#Challenge related tags:

[drchristophedelongsblog]

The issue of equal access to care for older people compared to the working population is complex and raises significant challenges.

Here are some things to consider

Access to care and age-related discrimination 

There are concerns about age discrimination in health care.

Some studies suggest that older people may not receive the same treatments or interventions as younger patients, particularly in resource-limited settings.

Age stereotypes can influence medical decisions, sometimes leading to an underestimation of the health needs of older people.

Factors influencing access to care

Comorbidities

Older adults often have multiple health problems at the same time, which can complicate treatment and require more complex care.

Fragility

Frailty, a decrease in physiological reserve, can make older adults more vulnerable to complications and limit treatment options.

Geographic access

Older adults living in rural or remote areas may have limited access to specialists and health services.

Socio-economic factors:  Economic inequalities can also influence access to care, particularly for expensive or non-reimbursed treatments.

Developments and improvements

Efforts are being made to improve access to care for the elderly, particularly through the development of geriatrics, a medical specialty dedicated to the elderly.

Telemedicine and tech-age technologies can help improve access to home care and reduce geographic inequalities.

Awareness campaigns aim to combat age-related discrimination and promote a more equitable approach to health care.

Tech age as an asset

The aim of the tech age is to facilitate home care and relieve pressure on hospitals.

This allows elderly people to maintain a certain autonomy, and makes it easier to monitor the progress of their health.

In conclusion, although challenges persist, progress is being made to improve access to care for older people. It is essential to continue to promote an equitable and personalized approach to care, taking into account the specific needs of each individual.

Go further

[m00nbuggies]

theyre bffs guys

[boo-cool-robot]

Hieron Zine Comic: The Violence of Its Maintenance

[Read the left side as one storyline, the right side as another]

"For every inside, an outside." / "Every border implies the violence of its maintenance."

For me and @wellnoe's piece for the Hieron Zine, we were excited to tell a story about Hella’s semi-involuntary status as a mascot of Ordennan empire and borders as a literal technology of death that played with comic borders and formatting! The title is, of course, from the Ayesha A. Siddiqi quote.

Script for the comic below the cut, which also serves as a rough image description:

Layout note: Panels are small relative to the page and “float” in the gutter space. Adelaide swims freely between them and speaks to Hella inside the panels’ borders. The comic is laid out vertically, mostly in two columns. Panels on the left are labeled L, the center labeled M, and right labeled R. Panel numbers denote which row of the overall page they’re on.

Page 1: 3 Rows 

Panel M.1.A: Adaire hunched over a map of Hieron in a dimming twilight room.

Panel M.1.B: Close up of the map having Nacre added to it near the shore, and an outline sketched of its border, the pencil in Adaire’s hand. 

Panel M.1.C: Adaire’s hand in close-up, partially erasing the border around Nacre. 

Panel L.2: Hella outside the Ordennan border, at a tall gate. A guard looks at her suspiciously from the other side. 

Adelaide to Panel L.2: Adelaide looks at Hella condescendingly. 

Adelaide: Do you imagine that walls will keep Nacre’s gift out? 

Panel R.2: Hella and Hadrian ride in a halfling-driven cart through the refugee camp towards the Ordennan military camp. Hadrian watches Hella for her reaction to seeing the refugees. 

Panel L.3: Hella displays the emblem of the Tristes to a crowd of cheering soldiers, brandishing her sword in a stabbing gesture. 

Soldiers: Is that– From the cleansing of Nacre– She killed the queen! 

Adelaide to panel L.3: For every inside…

Panel R.3: Stornras Glasseye shows Hella and Hadrian a map of Ordenna’s planned invasion of Velas. 

Adelaide to panel R.3: …an outside. 

Page 2: 4 Rows

Panel L.1: Hella reads the book about her family being a line of traitors, inside the undersea cave. She is hunched over awkwardly, wet from swimming in, and visibly perturbed. 

Adelaide to Panel L.1: Adelaide reads over Hella’s shoulder. She’s draped over the panel like a cat, one hand dangling inside and the other holding an apple to her mouth.  

Adelaide: Our dear father did like that ancestor of yours, only for her to betray Nacre and then Ordenna. Varals love to hang people out to dry.  

Panel R.1: Hadrian and Hella interrogating Iduna Fel. Hella holds a torch up. Iduna, seated and hands bound, looks up at them and snarls at the torch, speaking of how Quintrona should burn Rosemerrow to stop the undead. 

Iduna Fel: We should be burning every place–every person–the curse has touched. 

Adelaide to Panel R.1: A family of traitors fits right in with the Tristes.

Panel L.2.A: Hella is on tour of Ordenna. She looks out distantly at the countryside. A clothesline with clothing hanging from them forming figures like people separates Hella in the panel from a mine like the ones her father worked.

Panel L.3.B: Hella on tour in an urban center, looking lost. Train tracks separate Hella from a guard station. 

Ordennan soldiers: Queenkiller! It’s the Queenkiller! 

Adelaide to panels L.2: Adelaide’s teeth are bared, her lazy demeanor dropping for one vicious moment. 

Adelaide:At least I remember that you should be called Kingkiller as well. 

Panel R.2: Hella and Hadrian walking back through the refugee camp. Refugees do laundry, multiple clotheslines crossing the panel, the clothes partially obscuring Hella and Hadrian. 

Adelaide to panel R.2: Do you believe your people to be better than me? They decide who dies to expand the borders of Ordenna. 

Panel L.3: Hella marching in front of a company of Anchor in a square formation, Ordennan soldiers crowding around them. Hella is smiling stiffly, uncomfortable. She is wearing a shiny new uniform. 

Panel R.3: Hella standing equally stiffly in front of a line of Pala-din that guard the Ordennan camp from the refugees. She watches a circle of refugees cooking and crafting, going about the business of their survival. Some are visibly undead. Two of the refugees are a Nacreite young Black sibling pair with an older boy and younger girl, invoking Calhoun and Adelaide.  Hadrian in the background examines a pala-din, his stance mirroring theirs. 

Adelaide to panel R.3: Adelaide looks at the siblings in panel R.3 but speaks over her shoulder to Hella on the left. 

Adelaide: Is it so monstrous that Nacre grows so that more may live after death? 

Panel L.4: Hella alone in a lavish Ordennan bedroom, looking out of place and small. Maybe in plain underclothes and curled up on a chair, looking angry.

Hella: Yes! 

Her dialogue fills up the panel, crowding her. 

Panel R.4: The refugees notice Hella and Hadrian and look at them warily. The boy steps in front of his sister. Hella looks small in the crowd of people. She holds a hand out to the boy. 

Page 3: 3 Rows

Panel L.1: Hella in a lavish Ordennan ceremonial chamber, on a stage. She is dressed in fine clothing given to her. A pearl-studded brooch with an Ordennan motif is being pinned on her by some military-uniformed functionary. 

Military functionary: For you, the spoils of our first battle. 

Gathered soldiers and civilians: Queenkiller! Queenkiller! Queenkiller! 

Panel R.1: Hella makes an awkward ‘open your hand’ gesture to the boy, who warily opens his hand. 

Refugees: Isn’t she….That’s the Queenkiller. The Queenkiller?

Panel L2: Hella, with her head bowed, has her arms and shoulders draped with garlands of gems and pearls looted from Nacre. The ends of the strands run down out of the bottom and side of the panel. 

Military functionary: May you always bear the fruits of our holy empire. 

Panel R.2: The boy has a handful of apple candies poured into his palm. He looks up, defiantly. A few candies fall down outside the panel. 

Adelaide, to both panels L.2 and R.2: She holds the end of a pearl garland in one hand and an apple candy in another 

Adelaide: Then tell me…What are you going to do about it, Hella Varal? 

Panel M.3.A: Adaire’s hand drawing the refugee camp in Knoll Hollow into a map of Rosemerrow. 

Panel M.3.B: The Ordennan military camp being drawn outside the refugee camp. 

Panel M.3.C: The wall around Rosemerrow being drawn between the refugee and Ordennan camps as a border. 

Title Text: The Violence of Its Maintenance 

Subtitle: Story and words by Will Xia (boo-cool-robot)

Art and lettering by Brenna (wellnoe)

[manhattan-gamestop]

The fact that some people can equate an entire musical genre to just its stereotypes and never listen to it is baffling to me. Like no, metal isn't just screaming, country isn't just trucks beer and misogyny, rap isn't just sexualizing women and getting money. When will people learn to escape their comfort zone oh my god

[lochlanratliff]

the feeling when when you were his one friend but he stole your company/life/inheritance/clothing and still has the nerve to look like this afterwards (while wearing said clothing)

[asha-mage]

Apprehension; Elaida

[Send me a fandom, character, or pairing and a one word prompt and I'll write a quick drabble for you!]

When the last of the fit subsided and Elaida’s vision cleared, she found her mother’s face gazing down at her. 

Her mother had not been born a beautiful woman. Beauty was not a gift of anyone in the House of Roihan, and Elaida at fifteen knew that the best anyone would ever say of her was that she was handsome, and mean it as a softening of severe. But Donielia do Aclris a’Roihan did not even have that. Maybe it had been different once, but time and worry had carved early wrinkles into her face, and left her with more grey in her hair then dark brown. 

Worry had been her constant companion for so long, Elaida did not think her mother had ever a known day free of it for the entity of Elaida’s life.

A hand, soft and gentle, stroked through Elaida’s hair. Not her mother’s. Her mother’s hand would have shaken.

“It’s alright dearest.” A soft lilting voice said. “It’s alright.”

Elaida turned her head- ignoring the ache and the pain in her neck to gaze up at her step father. She realized her head was resting in his lap, and he was gently combing his fingers through her hair, working out the tangles that had formed during Elaida’s fit.

Elaida had never known her birth father. He had died before she had ever taken her first breath. Carinis Avriny had raised her though, and when she had turned fifteen earlier this year, it had been him that had presented her to the gathred nobles during her deschorye’pizanzi, and it was his surname- Avriny- announced when she came down the stairs as part of her honors. If her birth father had a surname, it was not one worth knowing or honoring.

“What-” Elaida began then cut off. The words came out in a dry croak that hurt her throat. She had screamed herself raw again.

Without needing Elaida to ask, her mother stood and retrieved a pitcher of water which was lifted carefully to her lips. Elaida drank greedily, needing Carinis murmured reminders to pause for breath. But the water felt to good on her dry throat not to gulp it down. She had drained the pitcher in a handful of minutes and her mother set it aside.

“What-” Elaida tried again. Still painful and dry, but less so. Bearable enough to go on. “What did I say this time?”

Her mother and stepfather exchanged looks. For a moment she thought they wouldn’t tell her But finally her step father spoke. He recited the words like he might have his poetry, though Elaida knew it would not have sounded that nice when she had said it.

“The end draws near. The end comes on the winds of the of the broken east and the shattered promises of water. Peace is carved down the by axes of men, and burning leaves shall rain across the mountains and blanket the land in spears and blood. The land weeps. Spears pierce the flesh of men and the earth drinks it’s fill of blood. The land weeps. All this to anoint his coming. All this to mark a day twice blessed. Twice damned. All this to make fertile the land on which the final battle shall one day be fought. All this to clear the path for the last war. The first war. The only war.” He hesitated then, and Elaida forced herself to sit up, pushing sweaty tangled locks out of her eyes.

“What else?” She asked, her voice tight.

Her mother rested a hand on her father’s shoulder. He nodded.

“If their is hope, it is to be the found in the Blood of Ishara. The Ancient Blood.” Her stepfather whispered. “In the maiden of the golden flower and in the ender of feuds. In the one who walks barefoot under the sun and the one who wages war for the Tree of Life. In the one who leaves all she has known to become something new, and the one who walks away from all that is for sorrows found only in snow. In the Lion’s Heir, and the Iron Mountain’s leader. Born of the Lion’s Heir and the Iron Mountain. The Lion’s heir and the Iron Mountain. That is the hope of the world.”

Elaida sucked in a breath, letting it rush in over her teeth. Then she staggered to her feet and walked over to the window.

“The last thing I remember was being out in the field with Joni. We were approaching the river and then…” And then the fit had come on, and the world had turned liquid and strange and she had been surrounded by rushing filaments of light and horrifying things she could not comprehend. She had felt as if her whole body were going to crack open. It was like being struck by lightning.

Her little sister had wanted to see the butterflies. Elaida had known it might be a risk going so far from the house. But she had wanted to take it. To try at least. She was so so sick of the nurses and the attendants sworn to secrecy and every fungus peddling wise woman who could do nothing but give her a belly ache. 

She had just wanted to see the butterflies with her little sister. She deserved that. That and everything else these fits kept from her.

“She was very brave.” Carinis said gently. “She brought you back to us all by herself- and we brought you to rooms to…”

Wait it out. The only thing that could be done.

No one spoke for a bit. Elaida gazed out the window and thought of all the things that should be, that would never be. The House and land she would never rule- a small house and small land, but still what should have been her’s. The lovers she would never take. The joys she would never know. Her whole life would never be lived farther away from this room then she could be carried.

Was this how her father had felt she wondered? Was this why he had done it? Despite the wife who had risked everything to wed a commoner and a daughter on the way. If it was…she cursed the man for being so weak. For not staying away from her mother, despite their passion for each other. For being so thoughtless that he passed on whatever…disease or defect or curse this was to his child. And for abandoning her to deal with it alone.

She had never hated anyone as much as she hated him. She wished, savagely and wickedly, that the poison had not taken him gently- that he gone in wretched violence and agony. It would be to unjust for him to have anything else.

Elaida took a deep breath and turned to face her parents. “Am I…” She licked her lips. “...Am I going to die?”

Would it better if I died was the real question. And they knew it. The horrified looks on their faces said it all. But they didn’t understand. They couldn’t.

Every time one of the fits hit her, she was sure she was dead already.

“Elaida.” Her mother said sharply. “You must not-”

“I don’t want to live as a mad woman!” Elaida snapped, cutting her off. Something hot and angry was trickling down her cheeks, and she didn’t care. “Nothing’s working and it’s getting worse and-! And it’s not- it’s not fair!” She wanted to hurl something against the wall, but all the things that might have been broken by accident  during her fits had been removed long ago. “I don’t want to die! but this- this isn’t living! Father knew it and-” She cut of. She was sinking to her knees. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair!

“I don’t want to live as a mad woman.” She repeated, staring down at her hands. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t ask to be born to a lunatic. I don’t deserve this and it wont stop, not ever and-” She let out a choked sob. "I don't want to live as a mad woman.”

A choking silence fell on the room. It always did in moment’s like this. Like a blanket smothering a fire. Elaida felt cold and empty.

“Your father.” Carinis said softly. “Was not mad. And neither are you.”

“Carinis!” Elaida’s mother snapped furiously spinning to face him. Elaida blinked in shock. She had never seen her mother so angry or afraid before. Not just worried. Terrified. “We agreed-!”

Carinis shook his head. He had a muley look about him. Stubborn. “They're the only ones who can help my love. We’ve tried everything else. We have to accept-”

“No! Never!” Elaida’s mother spat.

“Help?” Something treacherous and wicked bloomed in Elaida’s chest. Hope. And yet she seized on it with all she was. It was all she knew how to do. “What help?”

For a moment, her mother and step father just stared at each other, and then her mother stood and turned to go. Her step fathered look so pained and anguished but he did not move to follow.

He turned to face her taking a deep breath. “Your father was not mad. Not yet. Not when he died. He…He was just trying to protect your mother. And you. He is to blame for your…fits. But not in the way you think.”

“Why?” Elaida demanded. “What was he if he wasn’t mad?”

But suddenly she knew. Maybe she had always known.

“He could channel Elaida.” Carinis said quietly. “And he took his own life before he could found by the Red Ajah. He did it to protect you, in case…”

“In case I was born a boy.” She let out a shuddering, terrible breath. She shook her head. “No. No. These fits- I don’t do anything. I just…I just rave. I’m not Aes Sedai just…just a stupid lunatic girl you’re trying to make feel better and it won’t-”

“You are not raving.” Carinis said firmly rising to take Elaida’s hands in his. “He could do it too. A talent he called it. Foretelling the future.”

Elaida felt true apprehension for the first time. Not fatalistic anger or fear. Dread of something distant and yet drawing closer.

“What did he Foretell about me?” She asked quietly.

Her step father inhaled. “Clever girl.” He muttered.

“I have a right-” She began drawing herself up.

“That you would cage kings. That you would stand atop the world and it would know your fury. That your name would never be forgotten- in this age or the next.” His voice had taken on a very sad cast, but Elaida could only feel painful hope growing more wild in her chest. “That you would lead the world through chaos and tribulation- and that would be your glory, and one day, your downfall.”

Elaida exhaled. Dread. Fear. Apprehension. And thorny wicked hope. Not a short nasty life of pain. But glory that would endure eons.

The last war. The first war. The only war.

“The Last Battle. It is coming.” She whispered.

And Elaida do Avriny a’Roihan would be at the forefront.

“Yes.” He agreed quietly. And she understood suddenly, why her mother didn’t want her to know. 

It will be your downfall.

But Elaida would rather fall one day, then never rise. Her mother knew that. Her step father knew that. And they had kept this from her in the hopes of sparing her from fate.

Dread threaded her every bone. But she would not give into it. Not ever. She would blaze brightly and never be forgotten. It wasn’t just senseless pain this….this- not a curse. This gift- it served a purpose. She served a purpose. She had been chosen by the Wheel for a task. Chosen to shape history.

“I have to go to the White Tower.” She said equal parts hope and apprehension. “I have to save the world.”

[cassiskurocorner]

Try not to make Sebastian have heated eye contact with another man challenge (Impossible edition)

[strobilo]

[faketrex]

SUNDAY LAST LINE SOMEWHAT

Time has been escaping me recently. I object! It doesn't help. Regardless, this little story still has a posting deadline, sooooooo good luck with that, me.

Thank you kindly for the recent Sunday and Wednesday and word game and sentence tags, @alasse9 @luainthewild @cha-melodius @porcelainmortal @anincompletelist @eusuntgratie @onthewaytosomewhere and @caterpills, I love reading your words!

Here is my contribution today: one sentence, the last one I wrote this morning.

...

The fact of the matter is that there's no limit to Henry's Alex-related storage space in his brain; Henry will always want to know the details of the story, because Henry will always want to know the details of Alex.

...

And now I'm going right back to it!

(tags under the cut)

Share whatever – your last line, some bit you really like, some bit that fought you nearly to death, anything, anything at all. Words. Art. Whatever!

Open tag, also tagging back all y'all who have tagged me, and also also tagging: @sparklepocalypse @writes-in-space @cricketnationrise @ninzied @stratocumulusperlucidus @everwitch-magiks @clrmntdzfx

[rouge-the-bat]

really hate the trend in many progressive circles where people diminish the suffering certain groups face by adding a caveat of "but dont forget youre not the intended target," or insist certain groups shouldnt even discuss their problems with "how dare you make this about yourself, others groups have it worse."

neither awareness, support, discussions, nor oppression are a competition or in limited supply. there is no reason to ignore or silence others to get more of the spotlight. you will only be aiding in others suffering by doing so.

[princessmacedon]

yuri, as he often tends to, appears with little more than a call of her name in greeting. “maria!” a lazy wave of one hand, the other raising a paper bag. “got some time to spare? i brought cake.”

he may not have been a student at the academy for long, but there's still plenty of corners in the monastery that he'd made his own secret getaways in that time. west of the cathedral is the goddess tower that students flock to; yuri much prefers the peace and quiet of the monastery walls past the nearby gate, with nothing mountains and trees as far as the eye could see.

that gate, like many other things, is broken now, but it makes the task of getting past it much easier. “i used to sneak out here to clear my head when i was still a student,” he says as perches where the wall is still intact and sets the bag down next to him. lilacs flick to maria, head inclining for her to join him. “i was a blue lion then,” he continues idly, pulling out two boxes of cake from the bag, then a third, smaller jewelry box that he sets in his lap, “just like you.”

“if you come at sunset, everyone's busy at dinner and you get a good view. keep it a secret, yeah?” yuri raises a finger to his lips with a smile before extending the jewelry box toward her. inside is a silver bracelet, a little mockingbird charm hanging from it. the symbol might not scare off the monastery's invaders, but it'll shoo off a bandit or three that would rather not risk the wrath of the savage mockingbird. “happy birthday, maria.”

"Hee hee... of course!"

She follows him somewhere, anywhere really, past the long years now scattered in the grass and through the half fallen gate that once kept them. Up the makeshift steps he goes with the grace she knows him for, and Maria -- well, she clambers after. Hers is a different sort of grace, a floating sort, all clouds gusting over meadows and not so experienced in creeping up crumbling stone, yet no less delighted for the fact she stumbles in her journey.

"A Blue Lion?" She echoes curiously, once she's settled with a giggle and her giggles are all settled. It's strange; she hadn't expected Yuri to have been a Blue Lion, but then-- a Deer? No way! An Eagle? Well... maybe? At this height, the breeze pushes past her face, and she holds up a hand to brace against it, squinting at them between sun and wind, as if looking will make more sense.

In does, in a way. There is some quiet satisfaction she finds in some quiet answer, silence balanced by the blare of a toothy grin pulled cheek to cheek. A finger rises to her lips in playful mimicry, a smile halved yet a doubled joy.

"I promise!" Maria breathes her laughter and the awe that follows, opening the box by the smallest sliver she may and stealing a tiny glimpse, never mind the fact it was a gift freely offered. A flash of silver, a fluttering of lashes -- she dares to open the box further and gasps softly when she does.

For once, she doesn't rush headlong into her words, merely slipping her wrist through the loop, holding her hand up to the mellowing light. The charm turns warm under the sunset, and --

"Hee hee... heeheehee!" When she splays her fingers, an entire sky of warm colors greets her back. Rose-red eyes dart toward Yuri with the barest turn of her head.

"Yuri, did you know?" She laughs again. "You just gave me two presents instead!"

Pulling her hand to her face, she presses her cheek against her knuckles, bracelet and charm dangling from her wrist. Hardly the most elegant way to show off her new treasure, but any good gift pairs well with happiness and appreciation, and both of these the little princess has in spades.

"--Thank you, though." Her expression turns soft as she thinks of it, holding the bracelet gently to her heart. "This makes me really... really happy. I mean it! I'll wear it every day!"

The silver bird spreads its wings and Maria wonders if it means anything; has it stowed away any wishes in its heart? A bid for whimsy, or even freedom? Whatever it is, the little princess lets it keep them, and hers along with it. They will never know that she has never felt at ease at an empty table, silly as it may sound. There is no need to, for now the whole sunset holds the secret Yuri shared with her; now the whole sunset is her friend, and the youngest daughter of Macedon will never eat another lonely dinner again.

[ryssbelle]

trying to be more active starting by tryna post all the stuff I've been neglecting to ;w; Heres a doodle I did for @sparkspsps of @heroesspirit Ravio!! I've done a lot of heroes spirit art so expect to see a lot of it, its a very good comic so yall better get your eyes on it and your hands reblogging!!

[transannabeth]

this is gonna be. a wild ask. are you all ok with me posting about writing on this blog or should i make a sideblog?

[miss-phamtom-1]

BESTIA‼️🗣️

((this is a song btw))

[sakurasim02]

I was tagged by: @kissalopa and @akitasimblr

I think the bottom palette matches my blog more. My irl palette is more of a light blue palette then pink shades. The app is called color magic.

I used Sakura my name and my blog name Sakurasims.

I tag: @sharona-sims @shmoodlet @aleksa-sims @satureja13 @changingplumbob

@cozylattesims @enchanting-whim @berrycactus @lossimsdevanesims33 @simscici

Feel free to just ignore if I tagged you.

app link:

Color Magic

[szilverer]

finally got back to my computer after ages & immediately did the most textured digital thing i could think of. album cover study feat my ghostie

heres the og cover! drew from scratch n couldnt exactly replicate the wall graffiti style but i still like how it came out anyway

rly recommend this album if u dig alt rock/metal/etc btw. theres a very distinct eletronic reggae beat to some of the songs + rap n screaming and i LOVE this kinda music hehe. link for quick perusal below