblowing by clinicians at the country’s Gender Identity Development Services, or GIDS, which was established in 1989 (but mostly off the radar for its first 20 years, because few children and families sought its services). 

These whistleblowers detailed how kids were fast-tracked to medication while a culture of fear grew around raising any concerns, even as demand for youth gender medicine exploded. Eventually, the NHS decommissioned GIDS and hired the neutral, no-nonsense Cass to detail what went wrong and what to do right moving forward.

Her report made the further damning conclusions:

Clinicians “are unable to reliably predict which children/young people will transition successfully and which might regret or detransition at a later date.”

A disproportionate number of patients were “birth registered females presenting in adolescence. . . . a different cohort from that looked at by earlier studies.”

Many parents feared their children had been medicalized by professionals who didn’t take other difficulties into account, “such as loss of a parent, traumatic illness, diagnosis of neurodiversity, and isolation or bullying in school.”

There is a lack of strong evidence to show that puberty blockers “may improve gender dysphoria or overall mental health.”

The majority of gender-dysphoric patients in early studies found that their symptoms desisted during puberty, with most coming out as gay or bisexual later.

Cass notes that “for most young people, a medical pathway will not be the best way to manage their gender-related distress.” She supports expanding the treatment to regional, holistic centers, essentially ending the specialist gender clinic model. That treatment should be based on unbiased psychological care, and robust and consistent evaluation tools must be developed so reliable evidence can finally be gathered. 

This final report—and an interim one Cass issued in 2022—echoes what a number of Western nations, such as Finland and Sweden, have found when they reviewed their own youth gender services. It also underscores what we see in the United States: poor quality research, an unstudied population, and detransitioners traumatized by the treatment they received.

Today, red states are banning the medicalization of gender dysphoric youth, while some blue states have declared themselves medical sanctuaries for minors seeking transition. Medical associations—from the American Academy of Pediatrics to the American Psychological Association—continue to support the “affirmative” model criticized by Cass in her report. 

In her review, Cass directly addresses the 9,000 young people who have moved through gender treatments via the NHS, stating bluntly: research “has let us all down, most importantly you.” 

The U.S. needs to form a truly bipartisan commission that looks at the evidence regarding youth gender medicine. As things stand now, we will continue to be stuck in a perpetual culture war, with parents and distressed kids paying the price.

[loki-zen]

Still can't work out what the actual point of the Cass report is. I've still not managed to properly read it but it does seem that its content is way tamer and more trans positive than the reporting on it would suggest, but moreover, there doesn't seem to be any sense in which it compels anyone to do or not do anything at all? Like it's primarily talking about medical handling of trans issues, but there are accepted ways of collecting and presenting evidence on medical issues that the UK medical establishment are supposed to listen to, and those are:

NICE (National Institute for Health and Care Excellence) Guidelines and NICE Care Quality Standards - this is neither

Advice presented in a widely-used platform for constantly-updating summaries of the evidence on a subject intended to be used as a point-of-care tool - especially the Clinical Knowledge Summaries created by NHS LKS, or BMJ Best Practice (to which the NHS has a national subscription).

a Cochrane Review, or a peer-reviewed Systematic Review in a high-impact journal - this is the 'Gold Standard' of medical evidence on which the above sources base their recommendations, and on which Trusts will base their local policies if there isn't NICE guidance on the subject

When no NICE guidance exists, the topic isn't covered by respected evidence summary formats, and no high-quality Systematic Reviews exist for this subset of the problem, a Trust may create local standards, via a rapid and/or scoping review process. This guidance is likely to be developed initially by whatever Trust has the biggest specialist centre for a given health concern and then copied by other Trusts.

There's a lot I still don't know, so I could have it wrong! But I'm not aware of anywhere that 'government reports' fit into the stuff people are supposed to look at to guide them in making medical decisions.

LKS = Library and Knowledge Services

BMJ = British Medical Journal