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felicitysmoaksx · 2 years

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Hi everyone! Thank you so much for your kind words on my last chapter! This is the first idea I had after the first fic in the Come Back Be Here series, but I could never plot it out into a full fledged fic in my head. And I know the multi-chapter now says complete, but like with Married But as Friends Series, I don’t know when those scenes will be written and don’t want to leave you all hanging!

Summary: At Downey’s request, a story during lunch reveals how Sarah and Connor met five years back.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mentions of a terminal illness, and almost sexual assault. (Though it doesn’t go into detail)

Read on AO3 | Series Masterlist | My Playlist for This Fic

But If I Took a Turn a Second Late?

“Hey, Dr. Downey,” Sarah’s smile was gentle as she entered the older man’s hospital room. To her credit, her smile remained genuine even when the man’s reality was anything but. In fact, the realization of the man’s reality was pretty grim with all the machines he was hooked up to, whirling and beeping in time with the doctor’s breathing and heartbeat. Still, her husband’s mentor smiled widely when she entered the room and repositioned his hospital bed, so he was sitting up more.

“Mrs. Rhodes,” the doctor greeted her by her married last name in a kindly tone, despite her many attempts to tell him that he could call her Sarah.

“So what is my favorite medical student up to today?” He asked her as she pulled his pull-out table toward the bed. She placed the tray of food she had carried from the cafeteria. She chuckled, “I bet you say that to all the medical students but I had a break, so I thought I’d come check on you and bring you lunch.”

She hadn’t got him anything special. With his cancer progressing the way it was, he could barely keep anything down these days. Or if he could keep it down, the chemo made everything have a weird taste to it, so she got him a very bland chicken noodle soup. If nothing else, it would keep him warm for a moment. She thought while she took a seat at the end of his bed. Her lunch of a homemade pasta salad Connor made for dinner the other night, when Downey had practically shoved them out the door, in front of her.

“You and your husband are too good to me.” Doctor Downey mused, picking up his plastic spoon.

“Agree to disagree,” Sarah said, taking a bite of her salad. But the elderly man shook his head, “Since I’ve been admitted for the long haul, you two have been here. If I don’t have you checking in on me one day, it’s him or vice versa. At night you don’t go home, instead, you both come here and spend the night. Until I have to kick the both of you out.”

“You think that’s for you?” Sarah joked with a slight chuckle, “That’s more for my sake than yours because really, I’m just following my pillow around. Because he tends to move around, despite my many attempts to keep him still. And without him, I don’t sleep and I don’t think you want to see me cranky.”

The joke had its intended effect as he chuckled, “No, I suppose not.”

Though that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Yes, she stayed because Connor stayed up here, worried for his mentor and because her husband didn’t want Downey to be by himself when…Sarah’s heart constricted. It was hard to imagine the world without the man in front of her. This man had taken not only Connor under his wing, but her in a way too.

It seemed so insignificant now. That they knew his terminal diagnosis was running down the clock. But it had still been Downey who had found her a month ago, in the midst of one of her many freakouts-this one about graduation approaching at an alarming rate-and it was Downey that didn’t try to calm her down like everyone (except for Connor or her roommate in medical school) else would’ve. Instead, the doctor had let her ramble. From her smallest worries to her biggest fears about the future. And when she was done, he didn’t try to reassure her either. Instead, he agreed with her about some of it and validated the rest even though Sarah was almost completely sure he didn’t agree with it. Then he distracted her by telling a story from his days in Hawaii.

Then there was the matter that she didn’t want Connor by himself when it happened. She had seen her husband grieve before. From losing a patient when a case hit just the right button to affect Connor (those usually happened after a phone call with his father) But she knew Connor like he knew her. Downey’s unfortunate but coming death would hit her husband hard. And she didn’t know how hard or how he’d react. It set Sarah’s nerves on edge, but Sarah wasn’t about to let Connor deal with his grief by himself. Therefore, Sarah was attached to his hip these days when they weren't on shift, despite his protests for her to go home and sleep in an actual bed or eat something that wasn’t from the hospital cafeteria.

“Can I ask you something?” Downey’s question pulled her away from thoughts of the near future.

“Sure,”

“I’ve always wondered how you and your pillow as you’re calling him, met, considering one of the very first things your husband told me about you was about your long-distance marriage.” He explained while nodding to her neck. Sarah looked down and sighed. She had been playing with her ring without realizing it. Something she did, no matter where it was on her chain or her hand when she was worried.

Sarah smiled gently. The story of how Sarah ghosted him months after they met, may have been Connor’s favorite. But the story of how they first met was hers.

5 Years Earlier

Connor growled as he tugged the tie off from around his neck and shoved the offending garment into the pocket of his suit jacket as he approached the bar. What a fucking shitty night. And it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. He was only in the city for one night. One night where he had to play the perfect Dolan Rhodes Department store heir. And he had thought he had been doing well, but then his father had to open his mouth. Long story short, Connor left early before the ice swan statue could get knocked over. (again and even though it was a year ago, Claire still wouldn’t let it go)

He probably should’ve gone back to his hotel. Drink himself into a stupor in peace and then he would wake up hungover for his flight the next morning. But the bar was only right down the street from where the gala was held. Not to mention cheaper than room service probably would’ve been. (Not like that was a big concern though. His father hadn’t cut him off. At least not yet. Though the threat had been put out there a few times now, Connor wasn’t concerned. He had a good job and thanks to his trust fund, he wasn’t paying off any medical school debt)

“Can I get whatever beer you have on tap?” He asked the bartender when he walked inside the building.

“Bottle or mug?” The woman looked up from where she was wiping down the bar.

“Bottle’s fine,” Connor answered, looking around the space. It was still early. For the bar crowd at least with only three other people here. An elderly couple, who seemed to be on a date sitting at a table near the back. And a girl, with curly brown hair flowing down her back, sitting at the other end of the bar.

The bartender set a bottle down in front of him and Connor handed her his ID. The woman nodded, accepting it and pushing it into her register. He’d get it back when he closed his tab. Nodding his thanks to the woman, Connor turned and took a large swig of his beer as he found a secluded table in the other corner of the room. Away from the elderly couple. He didn’t want to be happy. No, tonight he wanted to commiserate in his misery. Taking another swig, Connor shook his head and released a heavy sigh. What a fucking shitty night.

A few hours and another beer and a half later, Connor was feeling slightly better. (But that could just be the buzz he had going on.) The bar had picked up. The elderly couple left as more people came in. But the girl from earlier remained, with the same drink from earlier too, Connor noticed. Now Connor wasn’t trying to be creepy, watching this girl. But ten minutes ago, this older guy-not quite as old as the couple from before but definitely marginally older than both Connor and the girl at the bar-had walked in and zeroed in on the girl. He also wasn’t taking a fucking hint. So yeah, Connor kept an eye on the girl because it was the right thing to do, but he was also trying to let the girl take care of it herself. (Also because whoever did scheduling for this place really sucked. Because whoever did it had left the poor bartender alone on a Saturday night)

Dimly, Connor wondered if this was a regular occurrence and the man knew this. Because he only got in the girl’s space when the bartender was busy tending to someone. After thirty minutes of watching the girl try and side-step this guy nicely multiple times, (By his count five to be exact) Connor stood and made his way over to them.

“Hey Babe, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Connor looked at the girl, a grin plastered to his face. With the number of people in here, Connor was ninety-percent sure the man couldn’t know that he had been here the whole time. The girl realizing that Connor must be trying to help her escape gave a small smile in return. “I must’ve missed you when you came in, Babe.”

“Excuse me, we were-”

But Connor didn’t so much as glance in the man’s direction as he pointed his thumb in the direction of his table. “I got us a table back over there.”

She handed Connor her beer as she pushed herself off of the bar stool. Once she was standing, Connor wrapped an arm around her shoulders and directed her back to the table, away from the other man’s prying eyes.

“Thank you,” she spoke quietly after she sat down and because the guy was still watching them like a hawk, Connor took the seat beside hers. Their arms touched when one of them moved. “He just wasn’t taking no for an answer. No matter how many times I said or put it.”

“I kind of guessed. I had been watching after you told him no the first time,” Connor said, before realizing he was still holding her beer, “Oh sorry.”

He placed the beer back in front of her, “I’m Connor, by the way.”

“Sarah,” she introduced herself before she said, “And it’s okay. I don’t think I like beer much anyways.”

“Then why get it?”

“Because I’m celebrating. But I don’t really drink much so I wasn’t sure what to get.” Sarah explained, scratching at the label of her beer bottle. Well, that explained why she had the same drink since he had been here.

“What are you celebrating?” Connor found himself asking.

“Getting into Northwestern for medical school. And I would’ve asked my roommate to come with, but she had a date with her girlfriend and I didn’t feel like third-wheeling with them.”

His lip twitched upward as he scanned the menu above the bar, “Like calls to like it seems.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

“You just got into medical school and I’m going into my second year of residency,” he answered as his eyes found something. He glanced back at her, “You like ice cream-milkshakes?”

“Yeah,” she answered his question before asking one of her own, “You work at Lakeshore or Gaffney?”

Connor couldn’t help the chuckle because him? Working in Chicago? Yeah, that’d happen when hell froze over. “No, it’s a little farther out than that- in Riyadh. I’m just in Chicago for the night because of a family obligation.”

Her brown eyes widened, “Riyadh? If my high school geography classes serve me right, that’s on the other side of the world?”

“Yeah, but you can pick my brain about it in a minute,” Connor said standing and offering her his hand, “Right now, I need another beer and you deserve something you actually like for making it into medical school.”

A blush formed in Sarah’s cheeks. Connor thought she looked cute blushing like that. But she already had one creepy guy hit on her for the night; she didn’t need another.

“I’m going to put my hand on your back, if that’s alright,” Connor said quietly, flicking his blue eyes to where the old guy was still staring. He watched as her gaze followed his before blanching. She nodded. So he placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her to the bar.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Sarah said, still slurping at the enormous milkshake, filled with rum and vanilla ice cream, and a large amount of chocolate syrup.

He shrugged, “You just got into medical school.”

“So that means you pay my tab and buy my first alcoholic milkshake?”

Connor shrugged again. He didn’t mind. The bartender just assumed and combined Sarah’s tab with his when they ordered her milkshake and his next beer. Connor just didn’t correct her and when Sarah tried to protest, he waved her words away.

“If you want, you could count it as a belated birthday too.” He told her because according to her the date on her ID Sarah Reese's twenty-first birthday had passed about two months ago.

“I saw your ID when she handed it back to you.” He said, seeing the look of confusion in her adorable brown eyes. (Damn his thing for brown eyes.)

“Oh,” she blushed.

“Did you graduate college early? Because it’s been a little while but I know the approximate age I graduated was closer to twenty-three than it was twenty-one.”

“High school actually,” she told him. There was a lull then. But then Sarah glanced up at him, “So tell me, on a scale from one to ten, how bad is med school going to be?”

“Oh, your first year, you’ll be scared shitless. I was.” Connor chuckled, then it grew as Sarah’s face morphed into a mask of horror.

“That is not a comforting thought because you seem so much more confident than I am.” She said and Connor just threw his head back and laughed more.

“We ended up talking until the bar closed at four in the morning. And exchanged numbers before he left that night.” Sarah finished with an easy smile.

“So I guess the rest was history after the bar?” He asked. Sarah shook her head with a little self-deprecating laugh at her past self’s actions “Oh no. We didn’t talk for almost half a year after that. And it was entirely my fault on both ends.”

“What?” He asked, sounding a little shocked and Sarah laughed as her pager went off. Glancing at it, she saw Dr. Choi had a patient and wanted her help with their case. “Another story for another time, I’m afraid because it seems my break is up. In fact, ask Connor about it. It’s his favorite anyway. I’ll be back later okay? After I’m done with my shift. More than likely with my husband in tow.”

#Rheese #Chicago Med #One Chicago #Connor Rhodes #Sarah Reese #David Downey #Chicago Med Fanfiction #One Chicago Fanfiction #My Writing #Come Back Be Here Series

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meetmsrightxoxo · 3 years

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To say February was hell is an understatement. All month with work the customers were extra cranky and super entitled plus it was insanely busy every shift I worked the week of Valentine’s Day! I am also sick with an infection which caused me to spend twelve hours dealing with doctors and going to the emergency room because the stupid urgent care doctor overreacted and sent me there when all she had to do was do a vaginal exam like my primary doctor wanted her to do for me at urgent care in the first place! Ugh.

Time to get back on track with my personal, mental, emotional, and physical growth!

Ten years ago at sixteen years old, I had my first of eight major surgeries and the start of many future hospital stays and emergency room visits. Children’s Hospital Los Angeles and Henry Mayo hospital were basically my second homes. I didn’t have a specific illness causing me health problems. My body and immune system was really compromised and even confused the doctors on what could have been wrong with me. Then while dealing with my severe mysterious health issues and surgeries, I was forced to drop out of high school because the school district refused to work with me because since I “didn’t have a specific diagnosis” that couldn’t give me an IEP yet I had all these doctors notes and surgeries that required me to be hospitalized for at least six days each. At twenty years old while my health was rapidly declining my fiancé died in my house and I was the one to find him dead. I not only became sicker after that, I became a alcoholic after my fiancé’s friends blamed me for his death. I was blacked out drunk for four and a half months. It took my mom threatening to kick me out to make myself get my act together.

However, my health was still declining and the doctors were prescribing me hydromorphone every three hours for pain and was on fentanyl patches. Not only did my body become addicted to IV pain medication, I ended up becoming mentally addicted while my health was declining. In November of 2018 the night of thanksgiving, I desperately needed help to get off the pain medication addict train. The doctors wouldn’t help me get off the pain meds so I decided to quit cold turkey which was very dangerous, don’t ever just stop taking an opioid, you have to wean yourself off of it properly. My brain got so overwhelmed from the withdrawals, I fell into psychosis for three and a half months! My mom even retired from work early because the doctors told her there was a chance I was permanently mentally disabled for the rest of my life.

In case any of you don’t know what psychosis is, you know the homeless addicts you see talking to people that don’t exist on the streets? That’s an example of psychosis. Your brain’s conscious shuts down and your sub conscious basically takes over the drivers seat.

Magically one day after three and a half months of being in psychosis, my brain and my body flipped a switch and I wasn’t horribly sick anymore physically and mentally. Yes, I have to be medicated for anxiety, depression, and PTSD but I’m five million steps away from deaths doorstep now.

I have a job, I am back in school trying to get my diploma, I started this blog and developing a online store, and I’m working with non profits as a foster for animals!

Goodbye hellish February! March is going to be all about making progress working out and developing myself with my personal growth! February was only a bump in the road. Gotta stay focused and move forward!

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yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy · 3 years

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Adderall

So, a week and a half ago I FINALLY got my adult ADHD diagnosis and I finally got on Adderall. What is to follow is personal and only read if your interested, otherwise, have a nice day.

(I got diagnosed with a bunch of other scary shit but I been knew all of it and it tracks for the trauma I’ve been through so I wasn’t surprised)

Anyway, so my psychiatrist has me on a small 5 mg a day dose that I take in the morning.

So before Adderall, here was my day-

Wake up at 8, get my daughter to school by 8:20-8:30, come home and have a 50/50 chance of going back to sleep till 11 or noon or sit on the couch in a daze/heavy mental fog until about noon or 1pm. By 3, I realize I have half an hour before my kid get’s home from school and shit, I need to do something with my day before my husband harps on me for being a lazy slob sitting on my ass on the couch all day and doing jack squat (hello executive dysfunction) and by 4, my daughter is off the bus, I gotta get something ready for dinner, eat between 5:30-7 AND THEN my brain wakes up. At 8pm my mental fog clears, I have energy, I can write coherantly and can do things and I’ve gained momentum.

Problem was- I have to go to sleep by 9-10pm so I can wake up at 8 the next morning.

My natural circadian rhythm is being awake from noon to 3-4am and then sleep the rest of the time. and my “Sweet spot” for getting stuff done, house chores, writing, all of that happens between 10pm-3am. Which is impossible for me to achieve and still be a “normal functional adult”.

So in order to “function” on my husband’s and my daughter’s life schedule I have to be very, very heavily medicated to go to sleep just as my brain is waking up and building up steam and momentum. So much so that if I am not in bed by the time my meds hit, I will pass out wherever I am. And I take doses that would put any other person into a coma for at least three days, but I take it on a nightly basis and it STILL takes an hour to an hour and a half to finally succumb to the sleep. (if anyone wants to know exactly what I take and in what doses, let me know)

So now that I’ve been on Adderall for a week- here how it has drastically changed my life.

Wake up at 8, take Adderall by 8:15, I fully wake up but 8:30-8:35 and I’m alert and the fog clears by 8:50 and by 9am, I’m doing house chores and writing and getting shit done and getting things taken care of and it’s great, a process that normally takes most of my day is now shortened down to barely an hour, 45 minutes.

Here’s where it sucks.

Adderall, for me, wears off at 3pm. Normally when I would be “waking up” my brain is wearing down and shutting down and by 4 I am STRUGGLING. just trying to make dinner and trying to jump start my system and trying to recapture that momentum.

By 6-7pm I get very aggrivated and very frustrated with myself because there’s still more shit I want to do but the go juice is empty and I can not make myself do much of anything. I try to focus on something that usually soothes me- like knitting or crocheting or writing or refilling my many fountain pens. Nope- all those tasks that once brought me joy, get on my nerves, make me frustrated and aggrivated because I can’t fucking FOCUS ON JACK SHIT.

And by 8, my brain and my body are BEGGING, and I mean BEGGING, PLEADING, throwing a tantrum to go to sleep. I went to bed at 7:30pm because I was especially tired and very cranky bitchy the other night and was out by 8:15 and woke up at 8 feeling great and then proceeded to have a very nice rest of my day.

I did not expect myself to get so ANGRY when the Adderall wears off.

Is this normal? Is the anger part normal for anyone else? Like I’m partially afraid that if I tell my psychiatrist that I get HANGRY but without the hunger part when it wears off, she’ll pull me off of it completely and I don’t want that. I went through hell just getting this diagnosis and it’s helping but not enough. I’m supposed to meet with her again in a month. We’ll see how it goes from there.

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porloquevivoyo · 3 years

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Naturally up early and everyone is asleep. This hasn’t happened in awhile because Eva has been deciding to wake up at the crack of dawn.

Im sitting here at 35w and I can’t believe this is the last time I will see my body like this. The last time I will feel a baby move inside of it. Most of the time- I’m cranky about the aches and pains but I know I will miss this.

A lot has happened in the past month. My first two kids were easy easy pregnancies with absolutely nothing eventful. This baby has become a different story. Personally I feel normal. I feel great, the baby feels great, everything feels as it should. But technology does exist. We have officially detected both visually(via ultrasound) and audibly(via Doppler) a heart arrhythmia. My baby’s heart periodically drops to the 80s at random for a few seconds. Enough to make every person who has detected this tilt their head and say “huh that’s interesting.” That head tilt along with the audible sounds of a heart beating are almost seared into me with feelings of dread and worry. My brain now knows my baby will probably be just fine. And even if my baby needs a pacemaker (which is worst worst case scenario)- my baby will still be okay. But, because of this rare diagnosis, our plans of birthing at home have changed to birthing at a hospital. Im 35 weeks and that decision was reached this week. I’ve changed providers, put away all the homebirth supplies, started packing hospital bags, etc.

Probably one of the hardest decisions of my life. It was not made lightly. It was not made out of fear. It was not even made out of “my” risks because I’m still considered “low risk” and will birth with midwives at the hospital. But this time, my baby just needs to be close to people that are able to help if things go a little crazy or we find out that baby’s heart needs some support. I am well aware that this baby could literally never show this arrhythmia ever again and aware that even in labor things could go so smoothly that staying home would have been fine. Except I’m not willing to find that out. I don’t want to attempt a homebirth and end up traumatizing myself and my family with a sudden hospital transfer. I don’t want baby to be born and the heart is just not “keeping up” and I’m home. My first two kids never had this diagnosis or any. I truly believe the best place for my first two kids to be born was at home. But this time, it’s just not the hand we’ve been dealt. And I am the mommy. It’s my job to make the hard decisions to protect my babies and this- this just has to be done. I can’t risk my babys life. As much as it hurts because homebirth it got so attached to my identity- it’s silly. But maybe this had to happen for that reason too.

I can’t wait for baby to be born and share this baby’s very unique(to my family) birth story. I’m so excited to cuddle and hug this baby and hope this is “a bunch to do about nothing” as a few providers i have met with have said- and I’m okay with that. I hope that’s the case.

Ugh. Anyways I think I’m going to eat cereal before my kids decide wake up and either steal from my bowl or ask for their own in the middle of me enjoying mine 😂😂🙄

#huge brain dump on this early morning #personal #babee three

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maknaesdancersrappers · 4 years

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july 21

hello. july 21 is a special day for me and you dont have to read this because its just me venting out my thoughts and emotions as long as i can without word/character limits on any platform.

july 21 is my maternal grandmother’s birthday. when i was born, my mom went abroad often and my dad had the regular 9 to 5 job plus extra hours for commute. so growing up with my sisters who are 5 and 7 years older, our grandparents and aunts took care of us.

im also more fond of my maternal grandmother since my paternal grandmother lived far away and we rarely ever get to see her (usually only during summers and once she stayed with us for awhile) until she passed away from Alzheimer's.

during the long hiatus i took early this year (late december to mid-march?), a lot has happened in my life. my health was put at risk because of the ash fall brought by the volcano eruption (january 12); i had allergies for weeks - i couldnt breathe properly, let alone sleep because of it. it was about to be the second year after graduating college and i have yet to get a job; the pressure from my family - and myself - was so unbearable that i caught myself slipping back to my very, very, very dark thoughts. and the worst thing that happened in those three months: my grandmother passed away. in filipino, grandmother is lola (loh-lah) and i’d like to use that for the rest of this post.

if you ask anyone in their neighborhood, any of our family friends, and relatives, everyone will tell you that her death was sudden. because everyone knows her as the sometimes-funny-sometimes-cranky old lady that owns the convenience store at the corner of the street. she was 96. she was 96 but she refused to get a wheelchair or use a walking stick even though her knees started to hurt after a few steps. she was 96 but didn’t need glasses to read most of the time. she was 96 but didn’t have any maintenance medication. ever since she reached her 90′s, she had gone to the town clinic at least twice because she fell over (from loss of balance) and busted her head. yet she would walk the next day like she doesnt have stitches on her scalp. she hated going to the doctor, she’d always claim that nothing hurts and the only thing she wanted the doctor to fix was her hearing (its as weak as how her eyesight is clear)

i wasnt the only one in the family that got severely affected by the ash fall. my lola also had trouble breathing because of it. she also went to the doctor for it and they only prescribed her antibiotics. please remember this info. this should be around early february

she got a little better but her voice was very hoarse from the phlegm. even before this, lola had little to no appetite and would only eat when someone else is eating (usually if it’s us, her granddaughters). and by little to no appetite, i mean her whole meal would be three spoonfuls of rice and one piece/chunk of whatever the main dish/ulam is. whenever we ask if she had eaten (even though we know she hadnt) she’d always claim that she already has (this eventually became a little joke in our family.) we took this sign as her dementia getting worse (although she was never really diagnosed with it, we had naturally assumed it because she would always repeatedly tell us stories that she insists happened even though some have been debunked and there were times she forgets our names if we havent visited in a while.)

after she gets better from the cough (idk the real diagnosis of it), her legs started to swell and because her routine had been reduced to being bedridden for most of the day, my aunts thought it was just poor circulation. it took two weeks before they brought her back to the town clinic and again, they just prescribed her with some medicine. everything after this is blurry to me until feb 21

my mom, being the eldest, made the decision to bring lola to the hospital. she’s, rightfully, unsatisfied with the town doctor’s diagnosis and prescriptions because lola is in so much pain and her legs were still swollen and its been weeks. i was with her in the emergency room while my mom and aunt did the paper work and the staff ran tests on lola. i’m contacting my sister who was in singapore and we’d video call to entertain lola since she was very adamant - and vocal - that she did not want to be admitted to the hospital bc she was “fine.” goSh she made so many hospital staff laugh because she would always announce whenever she had to fart. after like 2 hours, we move her into a ward and my mom tells me that i’ll have to stay overnight to watch over her. i was very apprehensive of this idea. i honestly did not want to. seeing her in pain was bad enough, but the fact we were in a room with other people and she was crying out loud made me really anxious but it was final. my mom, aunt, and uncle all went back home just to have dinner and they’ll come back since lola’s doctor would be coming by to give the results and for that hour they were gone? i lost it.

lola started talking/praying out loud, asking god why she was in so much pain, asking what she had done to deserve this; and i didn’t know what to do but hold her hand and kiss her head. i couldn’t even show her i was crying. when my mom got back, i told her i cant do it and she eventually convinced my other sister to join me, who cancelled her plans for the next day. that night, i did not and could not fall asleep. after a few hours, her doctor finally came by and dropped a bomb on us. he was kind enough to talk to my mom and aunt behind the curtains in the softest voice ever while i helped the nurse with lola, but i could hear him crystal clear.

cancer of the liver.

they even momentarily walked back to lola to touch her stomach and stepped back out. i almost thought i misheard, but my mom and aunt’s expressions were too grim that it basically confirmed it. later on, my mom finally told me and explained that the antibiotics she had been taking weeks ago were too strong for her because of her lifestyle and diet. there were tumors in her liver and surgery wouldn’t do anything. i dont remember what i did aside from sketching on the journal i brought, but until i got home at 10am the next day, i did not sleep a wink.

feb 22. when i woke up at 2PM, i was told that they had lola discharged from the hospital. there was nothing we could do but try to ease the pain to the best of our abilities and wait. starting that day, i went over to lola’s house to help out with feeding her, giving her medicine, and just trying to keep her happy by randomly smiling at her when i see her looking around or dancing to no music.

feb 24. these were the early weeks of covid - ph hadn’t had a case yet, i believe, but travel restrictions were being implemented. my sister in singapore was doing everything to make sure she could come home because we don’t know when, but we know lola was leaving soon. of all the things our mom told her not to do, she cried at the entrance of the embassy and by the grace of god, someone took pity and listened to her (bc she was denied entry since she had a small cough) and she was able book a flight at midnight and be home in 4 hours. that afternoon, when i arrived at lola’s house, that was the very first time i stood at the doorway to greet her like i usually did and she didn’t smile. not even the corners of her lips moved. she was in that much pain that she couldn’t even greet me back like she always did, which was to smile and nod her head. that night, we all decided to sleepover there (with the exception of my dad since he had to feed our dogs at home). i take my usual seat in the living room and i notice a white dress that i remember (from photos) being lola’s 50th anniversary wedding gown and without being told, i know it was what she was going to wear for the very last time.

feb 25. being notoriously a late sleeper, i was about to go to sleep at 2AM when i hear lola groaning and whining out loud. when i checked her, her stubborn lil ass was trying to get out of bed alone!!! so i obviously panic and try to wake up anyone by exclaiming that lola had to go to the bathroom - she’s been wearing adult diapers for weeks now but refuses to go in them and is adamant about bringing her to the bathroom so she could relieve herself - so me, and the same aunt and uncle from the hospital, assisted her into this modified chair so she could pee and the only thing i could do was hold her hand, like always. after that, my uncle said he’d watch over her and lie down beside her on the bed so in case she needs to go again, he can take care of it himself. after falling asleep, i heard a few hours later that my sister from SG arrived. when i woke up later on, my sisters and i presented ourselves to lola bc its been so long since she last saw us complete, and this time she was able to give us a small nod of acknowledgement. i realized that none of my uncles and aunts went to work that day, thinking it was just so we could be complete since my sister was home. but then i overhear them making plans to have a priest come over for the sacrament of anointing of the sick - which based on my last and only experience (my grandfather/lolo), this must be the day. during the session, a few of my aunts and an uncle cried. my sisters cried, too, but i forced myself not to. when the priest left, i don’t know how long, but suddenly, she was gone. i didn’t know how to react. this was the second time i’ve seen someone pass away before my very eyes. everyone was crying out for forgiveness, kissing lola’s head, but i couldn’t move one bit. i was finally crying, but i couldn’t move at all.

3 days. from learning about the real problem with lola, it only took 3 days for it to take her away from us. not even a week, or a month. the only bright side to this was that she’s finally relieved of all the pain that’s been causing her suffering. 3 days of knowing her time was very, very short, but it was still a shock when she finally left.

for the longest time, lola’s goal was to reach the age of 100 because apparently our government will reward her with 100,000 pesos (like 2k usd) for doing so. she wanted to reach 100 because she wanted to leave us with some inheritance haha. and everyone believed she could do it. no one doubted her. until this happened. maybe its just me, but i feel foolish... completely stupid and ignorant for knowing deep down in my heart that she would reach 100 that losing her 3 years prior her goal hurt me more than ever.

it’s been 5 months but remembering her death still makes me cry. i have dreams (and you all know im a lucid dreamer) where she’s still alive and we’re talking about how she beat cancer at 96 in just a few months, but then i’ll remember that she didn’t and the dream in front of me just shatters and i’ll wake up empty and crying. i have never felt so much regret after she passed bc all she wanted was to see me graduate and it was up to me to show her that i got my first job and give her a portion of my first salary, but i couldn’t even do that. i waited too long and now its too late. her ideal type for me was a rich atenean boy who could drive 😂 and i still couldn’t give her that bc im so anti-men. there was a time i was so scared to go back to lola’s house bc she called me out during dinner - “baket ka malungkot/why are you sad?” - when all i was doing was browsing through my phone, scarily enough going through another “episode”, and the last person i’d ever want to know about my possible depression was her. of all my suicidal episodes, i’ve always resolved them by thinking of her - that i will continue living because i wanted to see her smile. because i wanted to see her happy.

i miss her so much. i wish i had been a better granddaughter to her. the small things i’ve done for her were never enough. in the past 5 months, i’ve only dreamt about her twice (actually being with her) and both times made the day so hard to function. i havent moved on and i dont know if im the only one. i dont know if i’ll ever move on. she would have been 97 today. whenever she forgets my name, i’ll tell her i have the same birthday as her and she’ll remember me. she’ll say “ahhh rosean! july 10!”

if someone read through this, im sorry you had to go through that mess. but thank you for hearing me out. no, i’ll thank you the way my lola would thank people, verbatim:

thank you very much from the bottom of my heart.

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mymelodyheart · 4 years

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Forget Me Not Chapter 13 ~Girls Gone Bad~

Claire's footsteps echoed off the hallway that led to the hotel's kitchen, high heels clicking along the tiled floor. Running late for the staff meeting she had scheduled for the service and kitchen personnel, she didn't bother hurrying as she couldn't care less. With her hands full with catering contracts for special events and the preparation for the grand re-opening, she had been in a foul mood for the last few days. Her temper was amplified even more that morning when she dropped her contact lenses on the floor, sending her into fits of frustration when she couldn't find them, leaving her with no choice but to wear her glasses instead. Seeing her reflection earlier in the bathroom mirror, made her wince. Her black-rimmed specs reminded her of high school. Definitely not good memories to bring up considering the state of her frayed nerves.

Over the last few days, she went through varying degrees of annoyance initially stemming from two police officers paying her a visit.

"Miss Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp?"

"Umm, hello. Yes, that's me. What can I do for you, officer?"

"We would like to question you on behalf of the National Fraud Intelligence Bureau about the crowdfunding site you set up for a French national by the name of Annalise de Marillac. There has been..."

"I beg your pardon? Fraud Bureau? Did I do something illegal?"

"Miss Beauchamp, there's been a complaint against your person by an anonymous tip-off at the Cyber Crime Reporting Centre. You are being accused of false representation to commit fraud. Can we please come in?"

As it turned out, her good intention to raise money for Annalise via a crowdsourcing website had garnered a lot of attention and raised a lot of money. Unfortunately, it had also led to some prankster calling the police and reporting her scheme as fraudulent. The matter was momentarily resolved when Jamie and Willie intervened and brought down Annalise for questioning. The French girl was in tears explaining to the officers of her condition and the kindness shown by the Fraser family and Claire, and eventually, presenting them proof with her diagnosis papers.

When Annalise had been excused after she complained of tiredness and headache, the police officers, obviously still not satisfied, remained to delve further as to why someone would accuse Claire of fraud. That's when everything imploded when Willie, hesitant and nervous at first, told the officers of the death threats that were in her Facebook inbox and how he came to know about it. Oh, how mad she was and madder, even more, when she found out Jamie knew about it, the means and ways Willie had log into her Facebook to play detective as if it wasn't bad enough he had screenshot her private messages.

After the police officers left, satisfied that no fraudulent act was committed, more revelations came forth from Jamie and Willie, only because she had been seething with anger and looking at them like they were a couple of red flags to a bull. As if they were two wee lads caught with their hands in the cookie jar, they compunctiously admitted to everything. They told her of their suspicions and suspects, their plan to get the family's lawyer, Ned Gowan involved, and their initial intention to keep her in the dark for her protection. Willie even explained his plan to take Annalise to the doctor himself the following morning, and discreetly stop by Ned Gowan's office to have her medical papers and story investigated for their validity.

Not that their concern was lost on her and that she felt a bit hypocritical for not telling Jamie about the messages she had been receiving for the last few months. She had her reasons. Bloody good ones too!

She'd always loved Jamie's compassionate side, but deep down, she had a sneaking suspicion that his infatuation with her was based on his need to rescue an underdog. Wasn't that was she had been throughout her childhood? Wasn't that why he had been in a relationship with Annalise? She was totally convinced the French girl reminded him of her, a victim of the injustices of life and its unfairness. By resolving to prove she wasn't anyone's rescue mission, Claire was courting the eventuality Jamie will realise she didn't need saving anymore. The fear of him loving her under false judgement was greater than Jamie losing interest when he realised she didn't need rescuing.

In her travels, during the past six years, Claire had come into her own, pushing herself to face her fears and insecurities by tempting fate with her adrenaline laced adventures. Bungee jumping, white-water rafting, rock climbing, ziplining and hopefully , soon sky diving. The taunts and bullying she had endured in school had given her nightmares and self-doubts. But as she grew older, she wanted to rise above all the negativity and prove to herself she was more than her vulnerabilities and flaws, hoping, if her real parents could see her, they would be proud. Her travels had liberated her in a lot of ways, and she wasn't about to fall back into the victim status or be made to feel like one, now that she was back in Lallybroch, surrounded by memories of incessant bullying from her schooldays.

Feeling humiliated and for the sake of self-preservation, she had left Lallybroch with Geillis in Brian's spare car, needing space and time to gather her thoughts. She needed to if she didn't want her self-esteem knocked down a peg or more again. Maybe Annalise's coming into their lives would be an eye-opener, and despite the jealousy that seared her guts, her anger refused to blame the whole situation on the French girl, whether she was genuinely sick or not. There's a truth in the saying, the truth will set you free, but first, it will piss you off.

On the night she left Lallybroch without Jamie, he had nevertheless followed them to her and Geillis' rented house and stayed the night and the nights after that in the spare bedroom, when she wouldn't let him into hers. Secretly she had been pleased he didn't stay in Lallybroch knowing that his bedroom would have been next to Annalise.

Unfortunately, on days like today, when a storm of cloud was riding low above her head and following her everywhere she went, missing Jamie in or out of her bed didn't improve her disposition. Ever since her first sexual encounter with him, she felt she had become needier, constantly having this ache within her that only their lovemaking can ease. Now she was walking around feeling horny, which made her even more cranky as her pride wouldn't allow her to reconcile with Jamie just yet. She needed to be in the right frame of mind, and the mounting work at the hotel wasn't helping at all. Maybe when Ned Gowan had presented them his secret investigation report, could the matter be put to rest.

Think about it later. When you're done with work. Claire took a deep, fortifying breath, the same one she took before a bungee jump. Clutching a stack of papers, on the one hand, she wrapped her other hand around the doorknob and let herself into the staffs' canteen where the service and kitchen personnel were waiting.

"Beauchamp! Ye're late!" Chef Murtagh roared. A dour-looking middle-aged man with dark facial hair and in a crisp kitchen uniform glowered at her as she entered the room.

She heard two metal chairs scrape against the floor, and in her periphery, saw Jamie and Willie stand, about to pounce to her defence. Giving them the laser death glance, they both sat back down. She was quite sure Murtagh gave them the same treatment but she thought hers were probably more effective. What the hell did they think? I was going to howl and cry?

Her position as an F&B manager was not a given, and she knew Brian gave her that post because he had every confidence in her to fulfil her role. Despite the family's financial health, there had been no freebies in the Fraser household. Laziness or entitled attitudes had not been tolerated.

"Haud yer wheesht! " Claire snapped, shushing Murtagh in her best mimick of Scot's dialect, making the rest of the meeting's attendee giggle, if not quietly, a tad nervously, as she walked in purposely. Seriously? God, that felt good, though. "So what are you going to do about it, Murtagh? Scream me into disappearing? Thanks to you, all the paperwork in F and B office are in shambles. You probably scared the bejesus out of my predecessors with your screaming and your lousy temper." She slammed the stacks of paper on the table beside her.

It was true, Murtagh's demeanour can be quite intimidating, but she knew him well enough after having spent her teenage years helping around the hotel. And the fact that he was the Frasers' siblings' godfather helped. But Brian and Ellen couldn't entirely begrudge him for scaring a lot of their young managerial recruits, as he was the best of the best when it came to culinary art. He had brought prestige and name to Fraser Manor Inn's kitchen, including three Michelin stars, placing their wee village on the map.

Murtagh was still glowering at her, but she saw a spark of amusement flash in his eyes. Maybe she'd imagine it. "Just stating the obvious," he barked. Definitely, his bark is worse than his bite.

"Well, state less of it," she retorted, resulting in some of the service staff to gasp. "This is my meeting in case you needed reminding." Glancing at the back of the room, she noticed Brian's and Ellen's presence, observing the whole scene with a smirk on their faces. They were obviously glad she didn't back down on Murtagh. Probably relieved too as they've had three F&B managers quit on them during the last two years. "Moving along..."

She handed photocopied sheets of papers to the staff in the front row to pass along as she briefed them with the menu for the re-opening as well as new dishes for the a la carte. Knowing Murtagh would protest with her latest additions, Claire cut to the chase. "I've made a few changes to the a la carte menu. It's part of keeping up the with the times."

Murtagh ripped off his chef's hat from his head. "Hang on a minute. Ye cannot make changes without consulting me. People come from far and wide to taste my food."

Claire sighed but didn't retreat. "With all due respect, I am not challenging your ability to produce a culinary masterpiece, but we cannot serve the same dishes as we did for the last ten years. There are a lot of new and upcoming talented chefs in Scotland who have bolder and brighter ideas." Not wanting to disregard Murtagh's talent, she continued. "You are a great cook, Murtagh and you can bring out the best in your young team. They have ideas too, and I want to see them. Food enthusiasts have more discerning taste these days and are on the lookout for something different and exciting. I intend to maintain the vision of what you have created here, but we need to modernise if we want to be ahead of the game. We've modernised the kitchen and the restaurant, now it's time we do the same for our dishes."

Almost everyone in the room nodded in agreement except for the Head Chef, but she knew Murtagh will come around once his temper had subsided. Hopefully, soon as Claire didn't want to have to fight him on a daily basis. He may be stubborn, but she knew already he would take the changes she made as a challenge and recreate the dishes she had suggested with his own twist and magic. Without any more interruptions, the meeting concluded an hour and a half later, much to her relief. And to her surprise, her earlier annoyance seemed to have dissipated, feeling the weight lifting off her shoulders.

"Ye did well, Sassenach." She didn't notice Jamie had come up from behind as she gathered her things. "I'm so proud of ye."

She turned around to see him standing so close, the hair at her neck moved with his warm breath. "Jamie, I'm ..."

"Ssshh, I'm so sorry for everything, Claire. I missed us so much. Can we start again?" Her eyes closed involuntarily when he stroked her cheeks. "I'd like to spend some time with ye later after work. I ken we're living under the same roof, but we might as well be living apart every time ye disappear into yer bedroom every night."

Seeing the longing overwhelming his beautiful face, she felt her bones melt, and she swayed closer. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I love him so much. She was tired of pushing him away. "I'd love that, Jamie."

Relief showing in his eyes, his thumb came up to trace the bottom of her lip. "Good," he whispered, his gaze dipping to her mouth. "I dinna ken what time I'll be finished. I'm making a few trial desserts for ye to taste tomorrow. Maybe, I'll bring it home tonight instead and feed ye. Ye can give me yer verdict then."

"I can't wait." She wanted to say so much, but his closeness was distracting her a lot, making the words she was formulating in her head become jumbled. Mouth inches apart, they were breathing into each other's space. "I-I'll, see you later then."

"Aye." He moved quickly, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and letting it go with a pop. "Go now before I carry ye out of here." He pushed her gently away and slapped her bottom, chuckling softly.

Her face blushing profusely, she quickly left the room, before she too got carried away. We have time tonight.

..........

Later on the evening, Jamie texted Claire he would be home later than expected. Without it being mentioned, Claire knew he would be stopping by Lallybroch after work to check on Annalise.

Sighing, she joined Geillis who was perched on the kitchen bar stool. She had Latin jazz playing in the background, as she opened a bottle of Tequila she had brought back from a holiday in Mexico a year ago.

Claire nodded when Geillis offered her a shot. They had been both busy that day helping the service staff at the hotel prepare the banquet hall for the grand re-opening gala dinner. Knowing Jamie won't be home for another two hours or more, she needed to get out of the house. The last few nights, when she was not at work, had been spent cooped up in her room.

Ever since she found out about the death threats, Jamie and Willie had asked her, more like prohibited, not to go to the pub or anywhere at night on her own. Even if she was to be accompanied by Geillis and it was only down the road from their residence, they insisted it wasn't wise. They begged until she agreed to do as she was told, at least until Ned Gowan came up with something concrete from his investigation or one of the brothers was there to accompany her.

Geillis had been an angel, bless her, and had stayed with her most nights, either watching TV or playing board games. But with the Grand Re-Opening, two nights away, Claire badly wanted to unwind and let her hair loose, but not within the confines of her four walls.

A few shots later, tipsy and giggling, they decided to get dressed and walk down the pub, after scribbling a note for Jamie. To hell with it if Jamie got mad. She needed this, and the pub was just down the road. We live in a small village, what could possibly happen?

Feeling slightly tiddly, the low voices and the music in the pub relaxed her as soon as they walked in, making her worries and problems seem a little less serious. The alcohol thrummed in her blood, loosening muscles she didn't even realise were taut and strained. And not a moment too soon, they were joined by a new staff from the hotel working alongside Geillis in the Front Office, a French girl called Louise de la Tour. Nice lass, Geillis had said earlier.

" Oh mon Dieu , I want so badly to get laid. It's been a long while," the French girl muttered as she sipped her cocktail from a straw.

Claire's eyes widened. "How long?"

"Let's just say I buy batteries in bulk. I was hoping some strapping Highlander will sweep me off my feet. Romantic, non?"

Geillis patted Louise's hand. "Och, dinna fash lass, before ye know it, them lads be after ye. Ye're new around here so there will be quite a few interests."

"Sometimes, self-pleasure requires imagination." Claire sampled her whisky, Jamie's naked upper torso flashing through her mind. She frowned. "Creativity is key."

"Are ye serious? Ye have a gorgeous man at yer disposal if ye wanted some action. Christ, Claire, don't make Jamie wait too long." Geillis waved hello at the two lads from the hotel's kitchen that just walked in, Rupert and Angus.

"I don't intend to." Claire winked at her friend.

"Ah self-pleasure, now we're talking. What creative ideas do you have in mind, Claire?" Louise asked curiosity etched on her beautiful face.

Claire shrugged, attempting casual. "I call it the Facetime boogie. You know, I orgasmed while we watched each other...mmm."

Louise spat her drink across the table. " Merde! Masturbate you m-mean on Facetime? I would rather go to my grave with my hymen intact, merci beaucoup. For me, it's my dildo or real sex."

Geillis picked up a napkin and dried herself off. "Weel, I'd only do it on Facetime with someone I know, not with some random stranger in the internet.."

"Can we talk about something else? Two of the girls that used to pick on me from school just walked in." Claire puffed out a breath, blowing a stray curl out of her face. It was Laoghaire MacKenzie and Geneva Dunsany from her class in high school, her worst nightmare while growing up. They were standing by the bar, their gazes sweeping through the pub while at the same time hugging and kissing people they knew in greeting. Oh God, they haven't changed.

Louise quirked an eyebrow waiting for an explanation, confusion spreading on her face.

"What Claire is trying to say is ...bitches alert." Geillis nodded her head towards the bar. From the way, the two girls were looking at Claire, gave her a fairly good idea who they were.

Louise pursed her lips. "Aaah, I understand," She gave Claire a sympathetic squeeze on a hand, before giving her a warning look." Bordel de merde, they're coming!" she announced as she saw the subjects of their conversation making their way to their table.

Geillis simply smiled while Claire mentally braced herself.

"Ooh lookie, lookie, who do we have here? Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. The Sassenach is back. I'm surprised the Frasers took you back into their folds," the blonde hair lass called Laoghaire mocked, her perfectly over made-up face breaking into a sneer. "And here I thought, ye were gone for good."

"Hello, Laoghaire," Claire smiled before taking a swig from her whisky. "Please do me a favour and pick on someone with the same level of IQ as you. It's a shame really, you're such a pretty girl. It's bloody too bad, your personality and intelligence can't be photoshopped."

Covering their mouths, Louise and Geillis hiccupped and giggled, as they watched the verbal battle unfold.

"Ye hoor !" Laoghaire hissed, bringing her face down to the table, so none of the other customers in the bar could hear. "Ye think ye're clever, aye? So brave now that ye have yer hoor pals with ye."

Claire was unfazed despite her tipsy state as she stared back at Laoghaire, unwilling to back down.

Her friend Geneva pulled her back. "That's enough, Laoghaire." And then she turned to her. "Hi, Claire. Congratulations. I heard you're the new F&B manager at the Manor." There was a hint of snide in her remark. "Oh, and you bagged one of the Fraser lads. I'm surprised really as you never had luck with the boys back in high school. What happened? The Frasers took pity on you?"

"Va te faire enculer!" Louise cursed in French under her breath, bracing herself to attack Geneva, but Geillis pulled her back.

Claire inwardly winced as Geneva's words stung at her side. "No, I never had luck with the boys in high school, Geneva. I suppose it's rather a good thing that I didn't run about draping myself over them. So I guess no one can really accuse me of being promiscuous and sluttish as opposed to those who had better luck than me."

Geneva's eyes turned to daggers.

"Listen, girls," Geillis intervened in an unusually calm voice. Turning to Laoghaire and Geneva, she resumed. "I dinna ken who ye are but if ye have a problem here, write the problem on a piece of paper, fold it, and shove it up yer shite holes, aye? I know that everyone is allowed to act stupid once in a while, but ye're really abusing that privilege."

Geneva laughed. "Hey, Ginger, this has nothing to do with you. So stay out of it." She faced Claire before walking away. "See you around, Claire and mind to give my regards to Jamie."

"See you both around," Claire replied, trying her hardest to keep a straight face. "Wishing your evening to be as pleasant as you are."

Instead of replying, Laoghaire and Geneva rewarded them with a one-finger salute as they walked away and headed to the bar.

"Christ what a couple of imbeciles. I can't believe there are still people like them. Ye would think bullies would outgrow their meanness," Geillis fumed, her eyes almost bulging out with disdain.

"Never mind girls. We're here to have fun, oui? Let's forget about them." Louise waved the waitress for another round of drinks. "This round is on me." She looked over Claire's shoulder toward the bar area, nearer to the front end. "And tonight might be my lucky night. There is a table full of beautiful men over there you would not believe."

Geillis waved her hand. "Christ, no men, please. Girls' night tonight!"

Mischief rolled out across Claire's face, forgetting Jamie might be looking for her. "You're both right. We're here to have fun and just us girls. Once the hotel is officially open, God knows when we'll have another evening like this."

"We need to do something crazy, oui?"

Claire hiccupped. "Karaoke?" Behind Louise, she watched as two bar staff hooking up microphones and unrolling the projection screen. Some customers were already writing down their song choices.

"Oh no! I can't sing!" Louise complained.

"Christ, Claire! Is that the best idea ye can come up with?"

"Jesus, why is nobody enthralled with my karaoke idea? Where's the fun girls?"

Geillis gulped down her drink when Claire gave her a pleading look. "Oh, fuck! Fine! One song! I dinna think ye would include me."

Claire didn't waste time dragging Geillis at the rear end of the bar. "C'mon, let's sing that song from the Pussycat Dolls ...you know the one. "

Relieved she wasn't being hauled to the stage, Louise sat back and whistled through her fingers. "Allez, allez, Claire et Geillis!!" she cheered from her seat.

Teetering towards the makeshift stage, Claire and Geillis handed their request to the staff handling the sound equipment.

They were surprised when they were ushered first. "Ye're up ladies," the DJ announced with a wink, handing them both a microphone each.

Geillis face went white. "Oh, fuck!" she said out the side of her mouth. "Here goes nothing. I thought we'd have time for one more drink before we did this."

"Just shut up and sing. Oh, God, I'm so drunk."

Their song selection popped up on the screen, accompanied by whistles from the audience. With strong lights glaring in front of them, Claire couldn't make out the faces in the pub, but she could hear Laoghaire and Geneva somewhere chanting the rap song, Who Let the Dogs Out. Ignoring the taunts, Claire and Geillis launched into the song that started with the lines, Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?

..........

After work and seeing to Annalise in Lallybroch, Jamie headed to the pub. He had wanted to go to Claire immediately, but the boys from the kitchen, including Willie and Murtagh, badgered him to come for at least one drink. Since his sister's fiance, Ian Murray would be there too, he reluctantly agreed. Alright, one drink!

Of all days to be coerced to go to for a drink, it had to be on the day he could finally spend time with Claire. The pub was quite busy for the middle of the week, teeming mostly with staffs from the hotel.

"Hey, Jamie lad, why ye so quiet?" Rupert, one of the kitchen cooks asked.

Angus, also a kitchen staff, raised his pint to his lips. "Claire's not talking to him, that's why."

Everyone on their table laughed, accompanied by a few back slaps.

Murtagh raised an eyebrow. "I thought I saw ye both snogging after the meeting?"

Jamie just nodded with a half-smile. He didn't want to talk about Claire in front of the lads, especially because she had been the topic of most conversation ever since she came back from Switzerland. Her return had piqued a lot of interest in the village, mostly from single men, and Jamie didn't like it one bit.

Looking inquisitive, Ian tipped his beer bottle in Jamie's direction. "In all the years I've known ye, these last few days is the first time I've seen ye mope so much over a girl. If she's back to talking to ye again, what are ye doing here?"

Jamie could barely hear Ian over the singing that had started at the back of the pub. Christ, Karaoke night! He just remembered. "Aye, I'll be off soon. Claire is waiting for me."

"I'm heading home too," Willie joined in, downing the last of his pint. "Need to get up early for the meat delivery tomorrow."

As if on cue, Jamie shot to his feet. "Right lads, sorry to make this short. Another night perhaps once the hotel is running." He dug into his pocket to retrieve some pound notes, frowning as he realised almost every man in the bar had started cheering and whistling. He had been thinking so much about Claire, it had escaped his notice that most male customers were stood on their feet, facing the rear end of the bar. "What the fuck is going on?"

Following his brother, Jamie went to see what the commotion was all about.

Sassenach!

Claire, along with Geillis, stood on the makeshift stage under the bright spotlights singing into the microphones. She was wearing a white body-hugging turtleneck dress that went down just above her knees paired with knee-high black boots. Thanks to the spotlight, her black bra and panties were visible through the material even though it was a winter dress. And beside her, Geillis was gyrating to the song, as she sang the refrain Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? with a sultry look in her eyes.

Fists clenching, Jamie pushed aside the standing customers that blocked his path and approached the stage, with Willie in tow behind him.

"Sassenach!"

#melodyheart #forgetmenot #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

1 note · View note

eternalnight8806-3 · 5 years

Text

Ch 3 The Cat and the Fox

Category: Romance, Modern College AU

Rating: Will be Explicit but for now I’ll just say Mature for language and drinking

Pairing: InuKag

Words: 2,357

Also available on ff.net and AO3

Tag list: @keichanz @noviceotakus-blog @hinezumi @morikothehalfangel @cstorm86 @digital-art-monster @cammysansstuff

Enjoy!

Hey, I have a kind of personal question for you

InuYasha rubbed his tired eyes and stretched. He had been staring at his laptop for the last 3 hours straight trying to finish this damn midterm paper. The sound of his phone buzzing caught his attention. Who the hell would be texting him at 2 a.m.? Miroku was downstairs with the other idiots watching some stupid Netflix show he never could get into about a women's prison. The goofy grin that spread across his face upon seeing her name was completely accidental, or so he would tell you.

Shoot

What happened to your mom? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I was just sitting here thinking about it and I realized you never told me how she died. But it's totally fine if you don't want to tell me. I swear.

InuYasha almost laughed out loud at her obvious text babbling. It's cool. She had breast cancer.

Oh sweetie I'm so sorry. It must have been so hard to lose her that way.

Honestly, it wasn't long after her diagnosis. She was already stage 4 by the time they caught it. They tried everything they could but a month later she was gone. It was hard. Still is. I miss her a lot. She was my rock

Yeah. I don't know what I would do without my mom. She's the kindest woman ever. She's always supported me in everything. You never mentioned your dad though?

He died when I was a baby. I never knew him.

Wow.

Yeah. Hey what are you doing up anyway? I thought you had to work this weekend?

I do. Couldn't sleep. My brain just won't shut off.

Missed me that much in 24 hours?

You're incorrigible

Always

You don't have a humble bone in your body do you?

Maybe one

* eyeroll emoji *

What time do you have to be up?

In exactly 2.5 hours. I have to catch the 5:45 train to get there on time.

Jesus woman! Go to sleep!

I already told you I can't

Do I need to come over and sing you a lullaby?

InuYasha regretted that the instant he hit send. She would definitely think he was total creepy bastard now.

Lol. You don't know where I live

He hesitated before typing again. Fine. I'll call you. I hope you like shitty renditions of twinkle twinkle little star.

* a series of crying laughing emojis *

Can't be worse than my little brother trying to sing to our cat Buyo.

You have a brother?

Yep

Me too. Well a ½ brother. Older. And an asshole.

Oh yeah? Ever talk to him?

Not really. Like I said he's an asshole.

Got it. Foxy doesn't like his big bro

InuYasha's eyebrow quirked. Foxy?

Ummm... yeah???

What is that?

Ummmm

Your name?

Is it now wench? ;)

Ha. Ha.

Hey, what do you call me?

Catwoman

I suppose that makes sense.

Why do you call me Foxy? ;)

Because of your costume

Suuuuuuure

You're obviously delusional

Am I?

Severely.

Well you're the one talking to me at 2:45 in the morning

Yeah. I know. I need a padded room next to yours

So I can sing twinkle twinkle for you?

OMG stop! I'm going to wake up my room mate!

Sorry...

You really should get some sleep wench.

I know.

Night Foxy

Night wench

InuYasha couldn't sleep after that. He felt guilty for keeping her up, even though she had texted him first. Inane images scrolled past his eyes as he delved into the internet black hole, searching for something to occupy his mind. Finally, when he realized it was about 5 minutes past the time she said she had to be awake, he decided to make sure she had gotten up ok.

Wakey wakey wench

Kagome groaned aloud at the sound of her alarm. She tried to roll over and go back to sleep but then her phone dinged.

Don't wanna

C'mon. You gotta. That job you love so much is beckoning

Damn you

You're cranky in the morning ain't ya?

Only for people who won't let me sleep

But you have to go babysit brats

Uggggh. Fine. I'm up. Happy?

Are you actually up? Like out of bed?

Kagome put her feet on the floor next her bed. Yes...

Don't believe you

She sent him a picture of her feet on the floor.

Sexy

Shut up jerk

Get ready for work wench

I would if someone would quit distracting me

I'm distracting huh? ;)

You're maddening

Only for you wench

I'm getting dressed now

I'll be right over

Ha. Ha.

Again, I remind you, you don't know where I live

I'll sniff it out

Very funny

Seriously, I'm up and getting dressed now

Go back to sleep

She pulled off her nightclothes and tossed them in the direction of her hamper as she made her way over to the closet. Pulling out a sweater and jeans, she made her way back over to the bed where she'd laid her phone.

Never did

What? Why?

Just distracted

Kagome wasn't sure what to make of that, so she decided to ignore it as she pulled the jeans up over her hips. Then go to sleep. Weirdo.

Only after I know you get to work ok

You're nuts. I won't get there for another hour!

So?

Go to sleep.

Nope. Gotta know you're safe.

The sweater made it's way over her head and down to her waist. Overprotective much? She grabbed her hairbrush and set to work on her tangled mane.

Only of cheeky wenches

Oh now I'm cheeky? The hairbrush returned to her nightstand.

Yep

Kagome picked up her purse and keys before quietly exiting her room. I'm leaving now. Go to sleep

I told you, not til you're at work

Kagome didn't respond during her 20 minute walk to the subway station. She hoped he would fall asleep waiting for her to text back. No such luck.

Oi wench! Where'd you go?

To the train

Hahaha

Cheeky wench

You on the train?

I am now.

Good. How long of a ride is it?

20ish minutes

What do you normally do on the train at too damn early o'clock?

Lol. Well, listen to music, or read. Sometimes I people watch but there aren't too many people on the train this early on Sunday.

People watch?

Yeah. People will do the weirdest things when they think no one is watching them. I've seen people practically doing it right in front of me before

Doing what exactly? ;)

Shut up

Never wench

You make it too easy

Do I now?

Yep.

Will you just go to sleep?

You at work?

Then I'm gonna go with no

How did I see that coming?

Idk maybe because I've said it like 1000 times already

Alright alright I get it.

' Now approaching 10 th street station' came the automated voice over the loudspeaker. Kagome stood and slid her phone into her pocket to keep it from falling out of her hand as she exited the train. Since the station was nearly deserted it was easy for her to maneuver her way out to the street to make the short walk to work. Once outside, she saw that the sun was now fully on the horizon, creating beautiful hues of pink and orange. Stopping for a moment, she smiled and took it all in. The crisp autumn air whipped her raven locks around her shoulders. Seeing the sun between the trees, Kagome couldn't resist the urge to snap a photo with her phone and send it to her new self-proclaimed watchdog.

Isn't it so beautiful Foxy?

Just like you wench ;)

Kagome snorted as she walked and texted at the same time. You don't know what I look like

Sure I do. Long black silky hair, eyes the color of dark chocolate, ivory skin. See? I know

Still, you've not seen my face

Don't have to

She didn't know how to respond to that. Lucky for her though, she rounded the last corner before coming up to Yoro North's front door. She took a picture of her hand opening said door and sent it to him.

All safe. Please sleep now? I'd feel awful if you didn't get any sleep because of me

Not your fault wench. I'm a big boy. But I promise I'll close my eyes now. Have a good day at work.

Thanks Foxy. Sweet dreams!

Kagome tucked her phone back into her pocket as she walked right past Ayame's death glare without giving the girl a second glance. As she stepped around the corner to make her way back to the classroom, she found herself cemented smack dab into Koga's chest.

“Whoa there, sweetheart!” He said as he grabbed her shoulders and gently pulled her back. “You alright?” He asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Kagome shook her head to clear the fog from having the wind knocked from her slightly. Looking up into his sky blue eyes, she didn't miss the smirk that crossed his features at her antics. “I-I'm fine, Koga. Thanks. Hey, actually there was something I wanted to run by you if you've got a minute?”

“Sure thing, darling. Step into my office?”

Kagome had noticed his use of several terms of endearment in the last few days, but she didn't mind it so she didn't say anything to her new boss about it. Instead, she walked into his office and sat herself down without being prompted. Koga came around her to sit himself on the edge of his desk, crossing his arms lazily and smiling down at her.

“What can I do for ya, love?”

“Well, I've noticed that we don't ever take the kids anywhere outside of this building and its grounds. Is there a reason for that?”

Koga's face took a decidedly less happy appearance. “Kagome, this building is all that stands between these kids and the outside world. Humans aren't exactly welcoming to our kind, with the exception of the rare person such as yourself. We don't take the kids anywhere for their own protection but also for yours. You've seen how they can be with eachother. Imagine if they did that to a human? The backlash would be catastrophic.”

Kagome frowned. “So, they never get to leave here? Ever?”

“We occasionally take them to other facilities to interact with other children, but for the most part, yeah, they stay here.”

“And it's absolutely out of the question to take them to say a park?”

Koga's eyebrow quirked up in interest. “A park? Kagome, we have outside areas here for them.”

“I know that, Koga, but they should interact with other kids. Even human ones. I think it'll be good for them to socialize outside of their comfort zones. Some of them desperately need it. Besides, imagine if you were on the front lines of demon-human coexistence?”

Koga sighed deeply. “Kagome, I wish things were different but they're just not. I can't allow you to put the kids or yourself in that kind of danger. I'm sorry.”

The look of supreme disappointment that crossed her features nearly caused the wolf to cave. “If you say so, Koga. I'll go relieve Ginta and Hakkaku now.” She stood and exited his office with slightly slumped shoulders. She had been so sure she could convince him to let her take the kids out for a little while. Sighing, she decided she would just have to keep working him down until he agreed. Eventually, he would see her reasoning.

xxx

The next two weeks almost flew by for both InuYasha and Kagome. Even in the midst of studying for their impending final exams in a couple weeks, the pair never let a night pass without talking. It became part of both of their routines. They both looked forward to hearing from the other. Something that both of their respective room mates had not failed to notice.

“InuYasha, are you ever actually going to meet this girl?” Miroku asked his hanyou friend one Saturday afternoon.

“I have, jackass.”

Rolling his eyes, Miroku huffed. “You know what I mean. Sango and I have actually been on actual dates and you know, know eachother's names.”

“Bully for you. Now fuck off.” InuYasha practically yelled as he tried to stick his headphones on his ears.

Sighing, he took his friend's obvious hint and went downstairs to meet Sango. Upon seeing her leaning against the banister, fingers looped in her jeans, he couldn't help but smile. She smiled back and asked, “Everything ok up there? I thought I heard someone yelling.”

Miroku took his girlfriend's hand and went to exit the house. “Yeah. Just my room mate being an idiot.”

Sango raised an eyebrow in question. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. He met a girl at the Halloween party but has yet to actually learn her name or even see her face outside of whatever mask she was wearing. They just text constantly.”

Sango's eyes widened. “Th-they do?”

Miroku didn't hide his puzzled expression. “Yeeeeeah...”

“Um... well...”

Stopping mid step on their trek to the campus food court, Miroku eyed his girlfriend suspiciously. “Sango?”

Biting her lip, the girl looked down at the concrete. “I think your room mate is texting my room mate.”

Eyes widening to nearly the size of saucers, Miroku burst out laughing. “You're kidding!?”

Shaking her head, Sango responded, “Nope. She calls him Foxy. I guess he was wearing a fox costume or something?”

Miroku was nearly on the ground by this point. “Jesus! Yep. That's him.”

“I don't see how this is so funny.”

Finally calming himself, Miroku placed his hands on her shoulders, “Because my dear Sango, this cannot be purely coincidental. Maybe the strings of fate had a hand in this, eh?”

Sango rolled her eyes. “You're an idiot. What are we gonna do? I can't just lie to her.”

Placing a finger on his lips thoughtfully, Miroku had a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Mayhaps you won't have to my dear...”

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#inuyasha #inukag #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #my writing #my fanfic #my fanfiction #modern au #college au #the cat and the fox #chapter 3

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countcockulaaa · 6 years

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Can we get a life update?

Lol ok sure, it’s been a long time since I’ve done one so it might be a lot, but I’ll try to make it as succinct as possible. It’s probably gunna be a little depresso at times and I apologize but that’s life.

Bean and I have been officially together for about a year and a half and things are actually going pretty well. It seems like we’ve both started making progress on our own mental health stuff, and we’ve really changed how we interact with each other, and tbh… despite our issues, we’re both growing and this is by far the healthiest relationship either of us has ever been in.

I’m not working with Petco anymore. I still have mixed feelings about that, to be honest. That place was awful for my mental health and treated me like shit in so many ways, but I miss working and feeling like I’m making people’s lives better, ya know? I miss training. I miss being able to contribute financially to my life.

I’m thinking about going back to school. I only have a year left to get my bachelors in forensics but I think I’m gunna go for an associates in small business/entrepreneurship because 1) that’s more marketable for jobs and 2) I really want to rebuild my sitting/walking business and transition it to dog training in the future, so that would be more helpful. I do intend to go back and finish my BS in forensics tho, just not right now.

We got two kittens. They’re wonderful and they each have a person; I’m Rin’s human and Bean is Yuki’s human. They’re little demons but they’re wonderful. Roxy is a little too old and cranky for them but we make it work. They’re turning into big beefy boys and when they’re not wreaking havoc on my life and home, they’re delightful. It doesn’t heal the hole that losing Scout left in my heart and soul, but when Rin snuggles up on my boob, aggressively demands that I give him kisses, and then falls asleep with his face nuzzled in my neck while he purrs like a little Harley, it makes it sting less.

My health has not been ideal. Physically or mentally. I ended up having to take an emergency leave of absence from work (which led to be being “let go”) because I had spiraled downwards very quickly and was actively suicidal. More on that fun shit in a minute. I’ve gained weight, my skin is a mess because doctors and insurance suck donkey dick, I’m dizzy and shaky all the time, and I just generally feel super shitty. Plus side, my hair is growing back beautifully; its between medium and long again and thicker than ever, so my glorious mane will be back to pre-TSW levels of glory soon.

Mentally, the past five months or so have been the hardest of my life. I had a couple of suicide attempts that I kept completely to myself and managed to save my own ass from. I had a good chunk of time where I was self harming at least every other day. I couldn’t get out of bed. I actively wanted to die. I tried to die, more than once. I tried a partial hospitalization program but it didn’t work out, like… at all, except to give me a diagnosis that I’d already figured out on my own (borderline personality disorder HEYO). So I kept on with therapy and got in to see a psychiatrist on my own. I’m on meds (Seroquel and Lamictal every day). I’m in therapy twice a week, and Bean usually comes with me for one of those sessions. I even found a DBT handbook with like 500 handouts from the woman who created DBT, and I’ve been casually working on the skills until I can find a group in my area. I’m also looking into groups for abuse and sexual assault/rape survivors.

I’m doing better now, except for the going stir crazy not working thing. Meds are helping. I’m devoting a lot of time and energy to figuring out who I am as a person, because I really have no sense of self or identity. I’m so lucky to have a partner who not only acknowledges that I’m my own person (the bar is SO FUCKING LOW GUYS it’s unreal) but also actively encourages me to be myself, to follow my passions, to allow myself to unlock those parts of myself that I’d shoved deep down and pretended didn’t exist, to be assertive and fiery and take control. It was scary as fuck at first but my confidence is growing and I’m slowly remembering who it is that I am, and filling in the blanks as I go.

Made a porn blog. I realized a lot of the stuff I was into was a way of coping so having that blog is also kinda helping me rediscover what turns me on and what I want. Working on being assertive in the bedroom. I’ve always had a bit of a domme streak in me but it got beaten down into straight up constant submission and that’s not the case anymore, and I’m having a lot of fun exploring the switchy sides of myself. It’s nice to not be shamed for taking control or having fantasies. I’ve even posted some stuff of Bean and me on there.

I stopped drinking so much. We’ll have a beer or two a couple nights a week but I haven’t gotten drunk off my ass in a long time, and that’s a lot of progress from where I was two years ago. I smoke a fuck ton of weed. It’s nice to be able to go out and remember the night, not make an ass out of myself, and then go home with someone I love and not wake up feeling like an idiot.

I started writing again. Not a whole hell of a lot, but I’m writing more and more as time goes on. It makes me happy. Soothes my soul, as it were. I wish people cared enough to read it, but that’s not the point. I usually only write when I get overwhelmed with emotion but it’s a great start towards building healthy coping mechanisms. The self-destructive impulses have dulled a little bit.

Bean and I both desperately want to get out of New England. We can’t afford it but we’re both done with this place. I’ve been done with this place for over a decade but I’ve been so stagnant and stuck in a rut here, whether it’s been a prison in my own mind or being tied down to someone who doesn’t want to (or can’t) just up and leave. It’s something we’re thinking about for the future tho.

I’ve changed a lot in the past few years. Hell, I’ve changed a lot in the past few months. I’m not who I want to be yet, I’m not where I want to be, but I’m finally making progress towards that person and that place. I don’t know when I’ll ever get there, or even if I’ll ever get there, but for the first time there’s some hope. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m trying to build a future that I never thought I would have.

I’m not sure if I missed anything- I’m sure I did. It was so sweet of you to ask! If you wanna know more about anything or if I missed something you wanna ask about, let me know- I’m an open book :)

#personal #ask #anon #anonymous #answered

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your-dietician · 3 years

Text

How CPAP Changed My Life My Story (Before and After) – Sleep Apnea Essentials

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/how-cpap-changed-my-life-my-story-before-and-after-sleep-apnea-essentials/

How CPAP Changed My Life My Story (Before and After) – Sleep Apnea Essentials

Sleep apnea can be a life ruining condition. If it goes untreated, there are short term and long term problems. This is something most people have heard before, but can easily brush off. But I am going to share with you my journey. How my life was before CPAP, how I was diagnosed, and how my life is going after CPAP. Maybe this is something that you can relate to. Maybe this will encourage you to talk to your doctor, get tested, and if needed, use PAP therapy treatment to better your life

So here is my CPAP story. What I was going though, why I got tested, and how it went when I got my CPAP.

Life Before CPAP

When it started

So I am not the typical sleep apnea patient. When I first started to realize my sleep problem was not normal, I was 29 years old. In the beginning, I started off not being of clear mind in the morning. I would have to drag myself out of bed and rush to work at the last minute. Every morning I craved an extra 5 more minutes of sleep.

So far, nothing to outrageous. These were problems a lot of people were dealing with. But next thing I noticed, after being a proud night owl, I was going to bed much earlier. I was starting to go to bed around 10:30 pm and sleeping until 8 am. And I was still groggy the next day and kept craving to take a nap mid day. I stopped going out with my friends, even on weekends.

This seemed unusual to me, and I actually had my yearly checkup with my doctor. I shared my concerns with my doctor. This doctor always seemed fine to me, she always had a holistic approach at the start, and that worked for me. Because of my age, she recommended exercise.

This made sense to me. I was nearing 30 and I was getting out of shape. I wasn’t obese, I was a 5 10 male and about 200 lbs. But lack of exercise would explain my poor sleep. So I did start doing light exercising again. Unfortunately, this made me more tired and it backfired on me.

Things took a bit of a nosedive, because I ended up getting fired from my job. It was not related to my sleep problems, thankfully. But my new lifestyle didn’t help my sleep problems. I patched together several full time jobs, which gave me a crazy work schedule. I would wake up at 4 am to help out on a morning radio show, I would leave the show at 9 am to do some real estate work, and in the evening I would work at business events.

Although my sleep was getting worse, I blamed it all on my crazy work schedule. Although I enjoyed what I was doing, I knew I would need a normal job with a normal schedule.

When I knew there might be something medically wrong

So I did end up getting a normal job with a normal schedule after 6 months of piecing work together. The pay was decent and the benefits were great. I tried to adjust to the normal schedule and I really wasn’t noticing a difference. But the fresh start did give me a push to get out and start having a social life and get back to dating.

Being Single and almost 30 was not for me. Especially when I was just sitting at home to go to bed early. I met a beautiful girl online. We clicked right away. But I started to notice that I was always wanting to leave our dates by 11 pm. Nothing to do with her, I was just tired. And in a way, this was making me guilty.

To make matter worse, although I was thriving at my new job, I noticed I had really bad anxiety in the morning. I would wake up really anxious, almost like I was minutes away from a panic attack. But like clockwork, I noticed the anxiety was calming down around 1:00 or 2:00 and I would feel fine the rest of the day.

Another thing that I noticed was that I was starting to wake up in the middle of the night, a lot. It was very easy for me to fall asleep, but very hard for me to stay asleep. I would fall asleep, and I would have these VERY vivid dreams. They weren’t nightmares, just dreams that felt very real. I would always wake up from these dreams. I would then check the time, and it would be like 11:30 pm and shrugged it off.

I would fall asleep right away, and the vivid dreams would start again, usually something different. It would be like these dreams would go on for hours. Then I would wake up, and check the time. The time would be like 11:40 pm….. Was I only asleep for 10 minutes? The dreams felt like hours. And going through a whole night of barely sleeping like this, I knew this was part of the problem. Was it stress? that made the most sense to me. But what came next is what pointed me to anther direction.

That beautiful girl I was dating? Lucky me, she was very understanding and put up with me. Even though my lack of sleep made me cranky, she saw past that and saw the real me. We reached that point where we started spending nights together. This was a new experience for me, with this being the first person I was sleeping with since the sleep problem escaladed.

As how it was before, I fell asleep and the vivid dreams would start up. But this time, rather than waking up and checking the time, it was different. I was woken up by my girlfriend who was concerned. She said I had been snoring, but she was worried when I started to make a choking sound. I assured her I was ok and we went back to sleep.

It didn’t take long for her to have to wake me up again. This time she said I was still choking but then I stopped breathing and it really scared her. This surprised me, because I don’t recall snoring, choking, or the stop breathing. It seems like something I would remember, but I could recall were the vivid dreams. But I knew she wasn’t lying to me, she wouldn’t do that.

At this moment, I knew it was serious, and I needed to look into it more.

The Diagnosis

I tried to make an appointment with my doctor, but she was pretty well booked for months. This was urgent for me, because I did not want to lose this girl and this was for sure to be a problem. I picked a new doctor that was close by and was able to see me the following week. He was a family medicine doctor, not a specialist.

Although it was a routine physical, I shared with him my concerns. I mostly talked about the choking that my girlfriend noticed, as well as things I did like the anxiety and always feeling fatigue. Rather than tell me to just exercise, He said he was ordering a sleep test. He said with my age (being 30 now) it wasn’t likely that I had a sleep disorder. But he said he wanted to check just because of my symptoms.

He also told me that if my results are negative, not to worry because there were other things he can look for so I can start feeling better. The test was an at home sleep test. It was a pocket device with tubes and wires. I set it up, and used it that night without any trouble. I had doubts I did it correctly.

I brought it to the sleep lab in person. The tech said the doctor would get the results in about 3 days, and the doctor’s office would call me with the results. The tech also said there was plenty of data in the machine and I did use it correctly. That was a relief.

The VERY next day, get a call from the sleep lab. They had my results. The lab tech said my results came to be a 46 AHI and had obstructive sleep apnea. I had no idea what that meant, but I would later find out that an AHI less than 5 was normal and anything over 30 was considered severe. The sleep tech wanted me to have a titration study done immediately to see if I would qualify for PAP therapy.

Titration and Road to CPAP

The titration test had to be done in a facility in my case. I would spend overnight in a sleep lab where they would connect me to a CPAP. Throughout the night, a tech would monitor me on camera and change settings to see if it made my sleep apnea worse, better, or the same. When I got to the lab, there was a group of maybe 6 other patients. I was the only one that looked to be under 65.

I was in a room by myself with all the machine stuff hooked up to me. The staff was nice. I remember I didn’t bother watching TV and went to bed right away and fell asleep. I had vivid dreams as I usually did, but I wasn’t waking up like I usually would. I know I did, but it wasn’t as often.

There was really only one time that night I REALLY remember waking up. Reason I remembered was because when I woke up, there were about 3 techs surrounding me frantically checking on me. Apparently they told me that I stopped breathing for a couple seconds and was gasping for air. I don’t remember this at all, but it sure scared them. I guess that whatever setting they had me on at that moment, they knew that wasn’t right for me.

I woke up the next morning. I was still sleepy, but I could feel a new world awaiting me. I took the day off of work, because I didn’t know what to expect. I went straight home…. and yes, I went to sleep.

CPAP (or BIPAP) To The Rescue

The lab decided that I did qualify for PAP therapy treatment. They originally wanted my to have a normal CPAP, but my doctor changed the order to a BIPAP machine. My insurance covered 100% of DME thankfully.

I had the option to pick up the BIPAP in person and a sleep tech walked me through how to use it. It was a bit complicated when she explained it. Especially the cleaning part. There were so many parts to it I wasn’t sure I could remember it all.

But I took that home ready to use it my first night. I have to say, I had an amazing sleep. I woke up the next day feeling more refreshed than I have felt in a long time. One of the negative things I had the first day was this post nasal drip. I must have blown my nose a 100 times in the first couple hours of waking up. Thankfully, this really only happened the first night.

Even though I felt refreshed, I felt far from perfect. I still was having anxiety, I did feel more fatigue compared to others, and I still wanted to go to bed early and sleep late. And although I loved my BIPAP, things with it were not perfect. I noticed most mornings I would wake up and see that I turned the machine off in the middle of the night and took my mask off.

I had no memory of doing that, but from my machine data, I only was using the BIPAP about 3 hours a night. But I wanted to get better. I wanted to have a life again. So despite me taking the mask off in the middle of the night, I kept at it. I tried different things like using the CPAP while reading so my body could get used to it.

But persistence I think was the best thing. Just not giving up and keep trying. Eventually I was able to use the BIPAP machine all night. After 3 months, I noticed my mood had gotten better. I was happier and enjoyed doing things again. The anxiety I felt reached more normal levels and was not a day to day struggle anymore. I didn’t have the need to take any naps during the day. I was able to wake up and tackle the mornings. I got to stay up late on the weekends like a normal young person.

And that girl I was dating? I proposed to her a few years later. She really was the person that made it “click” for me that I really needed to talk to a doctor about it. And my doctor taking things seriously, and the PAP therapy following up as my treatment, I live a better life now.

Conclusion

Everyone has a different body, lifestyle, and situation. I share this, not because I believe anyone with my symptoms can have the same experience. But lack of sleep can really ruin a life at any age. If you are struggling with sleep for whatever reason, I urge you to talk to your doctor. Go over options about testing to get some clear answers. And if test results come out negative, keep looking with your doctor. Getting a good night’s sleep is critical.

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71tenseventeen · 7 years

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What happens the first time Sid and/or Taylor gets sick in Pittsburgh?

Oh the mother henning that occurs.

Sidney and Taylor have been in Pittsburgh for about a month and she’s really settled in nicely. Sid and Geno set up the room for her with the furniture Geno still had stored in the garage and she’s developed some pretty solid routines and a good sleep schedule.

So when she wakes up early one morning, squawking crankily instead of her usual soft laughter and singing, Geno kisses Sid gently and says, “Stay in bed. I get her.”

Sid smiles drowsily as he listens to the baby monitor, hears Geno going in and saying,��“Shhh, sweet girl, what’s...what happen to your face?!”

Sid’s eyes fly open because what? But before he can make his way into the bedroom, Geno is back with Taylor whose left eye is crusty and red and her whole face is smeared with dried...something. Sid reaches for her, concerned, and the moment she’s in his arms she sneezes loudly—and launches a lot of gross stuff from her nose directly onto Sid. When he opens his eyes to look at her, she’s staring at him miserably as her nose inadvertently blows a giant bubble.

Geno is having flashbacks to their first time watching her.

“She not look good, Sid. Should call doctor?”

“I think it’s just a cold. I…” Sidney stops to think. There are a million reasons he misses Mom every day but moments like this are near the top of the list. Mom would know what to do. He’s taken care of a sick Taylor before—more than once by now—and he’s no longer a stranger to dealing with gross body fluids but when things are like this, it’s scary. Logically, he knows it’s probably just a cold but he wishes more than anything that he had Mom’s comfort right now, that this wasn’t all on his shoulders. She always knew what to do or at least it had felt like it.

He takes a deep breath and tries to move around how much he misses her and think about what she used to do for him when he had a cold. Had he gone to the doctor every time?

“I...I don’t think so. If it’s just a cold, probably we should give her some medicine and keep her hydrated. I don’t...I don’t think I brought the thermometer from home though and I should probably take her temperature.”

Geno nods and kisses his head. “I go to store, get everything we need.”

Sidney looks up with a relieved smile and realizes this isn’t all on his shoulders. Not anymore.

By the time Geno gets home loaded down with three different digital thermometers, every kind of children’s cold medicine he could find, tissues and a whole slew of creams and ointments, Sidney’s gotten Taylor cleaned up and has convinced her to have a few bites of oatmeal and drink some juice.

Together they coax her into taking some medicine and Geno curls up with her on the couch, watching Sesame Street together while Sid goes to clean up her bed and take a shower. When he comes back to the living room he finds Geno dozing propped in the corner of the sectional with Taylor sprawled on his chest, head tucked under his chin.

Taylor is certainly cranky and a little lethargic but they get her to keep taking her meds, eat some pasta and she drinks quite a bit and they both worry less as the day goes on.

At least until she wakes up around midnight, crying, and Sid goes in to check on her and finds her incredibly warm to the touch.

He races back to the bedroom with her in his arms. “Geno? G? Zhenya wake up!”

Geno jolts awake and sits up. “Sid? What wrong.” “She’s burning up.”

Geno moves to get up. “You take her temperature?”

Sidney shakes his head. “Geno, she’s so hot. I’m scared.”

Geno is already pulling on pants. “Going to be okay Sid. Here, I take her, bundle her up. You get dressed. We take her to hospital.”

Sidney hands her over and takes a shaky breath as Geno touches his face gently, one arm holding Taylor carefully. “Going to be okay, Sid. We take her and she have good doctors to take care of her. I promise.”

Sidney nods and goes to change.

Four hours later they arrive back at home with a diagnosis of a virus and instructions on how to keep her fever down and care for her while she rides it out. Her temperature has come down with medication and the doctor managed to assure them both that this is normal for a virus and what to watch for.

The next day Taylor is already feeling a little better. Sidney wakes up with a fever.

Where Geno had been calm and steady when Taylor was sick, he’s close to frantic when he realizes Sidney is sick.

“Taking you to doctor, Sid.”

“I have the same thing Taylor does, G. There’s no point. I’ll be okay.”

Geno doesn’t look satisfied, though, and a minute later, Sidney hears him talking on the phone in Russian. “What can I do for him, Mama? It’s different from when it was just Taylor sick. Now they’re both sick and I’m leaving for a road trip in two days. I’m scared to leave them, Mama. What do I do?”

It would warm Sidney’s heart if he didn’t already feel like he’s going to roast to death.

He’s not sure what Mama says but eventually Geno is back by his side, coaxing him to take medicine and drink some juice before leading him back to the bedroom. He sets a couple of bottles of gatorade on the side table and tucks Sidney, who is freezing now, in gently. “Get some rest, I take care of Taylor.”

Sidney’s too sick to argue so he just nods. “Thank you, Zhenya.” Sidney doesn’t use that name often, usually in special, loving moments.

Geno nods and kisses Sidney’s head. “Just rest. Love you, Sid.”

The next afternoon Mama shows up at their door and Geno has never looked more relieved.

Mama fusses over all three of them for awhile before she heads off to the third bedroom to unpack her bag. Sidney blinks up at Geno from the couch where he’s laying with Taylor. “G you didn’t have to make her come.”

Geno perches on the edge of the couch and runs his fingers gently through Sidney’s hair. “I leave tomorrow on road trip. Can’t leave you alone, Sid. Just can’t. You mad?”

And how could Sidney ever be mad at that? He shakes his head and squeezes Geno’s free hand. “No. No it’s okay. Thank you for taking such good care of us.”

Geno gives him a little smile. “Always Sid. Promised a long time ago, always gonna take care of you. Both of you.”

Sidney smiles back. “Love you, Zhenya. Always.”

“Love you too, Sid. Always.” Geno climbs carefully onto the couch, settling in behind Sidney and wraps his arm around the people he loves.

#Anonymous

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ameatmachine · 4 years

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Saturday Night

In all the 6 months I’ve lived here, this is the first night I’ve sat in the courtyard. It is cool and a little humid, making the air thick and sweet. It carries so many smells of the night, in these quarantine time; wood fire smoke, cigarettes on the balconies, sautéed onion, car exhaust, twilight dew. The thrum of cars pottering by, cranky old trucks accelerating past, delivery scooters zooming by every once in a while. Snippets of conversation from pedestrians making their way home from the bottle store, wine bottles clinking in hand. I sit facing the apartment block, looming several stories above me, mostly dark, but beating with living energy, the thumping of footsteps and chatter in every unit.

Long, slow breaths. The cooling mist fills my lungs with each one; it feels like the first breaths I’ve taken in years. Today is the start of an extra long weekend. Time to think, to reflect and ponder on the myriad of questions that have been taking up so much bandwidth for months. The last holiday was 6 months travelling around Europe with my ex partner. While there were some truly incredible experiences on that trip, it was still symptomatic of a life of feeling displaced. Once home, I felt depleted by half a year of moving and noise. It was an exceptional holiday, but an extremely taxing one. This week however is a change, a chance to put new ideas and new philosophies to work, to begin healing.

When I was little, maybe 5 or 6, I saw the first Pokemon movie at the local theatre in my home town of Bognor Regis in England. We got the movie on VHS, so I could rewatch it. Even as a small child I was captivated by the very opening scene with Mew, this little alien Pokemon exploring a strange, exciting world asking itself, who am I? What am I? It stuck with me all these years, a question we all ask ourselves in those quiet moments of solitude. This time feels different though because now there’s context for all of those odd feelings. Where do you start with constructing an identity?

Eye contact has always been really hard. In high school I remember regularly training myself to look other people in the eye when having a conversation. It was concerted practice, and it became a game, much like many social interactions. How long could I hold that gaze before breaking away? For a while, it worked. I got good at it. Really good. Then at some point life got a bit more stressful, busy, demanding.

At some point all that progress had gone, and I was back at square one. It felt demoralising. I felt less valuable, like I couldn’t do such a simple thing anymore. Since then there have been good and bad periods at doing it but by my twenties I had given up on all of that ’training', resigned to the fact that this was just not something I was capable of. This was about the time I started my first relationship, that would last nearly 5 years and end just last year. This was the beginning of something really exciting.

Still, it was daunting, because I had managed to skim through my formative years at high school without engaging in any significant social events, and complete a 3 year Undergraduate without making any new friends at all. This was going to be a demanding part of my social history. It was important. Yet I still couldn’t hold eye contact. The experiences I had in this relationship were a net positive, and there was a lot of growth over that time, but even after nearly 5 years of growing close and sharing all our time together, this simple thing, this very basic human behaviour, would set off alarms in my head and make my gut feel like it’s in free fall. I just couldn’t do it.

And that hurts.

The self accusations begin, that I don't try hard enough, that I don’t think they’re worth it, that I don't care. That last refrain is too familiar. Too often, in spite of every fibre of my being believing and trying to show that I care, sometimes you’re told it’s still not enough.

When you are having a conversation, and looking at someone’s face, you are expressing with your gaze that yes, you are listening to them as they speak. For me though, I am trying desperately to not get distracted by the peculiar wrinkles and dimples in someone’s face, the unique texture of their skin, trying not to notice the shape of their head, trying not to be overwhelmed by the micro expressions of the person’s iris’ and the complex movement of their lips and tongue as they speak. Oftentimes I find someone strikes a particular, odd facial expression and it frightens me slightly. I don’t know why. It gets stuck in my head, and I can’t get it out, and then I’m having even more trouble focusing on what this person is trying to tell me. It is always an uphill battle to stay attentive.

The reasoning and implications of seeking diagnosis for ASD is something I’d like to think and write more about in the future, but it is still something I am trying to fully understand. What is sure though is having a name for this thing, having a whole community of people to read and draw from, is incredibly empowering. Recently I have had the confidence to begin asking some friends directly if it is okay to not have to look at one another as we talk. It has been such a huge relief to be able to pinpoint a difficulty, and to then have the confidence to ask for the support needed to accomodate for it.

So by being open about a diagnosis it gives permission to ask this small thing of people and it is the beginning of an identity that I want, rather than one that society expects and demands. It feels good, it feels empowering to be able to engage more in a conversation and properly process words. I can focus better in a conversation when I look at the ground and flick my eyes around, scrambling visual input a little so I can focus on the auditory input better. Since doing this, I’ve had better conversations with people I’ve known for some time, feeling more connected with them through what they are saying. By asking for this small accomodation and receiving a little more patience, it’s even made verbalising my own thoughts a little easier because the other person is giving the space that I need to feel comfortable and communicate.

The real dilemma arises when it comes to the passing conversations in the day to day. It’s really easy to be self conscious about asking for these kinds of small accomodations from people you don’t know as well, so while it’s wonderful to be allowed to be yourself a bit more in some spaces, outside of those spaces the mask slips back on and the work begins again.

This is one of the thoughts to ponder this week. I’ve learned that I am happier when I can ask for space to be more comfortable but there is the constant threat of other people, hidden social agendas, and professional standards that are expected. We live in a world that values hurriedness and noise, but all I want right now is quiet, slowness, structure, and patience from others, and just a little bit of help. There are lots of people that make you feel wrong for wanting these things, but it should be okay. It is a matter of working out how best to ask for help.

#actuallyautistic

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fixedwithgold · 7 years

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The Beginning

Everything starts at the beginning. For the purposes of this blog, our beginning was January 2016. The beginning of Pete’s symptoms. It’s pretty difficult to remember life before that date, mainly because the past 20 months have been so up and down we can’t imagine what life was like prior to then. So January 2016 is where I will begin this beginning.

Pete and I met in 2007, and for me at least, I knew he was ‘the one’ as painfully clichéd as that sounds. We married in 2010 and welcomed our daughter Murrin in 2012 and son Heath in 2014. Life was as normal as can be for 2 working parents juggling work, life and parenting but we made it work. And we loved it. Pete works as a dog handler in the police and I’m a primary school teacher, and for all things are mad, we wouldn’t change it for the world!

In January 2016, we went on holiday for a week to celebrate Pete’s brothers 40th, and shortly after returning Pete started to complain about itchy hands and feet. He launched into a month long campaign of googling symptoms and purchasing every skin cream known to man; emollients, anti bacterials, anti fungals….literally everything! Finally admitting self-diagnosis defeat, he made an appointment later that month with the doctor. For a number of months he was treated with antibiotics, creams, body washes, for a variety of different skin conditions, but nothing worked. The itch got gradually worse, spreading over his whole body, and causing him to scratch constantly and cover his body in angry sores. He eventually was referred to a dermatologist in June 2016 and embarked upon another monotonous regime of tablets, creams and waiting. Nothing was working. So desperate he was that in December 2016 he forked out a substantial sum of money for alternative therapy. They were very helpful and said lots of nice things, but pocketed £300 and handed over little more than multivitamins. (And before I start getting bashed for slagging off homeopathy, I am not knocking alternative therapies in any way, each to their own, but it didn’t work for us and unfortunately it’s made me more cynical than ever). As time went on, Pete started to change. The fun loving, full of life man that I knew became more withdrawn and disengaged. He’d lost some of his spark, he didn’t want to do things anymore and it was really hard to see. He itched so much at night that it woke him at all hours. He was desperately tired and cranky, and not the Pete I knew. We were working, coming home tired, niggling as married couples do about the usual household gripes, but without sleep and feeling awful Pete was struggling. I am ashamed to admit that although I tried to be supportive, there were times I would get annoyed at his lack of enthusiasm for things; I just didn’t understand the magnitude of how dreadful he was feeling. Only retrospectively can I appreciate how hard those days were for him. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, yet ironically never around when you need it. The cycle continued to get worse, and after 12 months when the dermatologist finally diagnosed him with folliculitis it seemed like we FINALLY had an answer. He was prescribed numerous other tablets, all of which made no difference, and eventually undertook a 6 week course of UV light therapy at FVRH in May 2017.

We went to Florida in July with Pete’s family but as the holiday wore on, they began to notice what had so far, been confined pretty much just to me and him. Pete didn’t sleep, he was exhausted, and his skin itch was by now constant and totally consumed him. He had started to wake nightly with dreadful night sweats, but numerous visits to the doctor still drew a blank. He’d lost nearly a stone in weight without really trying. He’d had endless blood samples taken; pee samples, poo samples, every sample going. He’d had allergy tests. He’d cut out bread, sugar, caffeine. He’d gone gluten free. Everything under the sun that Google suggested we had purchased (my personal favourite being Potassium Permanganate crystals, which unbeknownst to Pete, would turn his feet jet black when he soaked them in it…..imagine that in the height of flip flop weather!)

I’ll admit straight up, I’m not the most sympathetic nurse. Actually, I’ll rephrase - I have zero sympathy for Pete’s ‘man flu’ moments. But this was different. I began to trawl the internet late at night and look at symptoms and online diagnoses, desperate for an answer. I came up with a number of conditions; scabies, thyroid problems, personality disorders…..all of which I knew weren’t it but it didn’t stop me trying. I’d phoned his doctor, behind his back, in despair, worried he was depressed. We even discussed hypnotherapy….was he scratching so much he was imagining the itch? Retrospectively, it’s almost ironic how many trips to the doctor and how much searching didn’t throw up the answer. Just type ‘Hodgkins Lymphoma’ into Google and it’s all there. But because at that point we didn’t have an answer, and didn’t know what it was, we just hid it underneath the shiny façade of normal family life, and tried desperately to get on with things, because, especially when you have kids, that’s just what you have to do.

Finally in August this year, desperate and running out of options, we went to see a private consultant dermatologist at the Spire Murrayfield. He asked about Pete’s story, asked questions, and listened. Really really listened. It was evident from our discussions that he felt that this wasn’t just a normal skin complaint and arranged for more bloods and an X-ray to be carried out. Sitting there in that office, it was the first time in months we felt that someone was actually listening to us.

So I suppose that sums up the last 20 months really, and brings us to the end of our beginning……. Pete clearly unwell, even starting to doubt his own sanity; Me, worried that it may be psychological but hopeful for new results following our appointment. Hand on heart, when we left the consultants office that day, I never would have imagined the path that eventually lay ahead of us.

#hodgkinslymphoma #cancer #ourcancerjourney #beginning

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ashswritingplace · 7 years

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Ghosts

A fictional braid. A braid is a piece of writing in which three separate stories or separate parts of the same story are woven together to create a bigger piece. My prompt was to take the last line of a piece I had written and start a new story with it.

Ghosts

I wish they were still here.

Her name was Doreen. I don't remember her ever telling me that, but she reminded me of a Doreen, and I guess the name stuck. She was short and young and Latina, and sometimes she sang in Spanish and I understood only parts of her words.

His name was Raphael—this I knew. He told me he was named after the ninja turtle, the red one I think, or at least he quoted him a lot. He was dark-skinned and always dirty, and he didn't like to talk to me, but we would play a lot.

They were the same age as me, and they grew up with me. They were the only friends I had.

My mom complained a lot about Dad. I liked Dad. He used to bring me new action figures and buy me ice cream on Saturdays when it wasn't raining. Mom said he was irresponsible. She said he was always late with money for me, but I think she was just desperate for money. That's what Dad used to say, anyway.

I lived with Mom. We had a cat too named Hunter because he always brought mice but we had to get rid of him one week because Mom couldn't afford food for us. It was just the two of us and Mom had three different jobs and she hated all of them but things weren't so bad.

Mom took care of me. She loved me I think.

III

I visited the doctor a lot. The doctor was nice. She asked me how I was and how school was and what I did that week. I did a lot of puzzles and sometimes she would ask to see them. Mom didn't like her but she said she was the only doctor in the area that was covered by insurance so I had to go.

The walls were blue and the floors were green and there was always a teddy bear in my room—number 4—that was yellow with a purple patch on him. I loved seeing that bear every time I went. Sometimes it comforted me when the doctors were mean.

Sometimes the doctor would forget I don't like when she touches me and I would freak out in the doctor's office and the doctors would get angry and they would make Mom take me away.

Mom didn't let me talk to Doreen or Raphael in front of her. She said they weren't real which doesn't make sense because I saw them and heard them and played with them. But that was the house rule.

I wasn't allowed to tell Dad either even though I don't think Dad would treat them like Mom did. Mom made me tell Dad they were friends from school and Dad liked hearing about them.

Mom drove me to all my doctors appointments and paid for my pills but she never bought stuff for me like Dad did like comic books and tickets to the zoo. Dad said I shouldn't hate her but Dad does and I don't understand why he's allowed to but I can't.

She's a good mom but I don't like how she treats my friends. Sometimes I treat her like she treats them and she gets mad when I don't talk to her or use words from other people, like people in the movies. I think she's starting to understand my friends when I do that, but Dad doesn't think so.

Raphael doesn't like Mom. He says she's rude and can't be trusted. He doesn't ever mention her directly because he doesn't know how to make his own words. He only speaks words other people spoke first, and he quotes Ninja Turtles. I like when we watch it together.

Doreen is a good talker. She knows how to comfort me without ever touching me. I don't like being touched. It feels trapping and itchy and I don't like people who touch without asking. Doreen never touches without asking.

Doreen and Raphael have been around for as long as I can remember. They were babies when I was and they were kids when I was and soon they'll be adults like I will. We've grown up together, like a family. I've never had a brother or sister. They're like a brother and sister.

My doctor doesn't like me saying that.

One day my doctor tells me she thinks she knows what's wrong with me. I don't think anything is wrong with me. She says to make sure she needs to get a test and she takes out a needle and I freak out because I don't like needles, they hurt, and I don't like hurting.

She tries to hold me down and that makes me freak out more. I throw things at her and she starts bleeding and then I start crying because I hate blood and I'm scared and I don't want to do this anymore.

I go home without finding out what's wrong with me.

VII

Mom is very mad at me for what happened at the doctors and she calls Dad to tell him and I'm still crying even though Doreen is talking to me. Dad comes to take me out for food even though he doesn't have custody today because Mom needs some time to calm down which means she's going to lock herself in her bedroom again and cry.

At dinner Dad says it's my fault that Mom cries all the time and that I should feel bad and I should apologize to her and why can't I be a good child and just do what I'm told and not freak out over every little thing and

I don't know what else he says because by then Raphael grabs me and I start screaming and next thing I know I black out.

VIII

Back at the doctors I am alone except for Doreen because Raphael is gone and I don't know why he touched me. I don't know when I woke up but I'm up now and Doreen is singing in Spanish and I recognize words like pollitos and hambre and this is the song about hungry chickens that I never understood.

The doctor comes in and she looks angry and bigger than usual and she tells me I'm going to be eighteen soon and I need to stop acting like a child and how dare I cause a scene like that. Mom stands next to her and her eyes are red and I know I messed up.

Doreen starts singing louder until I can't hear the doctor or Mom and it's nice because they're not yelling at me if the chicks are peeping.

Later I hear the doctor talking to Mom and she says something is wrong with me again and says these two words that are really long and confusing and I think she said something about a diagnosis for me.

Like the hungry chickens, I don't know what these mean.

Raphael hasn't spoken to me in weeks. I've started new therapies and new medicines and the pills make me sleepy and cranky and sometimes they give me really really bad headaches. Doreen is around but she won't talk to me when I talk to her, she only talks to me when she wants to, and that's getting rarer.

I ask her about Raphael and why he won't come back but she won't answer me and I don't like that so I try to grab for her but she disappears before I can touch her.

My only friends are leaving me and it's making me really sad. I think they don't like my new doctors. I think they don't like how Mom's changed. I think they don't like how Dad's never around now.

I think they don't like me anymore.

Mom won't answer me when I ask her about Doreen or Raphael or why Dad stopped bringing me books and toys. She took me out of school before graduation and won't let me go out by myself. She's scared I'm going to hurt someone and I don't know why because I don't like hurting and I don't want to hurt anyone.

I think Mom doesn't love me anymore. I think Dad doesn't like me anymore too. I think for the first time in my life I'm alone.

My new doctor says it's good Doreen and Raphael don't come around anymore. She won't refer to them by name and I know they're hiding because they don't like that. My doctor says the medication is working and that I should feel much better.

I try to tell her that I really liked Doreen and Raphael and I didn't want them to go and I'm not happy now and sometimes I think I want to die because maybe Doreen and Raphael are waiting for me somewhere without doctors or moms or dads.

My new doctor says that's a side effect of my new medicine. I tell her I don't want to take my medicine. She says we'll try something else. We never do.

VII

I haven't heard from them in months. Mom says they're not coming back.

Lately there's been someone new. They don't have a name but like Doreen and Raphael no one can see them either. They wear a black hood all the time and I think Raphael would have liked them because they look cool.

They tell me I should join them in a place called Death and that becomes their name and I want to join Death because they are the only friend I have had since Doreen and Raphael have left.

These months without my friends have been awful and I don't think I can take this anymore. Everything is silent and lonely and I don't know how to deal with this. If my choices are staying here being sad or going with Death, I'm going with my new friend.

I miss Raphael and his quotes from Ninja Turtles and Star Wars and Pokémon. I miss Doreen and her comfort words and her cheery laughter and her Spanish songs.

I miss my friends. Everyone tells me they're better off gone.

I wish they were still here.

#short stories #writeblr

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