#fasting and immune system

[wellhealthhub]

The Ultimate Guide to Fasting with Food: 11 Surprising Benefits You Can't Ignore

Discover the surprising benefits and potential of fasting with food in this ultimate guide. Learn how it can improve your health and unlock new levels of vitality. Table of Contents Introduction to Fasting with Food The Science Behind Fasting with Food Surprising Benefits of Fasting with Food Weight Loss Improved Blood Sugar Control Reduced Inflammation Enhanced Brain Function Lower…

[halorvic]

The danger is clear and present: COVID isn’t merely a respiratory illness; it’s a multi-dimensional threat impacting brain function, attacking almost all of the body’s organs, producing elevated risks of all kinds, and weakening our ability to fight off other diseases. Reinfections are thought to produce cumulative risks, and Long COVID is on the rise. Unfortunately, Long COVID is now being considered a long-term chronic illness — something many people will never fully recover from. Dr. Phillip Alvelda, a former program manager in DARPA’s Biological Technologies Office that pioneered the synthetic biology industry and the development of mRNA vaccine technology, is the founder of Medio Labs, a COVID diagnostic testing company. He has stepped forward as a strong critic of government COVID management, accusing health agencies of inadequacy and even deception. Alvelda is pushing for accountability and immediate action to tackle Long COVID and fend off future pandemics with stronger public health strategies. Contrary to public belief, he warns, COVID is not like the flu. New variants evolve much faster, making annual shots inadequate. He believes that if things continue as they are, with new COVID variants emerging and reinfections happening rapidly, the majority of Americans may eventually grapple with some form of Long COVID. Let’s repeat that: At the current rate of infection, most Americans may get Long COVID.

[...]

LP: A recent JAMA study found that US adults with Long COVID are more prone to depression and anxiety – and they’re struggling to afford treatment. Given the virus’s impact on the brain, I guess the link to mental health issues isn’t surprising. PA: There are all kinds of weird things going on that could be related to COVID’s cognitive effects. I’ll give you an example. We’ve noticed since the start of the pandemic that accidents are increasing. A report published by TRIP, a transportation research nonprofit, found that traffic fatalities in California increased by 22% from 2019 to 2022. They also found the likelihood of being killed in a traffic crash increased by 28% over that period. Other data, like studies from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, came to similar conclusions, reporting that traffic fatalities hit a 16-year high across the country in 2021. The TRIP report also looked at traffic fatalities on a national level and found that traffic fatalities increased by 19%. LP: What role might COVID play? PA: Research points to the various ways COVID attacks the brain. Some people who have been infected have suffered motor control damage, and that could be a factor in car crashes. News is beginning to emerge about other ways COVID impacts driving. For example, in Ireland, a driver’s COVID-related brain fog was linked to a crash that killed an elderly couple. Damage from COVID could be affecting people who are flying our planes, too. We’ve had pilots that had to quit because they couldn’t control the airplanes anymore. We know that medical events among U.S. military pilots were shown to have risen over 1,700% from 2019 to 2022, which the Pentagon attributes to the virus.

[...]

LP: You’ve criticized the track record of the CDC and the WHO – particularly their stubborn denial that COVID is airborne. PA: They knew the dangers of airborne transmission but refused to admit it for too long. They were warned repeatedly by scientists who studied aerosols. They instituted protections for themselves and for their kids against airborne transmission, but they didn’t tell the rest of us to do that.

[...]

LP: How would you grade Biden on how he’s handled the pandemic? PA: I’d give him an F. In some ways, he fails worse than Trump because more people have actually died from COVID on his watch than on Trump’s, though blame has to be shared with Republican governors and legislators who picked ideological fights opposing things like responsible masking, testing, vaccination, and ventilation improvements for partisan reasons. Biden’s administration has continued to promote the false idea that the vaccine is all that is needed, perpetuating the notion that the pandemic is over and you don’t need to do anything about it. Biden stopped the funding for surveillance and he stopped the funding for renewing vaccine advancement research. Trump allowed 400,000 people to die unnecessarily. The Biden administration policies have allowed more than 800,000 to 900,000 and counting.

[...]

LP: The situation with bird flu is certainly getting more concerning with the CDC confirming that a third person in the U.S. has tested positive after being exposed to infected cows. PA: Unfortunately, we’re repeating many of the same mistakes because we now know that the bird flu has made the jump to several species. The most important one now, of course, is the dairy cows. The dairy farmers have been refusing to let the government come in and inspect and test the cows. A team from Ohio State tested milk from a supermarket and found that 50% of the milk they tested was positive for bird flu viral particles.

[...]

PA: There’s a serious risk now in allowing the virus to freely evolve within the cow population. Each cow acts as a breeding ground for countless genetic mutations, potentially leading to strains capable of jumping to other species. If any of those countless genetic experiments within each cow prove successful in developing a strain transmissible to humans, we could face another pandemic – only this one could have a 58% death rate. Did you see the movie “Contagion?” It was remarkably accurate in its apocalyptic nature. And that virus only had a 20% death rate. If the bird flu makes the jump to human-to-human transition with even half of its current lethality, that would be disastrous.

[arctic-hands]

My parents were not nice and didn't handle having a disabled child even remotely well, and even tho things are better between us now I still doubt their claims of unconditional love for me,

But at the very least they cared enough about me to vaccinate me against measles

[ruvviks]

coming up with zombie apocalypse stories is always fun because you can just say whatever and people will just have to take your word for it

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

this is mostly in jest but heads up i might not post official art besides small doodles for a while because my drafts ran out and these past two weeks have genuinely been destroying my mental health so I don't have the capacity to do anything seriously art-related right now

[deonideatta]

Bots. Yeah. Same problem here 😭

Anyway, drabble prompt: classic "sick fic" for TwiYor?

They never has anyone take care of them, so the awkwardness are there, but also genuine concern.

Hello, thanks for the prompt!!!! This is definitely longer than a drabble but I had fun with it lol. And in my defense i didn’t know that apparently a drabble is only supposed to be like 100 words 😂😂 

It took a bit long to finish because I got sick myself midway through writing it lol. At least I can say that all the details for the sick parts are based on fresh and recent first hand experience haha

But yea here it is!! Hope you enjoy!! :)

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

Twilight does not forget things. Least of all mildly important things, like his umbrella on a day when the forecast won’t stop bringing up the rain. And yet, when he reaches the hospital exit at the end of his shift, he realizes with a start that he’s left it at home, by the door in the umbrella stand. Despite his best efforts he makes it home soaked to the skin, rainwater dripping from his hair like it’s mocking him.

Yor takes his coat to hang in the bathroom, and Anya carries a whole pile of towels over to him. He takes just one, drying himself off as well as he can. But even after he’s changed into drier clothes he can’t shake off the cold, shivering all through the evening despite Yor and Anya piling blankets over him.

He brushes off their concerns, though he imagines it’s hard to take him seriously from underneath a mountain of blankets. He doesn’t think it’s anything to worry about, but he heads to bed a bit earlier than usual on Yor’s insistence. A little extra sleep probably won’t hurt.

He wakes up the next day with a deep seated ache in his muscles. The mere action of turning to check the time takes far more effort than it should, and his eyes burn as he squints at the clock in the low light.

He tries to get up, and promptly lies back down when his muscles scream in protest and his head spins. His senses come to him as if through fog, and he registers vaguely that his throat hurts and his room is way too warm. 

At first, he wonders if he’s just tired. There’s always some degree of exhaustion lingering in his bones, but he’s a master of staving it off, and not letting it influence the standard of his work. But it’s just past 6am, and he’s pretty sure this is the most he’s slept in ages.

Has he been poisoned? Some kind of nerve agent? He stares groggily at the ceiling, trying to clear his head. Even through the mental haze he knows it’s unlikely. No, this is probably just the result of the unholy union between the rainstorm he’d been caught in and weeks of getting a maximum of 3 hours of sleep per night.

Twilight groans in annoyance, making a new effort to get out of bed. This time he succeeds. Well, partially. The moment he stands up he has to sit down again, breath coming in short, frustrated puffs. 

He tries again. There’s work that need doing, he doesn’t have time to be sick. If he just manages to get up and douse himself in cold water, he’ll probably feel fine enough to at least deliver some reports. Moving at a quarter of his usual pace, he manages to make it to his door and halfway to the bathroom before Yor intercepts him with a greeting from inside the kitchen. 

“Good morning Loid, did you….” she trails off as she takes in his face. Whatever she sees causes her cheery smile to drop, and Twilight frowns. Surely it’s not that clear that he’s sick.

“Loid, are you alright? You look really ill!” Yor’s voice is filled with concern, and she rushes out of the kitchen to stand in front of him, studying him worriedly.

“I’m alright, Yor, don’t worry,” he says. It’s his least convincing lie ever, pathetic in everything from its delivery to the tone of his voice. “I just need a cold shower, and I’ll be fine.” He tries for a smile, knowing it looks feeble even before the worry in Yor’s expression deepens.

Twilight is just about to force out another half-hearted reassurance when Yor reaches up and puts a hand on his forehead, mirroring the action with her other hand on her own forehead. The contact and the proximity are the final straw for Twilight’s already struggling train of thought, and the protests die in his throat. 

Yor pulls her hand away suddenly, like she’d been burned. With how warm he feels, it seems fitting.

“I’m sorry- I just,” Yor stammers, gathering her hands together. Her concern for him seems to override her embarrassment, and for some reason Twilight feels vaguely flattered. “I didn’t mean to overstep, but Loid I think you have a fever.”

That checks out, given the headache and the warmness. With the sore throat, it might even be the flu. He doesn’t manage to say any of that, suddenly hit by a wave of lightheadedness. 

He must have stumbled, because Yor's hand is suddenly on his arm, steadying him.

"Loid, I don't think you should go to work today," Yor says, and she sounds nervous and firm all at once. “And fevers are best treated with lukewarm water, not cold.”

"I appreciate your concern Yor, but I have things to do," he starts, and he's vaguely aware of how petulant he sounds, like Anya asking to watch another episode of Spy Wars before bed. And speaking of Anya. "Anya needs to go to school as well, I need to help her get ready."

Yor's hand on his arm is cool against his flushed skin as she shakes her head resolutely.

"I'll help Anya get ready. You need rest, and that's more important than work," she says, and all of Twilight's inbuilt desire to be efficient at any cost screams in protest. 

"Just let me call work then," he says anyway, because despite that internal drive he has to admit that he's not sure he'll be particularly useful in this state. He must be getting soft. He’s persevered through injury and illness alike - it’s almost humiliating to be so incapacitated by a fever.

Yor nods, letting go of his arm to let him shuffle towards the telephone. He makes a quick call to Handler, who sounds equal parts amused and annoyed. He can almost see her raised eyebrows when he tells her he’s sick, but something in his voice must be convincing because she agrees to take care of his workload for the day and tells him to rest up. He scoffs at that, going to hang up.

"Take better care of yourself, Twilight," she says, just before he can lower the phone. "I know we give you a lot of work, but don’t neglect your health just to keep up with it.”

He mumbles something in return and makes his way back to his room. He catches a glimpse of Yor in the kitchen as he passes, filling a glass with water and gathering some medicine from the cabinet.

Lying down is a far bigger relief than he’d expected it to be, to the point that he barely registers the sound of knocking on the door, followed by Yor pushing it open. She hands him a glass of water and some pills, and he downs them, trying not to wince at how sore his throat feels. 

“I’m going to go to work now,” Yor says gently. “I’ll make sure Anya gets to school on time too, so don’t worry about her.”

She hovers above him, worried but seemingly unsure, and he does his best to give her a reassuring smile.

“Thanks, Yor,” he says, voice still annoyingly weak. “I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about me either.”

Yor smiles back, looking somewhat placated, though the worry lingers in the tightness of her smile. She closes the door gently behind her, and Twilight contents himself with half-listening to the sounds of Anya and Yor getting ready for the day, drifting in and out of sleep.

A while later Anya pops her head in to greet him and say goodbye, and he musters up enough strength to give her a weak wave and a goodbye in return.

Then he lies there, alone and in the dark, uselessly sick. Rest, Yor and Handler had both said, but his brain refuses to cooperate, racing with thoughts about the mission reports he really should have finished yesterday. Except it isn’t really racing, it’s trudging slowly through the mass of information he’d normally have no problem speedily sorting through. It’s frustrating, and it makes his head hurt more.

The longer he lies there the more restless he feels, like he could be making far better use of his time. To make things worse, his room is still far too warm. He squeezes his eyes shut more tightly, trying to force himself to sleep. If he sleeps, perhaps he’ll feel better more quickly, and then he can get back to work. But any sleep that comes is shallow and restless, and the stupid reports just won’t stop trying and failing to sort themselves out in his mind.

The clock reads 10am when Twilight gives up. Pushing himself up despite the way his body protests, he shuffles out to the living room, a folder of reports in one hand and a pillow in the other. The cooler air is pleasant against his skin, though the light stings at his eyes at first. 

Settling on the couch, he opens the folder and starts to read. He barely gets a few paragraphs in before what had been a mild headache morphs into a sharp pain behind his eyes. He squeezes them shut for a bit, finding relief in the dark. He repeats the cycle a few more times, until the headache gets to the point where the words on the page start to blur.

He’s vaguely aware of the fact that he’s started to tremble, and suddenly he’s glad he brought the pillow with him. It’s cooler out here, so maybe it’ll be easier to sleep for a while. The cacophony of aches and pains in his body lessens slightly as he lies down, and he feels himself drifting away surprisingly quickly.

Just a little sleep, he thinks. Just to get rid of the headache, and then he can get back to the reports.

When he opens his eyes, he’s back in his bed, and there’s sounds of movement coming from the kitchen. He lies still for a moment, disoriented and very confused. His room isn’t as stiflingly warm as before, and the clock tells him that it’s past 3pm. Alarmed, he tries to sit up, and finds that the feverish aches in his muscle have lessened, albeit marginally.

He looks around, trying to sort out the mess in his head. How on earth did he get back to his room without realizing?

Yor interrupts his thoughts by poking her head into the room, and her eyes light up when she sees him awake.

“Loid! Are you feeling any better?” she asks, coming to stand by his bedside.

“A bit,” he says, still mildly confused. “How did I- when did you…?”

“Ah,” Yor says, flushing lightly. “I came back early because I was worried, and I found you sleeping on the couch.”

Her expression turns disapproving. “You really shouldn’t work when you’re sick, Loid,” she says, frowning. “I understand wanting to be productive, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your health.”

He feels oddly chastised, and nods silently. Yor’s expression melts into a small smile.

“I’ve made you some soup,” she says. “It’s the best thing for when you’re ill. I asked Camilla for the recipe, so I hope it tastes alright.”

Twilight nods again, filled with the trepidation that usually surrounds Yor’s attempts at cooking. Yor disappears out of the door, returning shortly with a bowl of soup and a glass of water on a tray. Despite her track record, the soup smells rather good, and Twilight can’t say he isn’t grateful for the kindness.

Yor hands him the tray, and he studies the soup. It looks good. It smells alright. Perhaps it’ll be fine to eat a bit. His stomach doesn’t tie into knots at the thought, so he plucks up his courage and takes a spoonful. And then another, and another, because it’s actually some really good soup. A surprised smile makes its way onto his face.

“This is really good, Yor,” he says, and despite everything there’s a note of genuine happiness in his voice. It’s nothing groundbreaking, a simple broth based vegetable soup, but it’s soothing and warming and Twilight finds that he appreciates it even more for the effort and care that went into making it.

Yor beams, and Twilight finds himself captivated by the sight.

“I’m glad to hear it!” she says, her smile wide and proud. Radiant. It causes a warm feeling in Twilight’s chest that he doesn’t think he can blame on the fever or the soup. He chooses to ignore it, tearing his eyes away from Yor and focusing back on emptying the bowl. Being sick is no excuse to indulge in things that aren’t relevant to the mission.

Oblivious to his brief internal battle, Yor sits on the bed next to him, chatting about her day and the process of making the soup. He listens, occupied by eating, interjecting here and there. It’s nice, and despite the lingering aches of the fever and his mind warning him not to get too comfortable Twilight almost feels peaceful.

“By the way Yor,” he says, when there’s a lull in conversation. “How did I get back here?”

Yor immediately goes red, eyes shifting everywhere. 

“I- I carried you over,” she mumbles. “It wasn’t too hard, and it was mainly because I was afraid that you’d hurt your back or your neck from sleeping on the couch, and when I brought you back it was way too warm in here, so I opened the window a little to let some fresh air in, and…” Yor seems to have realized that she’s rambling, trailing off.

Twilight doesn’t know what to say. The extent of Yor’s concern fills him with more of that warmth he doesn’t know what to make of. For almost all of his life, getting sick has been an arduous and solitary affair. He hasn’t really had anyone he trusted enough to help him through something as vulnerable as sickness. Miserably dousing himself in WISE provided medicines and trying to keep working through whatever coughs and colds came his way had become standard procedure for him.

But Yor’s smile is more soothing than all those medicines, and the soup is flavourful and gentle on his sore throat, and some emotion he can’t (won’t) label sweeps through him. He’s vulnerable in this state, he can’t work, and he still feels the aches and pains of the fever. And above all, indulging in domesticity is supposed to be out of the question. And yet there’s a deep seated contentment that settles in his core as he sits there and eats the soup, knowing that he’s cared for.

“Thank you,” he says, instead of addressing any of the feelings building in his chest. “I really appreciate you taking care of me like this.”

“It’s ok, I’m your wife,” Yor says seriously, before flushing and fumbling to amend her statement. “I mean, as your wife in this arrangement, it’s the least I could do.”

Twilight laughs, a quiet but genuine thing, and Yor smiles through the blush on her cheeks.

When the soup is finished, Yor leaves him to rest again with a promise to come back later. Settling back under the covers, Twilight finds that sleep comes a lot easier when his mind is filled with thoughts of Yor instead of trying and failing to analyze mission reports.

Over the next few days he recovers under Yor’s watchful eye, slowly but surely. She brings him soup and tea, and Anya comes to sit on his bed in the evenings, reading chapters from Spy x Wars to him.

There’s something soothing about the fact that they care about him enough to look after him like this. It can’t last, and he knows it, but Twilight selfishly relishes it all - the tenderness in Yor’s touch when she puts her hand on his forehead to check for returning fevers, the way Anya does her best to help out, the way Yor checks in on him throughout the day.

He still feels a bit useless being bedridden and unable to take on his usual workload, but he does his best not to think of it as going soft, or overindulging in domesticity. The severity of his sickness this time is probably the result of years of never allowing himself to recover from illnesses properly. So he lets himself rest, and if those days spent recovering are some of the most peaceful days of his life, no one has to know.

A week or two after he’s healthy again, Anya comes home sneezing. When he starts sneezing as well a few days later, Twilight begins to wonder if perhaps he should take more vitamins and start working on fixing his sleep schedule.

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

Hope it was a good read!!! I enjoyed writing it :D

[factorialsotherfandoms]

In honour of Titan Day, we're scaring Foolish <3

Only warning is a sick child, and big levels of parental fear. Using she/her for Leo for consistency's sake, also human-form dragon eggs as it works better for what I want.

When Foolish wakes in the morning, Leo is gone. She's not in her bed and she's not in her room, and he can feel himself panic even as he pulls out his comms.

It's fine, right? She's probably just with Bad? Or playing with one of her siblings?

/FoolishG: has anyone seenleo?

BadBoyHalo: isn't she still asleep?

oiBagi: Not since yesterday/

And that's when he panics.

/FoolishG: no D:

FoolishG: she's not here

mikethelink: I'm near the titan i'll look here/

Just like that, a search party is formed. Foolish tries to think of places his child might have gone, and everyone else scrambles to look. He thinks of stories of Forever - possessed Forever - stealing Dapper and trying to murder the kids and thinks /fuck are we doing this again/?

It's still better than the alternative. Still better than the idea she's been murdered in the night, her remains and all evidence disappeared.

Like Mike once threatened him with, like Mike once pranked him with as revenge.

Mike, who when push comes to shove, is actually looking for her.

Foolish... He'll check the Titan himself, too, but should start here. He's already checked the inside of the building. He's already checked inside, which means his kid is out there somewhere. Out there, alone, in a world that wants her dead.

He has to find her.

He heads outside, and starts circling around. Maybe... Maybe she's just looking for flowers or something? Mining for diamonds? Working on a project? Maybe she just doesn't realise what she's done to her old pa's heart.

He can hope.

Outside... He doesn't immediately spot her but it's okay, it's okay, he just needs to look elsewhere. She'll be somewhere, and he'll hug her, and it'll be okay.

He's half way to Hot Girl Beach when he turns and looks behind him.

And there's Leo, standing on the dragon's head.

"Leo!" he screams for her, already pulling out his warpstone and getting close again.

With grappling squawk and paraglider he makes it up there in record time, clattering to his knees at her side.

"Leo!"

She doesn't turn to face him, instead continuing to stare out towards town.

"Leo?" he asks, a bit quieter, trying to draw her in. "Leo bonita? Can we go inside? You're scaring your pa."

Leo doesn't respond.

Leo doesn't do anything but sway, both with and against the breeze.

Foolish sees it coming, sees his kid crumple before him. He darts out, grabbing her, pulling her into his arms. Away from the edge - away from the edge over which she nearly tumbled.

He can't breathe, can't breathe, just curls around his baby and begs her to be okay.

Her head is tucked safely against his chest, and he can feel the heat off it.

A fever.

"Leo?" he tries asking her again. "Are you not feeling well?"

He doesn't really get an answer, but Leo's eyes do blink open. She doesn't try to escape his grasp, doesn't move, doesn't think, but shaky hands raise and sign to him "pa?"

"I'm here, Leo," Foolish holds her a little closer. "Let's get you back to bed, butterfly."

There's no response as he carefully treks back down to ground level, nor as they take the elevator up and he tucks her into bed. It's only when he pulls his hand away to let the others know she's safe - and to ask for medicine because, fuck, he doesn't know what to do when his princess if sick - that she signs again.

"Pa," is all she signs. "Pa, pa, want pa."

"Leo?" he sits on her bed, petting her face with one hand while he finishes typing with the other. "Pa's right here, he's right here."

"Where is pa?" she keeps asking. "I'm scared, where's pa?"

And, fuck, Foolish is crying too.

"Pa's here, princess, he's right here..."

/FoolishG: leo's sick help

BadBoyHalo: you found her?

BadBoyHalo: I'm coming/

He doesn't look at the further messages, doesn't bother to reply. Bad seems to be prepared for everything - surely he has medicine in his bag. Instead Foolish shuffles onto the bed, holding his child close even as she calls for him.

Bad's there in seconds, or maybe a minute - certainly faster than two.

"Foolish!" he calls as soon as he's in the room. "Leo!"

Foolish doesn't bother replying - he hears a quick "Dapper wait here I don't want you catching anything", and then the elevator sounding once more.

And there Bad is, a bottle already in hand.

"Are you not feeling well, Leo?" Bad asks.

Leo just keeps signing for her pa, a little more desperately, despite him holding her close.

"Leo's got a fever," Foolish manages to tell him. "She'd wandered up to the dragon head."

Neither of them need to express how glad they are she did not fall off.

"Awww," Bad vocalises in sympathy, swapping the bottle for two more. One has water in it, the other some liquid medicine. "These will help. You'll feel all better soon."

Foolish doesn't know how bad does it, how he ignores Leo's pleas. Maybe because he's not the one she's calling for? That must be it.

They manage to get a spoon of the medicine and a few sips of the water in her before she passes out. Foolish, already hugging her, just wraps her up tighter in her arms.

"There's instructions on the bottle," Bad says, rather than explaining - and Foolish doesn't think he'd know. "I've got to go pick Pomme up, but call again if you need more."

Foolish nods his thanks, still too worked up to properly reply. Trembling hands calling 'pa where's pa need pa' haunt his eyelids - he kisses Leo's burning forehead, hums her a lullaby as Bad leaves. Hums to her, speaks to her, tries to cut through the fog of fever and sleep to let her know he's here.

His child is sick, and his child was calling for him - he's not going to leave her alone, not ever again.

[eluminium]

i mean, whether he is taking immune-suppressing meds or not, shingles is quite literally dormant leftover virus cells from having chicken pox reactivating and multiplying because the immune system is too weak to deal with them. so it's definitely weakened atm. fun fact, i was sickly enough as a kid that i managed to get shingles at 11, which is incredibly young and led to the hilarious conversation between my mum and our GP that went something like "i think my kid has shingles" "at that age? naaah, your kid does not have shingles *lifts my shirt to find the very distinct shingles rash* ...your kid has shingles"

True true! And considering how much that man has been working lately (podcast listeners and skizz stream watchers, you know.) I am not surprised at all that his immune system is currently garbo. Which is even worse when you consider that a possible trigger for MS flareups and pseudo flareups is STRESS. If there's anything to learn from this, it's that when you're dealing with your health, don't do a Skizz. How that man is alive and not a total mess is a miracle (PODCAST LISTENERS AND SKIZZ STREAM WATCHERS, YOU KNOW)

also damn can't believe your shitty 11 year old immune system bamboozled your GP like that. Amazing prank by your sicklyness. I HOPE YOUR IMMUNE SYSTEM GOT BETTER THOUGH CUZ HAVING SHINGLES AT THE AGE OF 11 SOUNDS LIKE IT SUCKS TANGO REAL BAD.

[chorus-communities]

i have so many thoughts and opinions on vast error's (Dreadful) writing but the main 3 issues it suffers from are power creep, character immunity and shitty pacing. none of the "action" sequences feel like action. there is never any tension because you know they'll never kill any characters off in the way that homestuck abruptly did. There is no love for side characters the way there was in hs. it just fails completely as a homestuck fancomic, but it has nothing going for it that isn't taken from homestuck.

[pessimisticprincess]

i woke up so sick yesterday and i just ended up sleeping my entire day off now i’m back to work still with a fever and a horrible headache sore throat combo but i have to push through today and tomorrow so my schedule doesn’t change i want my 5 days off so bad dude 😭

[tj-crochets]

Hey y’all! Weird question time! Do you know of any mayonnaise available for purchase that doesn’t contain vinegar? My grandma wants to share a turkey salad sandwich recipe with me but it takes mayo and I haven’t been able to find any without vinegar, and I’m allergic to vinegar Alternatively, do you have any recipes? The ones I’m finding all have raw egg in them, and I am. Uh. Hesitant? about using raw egg in something that will not be cooked before it’s consumed 

[july-19th-club]

my brother's confidence in my ability to get better with sleeping is making me so anxious that I can't sleep lol also making me afraid that all my coping mechanisms will stop working and I won't even be able to sleep with the otc aides I have used in emergencies up till now. And that I'll stop being able to sleep after a bad night and wind up having it like him and my mother with multiple bad nights in a row like just thinking about it has made me terrified of it and I don't think that fear is going away he wants to talk about it like I have some kind of special insight and I DONT! I'm terrified that I'll lose all the progress I've made and nights like this where I lie awake with my heart pounding after a completely relaxing day make me absolutely certain of it like I am going to never be able to trust my ability to sleep again and all the tricks will stop working and I'll get in a wreck or something just trying to get to work in the winter because ill be chronically sleep deprived and that'll just make me more anxious viscious cycle forever and its not his fault but it IS for acting like I'm doing better which is tempting fate into making sure I'm not

[diagnosed-anxiety-disorder]

ouu I am having a Chopin moment (overwhelmingly sick)

[abhorrenttheorizer]

anyone else accidentally destroy their grades or other positive school/job markings due to having the immune system of a leper and also getting bedbound sick for at least a month...

*worried to tell managers and professors that i may not be active for weeks because i have a hunch they'll dismiss everything i say on account of being "lazy".

((cumblrs tags are so broken arrrgh

[impetusofadream]

If you dont wanna read about psoriasis or other skin related issues/things: skip this post

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There are days, like right now, where i just want to shave my head so i can FINALLY scratch all the stupid itchy scales off my head.

And honestly, my psoriasis isn't even that bad relatively speaking, but I am compelled by my stupid dumb brain to pick and itch and scratch at anything that feels like an aberation on my skin. (Side note: omg i am so lucky i only had/have mild acne or my face would have so many scars from trying to get rid of the bumps asap.)

Thanks to that, I am constantly like ugh... it itchs and i can FEEL the build up but im trying SO HARD to not make another scab on my scalp that takes like a month to heal cause my stupid brain's "skin must be smooth in all directions" (like a shark 😉) means scabs go on the list of things it tells me that need to go too. Its super fun when The Brain forgets where my moles are and tries to convince me one is actually a blackhead or or something.

Point being I wanna be able to sctrach my head scales without my hair being in the way SO BAD right now. Even though i know its a bad idea

[mars-ipan]

still funny to me how i’m on strict doctor’s orders to Chill The Fuck Out and also i have a prescription for steroids for the next 6 days