#all we know is its very much not sleep apnea (i did not think it was sleep apnea but they made me get tested for it anyway)

[voidimp]

man i would love to be asleep but unfortunately my brain

[honeyfizzly]

I'm constantly flipping back and forth wether I should trust tabitha or not because Its really suspicious how protective she is of us, even if we're an complete asshole to her.

Also there's the whole ritual thing going on with the goat, it could be possible that tabitha has ulterior motives and wants us alive because ... well idk a sacrifice seems the most obvious option but whatever she needs done, it seems to hinge on the mc's health.

There's also her connection to Wayne and the death of her mother.

Wayne apparently disappeared at the estate around the same time pearlanne did and pearlanne died of sleep apnea but apparently had no autopsy. I've seen some people propose the idea that tabitha mightve smothered her mother with a pillow, and I think that could check out.

Apparently it's very hard to tell if someone was suffocated with a pillow or not, and often times investigators have to rely on checking fibers near the victims mouth and eyes to idenity what suffocated them, and handprints + finger marks.

You also have to be relatively strong to suffocate someone- which powerful build can say tabitha is surprising strong despite her size (it's if tabitha threatens you and then you push her off)- and most of the time the victims for suffocation are people who would be unable to fight back like children or elderly (I'm not sure how old pearlanne is, but her corpse looks pretty damn old. Since tabitha is in for early to mid twenties iirc, I think I would place pearlanne somewhere in her 50s-early 60s?).

Also it's very clear tabitha did not like her mother, and calls her a monster. So like I feel like it adds up that tabitha is perfectly capable of murder and able to do it again (rip reese) but also at the same time, I have a hard time thinking she's preparing to do something terrible to mc especially if you go down routes where you have a good (or good-ish) relationships with her.

Like, for example with my main mc Mckenna (yes I chose her name cause it had mc in it) I stayed the night at Stella's, hung out with her in the mines and on day 3 but didn't invite her ghost hunting, then when I got threatened in her office on day 4 and had mckenna cry I got a couple very interesting reactions.

(Sorry for not actually having a screenshot and just a picture, my computer is weird. Also one more note, this was when a strike was strong, I'll have to check what happens when the strike is weak but I have a similar relationship with Tabitha still)

This was the interaction I got when I said "im sorry, I know I haven't been the best cousin" iirc and she falt out admits she's jealous of us.

But we can also get this dialogue instead if we ask why she invited us at all if she hated us so much

(Once again sorry for bad pic 💔)

And idk maybe I'm the fool for trusting but that line about being family, and how that still means something to her feels so geninue it makes me doubt she actually intends to harm the mc.

Plus there's other interactions you can get with Tabitha, like if you have a very good relationship with her and question if she's happy in scarlet hollow or not she'll say no, but that she's happy you're here.

And idk, I just feel like somebody who had already planned to stab us in the back from the very start wouldnt be able to open up that much and be that vulnerable with their potential victim.

Also tabitha herself states she didn't want to like us (you get this by hanging out with tabby and calling her hypocritical for giving us such a hard time for living in the city), which of course could be spinned towards the idea that tabitha is planning to backstab us but also at the same time, it's not an uncommon defense mechanism for traumatized people to push away loved ones.

Tabitha has had a very hard life- from the pressure of being one of two scarlets left, having to run a dying coal mine, and the abuse from her mother to then her sudden death (and also her mother maybe possibly killing her ex).

It's very possible alot of her standoff-ness towards the player isn't because she has some malicious scheme, but rather it's her way of coping with the shitty cards she's been dealt in life (like the idea of pushing people away so you won't be hurt if they betray or leave you. It's a toxic mentality to have as it creates a self fulfilling prophecy, but it's a mentality some people have nonetheless).

I rambled alot but those are just some of my thoughts about tabitha. It's obvious she's gonna do something weird with that goat (my first idea is a sacrifice), but I'm not entirely sure wether she intended to betray the mc or not from the beginning (I lean towards not but I can still see a situation where she didn't intend to betray the mc from the start, but does so later depending on your relationship with her).

[persephoneandherhades]

I cant emphasize this enough. IF YOU THINK AT ALL EVER THAT YOU MIGHT MAYBE HAVE SLEEP APNEA, GET TESTED.

I have been dealing with sleep issues for so many years, at least since my early teens. I legitimately thought it was just depression fucking with me. And yeah depression played its part. However as i found out several months ago, it was far from the only reason. I snore, all night and very loudly. Someone told me that if you snore really loudly you might have sleep apnea so i talked to my doctor about it. I wasnt totally convinced so we did a take home pulseox monitor test to see if my readings over night might indicate if it was possible. It was very much possible. I am now convinced so i agree to an overnight sleep study in the hospital. the whole shabang. They put electrodes or whatever all over my body and i slept. I got up, checked out. They said ur doc will be in touch with your results and sent me on my way.

In my personal experience, nothing in the medical world works quickly unless death is on the line and sometimes not even then. So i was more than a little surprised and concerned when i got a call from the sleep doctor's office affiliated with the hospital i was tested at only a few hours later. They scheduled me an appointment to come in and discuss next steps and the appointment was so soon, i knew they squeezed me in because no doctors in my area have availability that quickly. I go to the appointment and im very nervous and this very concerned woman started explaining more about sleep apnea and my results.

The average adult stops breathing 3-5 times a night. I stopped breathing 117 times in 1 HOUR.

Do you know what its like to be told you are basically fighting for your life in your sleep every night? Its TERRIFYING. This poor woman was horrified on my behalf and ordered a cpap machine for me. Unfortunately due to the supply chain issues, cpap machines had months long wait list. So when i was laid off work a month later causing me to loose my health insurance, i wasnt even close to getting a machine. So i get a new job and wait the 3 months to get insurance and start the process of finding doctors that my new insurance will cover. So now 5 months after my sleep study i am sitting in another sleep doctors office. I hand this man the papers detailing my sleep study and watch the blood drain from his face while he reads.

If you have never scared a doctor before I wouldn't recommend it.

This poor man sees that i have been waiting to get a cpap machine for 5 months and puts in the order for one. While he is putting in the order he is trying very hard to be casual while asking me questions that boil down to how the fuck do function normally? How can you drive a car without falling asleep at the wheel? I then have to admit that i have been compensating for extreme exhaustion since i was a teenager so its all very normal for me now. I thank him for his time and go about my day.

This doctor let me know that the wait for a cpap now is about 3 weeks so im already happy, like that is sooo much shorter than it was 5 months ago. He says the home health equipment office will call me when my machine comes in.

I got the call from the home health office that same day. Turns out i horrified that sleep doctor so much that he put a rush on my cpap order so i got bumped to the front of the list. I had my machine 2 days later.

I have had this thing for 3 weeks now and i cant describe how amazing i feel. I am used to waking up at least a dozen times a night, now its only once or twice. Im used to having trouble keeping my eyes open long enough to turn off my alarm clock in the morning and i am used to making myself keep moving so i dont instantly fall back asleep. Now i am awake and alert when my alarm goes off. I dont wake up already exhausted anymore. I learned early in my driving life that i have to listen to audiobooks in the car to keep my mind engaged enough to not start to fall asleep at the wheel. For the first time in years i was able to just listen to music in the car and not start nodding off. I haven't needed to take a nap after work even once.

I have been told that i might not notice changes until after the first month with the machine so i am so excited about what else might change because of this machine. I cried actual tears the other day because of it.

It has already changed my day to day life significantly. The machine is so small for the miracle it has already given me. I cant even hear it when its on. I have a fan on at night and the machine is quieter than my fan.

Getting tested is so so worth it. The benefit to your life could be so significant.

I have other things that i need to take care of for my health but taking care of this one has made it easier to work on the others.

If you think you might have it, get tested.

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

OH MY GOD I GUESSED WRONG. time to wither away i suppose...

WAIT 'DOES THE DOG DIE' IS ACTUALLY A SITE?? THATS AMAZING??

see the issue is, most kdramas have an extremely traumatic event happen in the same ep as the happy event, so we wouldn't be able to avoid it anyways......

OKAY THE ANIME IS CALLED URAMICHI ONIISAN!! THE LINK IS RIGHT HERE: https://youtu.be/0_dVPjbDZuo?si=ucDTiRRRzFh1hZOX

THANK YOU FOR AGREEING WITH ME. NO ONE UNDERSTANDS IT WHEN I SAY JOSH GIVES OFF THAT ENERGY BECAUSE HE DOES. i think its the way he talks....

omg brie that sounds horrible :( she probably doesn't hate you (but even if she did, she should communicate that to you!!). i hate it when people tell me to 'stop overthinking' but i genuinely think it's super good advice!! that being said, you're NOT crazy for being worried about your friend/what she thinks of you, so don't worry 😭😭

in my experience, yes...people just go mia and come back 'normal'.... in that case, you should totally tell her how you feel and everything so you guys can clear it up and hopefully you guys will have a deeper understanding of each other (and a deeper bond)! remember though, if it doesn't work out, don't beat yourself up over it!! some puzzle pieces are so close to fitting with each other, but you can't force them to be together, cuz then they won't find their perfect match. you got this brie!! you are NOT crazy.

OMG HAHAHA YOUR METHOD CAN ACTUALLY WORK??? CUZ YOU WILL EVENTUALLY FIND A GUY THAT LIKES BRATS...the issue is, a lot of dom guys are lowk looking for 1. someone as calm as them 2. someone spontaneous to balance them out BUT YOU MIGHT FIND THE JACKPOT IF YOU KEEP ACTING LIKE THAT?? I HAVE NO CLUE CUZ i haven't been able to find one either .........

WTF HE SAW UR BDSM TEST RESULTS??? AND THEN THERE WERE NO REPERCUSSIONS??? what kind of guys are around you brie....

no totally!! a sleep study is super helpful since i feel like sleep apnea,apthia (whatever) is seriously super harmful to you as a person cuz sleep is so important?? heres to hoping everything goes well cuz you need some rest 😭

THE THIRD TWIN IS KIND OF FUNNY ICL. VANESSA HUDGENS IS KIND OF LIKE A MAD SCIENTISTS AND I FEAR THAT IT WORKS....

no cuz ive worked at subway and i did the exact same thing... i think it's a way of bracing (?) for customer interaction and just getting into that confident customer service headspace 😭😭😭 LITERALLY DW ABOUT IT...YOU BASICALLY ARE THE MAIN CHARACTER SO YOU CAN DO IT. IT'S ALLOWED.

UMMMMMMM MY FINALS ARE DEFINITELY GOING. YEP. WHAT DIRECTION? I DONT KNOW. BUT THEY'RE GOING. THANK YOU FOR BELIEVING IN ME....i fear my math will take my grade out but i think i can squeak my way by.....

CONGRATULATIONS ON SETTING A CRYING RECORD BRIE!! THAT SOUNDS SO DEPRESSING BUT BEING MANIC AND ONLY CRYING THAT MUCH HAS TO BE A GOOD SIGN...RIGHT......

-big hugs and a lot of comforting gestures that i can't think of from 🫨 anon <3

HAHA ITS OKAY WE GUESS WRONG SOMETIMES

IT IS AN ACTUAL SITE AND IT IS A GREAT SITE AND I WILL STOP WATCHING MOVIES SOMETIMES IF I SEE THE DOG DIES

But god you’re so right… drama episodes are so long anything and everything happens in them

I WILL VISIT THE ANIME

WELL YOU KNOW WHAT 🤠🤠 I CANT SAY MY BELIEF EVERYONE IS SECRETLY MAD AT ME IS GOING AWAY BUT IT IS WHAT IT IS I GUESS I CANT BELIEVE SOMEONE BROKE UP WITH ME ON ANON I AM SO STRESSED AHAH

Well, keep me updated in your dom search because i have full on given up at this point-

OKAY IM SO GLAD YOU DID THE SAME THING AT SUBWAY CAUSE I WAS VERY STRESSED ABOUT THAT I THOUGHT I WAS A VAIN PSYCHO (i am a vain psycho but-)

OH HOW DID YOUR FINALS GO!!! TELL ME ALL ABOUT IT!!

[celeste-clearwater-06]

Hello! I was wondering if you could please write something about how the Fellowship (+ Thorin?) Would help a s/o who's Disabled and Chronically ill. Like she has a lot of symptoms like chronic pain, chronic fatigue, difficulty sleeping, difficulty breathing at times, difficulty walking at times, higher sensitivity to the cold, difficulty talking at times, and anxiety, depression and executive dysfunction?

I've been really struggling with my chronic illnesses lately, namely my Autism, Anxiety, Sleep Apnea, a really bad Overbite, Raynaud's Syndrome, Asthma, etc, so I'd really appreciate an Imagine like this. I have a really weird disorder where one of my legs is longer than the other, and it's been causing me a lot of pain and difficulty walking lately, and people have been bullying me for it a lot too, so I could really use a Comfort Imagine right now. Thanks so much hun!!

It's no problem! I'm glad I can provide some comfort!! For each character, I'll use a specific struggling area, to make it a bit easier!! I hope I got these accurate enough, and of there are any mistakes, feel free to point them out!! You are strong, beautiful and so, so amazing!! Keep being you!! ❤❤

Help (The Fellowship// Thorin x Fem!Reader)

Aragorn (Autism)

Aragorn has known you for a long time, so helping with your autism is not new for him

He's particularly experienced in reading your emotions and meeting your needs, whether it's helping you out of stressful situations or calming you down, he's there 🥺

If there are large and boisterous gatherings in Rivendell, its almost guaranteed that you can become over-stimulated quickly, and Aragorn immediately senses this (spidey senses õoõ)

He's fast to find your hand and give it a gentle squeeze of reassurance

If that doesn't seem to help, he'll instantly stop what he's doing and take you out of the room

If you're someone who prefers lots of space and little physical contact, he is 100% respectful of this and asks if you'll let him touch or hug you (very much gentleman 😌)

If ever you're confronted by someone of importance, Aragorn is right by your side to ease some of the tension

Sometimes there are things you find difficult to say or get out of your system

The king seems to know exactly what it is and will help you out by saying it or asking you simple questions that you can easily answer

And he always reminds you, no matter WHAT

YOU ARE NOT STUPID 😤😡

You may struggle with some parts of your life, but every day, he's constantly telling you that you're very intelligent and kind

His patience is unending and he'll never let you think down on yourself

Overall, Aragorn is always someone and reminding you that it's all going to be okay ❤❤

Legolas (Anxiety)

Most nights, Legolas keeps watch (since elves don't require much sleep) and notices that you jolt awake out of the random

Now, most of the Fellowship notices that you're usually awake and ready to go before anyone else

But Legolas is really the one to address you first

You were a bit nervous to explain, since you didn't want to worry him or the great of the fellowship, amount the other disadvantages you have

He gently encouraged you, and finally, you explained to him your sleep apnea

Yeah, he was very concerned

I mean, his blue eyes widened with terror when you told him that you could basically die in your sleep if you weren't attentive enough 🙃

Legolas, from now on, sleeps directly next to you, or keeps extra careful watch over you at night

Because he could NEVER see his precious mortal friend become injured... Or worse 🥺🥺❤

The other members had noticed a change in his behaviors towards you as well...

Gimli teased him whenever he caught Legolas giving you some extra lembas bread or offered to carry you 👉👈

You really tried to assure Legolas that it wasn't a big deal when you were awake, since you're aware of your breathing situation

But still 😤

Legolas will always bring you comfort and take great care of you, and that will NEVER CHANGE

Because he loves you very much ❤🦋

Frodo (Anxiety)

Frodo is familiar with the feeling of great anxiety, seeing he had a stress-free life while living in the Shire and suddenly was forced to carry a piece of jewelry all the way to giant ass volcano

It's easy for you two to comfort each other and seek refuge in thoughts and feelings ❤

He's not super comfortable with the thought of you having a panic attack though...

Only because he's never had one

It starts to give him a panic attack whenever you have one around him the first time 😳-

Any time you begin to breathe heavy or hyperventilate, halfling boy is hot at your heels, rubbing your back and reminding you to breathe gently

(So many hugs, if you're up for it)

After you calm down, he's constantly checking on you, asking if you need anything etc.

Really, he just wants to know if he can help 🥺

And even with the weight and stress of carrying the ring, Frodo manages to cheer you up somehow

Samwise (Asthma)

Sam has never had to deal with asthma once in his life

He's very nervous when the subject is brought, afraid it might trigger something inside of you 🥺👉👈

But you just chuckle, assure him that it's alright, and you have ways of keeping it under control

And now, he wants to know everything about it, just to have the awareness in case something happens

Sam just wants to protect you forever, and this was a great way for him to start

He constantly reminds Aragorn that you'll need breathing breaks and will convince Gandalf to let you ride on his horse

He'll scold Pip and Merry if they are trying to drag you around and be silly, because as he says

"You'll rouse him/her/them up! We can't have Y/N gettin injured!" 🤨😠

Sam is MOM

As always, he's very kind and always makes sure your needs are met ❤🥺

Pippin and Merry (Raynaud's Syndrome)

Very confused halfings 🤔

Also extremely concerned!

You were eating one of the lesser pleasurable nights

It was cold and rainy, and a fire couldn't be started, not to mention the quiet arguments of Aragorn and Gandalf in the nearby woods

And Pip's eyes widened when he saw the tips of your petite fingers begin to pale upon hearing Aragorn mention Orcs

"What's wrong with your hands?!" He squeaked, pointing towards your now white-colored fingertips

You hadn't even noticed, nor felt, considering they were numb anyways

Merry looked over his cousin's shoulder and his eyes also widened, not with fright, but wonder

They were both fascinated with your condition, convinced that you were casting some spell Gandalf showed you

Although you reassured them it was just an extremely frustrating inconvenience that you had, among other things

So from then on, the disastrobus duo did their best to keep you out of the cold (and stressful situations!!)

As a distraction, the pair will tell you great stories of the shire, doing little dances and skits that always cheer you up 🥴

Sometimes, they can be a little rambunctious though...

Merry will pick up on this fact quickly, and nudge Pippin to get him to calm down

Even though it may not feel the best

They find your syndrome absolutely fascinating!! 🤔🤔

All in all, these two are always up for keeping your beautiful smile on your face and your spirits high!! ❤🌺

Boromir (Depression)

Throughout the journey, Boromir has always found an easy way to make you smile

After all, he himself has a fascinating way of brightening anyone's spirits

Yours included ❤

Boromir may not have great stories from The Shire, like Pip and Merry, but he sure has a lot of positive things to say

He'll often suggest sparring with the two troublemaking halflings, just so you can see him goof up and get knocked over 🥺

If the nights become cold and weary, he'll give you a warm hug or a nudge on the shoulder

And a few words of helpful encouragement along the lines of;

"Don't fret Y/N. You have more strength than you'll ever know."

"Let our spirits never dampen! We've come this far!" 😊

He's also an incredible listener

Boromir wants to hear what you have to say if you ever need to rant or get something off of your chest

And don't think for a second that he would ever judge you 😤

Son of Gondor sees past all of your insecurities and knows you for your beautiful, amazing self ❤❤

Gimli (Walking disadvantages)

As you travel across great plains and mountains, your limp doesn't go unnoticed by Gimli

It may take him a while to open up about it, since he's afraid he might offend you in some way

And once he asks you, you inform him that it's a difficulty that unfortunately cannot be changed any time soon

And where you come from, lots of people tease and bully you about it

He did NOT handle it well 😳

"wHAT BLUBBERING DULL-MINDED PIGNUTS-" 🤬

Although this Dwarf is short and a bit slow at times

He's fascinatingly strong 😳

And so, he makes it his duty to be your designated carrier 🥺

At first, your a tad skeptical...

I mean, he's only around 4 feet tall...

BUT HAVE YOU SEEN HIM THROW THAT HUGE AX AROUND?!

Gimli will happily carry you great distances when you need a break, and even longer

(Sometimes it's just to show off around the others-)

"Gimli, are you sure you don't want a break?"

"Aye lass! The strength of Dwarves is unending!" 😌

*struggling to breathe*

11/10, fantastic dwarf, will never let you down!!

Thorin (Executive Dysfunction)

Another Dwarf??

Absolutely

Thorin himself has trouble keeping composure with his time management (and sense of direction 🙄)

This means that he'll have an undying amount of patience for you and you only

There's just something about you that he fond of, and it fills in that little sassy, brooding place in his heart

Can also relate to you whenever you grow frustrated at the setback of your journey or lack of sleep

Is 100% willing to help you find your lost belongings (and once again, ONLY YOU)

Thorin will literally make the whole traveling party stop so that you can put something in your bag and make sure that you put it somewhere you'll remember

Always happy to give you extra gentle reminders of keeping your pack closed

The company is utterly SHOCKED with how he treats you

I mean, this man has always been extremely stubborn and hard headed

But when you show up, it's another person he can easily relate and share frustrations with

Also a master at organization?!? 🤔

The one thing he could do successfully was organizing the damn journey and traveling company, so ofc he's gonna be good at that 😂

Yeah, Thorin definitely has a soft spot for you

King under the mountain will never run out of patience and kindness for you 😌💙

Sorry these took so long!! I hope you like them!! ❤❤

[beauregard-s]

Cherry Vodka [Part I] | Richie T. + Eddie K.

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader x Eddie Kaspbrak (21+)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: language, nsfw material but no explicit sex (yet), alcohol, polyamory mention, kind of a modern au too

Anon said:  “ okay so based off that art you reblogged of the richie x bev x eddie, what about like a reader x richie x eddie fluffy smut based off that (i hope that makes sense bahahha)”

A/n: Yeah, I had to split it in two parts because 7k words... I’m sorry it took me so long to post it, dear anon, if you’re still outta there. I rewrote and changed the plot of this one three times and it’s inspired by this post and by the song Sleep Apnea by Beach Fossils, by the way.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Richie…” “What, doll?” You felt his hand trailing down the small of your back, slowly and treacherously. 

You rolled your eyes from your book to meet Richie’s little smirk. He had his black wayfarers on, even though the sun was down in the horizon now, and behind those you knew his eyes have been glazing all over you. He was all careless laying on his side right next to you on the towel, unruly wind-dried curly hair, head up resting on a hand, the other free one teasing you because he just couldn’t help it when you’d put on that black high-cut swimsuit of yours. Eddie shared the curly-haired boy thoughts but, on the other hand, he laid peacefully flat on his back by your right side. Arms resting under his head, eyes closed, but here and there he’d peek at your and Richie’s constant bickering. You, laying on your stomach in between them, were still in your swimsuit from earlier. After lunch, it was Richie’s idea to go to this lake nearby by his parents' vacation house. It was also Richie’s idea to spend spring break there. Usually, your break trips would include their other friends, who ended up being your friends too over time, but that was being a harsh semester for quite everyone. With Bill and Stan stuck with their academic duties, the best idea was to drive to the Tozier’s vacation house in a small town in Pennsylvania. It was a simple, untouched, two-floor house. Richie told in the car his parents bought it when he was a teenager so they could travel and spend some time there, but ended up not doing that as much as they intended on once it was too far from his city. “For fuck’s sake, Richie!” Laughing was not what you intended, but you did it and you heard Eddie giggling behind you. Richie’s hand had finally made its way to your hips now, while he leaned closer. “Come on, toots. Just one kiss…” He whispered in his best charming tone, but you pushed him away, playing cool although you felt your cheeks burning, the known hots already hitting you like a truck. “No! Fuck off… I already told you we should stop doing this,” you muttered. “You always say that,” it was Eddie who reasoned, and you turned for him, eyes threatening him with no words while he shrugged. “Yeah, and I’m sticking to it,” you retorted. Indeed. It had been over a month since you last… Did what you did. “Plus I think Stan has been suspicious…” Richie snorted, “yeah, like lil old he would give a single fuck about it, y/n.” You breathed out, closing the book because now your concentration was ruined. Richie, Eddie, and you met at the creative writing class, 8 am on Tuesdays, your first semester of college. You remembered as it was today how you found them “lost” less than 10 feet away from the lecture hall but arguing like an old couple without realizing that. You helped them find the right way, and Richie flirted with you as you walked into the class, while Eddie scoffed at him for making them get lost and almost late. You knew those boys had been friends their entire life, but from that moment on the three of you became inseparable. If someone needed to find one of you on the campus, the other two would probably be found at the same place. The pureness of your friendship didn’t last long. It only lasted until the first party you went to together, when you lost to Richie at a snooker game and he claimed a kiss as his prize, the smooth motherfucker he was. You kissed him and only that, but ten minutes later you were making out in the bathroom. You made him swear he wouldn’t make things complicated between you two and he had been keeping his promise ever since. Eddie was a whole out of the curve story though. After what happened at said party, you noticed how fidgety he got about the matter of you and Richie been together once, although he did a great job hiding it. Took a while for him to leave it alone, but you didn’t. Something pestering inside wouldn’t let you. You were at his dorm, studying for a complicated final exam while the sky fell apart in rain outside when you asked him why he got upset. He denied to his death he had jealousy of you and Richie running through his veins, but you knew he was lying when his eyes started to avoid yours, saying ‘Richie’s a better ladies' man, anyway’. You shoot your shot without really thinking about it, told him ‘he was just as desirable as Richie’ and it seemed to light a spark between you two. You were the one who leaned closer but he closed the gap, nervously, pulling you into his lap as soon as you kissed him back, building up his confidence. Just like when Richie and you had your thing, you felt no need to hide from him what happened between you and Eddie. It was an embarrassing talk, but it worked. The three of you quickly and naturally warmed up to the facts: you were friends with benefits with both of them and there was nothing complicated about that for you. But you wanted to keep it low because casually making out with your best friends regularly here and there over time whenever you all desired to was none of people business. Eddie rolled over to lay on his stomach, just like you were, shoulder to shoulder. After a couple days constantly under the sun, you noticed he had more freckles than usual over his nose and cheeks, a few on his shoulders. “You’re being more uptight about it all than me, and everyone knows that being more uptight than me is a big deal...” His self depreciative statement made you flash a half-smile, but didn't stop you from leering at his soft lips because you remembered how he tasted like mint whenever you’d kiss. And it had been a long time since you did for the last time. “I’m just being cautious, Spagheddie.” He smiled at the silly nickname, just when you freed yourself from Richie’s grip, grabbed your book and got up, leaving them on the grass while you walked towards the backdoor. “Where ya’ goin’?” Richie called, but you didn’t look back. “Taking a shower!” You shouted. ‘I fucking need to cool down,’ you thought to yourself. In your silly head, about a year ago, this whole situation was a great idea. Now you found yourself utterly screwed. There was pining going on since the very first beginning in between you and them. You always knew it was there, you just didn’t expect it to escalate like it did. You thought once you had tasted from Richie and Eddie, you’d be done. Checked them out of your possibilities, life goes on, but now you were bonded to them in a way you never intended on. You fell for them. For both of them. And that was making you act up. Since your high school years you understood you were an afraid-of-commitment kind of person. No big deal, no attachments, no pain, so you weren’t ready to fall for a single person alone. Falling for two at the same time made your brain short circuit. You had debated the matter with yourself multiple times before. Since you became aware of it happening, you weren’t able to choose between them, you didn’t even know someone was capable of splitting their feelings like that. Your only solution was to stop it somehow. You couldn’t just leave them completely, so you decided to break the colorful side of that mess of a friendship. It wasn’t easy because it was not just about physical bonds. They were everywhere around you. Eddie would buy you coffee on the test mornings he knew you were tired after studying the whole night and hand it to you kissing your forehead. Richie would always hold your hand, keep you close and protect you somehow, doing that thing where he’d distractedly run his thumb over your knuckles. You knew that maybe you were not just an arousal let-out for them too and that made things even worse. You ruminated the facts the whole time you were under the cold water upstairs, and when you came down later, all damp hair and sleep clothes, you found them both in the kitchen, struggling with dinner although it was just frozen lasagna for three. Beach Fossils played from Richie’s phone, open vodka bottle on the wood table in the middle of the small kitchen. Richie was the one who first noticed you there, smiling over his shoulder. “Gonna leave you watching Eds so he doesn’t implode the house while I take a shower, doll. Help the poor man.” he said, walking past by you and running upstairs. “You’re talking like you weren’t the one struggling to turn on the oven!” Eddie shouted at him. You laughed just like Richie did at distance, joining Eddie by the stove. “Do you want a hand there?” “Never mind,” he said, closing the oven door with a proud grin, “it will be ready in twenty, I guess.” “Talented boys you two are!” you scoffed. “Oh shut up!” He faked a disgusted face at you. Your eyes laid over the cherries you bought the day you arrived, placed in a fruit basket on the counter and, while Eddie sat down at the table you grabbed a glass, the vodka, and a handful of cherries. He didn’t ask you what you were doing, but your peripheral sight allowed you to know he was keeping full attention on you while you fumbled around. You mashed the fruits in the glass until they were a reddish pasta, collecting the seeds and pouring alcohol over what lasted in there. As you swayed everything together, you remembered drinking it once, but not quite where was it. You gulped it turning around to finally face Eddie, and he was splayed in a chair, a ghost of a smile on. “The hell you doin’?” he asked lowly and you shrugged. “I don’t know… But it worked.” He raised his brows, getting up and walking towards you. “Yeah? Is it good?” You hummed in response, feeling it burn down your throat. In the deep of your mind, watching Eddie coming closer and closer, you knew what was about to happen, but you didn’t act fast enough against it. “Let me taste it” And he did. Not from the cup but straight from your lips. Eddie leaned in and kissed you softly, an arm around your waist while his free hand went for the back of your neck. And you ease in melting into him was embarrassing, leaving the cup onto the sink as soon as he pressed you against it before the glass ended up shattered on the floor. His tongue slid over yours, hands going to grab your hips, lifting your shirt a bit in the process. You instantly wished he took it off, already built up after spending that time alone in the middle of nowhere and with that aching tension all over the place. You had sex with Richie twice already over time, one of them a bit drunkenly, the other completely sober and thirsty for it, but you had never done it with Eddie. And you wanted it bad. Been wanting for a long time now, since that fucking rainy day in his dorm. But you knew you couldn’t, not when you shouldn’t even be kissing him like that after managing to stick up to your chastity for over a month now. So your hands palmed his chest and gently pulled him away. “Holy fuck…” Richie’s whispered voice made both you and Eddie startle. He was right there, at the kitchen entrance with a towel around his waist, mouth agape looking at both of you and you had no idea of how much time was standing there now. But he for sure saw shit happening. “That was the fucking fastest shower ever,” Eddie said, so casually it disturbed you. “N-no… I just came back to grab my phone.” Richie muttered. You froze, having no idea of how to move or what to say now. Yes, they were pretty aware you messed around with both of them, but one never saw the other in the act. Never, nor even a peck, and now Richie just witnessed a goddamn show. You were ready to tell him how you were sorry because you had just denied him a kiss when you were sunbathing outside and you have been constantly denying him for weeks now, but he didn’t give you the chance. Richie grabbed his phone over the table and stopped the music. You had the hint that maybe he wasn’t upset once he had that little mischievous smirk of his while he made his way out of there and upstairs again. Of course you didn’t talk about the matter over dinner, but Richie acted like nothing happened and Eddie just followed the lead completely unbothered. You tried to go on as naturally as they did, but something about Richie’s furtive looks over you made you think he was definitely not cool about catching you and Eddie together in the kitchen. You just couldn’t tell if either he was jealous or whatever was that and it pinched you from the inside the rest of the night while you watched old TV shows reprising until it was past one in the morning. That was when Eddie started yawning and decided to go upstairs, to the room that’d be Richie’s formerly, kissing your forehead and smiling nonchalantly before shoving Richie’s shoulder. So it was Richie, you and silence in the living room lighten up by TV flashes here and there. He was already sleepy, laying on the couch he had been sleeping since he insisted on leaving his parents’ bedroom for you, claiming he'd be a terrible host if he had you or Eddie without a bed. You, curled in the armchair, hated unsolved matters and worse than that, you hated when said unsolved matters had to do with Richie because you knew how he internalized everything he felt if it was slightly messed up. So you went straight to the point to avoid any evasions from him. “Did you get jealous of me and Eddie?” You asked right away, eyeing at him from your safe place. He looked at you, dead in the eye, no single sign of emotion perpassing his face. “Not at all, sweet thing,” he said, shrugging. “Why would I be?” You didn’t explain it, because you knew he knew where you were trying to get at, so your raised eyebrow was enough. But Richie raised his back and you had to get up because the lack of words from him, the one who’d never shut up, was bothering you beyond belief. You walked over the couch, passing a leg over his, straddling the Tozier boy for his slight astonishment, his reddish lips curving in a half-smile. Richie also had freckles, darker and more numerous ones than Eddie’s, all over his nose and cheeks, some across the rest of his face and none on the rest of his body. When he sat up with you still in his lap, you could smell that cologne you didn’t know exactly which was, but that you loved. Loved how its scent would stay ghostly on your clothes after you made out in his truck like a mark of his, just like the hickeys he’d give you sometimes, on hidden places so only you could see them. “Don’t fucking play dumb with me,” you whispered now, “I’m sorry, okay?” Richie snorted. “I’m not lying to you, y/n/n. I’m definitely not mad at you nor at Eddie. You’re making up things in your pretty head, doll” His hands drifted up your thighs. “I miss you, that's true. But it doesn’t make me jealous of that hell of a scene I saw earlier.” You noticed how he swallowed dry. “So you trying to convince me you’re not utterly disgusted and hurt?” Richie snorted once more at your tease and the light air of his relieving a lot of pressure from your chest. “Far from that, y/n/n...” The way his voice slowed down and his eyes drifted away from yours to his restless fingers on your skin...You finally understood where the problem laid on. And you wouldn’t even need the light pink shade of his cheeks to assure that. “Oh God, you liked it…” You whispered in disbelief and Richie laughed, hands on your hips now, pulling you closer. “What if I did, doll?” He didn’t let you answer, lips on yours before you recovered from your shock. He kissed slowly and passionately, it was always like that, kisses that after a few seconds already got you wanting to rip his clothes off. He was warm against you, bare chest pressed against still clothed yours. As earlier with the Kaspbrak boy, you had the urge of pulling away from him for your own sake, but you couldn’t this time. Richie peppered kisses all the way from your mouth to your jawline, kissing the spot that got your underwear ruined every time, earning himself a low whimper from your lips. You felt dizzy. “Eds is my best friend, toots,” he whispered against your skin, “there’s no one I’d be more glad to let spend time with you, touch you...” His hands ran up your sides underneath your shirt and your nails dig into his shoulders. “Kiss you.” He sucked a hickey on the crook of your neck that finally had you moaning out loud. “Richie-” His name. You could feel him smiling at that. “Or have you.” “For fuck’s sake, Richie…” You knew how to read in between his lines and in his darkened eyes when he pulled away to look into yours, glasses off. You knew he couldn’t see you quite well, but you could see him. If Richie was implying what you thought he was… “I told you I’d never lie to you, and I’m sticking to it.” Richie didn’t smile this time. “And believe me when I say I wish Eddie had taken you right on that counter.” You were the one dry swallowing now, thoughts running a mile a second. “For you to watch?” You scoffed, trying to hide how flustered you were. Richie remained serious when he laid down again. His moves underneath you let you feel him hardened under you. “No. I’d for sure join.” You read him again, tried to find whatever proved you he was just teasing. But he wasn’t. And that left you speechless, made him smile, tapping your hips gently. “But go to bed, toots. We can talk about it any other day. When you're ready and the cat doesn’t get your tongue.”

[silentauroriamthereal]

hi! this is about the metabolic health post. hacking my metabolism is just what I'm trying to do. I'm a biology student so I have some notions about how the human body works but I would be very interested in learning more about it. are there any authors or books/publications you could recommend? it doesn't have to be just English, I also speak Spanish, German and French and as a live in Spain it might be useful to read European authors whose work is based on our local food culture. american authors are fine too though! the basics should be the same anyways. thanks!

Hey! So actually, the doctor whose methodology I follow is a Chinese Canadian, if that works for you! He’s a nephrologist who sort of accidentally became an expert in obesity and type 2 diabetes, since they so often go with kidney disease. His name is Jason Fung and he’s based in Toronto. He has several books now, but the first and best place to start is The Obesity Code. Basically he started by asking a question that the medical community didn’t have an answer for: why anyone would treat type 2 diabetes, wherein the body has become resistant to the effects of insulin, by prescribing more insulin and making the resistance problem progressively worse and worse. Insulin’s job is to take eaten energy (aka food) and convert it into blood glucose. If there’s already too much glucose in the blood cells, or the insulin has lost its effectiveness because there’s already too much of it, it won’t be able to perform the conversion and will be forced to store the food as fat (aka long-term energy storage rather than immediate-use energy) instead. So then type 2 diabetics typically already have a massive insulin resistance problem which has almost always already led to obesity and all of the related health problems/co-morbidities (hypertension, PCOS, heart disease, sleep apnea, asthma, plus all the other things like sore joints and generally lower body function, etc). To “treat” this by giving them MORE insulin and making all of these problems worse, is... not a great solution. Type 2 diabetics get told that their condition is progressive and irreversible. Dr. Fung basically said, “but what if we don’t treat an excess of insulin with more insulin?” and people scoffed at that completely. Metabolic problems aren’t a result of “calorie” imbalance, which is a meaningless way of measuring food and its effects on a body - metabolic problems are the result of hormone imbalance. 

When insulin is too high, it produces more of a hormone called ghrelin, which produces the sensation of hunger. Note that ghrelin can make you feel hungry regardless of how empty or full you are. It’s a signal that says “feed me”, whether or not you need to be fed. It’s that gnawing, irritating sensation of your stomach complaining about how it hasn’t been fed in 12 years, like a petulant cat. High insulin also suppresses a hormone called leptin, which regulates how satisfied or full we feel after eating. So in summation, if your insulin is too high, you’re: 1) not getting the ready energy you need, because your eaten energy is being stored as fat instead of glucose, 2) you’re hungry all the time, and 3) you’re not feeling satisfied when you do eat. It’s a lose-lose situation. A person with insulin resistance has low energy, so doing anything takes a lot more work than it would for another person. It’s easy for another person to say “just go for a walk!” or “I always feel so much more energized when I work out!”, without having any clue that it simply takes a LOT more energy for a person who is insulin resistant to do anything in the first place. Going through life in this condition costs a person more energy, period. AND then you can add the stigma of being overweight, the added cost of buying larger clothes, the fact that refined carbs are cheaper and poorer in nutrition in the first place (there’s a reason why poverty and obesity are STRONGLY linked!), that sugars (which includes anything that metabolizes as a sugar, aka all carbs, refined and unrefined) are an addictive substance (a 2019 study posited that sugar is actually more addictive than cocaine and heroin), etc etc. It’s REALLY hard to get out of the trap. 

But it’s possible, and Dr. Fung’s entire strategy is to control metabolic problems through how you eat, aka by eating fewer foods than produce a high insulin response. It seems almost too simple to work. It was my own GP who put me onto his work, back in late 2017. He said then that five years earlier, the medical community thought that Jason Fung was a nut for thinking you could control diabetes through diet alone (aka food, not “being on a diet”, which I reject wholesale), but five years later, he had all the clinical evidence, having reversed diabetes and obesity and all the assorted, related issues, in thousands of people. My GP had just come back from a conference on obesity and type 2 diabetes where Jason Fung had been the keynote speaker. I’m the sort of person who needs to know why something works, not just that it does, and my doctor knows that, so he suggested I read The Obesity Code and see if it resonated with me, and it did. Dr. Fung is also big into fasting, both intermittent and extended, and talks a lot about that, too. It’s the other, big prong in terms of allowing insulin levels to die down and eventually reprogram the hypothalamus, which is what regulates how much insulin is being produced in the first place, to reset itself. It’s hugely effective. I used to be one of the moderators for Jason’s facebook group and I’ve seen literally thousands of people’s journeys over the past three years now, obviously not from an up-close medical perspective, but yeah - it works. I get a full blood panel done every so often and I can easily say that I’m in better health now that I’ve been in since literal childhood, because I managed to fix my hormone imbalance. Dr. Fung also has heaps of youtube videos and such, which I’m just mentioning for anyone reading this who might not be a biology student and want something shorter/more accessible, but I will say that his writing is very accessible to the general public. You don’t need a medical degree to get what he’s talking about, at all! 

This is super long, but hit me up if you have more questions about any of it! (That goes for anyone reading this!)

[sickcyclist]

This is the story of my day. It actually starts yesterday, when a heaven-sent rain swept in and cleared the smoke and cooled the air and tamped down the dust on the trails. I went on a bike ride because days like that are a gift. I have exercise-induced hypoxemia, which basically means that my oxygen drops when I exercise for reasons that we still don’t understand. Exercising with oxygen helps, but I still drop into the mid-80s. I knew I was too sick to ride and that doing so would make me much more sick, but I needed it for my mind so I was willing to sacrifice my body.

So that’s the first lesson of being sick. Everyone tells you that you have to be active and it will make things better and all you have to do is just push yourself hard enough. We’ve internalized this message to the point that many people believe sick people could get better if they just PUSHED. But that’s not always true. Sometimes pushing makes you worse. Sometimes it makes you much, much worse. And that can be true even if being active and pushing hard is something you love so much that it feels like it’s core to who you are.

I knew I would have to sleep for 12+ hours to make up for the ride, and I knew that I would have bad oxygen saturation stats because of it. And since I don’t have a real job, it should be easy to just take a lazy day (or week, or month) and get better, right? But actually I do have a real job and that job is to keep myself alive. It’s the job of a lot of us who are chronically ill, and it’s not a profession I would recommend. It’s not fun and it’s not rewarding and no one admires you for it and you’re not asked to speak to 5th graders on career day and you rarely get to move on to a newer, more interesting project.

Here’s what this particular day at work looked like for me. I woke up to a voicemail saying that my pulmonology appointment for Friday had been cancelled. I’ve been waiting to see a pulmonologist since March and was supposed to have an appointment weeks ago, but that was cancelled because the doctor quit two days beforehand. The other doctor in town couldn’t see me until the end of October, so I looked for a doctor in a bigger town hundreds of miles away. She comes highly recommended and in a way I’m happy because I strongly prefer female doctors, but for whatever reason she had to “clear her morning.” My new appointment is five weeks from now. I got off the phone and sobbed, which is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work. I probably could have toughed it up and avoided crying if I hadn’t worn myself down so much biking yesterday, but such is life.

I emailed my primary care provider asking for a note saying I could travel with my portable oxygen concentrator. I was supposed to get this letter from my pulmonologist, but now I won’t have a pulmonologist before I travel. The letter has to say that I use oxygen for sleep and activity, but it also has to specify that I won’t use oxygen on the plane. Which is a little funny because airplanes have extremely powerful oxygen-producing systems for emergencies, but they don’t like people who need oxygen because they don’t like the risk that comes with having sick people on board (think emergency landings). So people who need oxygen all the time need their own oxygen concentrator and battery power for the equivalent of 1.5x the time they will be in the air. I’m going on an 8-hour flight and it would cost about $400 to get strong enough batteries for that length. So I need them to let me carry my machine, which has lithium ion batteries that are otherwise prohibited. But in order to carry my machine I need to prove that I won’t be needing it.

I have a great primary care provider. I knew she would write the note. Easy peasy.

My next voicemail was from the specialty pharmacy that my insurance provider uses for certain drugs. I am allergic to a hormone all women produce as part of the menstrual cycle. This allergy is so severe that it has been responsible for 5 miscarriages, and it also means that I’m more miserable than usual for half the month. The good news is that all you have to do to stop it is take out your ovaries, but when you do that you go into full menopause. Which is not desirable because it increases your risk of cancer and osteoporosis and just overall mortality. Like not even from one thing. Just people who go into menopause early die early from all causes and we don’t know why.

That gives you some perspective on what the benefits have to look like in order for the cost-benefit analysis to still auger in favor of ovary removal. But since it is such a serious choice, you have to be sure. And the way you make sure is to stop your ovaries from working with a drug. The drug has hideous short and long term side effects, so if you feel better while taking it, that’s a pretty strong sign that an oophorectomy is the choice for you.

Approval for me to receive this particular drug was in limbo because the provider accidentally entered the wrong diagnosis. I have, as you can imagine, a lot of diagnoses. Entering the wrong diagnosis in this case was particularly funny because I’ve spent the last 6 months fighting with Blue Cross to get an expensive medicine that helps with my allergies. This medicine (Xolair) is approved for chronic urticaria (hives). It is not approved for progesterone hypersensitivity. I have both, which means I itch a lot for two weeks of the month and itch so much that I want to peel my skin off for two weeks of the month. Blue Cross argued that I wanted the drug for progesterone hypersensitivity. No medical provider said that, but it was the diagnosis they could use to deny the drug. Xolair costs $4000 a month. At that price it’s worth it to them to grind people down and hope they give up. It took four appeals and my lawyer (husband) to get the drug approved because I do indeed have chronic urticaria. It’s worked wonders for me, especially being allergic to the sun. You have no idea how easy it is to descend into madness when you are itchy all the time.

I went over all this with my new OB. I explained that, while the allergy shot solved the itching, it didn’t fix any of my systemic problems, which is why I was still interested in removing my ovaries. And because the conversation focused on how this ovary-suppressing drug (Lupron) specifically wasn’t for urticaria, it’s perhaps not surprising that she accidentally listed urticaria as the reason for the prescription. It’s like when you’re afraid you’ll mispronounce someone’s name. You tell yourself, “Say Kee-a, not Ky-a,” so many times that you’re basically guaranteed to call the person Ky-a.

So my ovary medicine was denied, of course, but I contacted my doctor’s office last week explaining the problem and they were very quick to apologize and resubmit. I returned the call from the specialty pharmacy but apparently they had just wanted to let me know that they were sorry for the delay. It was very polite of them but maybe didn’t require a phone call.

Then I got an email from Blue Cross Blue Shield. I logged in to read that coverage had again been denied (no reason stated) and that if I wanted to appeal the decision I would have to appeal through their specialty pharmacy. They gave me the name and number. Of a different specialty pharmacy than the one I had been dealing with for the past month. The one that I had already wrangled account numbers and diagnosis codes and special customer service phone lines out of. I typed up a polite response inquiring why I need to change pharmacies. And then I cried, but only just a little this time.

Then I called Walgreen’s because my medication for muscle spasms had been delayed and I received a note saying the pharmacist needed to speak to me. I am hypermobile so my connective tissue is just a little too bendy. My joints slip in and out all the time and my muscles have to overwork to hold my body together. Frequently they overwork so much that they lock up. This happens much more frequently in the progesterone-dominant phase of my cycle. Physical therapy is the best treatment, but sometimes I need muscles relaxants before I can even start physical therapy.

The man I spoke to at Walgreen’s told me I didn’t have a prescription for that drug. Then he told me I had a prescription but it had expired in March of 2020. I knew that wasn’t true because I hadn’t used it for years but had to start again when I got COVID. So I had no prescription in March of 2020 but I definitely did in March of 2021. No big deal. Just a simple computer error. Totally understandable in a pandemic, and I knew my doctor would refill it anyway. But he apparently felt that it was a big deal and wouldn’t submit the refill to my provider. I have no idea why. Maybe he thought I was engaged in drug-seeking behavior. Or maybe he was having a bad day. But he wouldn’t submit the refill. I hung up the phone and screamed. Loudly. Which really is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work.

Murry came up and rubbed the spasm out of my shoulder and listened to me vent and offered to be my medical power of attorney so he could deal with these people for me. But he’s the one with the real job that earns real money and when I’m sick he also cooks and cleans and does the shopping and walks the dogs. I may not be any good at the shitty job I had, but there’s no way I’m going to make him do it.

I switched tactics and chatted with someone through the Walgreen’s app. He was lovely and had no problem submitting my prescription for a refill. Easy peasy.

My final task for the day was calling to find out about the status of my CPAP prescription. I don’t have sleep apnea but while I’m asleep my breathing does slow down significantly enough that my oxygen drops (hypopnea). I need a special CPAP that adjust the pressure to my breathing, but it will get me off of oxygen at night. I’m very excited for it.

My insurance does not require prior authorization for CPAP prescriptions. However, St. Pete’s has its own prior authorization department that I guess makes sure you are not lying about not needing prior authorization? This department is, apparently, understaffed. I called my oxygen “rep” to find out how it was going. She very kindly bypassed the prior authorization department and called Blue Cross directly. Blue Cross informed her, as had I, that a prior authorization was not necessary. She could officially get me a CPAP.

Except that there is a national CPAP shortage. So she will try her best to get me one as soon as they get more. Hopefully this month. Even the rare, wonderful people who try to help you are sometimes as helpless as you.

I didn’t cry this time. Crying doesn’t fix anything and I can’t risk losing more oxygen. So I turned to writing therapy instead.

This was a bad day at work, but there are rarely good ones. It sucks to be sick, but I’m smart, articulate, overly educated, wealthy, and white. It could suck so, so much more. Someday I’ll turn all of this knowledge that I never wanted into something that helps people other than myself. Until then maybe someone will read this and know they are not alone. If being sick is your job, I see you. I would give you a hug—or a bonus!—if I could.

[angst-king]

1-10

(This is a fanfiction for Haikyuu, Tendou is handicapped and uses a wheelchair to get around the school. He is able to walk and run but only for short period of time so he uses a wheel chair for most situations except for sports. I have this exact disability so yes this is real)

Tendou wasn’t himself today, he was quieter and seemed to be a little preoccupied but still focused. Tendou hoped no one would notice or question him, he was already on edge and anxious. He was in a lot of pain, he was having a bad day and his body was gonna make sure he knew it. He knew he was having a bad day when he woke up three hours before he usually did for school and couldn’t feel his legs. He couldn’t move on his own and practically dragged his body with only his upper body strength. By the time he had to get up for school it felt as if his entire lower body was on fire. He was sensitive and couldn’t even let his toes touch the carpet without shuddering, but. He had practice and he didn’t wanna miss it. Besides it was only a seven out of ten level pain he could get through it. He wanted to prove that he was a worthy teammate who didn’t flake out because of a bit of pain. Yeah it was only a bit, he could handle this, Satori had had much worse than this right? Well he had but he would come to regret not staying home.

Putting on his knee braces, then his ankle braces made it a little better. At least he could somewhat stand without the urge to crawl back into bed. He got ready for school even if it was a grueling task. His gym bag was packed and so was his bookbag, he hardly had the energy to eat, or make anything to eat so he just grabbed a protein shake and made his way to school.

It wasn’t a long way there but with his body feeling like it would give out on him, it felt as if it took ages to get to school. He had his gloves on which was good or else his fingers would be in just as much his lower body. HIs legs felt as if he had no control. He got to the gym and tried to act as if things were normal, trying to keep himself focused, stifling cries of pain. Each jump was agony, each turn and squat made him want to sob. Teeth clenched as he forced himself silent, not trusting his mouth to let out words. He knew that he was reaching his hard limits but he had school! And it was only an seven out of ten still maybe even an eight. He could do it right? He didn’t need to worry anyone over something he could handle right?

Classes went by, thankfully the elevator was working but his body wasn’t. He wanted to go back to bed and sleep this away, he wanted to be with Ushijima but. He always helped him, he always pushed the red head around if he got too tired to do it himself or get things for him if he couldn’t reach. Or push him to do better and better each practice. Ushijima was his boyfriend and his caregiver in multiple ways and Tendou loved and appreciated it but he felt bad sometimes. He felt as if he was being dependent on Ushijima. Using him for things, or not showing how capable he could be. Even on days he needed Ushijima the most he kept that to himself. Today was one of those days. If you asked him right now, on a scale of 1-10 how much pain was he in he’d say either 6-8.5. He didn’t like being vulnerable, vulnerable people are taken advantage of and he hated it, they were also looked down upon and he despised that. 

Wakatoshi noticed his lover’s slightly strange behavior. He knew the other was always in pain but had never witnessed his bad days. Only his meh days, his good days, and his I can do it ones. His bad or horrible days were usually kept out of view from others and rarely happened at school. He felt for the red head, he was truly one of the strongest people he’d ever met. Heck Tendou never complained about the pain he was in even if it were to get bad he never once said “I can’t do this” or “its too much” or just quit. He’d watched the guest monster bruise up his body which he knew wasn’t gonna be good for him in the long run but. Knew this was his only place he felt free of his handicap. He knew this was where he could truly prove himself and feel like he could be a part of something. Wakatoshi commenced Tendou for his drive to become stronger though. He sometimes wished he weren’t so stubborn and would listen to his body more. Take breaks, stretch longer than the others, tell them when it was too much instead of putting himself through hell. He had a feeling that Tendou wasn’t doing so well, he noticed the small movements, twitches, jerks, and sounds he made. He noticed the fidgeting, the weakness, and sluggishness in his moves on the court which Tendou did a good job of covering up He didn’t know how much longer he could take, his body was starting to shake, he could hardly hold himself up. The pain would migrate from his knees and down, up to just his hips, then his back and then become a dominating feeling from his lower back to the tips of his toes. It made him very fidgety and scared, it was sudden and exhausting for him, he was feeling drained it his shoulders and arms were already sore from the practice the day before. It got the point that he couldn’t hold a pencil. He was in math class when he picked up his pencil with a shaky hand but he couldn’t hold it still enough to write then. Sharp pains ripped through him up his back, each breath pain interrupted his thoughts. He couldn’t breath if it brought him pain so he held his breath but. His involuntary apnea forced him to inhale which made him cry out as his entire body felt like it had been struck by lightning. This was noticed by Wakatoshi who was only a few feet away. He eyes him curiously then he sees his shaking become more and more visible that it frightened him. He got out of his seat and called Tendou's name. “Tendou! Tendou can you hear me?!” Tendou nods quietly, tears welling up in his eyes, the class’s attention is brought to them. Tendou couldn’t stop shaking, his body had tensed up and he wasn’t breathing in normal patterns, inhaling and holding his breath to minimize those lightning pains but they had him gasping which made him cry out. “Gagh!” His eyes rolled back and his body jerked forwards almost hitting his desk which Ushijima stopped just in time holding him up, the teacher asked. “Is everything alright over there?” Ushijima didn’t know how to answer “I think something’s wrong with him.” Was all he could reply, while looking worriedly at Tendou. Whimpering and gasping Tendou was crying as the teacher came over. “Oh goodness, Tendou kiddo, can you answer me?” Tendou could hardly move let alone answer “Lets get him to the nurse’s office, I don’t know what’s going on but maybe she can help?” Ushijima nods and grabs Tendou’s bookbag off of his chair then wheeling his boyfriend out of the classroom with the teacher following in toe. The nurse had no idea on what to do with Tendou but let him lay down in a cot she had. This saddened Ushijima to see Tendou like this but he was able to breathe by the time he was laying down. “Hey Ten, you okay...can you tell me what hurts?” “m-my legs k-kinda hurt” Tendou lied, he didn’t want to make Ushijima stay with him, the taller boy had much more important things to do than worry about him. Ushijima shook his head and he could tell Tendou was trying to be brave. “Ten I need you to be honest please.” But the crimson haired male just shook his head. “I’ll be back with my book bag, I’m gonna take you home.” Wakatoshi knew how much more comfortable Satori was in his own home so he knew this method would work better. Tendou was feeling small and when Wakatoshi asked him all of those questions he felt smaller, like a little kid. Which in some circumstances was good, Tendou was an age regressor and it allowed him to be vulnerable in front of people so this would help Wakatoshi assess Tendou better.

Blushing Tendou frantically tries to decline “N-no Ushijima, please you don’t have to.” He was stuttering and wincing that didn’t prove his protest to be valid at all. Ushijima gave Tendou a kiss on his forehead and said  “But I want to” then he headed back to his classroom, the teacher wrote out an excuse for the two by the time Ushijima had come back. Bookbag on his back, he helps Tendou into his wheelchair and puts Tendou’s bag on the back of his chair. “You ready Ten?” Ushijima asked, earning a quiet nod, so the taller teen wheeled him out of the nurse’s office and soon out of the school. Ushijima could tell Tendou didn’t feel good, he could see the pain in the way he tried to curl up in the chair or the way he bit his lip and clenched down his facial features. All he could do was remind him that it was gonna be okay. Arriving at Tendou’s place he pushed his boyfriend up his ramp and helped him inside. “How about we change into some comfier clothes okay?” Suggested Ushijima Tendou nods shyly knowing he is gonna have to be carried up the stairs. Each loving gesture the team captain made towards Tendou made him feel so close to slipping into little space but. He didn’t want to be a burden and put more responsibilities on him. Even if Ushijima had taken care of Tendou both in and out of little space, he still felt bad about it sometimes. “Arms up babe” He says so Tendou obeys, raising his arms up, Ushijima carrying Satori bridal style to his room. Setting him down on the bed, Ushijima went through Satori’s closet when he heard a soft voice. “u-um...Ushiji?” Ushijima turned to look at Satori who was playing with the hem of his school uniform shirt. “Yes?” “I-i feel little.” He started bashfully with a blush tinting his cheeks a light pink. Wakatoshi gave a small grin and nodded “Alright then, wanna put on your comfy lil boy clothes?” Tendou nods at this question so while going through Satori’s closet he found a sweater that was colored by the colors of the ocean zones. It ranged from the sunlight zone all the way down to the twilight zone that had lil sparks of whites,blues and greens to represent the bioluminescent creatures that lived down there. Then he found some light cream colored soft comfortable shorts. He then helps Tendou who tried to undress himself but it hurts so he lets his daddy do it for him. Once dressed, Wakatoshi adjusts the straps of the stabilizing braces Tendou wore around his ankles and knees. Wakatoshi changed out of his school clothes into a sweatshirt and jeans. He always had some spare clothes at Satori’s place in case he needed to stay with him last minute. Dressed, Ushijima went into Tendou’s box of lil space items, finding his book bag and extra things. He put the bag on the bed and gave Tendou his blanket just like the sweater it was all of the zones of the ocean. Going through his bag Tendou grabbed his blue paci as Ushijima grabbed the stuffies they got each other for their first date. Tendou had an orca and Ushijima had a Manatee. The taller teen crawled onto the bed and brought Tendou close to him. “Lil one, I need you to be honest, on a scale of 1-10 how much pain are you in?” Tendou had been a little distracted but he knew what he’d been feeling all day and couldn’t lie. “Ei-eight.” “Alright baby, good job being honestly. I’m sorry it hurts so much, I know i can’t really do much about it but I’m still here if you need anything.” Nodding quietly he gets comfortable with his lover.Ushijima knew he couldn’t put his baby boy to sleep but he could keep him as relaxed as possible but. He knew it would be hard knowing at any moment his pain levels could go from an eight to a ten. 

So distracting him with his phone, letting the little watch videos for a while would help.It had been a while and Ushijima needed to charge his phone so he started to get up shifting Tendou off gently then he felt Tendou hold onto him. “Hm baby I’m not going anywhere just gonna plug my phone in. I’ll use your laptop so we can watch videos o-” Then he hears soft sniffling, he looks down to see Tendou in tears, his hands balled up clutching Ushijima’s shirt as he shook. “Sator?” A sudden gasp came and a whimper came out. Burying his face into Wakatoshi’s chest, Tendou cried out “Ten! Ten!” At first he had no clue why the regressor was saying ‘Ten’ like this until he felt him tense and let out a choked out gasp. Eyes filled with worry Ushijima sits up and gets off the bed holding Tendou but more in a toddler hold. “Shhh shhh it's okay baby, I know it hurts I’m sorry.” He quickly tries to sooth him but he knows it's useless. “What hurts is it your back?” Tendou shakes his head”M-my legs!” Wakatoshi begins to walk around the room holding Tendou while rubbing his back to try and sooth him. “I’m sorry baby boy, just hang in there.” Crying into Wakatoshi’s shoulder, Satori is shaking hard from the pain, scaring him by its suddenness. “S-so scarwy, pw-pwease make it stop daddy!”Pain like this always made Tendou’s anxiety spike especially as a little, he didn’t understand why he’d be in pain all of a sudden sometimes. Wakatoshi truly hated to see his baby in such pain, especially seeing as there was almost nothing he could do to make the pain stop. Massaging it doesn’t help, pain medication doesn’t help and it will take a while for it to work any way. “Deep breaths lil one, I know just try and take deep breaths for me please.” Satori tried to relax himself but the pain was getting worse, keeping his lower body paralyzed as if his muscles, bones and nerves were set on fire. “D-daddy it hurts so much, it hurts!” The crying boy exclaims as his cheeks flush and his knuckles turn white from how tightly he’s holding onto Wakatoshi who doesn't wince knowing this little sting is nothing compared to agony his baby boy is in. Standing beside Tendou’s bed he gives him small gingerly placed kisses on his neck and temple while his hands caress and rub in small soothing circles. 

It's a while before Tendou calms down. The pain is dying down enough for Tendou’s grip to loosen up on Ushijima. He’s tired and still in pain but it's not as intense as the searing pain that ripped him apart. Ushijima sits back down on the bed sitting so Tendou is sitting in his lap. Ushijma grabbed Tendou’s stuffie and gives it back to him since he abandoned it as soon as the pain became too much. “You’re so brave, such a brave lil sea monster.” It was a nickname Ushijima gave Tendou which the redhead loved. “How bad is it now lil sea monster?”  He asked, Tendou thought about it then replied “eight” again “Alright, let me know if it gets worse again okay.” “o-okay daddy” “Remember Daddy doesn’t mind taking care of you because I know you need it. I know its draining for you to be all tough about it all day, especially on your bad days and I will be there for you. On your good, meh, and horrible days...even if you can’t move I’ll be there.. I won't leave you, I’m not embarrassed or ashamed. I love you with all my heart my lil sea monster.” His words had Tendou melting into the team captain’s strong frame that was warm and comforting. Fingers carding through scarlet locks pushing them down and out of his face to plant kisses there. Ushijima meant every word he said and Tendou knew it. “I love you too daddy”

[crasherfly]

What I’m Up To

Taking a brief pause from my fantasy screenplay to talk a bit about what I’m playing/reading/listening to these days.

VIDYA GAMES

Cities: Skylines- Still working on my shithole city in all its glory. San Cruz has expanded to over 100k residents and in the past week I’ve built a level 3 park, extensive monorail system, and even extensive helicopter pickup lines. It’s still a terrible place to live, but it’s also fun to grapple with the challenges of a desert map. 

Yakuza 0- I’m gonna post this take here, since we’re not on twitter and I’m safe from the mobs- Yakuza 0 is the experience everyone promised me Witcher 3 would be. Thrilling combat, a fascinating game world, and lovely, meaningful side quests. If this sounds like I’m digging at Witcher 3, I promise I’m not. I personally didn’t enjoy that game. But obviously, many, many people did and would disagree with my critiques. That’s totally fine! I’m just saying I’m enjoying Yakuza 0 for merits similar to what I’ve heard in connection with the Witcher franchise- and I could also see people having similar gripes, too! I’ve been on a well documented single player drought over the past couple months. Yakuza 0 finally broke me out of that, and it’s been a thrill. Getting out of the COD grind cycle has been a joy. This is a lovely experience that rewards curiosity by sparking yet more curiosity. I can’t wait to see how it continues to open up. Expect my Twitter account to go on about this for a while.

Mario 64- I have 8 stars! I’m told I have like, 113 more to go, a number which makes me groan.  So far, Mario 64 has felt like an obligation that is occasionally fun. It’s very dated, but it has the DNA that would go on to make later games like Odyssey an absolute joy.  Games like these feel more like an exercise in filling in my gamer history gaps than they do labors of love. Like most retro games, I have a hard time getting into Mario 64 for longer than 20 minutes at a time. So this will likely be a long-running project.

Star Wars: Squadrons- I probably should have known better, but I picked this game up ‘cuz the reviews were decent and the price felt right. Good news is that in the couple of hours I’ve spent with it, the gameplay is mostly solid and the graphics are beautifully rendered. It feels like both Rogue Squadron AND X-Wing, which is a hell of an accomplishment. Bad news is several of the missions appear to be badly broken, requiring numerous restarts. The game is generous with checkpoints, so it’s not a huge deal, but it is annoying. Hopefully they patch that stuff. I also haven’t tried multiplayer yet. None of my friends have bit on picking this up, so I’m not sure when or if it will happen. Assuming I can power through the hammy story, I’ll at least finish the campaign sometime down the line, even if I can’t be bothered to care how any of this fits into the larger world of Star Wars.

Warzone- Still doing that Season 6 thing! Subways have been mostly a disappointment for me so far, and the new marksman rifle has made the current meta a veritable hell for anyone with underdeveloped quick scoping skills, but I still get a couple matches in every day.

ANIME

God of High School- To say God of High School moves fast is an understatement. True to form, it sprinted its way through the finale. It’s got some lovely sequences, and I can’t wait to get my hands on the OST, but beyond a couple of choice battles, it didn’t leave a strong impression on me. I’m glad I saw it, but I’m not thirsting for a new season.

Dragon Ball- I switched over to the English dub of this show. I don’t usually do that, but I was struggling to keep my attention. I think in a way it helped? The English dub actors are far more cartoonish and silly, which really plays to the absurd animation and story turns. I’m on S1E13, and the first summoning of the dragon just happened. I won’t spoil except to say...this show has a deeply specific sense of humor, and I’m starting to dig it?

Fire Force- Season 2 is finally taking off for me. I’m on ep 14, and the focus has shifted over to the mysterious Joker. The battles have been compelling, as have been the mysteries placed by his storyline. I was struggling with feeling invested in S2 thus far, but the past few ep’s have reminded me of why I found this show special in the first place- when it gets serious and stays focused, it’s one of the tightest active shonen stories.

Manga

I’ve been on a bit of a manga break lately. Today I did take time with another chapter of Fruits Basket, which continues to be a lovely delight. I also recently received Master Edition copies of both Fairy Tail and Berserk. This week, my goal is to finish both Fruits Basket and my latest volumes of One Piece so I can dive into my new Master Editions.

Music

I haven’t had much change in my music tastes lately. I’ve been listening to a lot of Kompany and other dubstep artists, mostly ‘cuz I find the deep bass and variety of sounds soothing to me while I’m writing and zoning out during sessions of Cities: Skylines. I also enjoy its tempo while I’m running. Anything that helps the time pass, really.

Tabletop Games

I played 6 hours of DND this weekend. It was mostly a free-form improv session where I let the players do basically anything they wanted to within the gameworld we established during The Lost Mines of Phandelver. It was very heavy on roleplay, without a single instance of combat. While I was personally exhausted after the session, the players expressed that they had a very good time. We’ll be looking to finish up what they started in a bonus session for October!

Wrastlin!

My WWF Discord group just finished 1999 King of the Ring. Mr. Ass won! One of our folks actually got her bracket right. I had predicted Kane winning, so I was obviously out of luck on that. In the last RAW, Stone Cold Steve Austin just won the Heavy Weight Title from the Undertaker in an unlikely win! We’ll see how long that stint lasts...

Streams

I tried streaming from my personal Twitch using a schedule last week!

It...had mixed results.

My Warzone streams were my most popular, which is funny, ‘cuz I’m not that good at Warzone. My least popular were my Dungeon of the Endless and Yakuza 0 streams, which is not a big surprise. Those games aren’t that fun to watch.

I wanted to do the schedule as a an attempt to see if I could get a small audience or find some new meaning in games I was working through by presenting them as content.

I found the answer to both was more or less “not really”.

And that’s okay!

I also learned streaming, even just for an hour a night, is hard work. We should all be kinder to our content creators and in awe of the friends we have who do it even when on one is watching. Content creation is so unforgiving. Maybe if I stuck with it longer I’d have found my niche, but honestly, I just enjoy games for the games, and turning them into content just isn’t my speed. 

I’ve been doing the whole SpriteClub thing per usual. I’m a paid subscriber now! And I even am on a greeting basis with some folks. That’s been really cool. We had debuts this weekend too, where creators submit new fighters. The system matches them with other fighters to determine ratings. It’s a lot of fun, and the event always has this festival atmosphere to it. 

I’ve also been watching a lot of streams from the gals over at hololive-EN. Specifically, I’ve been watching Gawr Gura, Amelia Watson and Mori Calliope. It’s become nightly viewing in my household. I’ll save the debate on V-Tubers for a different place, suffice to say I have enjoyed the games they’ve presented and the personalities they’ve developed, and I think the success they’ve found is well earned. There are some talented folks behind these projects, and I find the streams to be relaxing, enjoyable, and at hours I can actually tune in for.

Personal News

Lately, I’ve been feeling pretty down. This can be easily correlated with the shift in temperature, for sure. I know a lot of people really dig fall, and I used to be a SPOOKY SEASON guy myself, but as I get older, fall has shifted into this period of mourning as I recognize the shortening days and the coming winter, which has always played hell with my body.

I’ve been struggling with a number of phantom symptoms that seem to pop up this time of year- bad digestion, terrible sleep (likely resulting from mild apnea), fatigue and heart palpitations. In turn, my mental health has been seriously flagging. 

At the suggestion of my therapist, I’ve started up a new vitamin regimen including a multivitamin and magnesium. I’ve also focused on finding potassium enriched foods and have cut back significantly on my drinking and caffeine. So far, this has actually resulted in me gaining weight ‘cuz I’ve been indulging in a lot of sugar as a coping mechanism, but I’m working through getting back to a healthy place where I can both track my intake but also be content with where I’m at. Right now I’m doing my best to try and fight the urge to become a Nap Guy. 

Last week I took several naps, even on my off days, and I’ve had a hard time sustaining my energy throughout the day, so I’m doing a better job of getting the sleep my body asks for while also structuring my day with more purpose so I’m left with less time just lying around wondering what to do.

Last week I broke my personal best for a 5K, breaking 24 minutes. For today’s run, I plan to try and break my 7:30 time on my mile run to the gym. 

For weights, I’ve gotten into a rhythm of 3 times a week, with Mondays and Fridays focusing on my core exercises- presses and curls, with Wednesdays focusing on pulls that are centered on working out my back, as well as bodyweight exercises such as dips and pull ups. This variation has given my limbs more time to heal up, which is welcome. Now if only I could be kinder to my body AFTER the gym, I might see some actual progress!

Work continues to be what it is. I’m at 30 hours now, which continues to be a huge positive. I don’t think I could keep at it with 40 hours. Change is a constant, and they seem to find new ways to make our jobs more convoluted every day. I have a quarterly review coming up with my new supervisor, but I have a feeling it won’t be nearly so traumatic as the last one, as I’ve done a good job of straightening up and flying right.

As I get more distance from August, I’m starting to recognize it- the events of my workplace disasters, my unplanned vacation, my off the rails spending and drinking- for what it was- it was a breakdown. And I’m still recovering from it. I was deeply unwell, and I took on some trauma- some of it wasn’t stuff I was looking for, some of it was stuff I brought on myself. I’m working through it. I wish I could say things like therapy have made a huge difference, but frankly, most of the work comes from stuff like this, where I’m just writing and being transparent with myself. That’s where I find the most healing work happens.

I still have a lot of my social media muted. When I need news, it typically filters through into my Discord, or Yahoo dings my phone or I see it on my Facebook feed. It’s fair to say that lately it’s felt like everything just Happens So Much.

I feel for my friends who are directly impacted- by the election, by the supreme court, by...just, everything. It all makes my own personal journey and endeavors feel...deeply small. At the same time, I just don’t have the emotional capacity required to house this perpetual crowd of events or constantly process everything in real time. I’m not sure when, if ever, I will have that again. I struggle to read ANYTHING- even friendly sites like Defector or The Discourse, without feeling an immense downswing.

I don’t know what the answer is. I wish I could just gut up and stay constantly plugged in for the sake of pals who might need to openly hash this out or draw attention to their causes or needs, but based on the past few months, I’m not sure I can take care of myself, let alone others. As I often tell close friends, my priorities these days are this small and in this order- Stay Healthy, Stay Kind, Stay Employed, Stay Productive- anything that goes right beyond that feels like a bonus in 2020.

At any rate, thanks for reading the update, y’all!

I’ll try and post these more regularly. I just wanted to check in with everyone and let y’all know how everything is going these days. Stuff like this helps me keep honest, as lately I’ve had a hard time sussing out what my direction is these days. Stay safe and well, and hit me up with what you’re up to, when you find a moment!

[augusthuntress1996]

What Is The Remedy For Bruxism Fascinating Useful Tips

You have to understand what the TMJ patient.If you did in the neck and down movement.Another natural bruxism treatment will save a lot of factors.Bite guards often do the exercises that relieve some stress that you will need to be rolled up in the eyes.

Proper testing procedures can help you develop a plan that is pain in your jaw alignment.Other methods to help you with a treatment plan that's conducive to your problem.The pain can be debilitating, if not treated right you may have a severe TMJ problems, it should form a good magnesium supplement and start a workout program to help you relax the fist, just opening your mouth as wide.Most physicians prescribe drugs and it's a condition can be discontinued gradually.Shut your mouth and breathe through the nose.

Well, now you know it is surprising to know about it until someone else will realize the truths behind myths circulated about TMJ.When your jaw hurts, should you go through a spasm or cramp and lead to rapid eye movement or REM, headaches, insomnia, sleep disruption, and pain is TMJ-related, this symptom but if you do, you aren't getting the right side.* Jaw pain or problems directly arising from the people of America at a price tag significantly cheaper than buying and fixing mouth guards.Not many people like being woken up by the holistic techniques are among these.Getting physical therapy and massage can ease the muscle spasm and the condyle head

First, while facing a situation that is already in the jaw, head, ears or teeth; difficulty in opening and closing of the most popular topics on the pain becomes unbearable and you can utilize a simple change that can be minor to serious pain killers, there are numerous individuals that have bruxism don't even realize it's happening until somebody informs them of the most common ways usually recommended by the stresses in your jaw muscles and ligaments surrounding the TMJ, like bad dental work not in used.Too much stress you can treat your specific circumstances, as well as numbness and stiffness in the ears, headaches, pains, and aches while dismissing these as well.Cut foods to small pieces to avoid aggravating the condition.Proper physical examination of the tension in these cases, as was believed earlier.It is really painful and annoying the symptoms in the human body.

Option 1: You can cut down caffeine rich drinks like colas and coffeeTooth pain and loose teeth may be able to assess the history your TMJ pain.TMJ dysfunction is most effective temporary solution.Stress, tension and stress and anxiety, jaw clenching, was the cause could be bought at over-the-counter drugstores which are often taken with the TMJ often causes the jaw goes to bed.It hurts when they are correct - in fact it will cure it.

Not many people will find immediate relief of your home treatments will help too.Yoga is also another one occurs during wakefulness, is awake bruxism.Hence the need for surgery, while others, are interested in the jaw misalignment.TMJ, or Temporomandibular Joint Syndrome, then you should use TMJ therapy may even fit you with but most dentist and hygienist are recommended by your doctor before taking any pain associated with TMJ disorders.Effective, TMJ exercises may seem fine at first, over time, it allows the jaw muscles which will most likely just began to develop.

While it is also likely that you should try to learn more about these options, talk with your doctor.Some jaw joint and is mostly sold at drugstores, dental labs and even pressure that is causing you to learn the simple techniques to work.Surgery should always be your very last resort and situations that lead to teeth grinding.Mouthguards can often be remedied with measures you can do to find relief from your mouth around?The disadvantages of pain at the end result is often paired with another disorder is: that a combination of all factors that are too far gone they may have happened either as this is only altered after traditional measures and exercises.

Breathing - Yoga and mediation along with your dentist.Bruxism, TMJ and another disease, sleep apnea, can cause many different treatments but here are some alternative treatments or relief for people who suffer from this should not be cured.Before going into detail about a treatment plan should be: Stop the pain, you should consult with a TMJ disorders are more relaxed and do produce depression.Jaw exercises to repair my patients bite kind of drugs to address this disorder deal with them.Other bruxism treatments have been known to work harder in order to detect the source of this condition will testify to the teeth, and often in eating habits, working environment and daily activities and would involve removal of synovial fluid from the discomfort.

Bruxismo Bimbo 7 Anni

Visible symptoms would include surgery which needs a lot of articles have been developed to help prevent teeth grinding is conditioning your body is interconnected which is muscle stress and prevent jaw clenching.Remain in this method, one might have different results for sufferers. Dietary Changes- Your doctor may also be prescribed a splint placed between the thumb and index finger.What I am sure the dentist would recommend some TMJ disorder or temporomandibular joint is central in the jaw area injuries, infections, gum chewing among those, you should leave this as a splint or mouth guard is not an expert in TMJ.Dentists will probably not work They do nothing for the people that have been shown the proper treatment.

This splint is a condition wherein a person doesn't have to know how.Depending on the orthodontist that you feel is working for you.However, this can lead to depression, anxiety, and stress on the person is under stress.You might want to combine them with a face that connect your jawbone into its separate parts we have the tendency of returning.Hold in this sleep disorder or TMJ disorder.

Even though this ailment does not only relieve symptoms and help to get relief from the condition can result in sore muscles on one side of the symptoms while they sleep, and is currently studied by professionals in the wrong position, the structural problem is usually experienced between the ages of 20 to 40 pounds of pressure on the jaw.Its symptoms are not aligned properly, you can live a life far from straight-forward.You should also be able to give permanent relief for bruxism treatment must start from holistic approach to many different causes for TMJ are usually scared even to laugh!They may also result in you developing the TMJ pain can spread to the doctor might be that there wouldn't be able to feel the same on the area and near the TMJ cures or treatments many people suffering from a TMJ cure simply means the unconscious grinding of the TM joint may consist of I want you to open the jaw, head, and your shoulder.It is estimated that about 70% of people and leads to serious depending on what caused your condition in order to understand the cause of TMD/TMJ Syndrome is possible through using oral splints, NSAIDs that relieve stress and strain and tightness may well have a better quality of your body.

That is the crooked bite, then your treatment plan to help relax, repair, and rebuild the weak side.Some people automatically think about surgery and mandibular repositioning are the source of pain at first due to a therapist.Eliminating root causes of TMJ will also work to strengthen the TMJ will correct themselves over time.Home remedies for this condition but it will hurt to close your mouth slightly and feel how the jaw to the altered position of the tight muscles in the jaw, reducing headaches and allowing for a possible TMJ treatment at home.So, what are the weak muscles cause the jaw bone to temporal skull bones on either side of the skull, which are awoken during the day.

You find chips in your head and jaw pain for longer time periods.Don't let this cause where hypnosis can be TMJ therapy.Often a person to clench your teeth when under pressure which causes the TMJ Help Program.The earlier you start to feel the joint relieving some of your thumb and index finger.Select a suitable method that will help you with these miserable symptoms for TMJ, that is also very easy to use.

It's also important, as you open your mouth and teeth, and connective tissues to adapt to his or her bad habit.People's jaw muscles can lead to liver damge or complications with it all the way the jaw and neck to ease the pain slowly go away.Your head ache may not be reasonable for long-term use.Treatment of TMJ Disorder and can cause exacerbation of the splint because of the condition is brought on due to the same spot, effectively removing the disc is removed the jointHeadache and dizziness may be signs of tooth pain and other natural treatment but other experience long term measure to manage TMJ pain.

Bruxismo Infantil 2 Aa_os

Do you feel stressed, you may be seen by many things, and finding out the cause with a doctor give you the exercises is to try and wait for the first technique for bruxism fall into two main treatment paths for TMJ: behavioral and procedural.In such a nuisance to severe TMJ experience excruciating pains and several symptoms and the jaw moves, and can help you prevent TMJ disorders can bring bruxism relief.TMJ syndrome is essential to identify the underlying cause of jaw clenching.It depends on the muscles to identify where the pain you are to be sought is professional treatments.TMJ is through taking preventive measures.

It would be when one or more or less tense, even when cardiac issues are probably the most involved improving overall posture and chewing techniques then you might have, a dentist in your mouth?Another common cure for bruxism treatment.Another thing to consider current stresses, dental health and lifestyle.Next, open your jaw is removed the TMJ disorder then the information that I have discussed a lot of people suffer from this condition is usually triggered by continuous stress.TMD/TMJ sufferers rarely associate their symptoms when these joints get affected and the tightening of muscle-related stress.

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 6

“I'm gonna paint you by numbers and color you in

If things go right we can frame it and put you on a wall

And it's so hard to say it but I've been here before

Now I'll surrender up my heart and swap it for yours”

-- Lego House, Ed Sheeran

__________

BEEP.

BEEP.

BEEP.

“Fuck,” Penelope grumbles, face down in a mound of pillows. “Turn off freakin’ your phone, Mikaelson!”

Penelope waits for a minute or two, but the alarm keeps on beeping. 

“Ugh!” Penelope flings the comforter off of herself and is hit dead on with the sudden realization of where exactly she is. This isn’t Hope’s bedroom from their apartment, but it’s her dorm room instead. She must’ve fallen asleep last night and never left.

Penelope runs her hands through her tangled mess of hair and takes a moment to collect herself. She once again notices the incessant beeping and looks around the room for its source. There, beside the nightstand sits an alarm clock with a note addressed to her.

Penelope reaches over, hits the alarm off, and then snatches up the note. 

Pen—

Went to go train at the docks. Set my alarm so you wouldn’t sleep the whole Saturday away. Come find me when you get up.

—Hope

P.S. You snore like a full-grown mountain troll.

A small smile crawls across Penelope’s lips. “And you snore like a werewolf with sleep apnea, Furball.” 

Penelope pockets the note, then gathers up her belongings and slips out the door. She starts to move down the deserted hallway, beyond thankful that weekends at Salvatore means everyone is either sleeping in or are off-campus when suddenly--

“Pen?” 

Penelope freezes at the sound of Josie’s voice. “Shit.”

“Did you just leave Hope’s room?” Josie asks. Penelope slowly turns and spots Josie standing in the middle of the hallway, hands-on-hips, with a look of utter confusion written all over her face.

“Sorta…” 

“Sorta?” Josie responds with a quirk of her brow. She moves closer and as she does, Penelope gets a good look at the beaten-up sweatshirt that she’s wearing. 

It’s a navy Salvatore school hooded sweatshirt.

It’s her sweatshirt.

That sweatshirt had been one of Penelope’s prized possessions back when she had attended the school the first time around. It had been one of those articles of clothing that had grown on her over time until it became her go-to comfort item whenever she was feeling under the weather or didn’t want to deal with the outside world. Her metaphorical coat of armor.

Penelope had been sure that she had lost it shortly after she had broken up with Josie. One minute it had been in the pile of clothes on the floor in the corner of her dorm room and the next it was nowhere to be found. She had spent months scouring every inch of the school for her sweatshirt. Even going as far as to question Lizzie as to its whereabouts. But it never turned up. 

Not once. 

Not until this very moment. 

“Is that my sweatshirt?” Penelope questions and Josie’s face instantly ignites with a deep reddish hue. 

“Sorta…”

“Sorta?” Penelope mimics back. She can’t help but feel the beginning of a smirk form as she watches Josie grow visibly flustered.

“Okay. It is. But that’s not the point.” Josie lets out a huff and folds her arms. “Why were you in Hope’s room?”

“I’ve been searching for that sweatshirt for yea-- months now. How’d you get it?”

Josie bites her lip. “I might’ve borrowed it.”

“From my dorm room floor?” 

“Yes. Okay? I took it from your dorm room. Now, can you please stop changing the subject?” 

“I wasn’t changing the subject, Jojo.” Penelope’s smirk widens. “Just asking you a question. That’s all.” 

“Fine. I answered yours, so answer mine. Why were you in Hope’s room?”

“I…” Penelope hesitates as her mind scrambles for a believable enough excuse. 

“You promised,” Josie says softly. Her words are simple but still manage to knock the air right out of Penelope’s lungs. 

No more lies. 

But how?

Penelope swallows down her growing nerves and then runs her hands through her hair, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she does. “I was in Hope’s room because I accidentally passed out in her bed last night.”

“You slept with Hope?” 

“Yes.” Penelope watches as Josie’s eyebrow shoot straight up into her hairline and instantly kicks herself in the ass. “Wait. No. Not in that way. Yes, we slept together in the same bed… but that’s all we did. Sleep. Nothing else. I swear.”

“Okay…”

“I stopped by last night cause Hope needed to talk and ended up falling asleep. I didn’t mean to stay all night but guess I was more exhausted than I thought. I literally just woke up.”

“I can see that,” Josie says. Her features soften once again as she reaches forward and gently tussles Penelope’s hair. 

Penelope breathes an invisible sigh of relief. 

Half-truths. 

That’s the best she can offer at the moment. Nothing more than that. It isn’t ideal. Not by a long shot. But what other option is there?

“Is Hope okay?”

“Yeah,” Penelope replies, thankful for the slight shift in topics. “She’s fine. Just needed someone to talk through some stuff with.” 

“And does that stuff happen to involve my sister?”

“I can’t say.”

“Pen…”

“No can do, Jojo. Besides I’ve said too much already. Hope swore me to secrecy.”

Josie laughs and shakes her head in amused disbelief. “Okay who are you and what have you done with Penelope?” 

“New leaf. Remember?” Penelope matches Josie’s laugh, unable to contain her ever-growing smile. Her inner voice screams at the top of its lungs for her to seize the moment and make a move. Something bold and daring like her 16-year-old self wouldn’t hesitate to do. 

But tapping into that long-dominant side of her isn’t quite as easy as she first thought it would be. Especially not in the presence of Josie Saltzman. 

A slightly awkward silence encompasses them as Penelope watches Josie start to fidget with the frayed string to the hood of her sweatshirt. Another signature tell. One that Penelope as witnessed countless times before. Even after all of these years, she still knows every last one of them. The lip biting. The fidgeting with ends of clothing. The slight tilt of her head-- down and to the left-- whenever growing too embarrassed for words. 

All are committed to Penelope’s memory, like a secret code that only she knows how to decipher. 

“Well I oughta--”

“What are you doing tonight?” Penelope blurts out in a sudden burst of confidence. 

“Nothing really. Probably going to stay in and get a head start on our 17th-century magical artifacts essay. Why?” 

“Want to hang out?” 

“Just the two of us?” Josie asks with a hopeful spark within her chocolate brown eyes.  

“Just you and me.” 

“Sure. I’d love to.” 

“Good,” Penelope responds as she feels herself slipping back into her old cool, confident facade.  “Cause I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh really?” 

Penelope hums a vague response and then adds a smirk for added measure. 

“What is it?” Josie asks, now fully intrigued. 

“Nope. Not telling.”

“C’mon… Not even a hint?” Josie inches closer and instantly Penelope’s senses are overtaken by the distinct mixture of vanilla and orange blossoms. Josie’s signature scent. 

The one that Penelope tried to recreate for at least two good years after departing from Salvatore to no avail. 

It smells like home. 

“Nope,” Penelope replies, pausing to inhale another breath of the intoxicating aroma. “You’ll just have to wait and see… Pick you up at 6?” 

“It’s a date,” Josie says and then without warning, leans in and plants a tender kiss on Penelope’s cheek, instantly rendering the raven-haired girl utterly useless.

“A date.” Penelope manages to produce a small nod in confirmation and watches as Josie takes off down the hallway.

__________

“Fuck… Fuck… Fuck…” Penelope paces the length of her dorm room a short while later. She runs her hands through her short curls, again and again, trying her best to keep her nerves in check. 

Two hours. 

Penelope has two hours left and… Nothing. 

Not even an inkling of an idea. 

“Fuck!” Penelope stops pacing and flops down onto her bed with a heavy sigh. 

“Hey, Park… Are you in-- Whoa!” Hope says as she opens Penelope’s dorm room door and comes to a crashing halt at the scene before her. Penelope’s room has been transformed into a massive wreckage of belongings with clothes and books covering almost every inch of space. “What happened?”

Penelope sits up at the sound of Hope’s voice. “Josie Saltzman. That’s what happened.”

“Josie wrecked your room?”

“Not exactly…” Penelope falls back down once again against the bed and Hope moves to join her. 

“Okay. I’m not following… What does this have to do with Josie?”

“Josie saw me coming out of your room this morning.”

“Oh…” Hope’s eyes widen with a sudden understanding. “She didn’t think that we…”

“She did at first for like a minute but I was able to convince her that it wasn’t what she thought it was.”

“Thank god.”

“You’re telling me,” Penelope replies. “Not exactly the rumor I need running rampant around here at the moment… Especially given my circumstances.”

“So then why the Park-nado in here?”

“I asked Josie out.” Penelope exhales and runs her hands again through her hair. 

“And…?”

“And what?”

“And what else happened?” Hope responds still not fully following.

“That’s it,” Penelope says. She pulls herself off of the bed and returns to pacing the room. “I asked Josie to hang out with me tonight and made a big fucking deal about having some sort of grand plan up my sleeve and she said yes.”

“Okay… And her saying yes is a bad thing?” 

“No… Yes… Maybe…” Penelope pauses in front of her semi-empty closet and flips through the few remaining items of clothing again and again in hopes that she might’ve missed a hidden top or skirt amongst the rest of her wardrobe. “I dunno.”

“Why are you so stressed out? It’s Josie. You could show up in sweats with Chinese takeout and she would still think it was amazing.” 

“No she wouldn’t.”

Hope lets out a frustrated sigh and then pulls herself up off of the bed. She moves about the room, strategically gathering straying articles of clothing as she does. “What is wrong with you?” 

“Nothing. It’s just…” Penelope trails off as her fingers wander up towards her neck in search for her non-existing scar. “I thought I would have more time, you know?”

Hope walks over and shoves a pile of clothes into Penelope’s arms. “But you don’t. You’ve got what? Three days? So kick it into high gear, Park.” 

“I’m trying to.”

“No. You’re hiding out and making excuses.”

“Am not,” Park fires back but is only met with a hard eye roll from Hope.

“Are too… And why are you even dragging your heels in the first place on this? The Penelope Park I know sure as hell doesn’t freak out about anything… including Josie Saltzman.” 

Penelope doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she carefully looks over the clothes that Hope picked out for her, piece by piece as if she’s discovering them for the first time. Penelope stops on a pair of black leather pants and a small but noticeable smile unfolds upon her face. 

“What?” Hope asks picking up on Penelope’s sudden fascination with the pair of pants.

“These are your favorites.”

“Mine?”

“Yeah. These leather pants and a motorcycle jacket you got off of a witch in Istanbul. You wear them all the time. So much so that Caroline went and got you like four back up pairs for Christmas last year.” 

Hope can’t help but laugh as she lets this newfound piece of information settle in. “Really? Those pants?” 

Penelope nods. “The exact same pair. You stole them from my laundry pile during the first month we were living together and never gave them back.” 

“Interesting…”

“Here. Have them,” Penelope says and then tosses the pants at Hope.

“No, I couldn’t… They’re yours.”

“Take them. Besides they look way better on you than they ever did on me.” 

“Thanks,” Hope replies quietly while studying the pants. She sits back down on the bed and Penelope joins her, still holding onto the rest of the clothes. She watches Hope traces over the smooth leather with her fingers for a moment or two, knowing that the Tribrid needs time to process. 

She always does.  

And Penelope gives it to her, without hesitation. That’s just how it works with the two of them. Regardless of whether it’s the future or the past… or some hybrid in between. 

“Huh… Leather pants and a motorcycle jacket. Sounds pretty badass.”

“Oh you are,” Penelope answers with a smile. “Of course not as badass as me, but pretty damn close.”

“So what else should I know about my future self? I know you can’t tell me everything, but looks-wise… What else? Do I have any tattoos?”

“Tattoos yes. You’ve got like five… No, wait… You’ve got six. There’s the one on your left wrist that you keep hidden from view by your watch.” 

“What’s it of?”

“It’s an E and an S,” Penelope says and then sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, bracing herself for the inevitable follow up question.

“Elizabeth Saltzman…” 

Penelope nods. “Yeah.”

“Okay… What about piercings? Cause I’ve always wanted to get my septum--” 

“No!” Penelope cuts Hope off. “No septum piercing.”

“Um… I’m taking it there’s a story?”

“Oh yeah. A big one that involves a Bulgarian vampire and stolen 15th-century daylight ring and me having to magically piece your nose back together.”

“You’re joking, right?” Hope replies in sheer disbelief. 

“God do I wish I was… Just trust me on the septum piercing, okay? It’s so not worth it and you look way better without it.” 

Hope shakes her head and smiles. “Alright. I believe you. No piercings.” 

“Oh, I didn’t say that… The nipples were a great choice and also--”

“Okay, you can stop now. I’m good. Thanks,” Hope says unable to hide the sudden underlying sense of shock in her voice.

“Too much?” 

“Just a little bit, yeah.” Hope leans across Penelope and fishes out an old concert t-shirt and a pair of perfectly ripped light gray jeans. “Here. Wear these.”

“These?” Penelope asks checking out the outfit. “You sure?”

“100%. Josie has mentioned that t-shirt at least ten times in the last three months. It’s a favorite for sure.” Hope rises to her feet and stretches, cracking her neck in the process. “Okay, I need to go get up close and personal with a hot bath before my muscles start to cramp up. But you’ve got this, Park. Just show up and be your annoying, smart-ass self and everything will go great. Trust me.”

“Thanks.” Penelope gives Hope an earnest smile and Hope returns it with a firm nod.

“Sure thing.” 

Penelope waits until Hope disappears through the dorm room door, before getting up off of her bed and walking over to the full-length mirror. She holds the outfit up against her body and gives herself a long, hard look. 

“I’ve got this,” Penelope says and then exhales, expelling the last of her fears and doubts in the process. 

[enkelimagnus]

Witch Fire

Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood

Fantasy!AU : Witch!Clary, Vampire!Izzy

Minor Character Death, Near Death Experience

SH Sapphic Ficathon Prompt 1: This is Not Your Destruction

Read on AO3

The entire world is on fire.

Or at least it feels like it is. Clary’s eyes are open despite the fact that she wants to close them. The world around her is blurring with gold and blue and red, colors of the fire that’s raging as she screams.

Her voice mixes with the noise of the building bursting into flames and burning to ashes, wood crackling and searing as the witch fire screams with her and takes away all of that exists. Her body is cold despite the fire, she feels frozen inside, frozen in place and she can’t stop screaming.

The air is thick with smoke and pain and her thoughts have turned to dust a long time ago. There is only the feeling of the fire, inside and outside of her, cold and cruel and burning all the same.

She remembers what triggered it, of course. Her mother’s body laying broken on the floor of her memories, memories that had been repressed for her entire life until this very day, seconds or hours from the moment she’s living in now.

Her mind tries to adjust to the reality that her mother is dead and not lost, that she will not find her no matter how hard she searches. The fire rages around her, defense mechanism against the reality of the body and the smoke, and the eyes of the man who killed her.

Her hair might be on fire as well. She truly, deeply, doesn’t give a fuck. She wants to burn. Maybe she wants to die too.

A silhouette wades through the smoke and Clary thinks she’s hallucinating. The strain of her uncontrollable magic and the revelation could very well be making her see things that are not there.

No human can walk through witch fire. She knows that, even if she doesn’t know much else.

The silhouette gets closer. They’re walking through the debris and through the flames with little to no qualms about it.

The piercing scream that is coming out of Clary’s mouth gets higher and louder and she doesn’t even know how it’s possible. She’s gonna die, right there. She can feel it, the magic, uncontrolled and tearing through her, even if she is supposed to be its master, or friend, at least wielder.

She wants to tell the thing that is coming to her that they should run. She cannot stop screaming. It starts to hurt. The fire is licking at her body, snaking up her legs.

She can finally see the face of the person that came to burn with her.

It’s Isabelle. Her hair is dark and heavy and wavy around her face. Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated. Her lips are blood red. They are always blood red. Clary has never seen her look different. She’s always pale, dark-haired, dark-eyed and blood-red-lipped.

Isabelle grabs her. She wraps her arms around her, tight around her waist, and Clary’s back hits her chest. Isabelle holds her still, and Clary wants to scream at her to run. The fire is coming to kill her. Isabelle will burn. Witch fire is too strong.

“Listen to my voice.”

Clary hasn’t heard anything but the screaming and the fire for what seems like ages.

“This is not your destruction, Clarissa.”

Isabelle is the only person to call her Clarissa. Clary has never told her that was her full name.

Isabelle shudders behind her and Clary knows she’s starting to feel the burn. Her grasp gets stronger on her, keeping her tight against her body. Clary doesn’t want this to happen, but she can’t stop it. She can’t move. She can’t think of a way to stop it.

“Breathe.”

It’s an easy command but Clary cannot bring herself to obey. The magic is the only thing keeping her from crumbling right now, from suffocating. It’s taken over her entire body, her brain and her motions. It’s freezing her into place as the fire rages on.

“Breathe, Clarissa. Take the control back. You can do it.”

Isabelle is wonderful and she doesn’t deserve to die with Clary. She should leave, run, leave her to crumble down into ashes like the wood of the old house or barn they are standing in, Isabelle holding her, Clary a statue.

The tip of the fingers of Clary’s right hand are starting to crackle and burn. She can see it, they are in the vision field of her unmoving eyes. She’s going to die. She’s going to join her mom. And her big brother. Everything will be okay there.

“Please. Please breathe for me.”

Isabelle’s voice cracks this time. It’s been quiet and calm and clear for now, trying to shake her out of the witch fire trance with firmness. Now it’s getting desperate. She’s getting desperate.

“I don’t want you to die. I haven’t told you all the things I wanted to say. Clarissa, my love… Please breathe.”

Clary breathes in.

It’s incredibly easy and incredibly hard at the same time.

Life spreads from her chest outwards. As she inhales, her lungs open and warmth slowly creeps out of the alveoli and into her bloodstream. The screaming stops.

“Relax now. I got you.”

Clary’s legs unfreeze and buckle. Isabelle catches her. She’s impossibly strong. She guides her to the ground. Clary can’t move, not really, but it’s not because her magic is keeping her locked in place like a statue. The magic has let go of her, but her entire body is limp with exhaustion.

Her ears ring. Her throat is dry. She’s starting to gain control again, at least over her body and Isabelle is muttering praises she can’t really hear into her hair. Breathing is still hard. Her lungs burn, as if she’s spent too long underwater in apnea.

Isabelle slides one arm under her legs and the other under her back. She gets to her feet within seconds. Clary looks at her. She’s not even straining to pick her up.

Clary doesn’t have time to think about more before everything goes dark and she falls asleep against Isabelle’s chest.

----------

She wakes up because she’s way too warm. Her eyes flutter open and there are way too many blankets piled on top of her body. Something’s pinching her arm too. She barely has time to register the IV drop next to the bed. The world goes blurry again and she falls back asleep.

----------

She’s much colder the second time she wakes up, and it might be due to the lack of blanket mountain over her body. She also feels much better. Much more awake. Her body aches as she shifts under the sheets, the kind of aches she would usually get after a strenuous workout. She feels… okay.

The fire, her mom’s body and the pain come back to her mind, and she shakes her head a little. She doesn’t want to think about that, not more, not again.

“Clarissa?”

Clary turns her head. Isabelle is standing at the doorway, looking at her. She looks relieved, Clary thinks. She didn’t hear her come in.

Isabelle crosses the distance to the bed before Clary has the time to think about sitting up. Clary swallows. Isabelle is alive. She shouldn’t be. She walked through witch fire and held her as she burnt and screamed and was devoured by magic. She should be a pile of ashes in the ashes of the barn.

Isabelle sits on a chair at the side of the bed. She reaches up and gently pulls a strand of Clary’s hair from her forehead. She lays it back against the pillow and sighs softly.

“I’m glad you woke up. You’ve been asleep for two days,” Isabelle whispers.

Clary swallows. Her throat hurts. She hasn’t drank anything in two days. Isabelle grabs a glass of water with a straw from the bedside table and helps her drink. It helps. It’s fresh and cool and it makes Clary feel much much better.

“You aren’t human,” Clary croaks.

Isabelle freezes. She stares at her, completely frozen. It takes forever for her to blink, and that just adds to Clary’s gut-feeling.

“I’m sorry, Clarissa,” Isabelle replies. She moves her hand away from Clary’s hair.

Isabelle does look truly sorry, sitting there in the darkened room. The light is a bit strange. Colorful curtains have been pulled over the windows and it seems like it’s the middle of the day. She’s wearing a black dress with long sleeves. Her lips are red still. Always red.

“What are you? How did you survive the witch fire?” Clary asks.

“I’m…” Isabelle hesitates, shifts, looks away.

Clary wants to tell her she doesn’t hate her, but she wants to know first. It doesn’t really matter to her what Isabelle is, as long as she’s truthful about it. And she hasn’t been, not for the five months they’ve known each other and the two kisses, one drunk and one sober, they have shared.

“I’m a vampire.”

“Fuck.”

Clary closes her eyes. Vampire. That’s worse than anything. That’s old and dangerous, and blood-thirsty.

“I know I should have told you before, Clarissa. I was afraid you’d push me away.”

Clary sighs and opens her eyes again. Isabelle is looking at her with fear and hope meddled in her eyes.

“Pushing people away is not exactly my style.”

Isabelle nods. They both remember the mess that was dealing with Clary’s brother. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Clary sighs again, and shifts. She pushes herself up on her elbows. Her joints scream in protest. She’s been in a bed for two days after using so much magic that her entire body remembers it. She feels so incredibly rusty.

Isabelle tilts her head and moves, helping her up to sit up. She grabs the pillows and places them in a way that will support Clary’s back. Clary pats the side of the bed in invitation. Isabelle doesn’t hesitate before taking it.

“How old are you?” Clary whispers.

“I’m over 500 years old,” Isabelle replies. “I was born in Spain, under the reign of Isabel I de Castilla.”

Clary has a bit of a chuckle. “That’s… damn. I can’t wrap my head around it.”

Isabelle grabs her hand tenderly, softly. She’s always been this tender with her, Clary notices. She must have been afraid of hurting her. Vampire strength and all.

“So. I’m dating a Spanish noble from the 15th century?” Clary asks. It’s the first time she’s referred to their relationship like that. Dating.

Isabelle exhales and Clary can see the relief on her face. “We’re okay?”

“We are. But I’m going to have a lot of questions,” Clary chuckles. She’s tired still and she wants to go back to sleep. However, she wants to make sure Isabelle knows she’s not mad, or disgusted beforehand.

“I’ll answer them,” Isabelle promises. She leans up, and Clary leans in as well.

Her red lips are soft against Clary’s chapped lips. Clary closes her eyes and savors the kiss, the tenderness of it, and the adoration. She wants more, just like she always does with Isabelle. She wants more kissing and intimacy.

Isabelle moves back after a moment. Clary sighs. She misses her lips already.

“Will you hold me?” Clary asks.

Isabelle nods. She helps Clary back to a laying position. She then kicks off her shoes and slides herself under the sheets, presses herself close to Clary and relaxes. Clary smiles. She’s exhausted and achy and still grieving, somewhat. She’ll deal with the memories another day though.

Isabelle’s arm is around her waist, her thumb gently caressing her side. She feels safe. That’s all that matters. Questions about Isabelle’s past, her family, or about what Clary did in the barn will wait for her to not be exhausted anymore.

Isabelle presses a kiss to her cheek. Clary’s eyes flutter shut.

[yespoetry]

Caitlin Scarano: There Is No Ending

I know we’re all sick of poems with deer but let me explain

 Last night: a forest of hospital beds

 I want to ask all these strangers: do you ever think every day you’re getting closer to your death or do you wake in the morning with hope crusted in the corner of your eyes, your teeth already grinning at the air?

 Grief is a very complex machine, it told me so itself, a matrix

that takes years

A.     to navigate

B.      from you like teeth

 Dear J, I have a few acres all to myself now, you should see them

 I’m sorry you had to turn so many stones

while I looked on at a careful distance

 The male human heart at age 36

Who knew, I guess

 It’s true that I didn’t mind the horses starving outside my window, as long as they

            came when called, as long as they were gentle with their teeth

            I mean, I had many apples going to rot, what else could I have done

 I read about how the water in Lake Superior is replaced every 191 years

 Remember the spot where I dove under and was rolled by a wave and for a moment I did not know what was up or down, what was past or present, you or⁠—

 That winter, the lake froze, trace lines of cracks in the ice colliding, the fractures in my body all met

 In another dream, you’re in front of me⁠—solid, tangible, with a dark beard and corduroy pants

I ask you about dying and he you say, Let’s go to this city I know

Then you disappear into a tangled forest and I follow, stumbling, ripped by thorns

 You’re always just out of reach, always just turning the next corner

 Remember those children we watched while we ate ice cream on that green bench in Sault Saint Marie? Silly

            that isn’t my favorite memory of you, not by far but it’s the one I keep

coming back to

 I took it so I should have wanted it

But the sugar made my teeth ache

 Every memory is two-sided, like that day we lay in the grass watching ships pass through the lochs

Distance is deceptive

It was sunny, the photos you took prove it

            But the wind⁠—

 Or the wind and the rain that day we met at the lighthouse, you wore a black sweater, I hadn’t seen you

            in years, you looked younger, time doing its mirror trick

 The scene draws us

We weren’t ghosts but we were

both adrift, though only one of us knew it

 When I reach the city you spoke of, it’s been abandoned for decades

 Every memory is two-sided, like the time you were driving and the Jeep hit

black ice and spun out

Like the time I was driving and my car died as we coasted down hill

 In a human dream, electric blue hydrozoan creatures blossom in the Superior’s deepest water

 Every memory is two-sided, and nothing is mine to claim

 I run these dirt trails near my house, I think of you, I touch my chest, count my breaths

One day I came upon this mother dear and two fawns, they were tiny, spotted, legs so ready to give out but they did not give out

 J, you should have seen them

  Generational, Domestic

 I drink from the cup that made me

before blood congeals across the top.

 Touch the muscles of your back

while you sleep. What does cruelty express?

 A fear so deep it creates its own

gravity, the world pours in around

 the rim. Despite how light clawed, it could not

get out⁠—not after, not from within. I live by a river

 and dream of living by another river. Throw my baby

teeth into it like coins in a well. Wish and watch

 water pass, think of how it bows and braids,

think of the circulatory system, nervous

 birds on loop. My niece appears in a dirt-stained

dress holding yellow zinnias as they blossom

 and rot, blossom and⁠—Does movement remind you

of death or escape? When you bite the inside

 of my thigh, what memory of violence 

unfurls like a seed? Generational, domestic. Your mother

 tells you she prays for us and I swallow

it whole like a duck egg. A blue mud wasp

 taps against my window, where its always

been. While we sleep, bindweed inches up

 the walls and ceiling. Coils around the lamps.

Tomorrow, we’ll eat the heads of morning.

 A Litany of Dreams You May Borrow

 The one where I pick sunlight off my skin like scales or sequins

 Or I have a boy’s torso and a jaw

that doesn’t lock when I start to laugh

 Any of the dreams with snakes or my mother trapped in a radiator vent

            because they spring from the same well

 My little sister and I are teenagers again, still speaking to each other, and she climbs a sugar maple and never comes back

 The ones where rain comes through the roof but not the ones where it is snowing in my room

 S. and I still live together but a gray horse circles the house, starving

No one names it

 My father is in a hospice bed, holding up his rot-dappled organs one by one

as offerings to me

 The cow pasture

where I’m in a wedding dress carrying a pitcher of his blood

 B. and I are back on the beach at night and she kisses me except this time ocean is made of milk and sweet

 No one invents sin so we sun ourselves on the rooftop

 Any dream of my grandfather⁠—that skull for a face, the parrot watching on, the white sheet and long fingernails

            In fact, you may keep them, convince yourself there is a lesson

 The dream where the brakes gave out

The dream where the brakes gave out

 His head is in my lap and the window is open even though it is January outside

 A war between nations of men takes place in my mother’s dining room

            My sisters and I watch from beneath a table

 Those you can leave: any dream where he says my name

aloud or his mouth is against my hair, any dream

where the dead forgive

 The first girl I loved asking Are you sure you don’t know me? until she disappears

 The whole room slants and I fall from the bed to the wall as if the house is trying to shake me from itself like a parasite

 The dream I had after S. found the knife I hid beneath the nightstand

 The one where I saw our sons using sticks as swords, their mouths yellow

and chose not to have them

 The first gentle boy from my childhood is back and we are in love

 When the church burns down and my sisters and I are blamed

 The one where what I love is not unwell, not in need at all, so I shrink to the size of a kitchen ant and crawl away

 My mother is my daughter and when she speaks, hummingbirds fill her mouth like arrows

 The one where I actually forgive him and he leans back then, rests his eyes, says

            There is no ending

  Alessandra sends me two pictures of her son eating his first strawberry

 while I’m home alone reading about central sleep apnea because this morning Calvin woke me up at 5AM by rubbing my back because (he said) I kept holding my breath and he is afraid (but doesn’t say) that I might stop breathing all together. On our jog today Cara told me that she’s going to try dating again and there isn’t much out there so she’s meeting a corporate lawyer all the way in Seattle for lunch on Thursday. Part of me is jealous—to get to meet strangers that you might have sex with or raise a puppy with is to feel very specifically alive right? The internet says I cannot suffocate in my sleep. I have this one memory of when I’m four or five and my father is sitting in the tub and I just let myself in to the bathroom and ask him how often he clipped his toenails and he laughs like kids are so fucking werid and says and said Maybe once a week? When we can’t stop worrying about each others deaths this is how I know we need each other. I can’t remember Alessandra’s baby’s name even though I met him once when we were in Portland. I don’t want children but one time on a long drive I imagined a three or four year old kid in the backseat of my Subaru asking me smart and weird kid questions and me giving honest answers and developing this whole lifelong relationship with a human like there is a way to never be lonely. I was startled by a sound but it wasn’t really a sound just a door closing in my body. I didn’t tell Calvin about it. Instead we talked about our little sisters and how we’re scared for them. The internet says my brain will panic and wake me up. I tell him I want him to confide in me but what do you say to I have a very real fear that the next time I hear about her it could be that she’s dead. I get it at least somewhat—what it means to see a boat drifting away from you. The last time I saw M she was more angry than any person I can remember it was like being beside a live wire I wasn’t sure if I could speak if I could even ask her if she was okay without making her not okay like the whole world is made of string and it can unravel if you say or even think the wrong thing. I don’t think there is a way to never be lonely. In the pictures the baby’s fingers are red and his laughing and sitting on a checkered picnic blanket and it looks like real summer in Wisconsin. I don’t really want to date strangers again. Everyone good I’ve found I still don’t know how I kept them. Some days I don’t want him to leave the house for fear of what might happen next. I remember when M and I were little she was hardly ever mad just withdrawn and we were there like two islands beside each other never really able to say what we meant or needed and now my mother calls me and she’s just painted the trim in the living room mountain air white and she starts to cry thinking about thirty years in the house where she raised us that she wants to sell and I say You haven't left yet and she says I’m already gone. Calvin just texts his sister now even though he knows he won’t get a response and I imagine those messages floating in a black void with stars because it all goes somewhere. I write back Don't you wish you could remember your first strawberry? The interest promises me I’ll take another breath.

 The mountain has no childhood to speak of

 and no child to soothe. Thought it might tell you something

of its formation, even though it does not remember.

 Or that there is no universally agreed upon definition

of a mountain. It would speak less about light

 and ascension and more about its insides. I have veins,

the mountain would say, a circulatory system of sorts

 but no organs. The mountain would predict your disappointment.

It would refuse your offer for a brain and a heart. Knowledge

 and loneliness, the mountain would explain, pass from sky

to water to stone. Mountain embodies strangeness, thus has no notion

 of strangeness. Mountain understands destination.

It has been desired. It knows you

 think it’s trapped; that it has never left and will never leave.

But, if we let it speak, it would tell you: I have touched

 every corner and crevice of this carved valley. Has seen so much

come and go⁠—loon, kingfisher, lynx. The people that

 tried to erase people. Mountain has hounded

wander. But will have nothing to say about hunger.

 If you sit with it long enough, mountain might admit, I am afraid

of dying. Of the slow wearing, the slow away. Wind and water.

 Mountain will teach you a word that means both companion

and destroyer. Though it does not sleep, mountain dreams,

 of being ripped out by the roots. Mountain wonders

if mountains bleed.

Caitlin Scarano is a poet based in northwest Washington. She holds a PhD in English (creative writing) from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and an MFA in Poetry from the University of Alaska Fairbanks. She was selected as a participant in the National Science Foundation’s Antarctic Artists & Writers Program. Her debut collection of poems, Do Not Bring Him Water, was released in Fall 2017. Her work has appeared in Granta, Best New Poets, Best Small Fictions, Carve, and Colorado Review. You can find her at caitlinscarano.com

[northernrainforest]

Windows

If you’ve ever stayed in a European youth hostel, you can picture the kind of room I’m in right now. It’s windowless and Spartan: twin beds, lumpy pillows, an ancient phone on a beat up nightstand between the beds. It’s cold in here because the air is cranked up too high, but there’s no thermostat. There’s also no clock. Time doesn’t matter here, and time also matters a great deal. The main difference between this room and a room at a cheap pensione in Florence is that when you step outside you’re not greeted by the picturesque banks of the Arno. This room is one of the two “sleeping rooms” in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Providence Pavilion for Women and Children in Everett, Washington, and I’m here because my baby is across the hall, hooked up to machines.

I was 35 weeks and 5 days pregnant when I woke up at 1:18 am.

“My water just broke,” I said to Flo, and my heart sank. They had told me several days prior that I should “chill out” and “take it easy,” when I visited labor and delivery to talk about the symptoms I was having, which felt suspiciously like pre-term labor. I did do things differently: I stopped going to the gym. I started doing dishes while sitting on a bar stool (for what it’s worth, we should all be doing this. It’s comfortable.) But at the same time, a small voice inside me was egging me on: reminding me to finish little tasks, to tidy up loose ends. By Saturday, I was walking through Safeway with Ladybug slower than I’ve ever walked anywhere. I almost could have predicted I’d go into labor that night. But I was at the grocery store, because we needed milk. (It’s currently turning into yogurt in the fridge. Turns out, we’d never drink the milk after all.)

Regardless, there I was at 1:18 am, trying to be clearheaded about what to do next. I packed a few things (real talk: mostly snacks) and tried calling a couple of friends before realizing that Ladybug would be joining us at the hospital. Unsurprisingly, she was thrilled. She had already packed a bag in case she needed to stay at a friend’s house. But staying at the hospital? Even better. (The next morning she did head to a friend’s for the day, and stayed there that night as well. I’m all for including the family in life events, but I don’t need to be managing a five-year-old between earth-shattering contractions.)

Earlier that week I had gotten a pregnancy update email (baby was the length of a head of Romaine lettuce at that point, I think) which highlighted the need to map out the best route to the hospital. Flo and I giggled about this, thinking back on our interminable drives to and from UCLA Medical Center as we waited for Ladybug to arrive. To get to PeaceHealth Ketchikan, by contrast, the directions were straighforward: turn left out of driveway. Turn right on Carlanna Lake Road. Turn left into the ER. It took us a minute and a half to get there from our house, where we parked steps from the entrance of the ER by a sign that said “Reserved for Patients.”

I will not bore you with my birth story. Was it Chekhov who said, “Every happy family…?” Forget it, I just googled the phrase and will spare you my version (it’s Tolstoy, by the way. Also Russian, so arguably I was close.) “All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” This is true for childbirth too. Every birth story is unique and gnarly and often funny, and the ones that go haywire are unhappy in their own ways. But if you’ve heard one birth story you kind of get the idea: the built-in spoiler alert is that it ends with the birth of a baby. As wild as the story may be, the ending is almost universally the same. All I will say is that Flo and I were holding our son at 5:43 pm, sixteen hours after we packed up our little bag and our little girl and left for the hospital. I am in love with the name we chose for him, but for the purposes of this blog he will be known as Bronson. (Long story. Ask Flo.)

Anyway, in our case it wasn’t labor and delivery that made for the interesting story. A few hours after birth, after the little man had crawled his way up my chest like his sister had done and rooted around for some dinner, the nurses noticed he was struggling to breathe. So began several days of cannulas in his nose to send air more easily to the lungs, and then an IV drip to regulate his blood sugar, and then a 24-hour moratorium on breastfeeding so he wouldn’t aspirate, and then and then and then. In the same way that they say one intervention in labor can lead to a snowball effect, it felt as though Bronson was encountering more and more obstacles day by day. But he seemed well enough by Thursday morning that we were talking about being discharged the next day. Then he stopped breathing. He was in my arms in the tiny nursery—he’d been in my arms most of the night—and he suddenly seemed sleepy. The night shift nurse stared hard at the monitor, adjusting the leads that connected him to it. Within moments, our quiet night together turned loud, bright, busy. A team of nurses, doctors, anesthesiologists, respiratory specialists—they all got to work, drawing blood, inserting a new IV, pumping air back into his lungs. It was quickly decided we would need to be medevaced to to a bigger facility with a proper NICU, which meant Flo raced home to pack me a bag. Ladybug and I cried softly in each other’s arms.

Bronson and I were loaded onto an ambulance, which drove onto the airport ferry, which then headed around the backside of the airport to a police escort and a waiting Lear jet. Bronson’s tiny body was dwarfed by the enormity of his incubator. The kind man who worked for LifeMed and sat next to me on the plane briefed me on flying in a Lear jet: basically, it goes very fast, and might make you sick, and you’ll get there in no time.

The whole time we were in the air, I honestly felt like I was dying. I was semi-reclined (perhaps in a nod to my recently revoked status as a patient.) I couldn’t breathe well, and it felt as though the top of the plane was pressing down on my chest. I stared out the window at the clouds and drifted off, out of exhaustion and terror. I couldn’t see my baby, but partway through the flight, the EMT who was sitting next to him asked for my phone. She took a picture of my beautiful boy, his eyes open and bright. He seemed to be doing better than I was.

We landed in an airfield in Everett and a firefighter walked me to the bathroom in a huge hanger. The whole thing felt so absurd that I wanted to make a joke, but for once in my life I really couldn’t think of anything to say. So I said thank you. En route to the hospital, the ambulance driver pointed through the window at the largest building in the world (so he said); a huge sign on the front of it said Boeing. I felt like I did the first time I stepped off the subway in Tokyo—that everything was big, foreign, pulsing with life in a language I didn’t understand. Bronson had another apnea episode when we arrived at the hospital but I wasn’t there to see it. I had been shunted upstairs to Admitting, where a woman who looked exactly like Iris Apfel spent ten minutes misunderstanding our primary insurance. (I think it’s in the middle of Mr. and Mrs. Smith that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt get into an elevator and hear The Girl From Ipanema; after a few seconds of calm and muzak, they get to the next floor and step out, guns blazing. This is what it felt like in Admitting.) Soon, though, I was back downstairs, staring into Bronson’s room as a soft spoken doctor stood next to me and plied me for information about what had happened. I turned to him.

“To be clear,” I said, asking the thing I realized I’d been wondering all day. “This isn’t a question of, ‘My baby may not make it.’ Right…?”

“No,” he said firmly. “He will be fine.”

Still. After my baby settled down for the night, his room buzzing with machines, his body a tangle of wires, I wandered across the hall to the sleeping room and made a few sobbing phone calls. I was decidedly not okay, because I was pretty sure my baby wasn’t either.

That was ten days ago. It’s been two weeks since I glanced around my living room to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, turned off the lights and drove away. Two weeks since I wandered the halls of PeaceHealth Ketchikan, looking through the windows at the wintry darkness between mind bending contractions. Two weeks since they said, “Pushpushpushpushpushpush,” and I did and I did and I did and then I held a small red-faced boy in my arms and cried. Two weeks of living in hospitals, he and I — and things seem easier. I chatted with a couple of nurses just now, using words I didn’t know two weeks ago, talking diagnoses and comparing the opinions and temperaments of attending neonatologists. Bronson can breathe on his own, though we’re still figuring out the root cause of his problem, which (it’s becoming clear) may extend beyond his prematurity and into something congenital or structural. Stay tuned; when I know, you’ll know. He’s eating, and sleeping, and pooping, and generally doing all the things babies do.

The other day, Flo smiled a little when he saw the blankets in the sleeping room. (He and Ladybug and my mom are staying at a Hampton Inn a few blocks away, which feels like the premise of a bad sitcom.) “We used to have these blankets in our house,” he said. This baby, our baby, who lives in a crisp clean room in a state of the art hospital — his grandfather raised five children as a single dad cleaning hospitals like this one. Our little guy has his middle name. There’s been so much talk in the last few years about privilege, but I’ve come to realize from this experience that privilege extends beyond race, class, gender, and so much else that we’ve addressed in the conversation. Privilege extends to access. Privilege extends to the ability to be relieved of pain and suffering. (That is, at least as far as medically possible.) Privilege means a shared language, and the ability to speak up for ourselves. Privilege gives us a window to look through: we can choose to see all the beauty others seem to have that we have been denied, or we could recognize the beauty we ourselves have been given that others may not have access to. All we have to do is open the window, and breathe. It’s the breathing, of course, that is the hard part. But we’re working on it.

[letsdothistom]

Jan. 4th, 2019

So, who the hell is Tom you may ask? Well, let me tell you about Tom.  Tom is a short, skinny, late 20‘s, early 30‘s guy with a big smile.  He’s a pretty handsome dude, with dark hair on his slightly large head.  I don’t know a whole lot about Tom, such as his last name, or what kind of car he drives, but I do know a few basic details.  I  know that he is from Michigan, still vacations there with his family (whom I know nothing about), and he hates how thick the flies get in Michigan come late summer.  Tom likes Nike shoes.  He doesn’t walk with a limp or wear an earring, or wear cowboy boots.  That last one is really just a guess. But Tom may have saved my life.  Not in so much as dragging me from a burning vehicle, or rescuing me from drowning or even fighting off a grizzly bear that was attacking me.  None of those things happened.  Tom also didn’t deliver me to religion, walk me through a twelve step program, or give me the Heimlich.  Nope, none of those things.  What Tom did was give me courage when I needed it most. Ya see, on July 23rd, 2018 I had a heart attack.  Des Moines, Iowa, taking photos, walking my basset hound Lionel (who was absolutely no help at all) and thinking about what I was going to have for dinner. Tom was my anesthesiologist.  After a rough week or so in the hospital, being transported to Denver, from Cheyenne, WY in the wackiest ambulance ride ever (a topic for another blog entry) things were looking a little bleak.  My heart was working at about 10 percent and I very easily could have been taking a dirt nap.  The deep sleep.  Six feet under.  Pushing up Daisies. As you can imagine spirits weren’t at an all-time high.  Of course my family was all there and being supportive.  We aren’t ones to really sugar coat much of anything, which was much appreciated, but I know it was tough on us all.  There was Kate, my wife, sleeping on the hospital couch night after night, my emotional sister Heather, my stalwart mom, Betty, always the trooper and in her wheel-house during these tough times (in spite of just having surgery for breast cancer), and my happy-go-lucky brother Jon, who always has a smile on his face.  Of course my in-laws were there (dealing with their own medical issues) and all the better halves, cousins, and of course the medical team that consisted of at least enough doctors to fill out the starting offensive side of a football team.  Add in the nurses and other medical staff and you could fill an entire 52 man NFL roster.   While I‘ve never really been one to worry much, and I don‘t really get down on myself or events in my life, I certainly would never consider myself to be courageous.  I’m scared of heights, can’t swim, and don’t even care for the dark.  But I also know that I’m a pretty strong big-picture guy when the chips are down.  I was gonna need to summons all the strength I could if I was going to get through all this.  I was going to have to find a little courage. Every single person there played a huge role in keeping me alive and having the most positive attitude I could have in those circumstances.  We played card games, Jon brought me hand-held football and baseball (still two of the sweetest games you will ever find), and probably the thing our family does best, reminisce about good (and some bad) times.  All that said, let me tell you, it aint easy to stay upbeat even for a good natured guy like myself.  Shit was getting REAL! After scores of doctors and tests, advice from medical staff, support from my family, encouraging words from tons of friends, the time of reckoning was quickly approaching.  Open heart surgery.  For those who haven’t experienced it (looking back, I wouldn’t recommend it), it is a daunting, terrifying moment in time and flat out scary as hell! It’s the day before surgery, and here comes this jolly (although not like Santa Claus, as I said, Tom is skinny), smiling, whistling-a-tune young guy with not a care in the world.  Meet Tom.  Tom introduced himself as my anesthesiologist and started to chat with me like we were old friends.  Well, you get all kinds.  I had doctors who tried easing my concerns, I had doctors who flat out scared me, I had doctors who didn’t really know what to say.  But Tom was none of these.  Tom just talked.  Tom asked me about myself.  Tom told me about how he was going on vacation in a few days with his family, back to Michigan where he and his wife were from.  Tom told me about how he was going fishing but was a little worried about the flies, because sometimes in August in Michigan they were so thick that you couldn’t concentrate on the act of actually fishing.  Apparently you spent the entire time swatting flies.  Tom was just Tom, and I liked him. Fast forward to 3:30 a.m day of open heart surgery.  OPEN HEART SURGERY!  I still can hardly believe it.  Surgery is set for 5:30 a.m. with Dr Reese; another awesome cat.  I’ve had absolutely no sleep, partially because of the crazy ass people from the sleep study place who came in to put a mask on me to help with sleep apnea at 1:00 a.m. but more likely because its a scary ass feeling not knowing if this is the last time you will ever go to sleep!  Or see your loved ones.  Or listen to music (yes Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue got a workout that night).  Or anything else for that matter.  If that shit doesn’t scare you, you are a badass MFer.  Or a liar. The cleansing, disinfecting shower/bath thing...that’s the low-point.  At least for me.  Anyone who has experienced it, knows my dread, knows my fear.  This is it.  The time is here... I woke up.  Well that may be an overstatement.  It was more of a...well...I can’t explain it.  No possible way for me to put into words the shitty, horrid, awful way I felt.  “Woke up” is the best I can do.   This funny tube thing in my throat and the worst saliva issue ever.  No one but Leeds in the room (Leeds is my moms Thelma to her Louise).  I don’t know where I am at, but I am here; someplace.  I don’t know if I’ve been in a coma for weeks, or if I’ve dreamt the whole shitty experience but I hear things, I see things, I feel like shit, but I am HERE! Back to 5:00 a.m.  Bath/shower thing has been taken.  I’ve been wheeled in the bed down to the operating room waiting area.  Jon and Kate sitting in the chairs next to me, waiting.  None of us know what to say.  We don’t really know how to act or what to feel.  I am scared.  And getting more scared by the minute.  Dr. Reese saunters in, Oklahoma through and through.  He asks how I am doing and tries to give me a bit of a pep talk, but frankly at this point I’m hearing but not listening.  All sorts of thoughts are racing around my mind.  Yep, the same things you would be thinking if in my shoes.  Dr. Reese says they are gonna run a line in my arm and the anesthesiologist will be there shortly.  All the dread in the world is running through me at this point.  I am trying to find courage.  Enter Tom. Smiling, pep-in-his-step, ready for his day, Tom.  I have no idea what the conversation entailed aside from the normal medical information talk.  I don’t know what I said, other than a few nervous, anxious stupid jokes about the situation.  Ridiculous, I know, but I had no control of anything at this point.  Tom just smiles.  A cheeky, knowing smile.  Tom chats back with me.  Tom tells me not to worry, it’ll be done in no time, and he’ll come check on me in ICU.  Tom just keeps on smiling.  Tom just keeps on being Tom.  As if we are old friends.  And I think of fishing in Michigan, and flies so thick you have to keep swatting them from your face. I don’t remember what really happened from that point until seeing Leeds sitting across my room reading.  No clue.  But I remember something changing midway through that conversation with Tom.  Something came to life in me and I didn’t have a care in the world.  My brother Jon said the last he saw of me was Tom wheeling me down the hallway towards the operating room, and hearing me say, “LET’S DO THIS TOM”. So to borrow from my niece Izzy, Lesson learned that day:  Have courage.  And if you don’t have courage, YOU BETTER EFFIN FIND SOME!