#if he requires surgery? Covered

[skunkes]

someone needs to give cheye a lot of money so he can buy more art supplies to play with

[hala-15]

On the vernal equinox, March 21, 2024, my beloved baby was born and I named him Abdul Aziz. He was a beloved, innocent baby like any baby, but suddenly, a week after Abdul Aziz was born, he developed severe swelling in his abdomen. I visited several doctors specializing in pediatrics and neonatology to no avail

I performed several examinations and CT scans on the child to find out the cause, to no avail. Abdul Aziz's abdomen swelled significantly, which necessitated his immediate transfer to the hospital. There, in the presence of a pediatric surgeon, after a precise diagnosis, it was discovered that there was an intestinal obstruction preventing the baby from defecating.

Immediately, temporary conservative treatments were performed on the baby to remove the swelling, to no avail, until the doctor decided to perform a delicate surgical operation in which Abdul Aziz underwent general anesthesia when he was only 20 days old. The surgical operation aimed to create a lateral protrusion in the child's abdomen. Four samples were taken from the child's colon twice, under general anesthesia, to be examined in the laboratory. It was confirmed that part of Abdul Aziz's rectum had Hirschsprung's disease, and it was decided to perform a complex surgical operation a month from now to remove the affected part. I am speaking to you with great sadness and pain about my son's condition. At this age, he has undergone dozens of tests, blood samples, CT scans, and a large group of medications..

Now I ask you to support and donate to me to save Abdul Aziz and perform the operation after snoring from now on, and its cost may exceed 5000 US dollars.. I do not have this required amount and I do not want to postpone the date of the operation to solve Abdul Aziz's problem..

Your standing by me and supporting me is enough to improve the child's condition and perform the operation successfully.

What will we do with the money..

I will pay the money to cover the costs of the surgery as well as the costs of the hospital and the doctor and to buy the child's medications..

Help me save my baby

[katy-l-wood]

Top Surgery Fundraiser

Hello! I'm Katy L. Wood, an author and artist with a dayjob in wildland fire dispatch, and I need help funding my top surgery/breast reduction.

I made the decision to finally pursue surgery for the issue about two years ago, but have had to put it off due to moving across the state and going back to college, but now that I'm a little more settled it's time to just get this done. I am getting a reduction in general for all of the aforementioned reasons, but I have chosen to go completely flat for gender related reasons. I am not trans, but I am certainly not cis either and having any sort of noticeable breasts just does not align with how I want to present.

I have found a great surgeon here in Colorado, but he is a little more on the expensive side. The total quote for my surgery (including all follow up appointments, anesthesia, post-surgery garments, and the surgery itself) is just under $15,000. I pursued several different options, but every other surgeon I talked to required a year of therapy to get an official diagnosis of gender dysphoria (and so did all insurance covered options), and I am not willing to do that. I am not dysphoric, I honestly could live with my chest as it is from a gender perspective, it's just the functionality of it and the amount of pain it causes that is making me finally pull the trigger to get this done. The only gender related part is how much I want taken away because if I'm doing it, I may as well do it right.

Additionally, if my quote for surgery was, say, $10,000, but I had to have a year of therapy on top of that, plus pay health insurance premiums for a whole year to get that therapy, it'd probably come out to about the same cost if not MORE expensive. I figure it's quicker, easier, and cheaper to just get it done all in one go and not waste my time (or the time of a therapist with clients that actually need their services).

I have been working a TON of overtime this summer to try and save up as much as I can towards this surgery (150ish hours last month, and about 45 so far this month), but that won't get me all the way. I'm trying to get about $17000 total saved up to cover not only the surgery but post-surgery meds, transportation to and from the surgery, and some other general post-surgery comforts like a lot of easy-make food, food deliveries, pet sitting while I'm gone, etc.. Time off work thankfully shouldn't be an issue.

[re-lmayer]

i've found myself in a bad situation. the tl;dr is i have to move, but i can't afford to. i'm a disabled student and just do not have the funds required to rent a truck, hire movers, and cover deposits. so, i'm offering various services on my kofi, but if you don't need those you can also donate there or via paypal. my cashapp and venmo are both erinshelley91 if you'd like to donate on those platforms (i couldn't figure out how to link to those)

if you can't afford to commission me or to donate, reblogging this post and sharing my twitter thread is a free way to help me out and is so appreciated!

more context and stuff under the cut, i just don't want to make a long post on ppl's dashboards

my landlord has been cheating on his husband, and their relationship is rocky. he also has a massive spending addiction according to his husband. his spending addiction is making him not want to perform the actual duties of a landlord, because investment costs are cutting into his shopping spree funds

ex, he is illegally not fixing a leak in the shower of the upstairs tenants, and claims the costs are more than their rent. he told them to "figure it out, or get the fuck out." (verbatim.) he also told me it would be cheaper for him to not have tenants at all bc his utility bills would be smaller. he then left it to ME to inform another tenant to leave (then gaslit me and denied it in front of his husband when his husband questioned it)

in his words, we have 90 days to leave. i am disabled and a full time student and have been living on my fafsa returns, and the last job i had made one of my disabilities worse to the point i've had intensive physical therapy (several hours several times a week) and am likely going to have to undergo surgery

i'm also mi/nd, so even on a good day i'm not very well equipped to handle things, and the recent stress has also caused my therapist to see me several times a week in lieu of institutionalization

all that said, i'm not in a good spot physically or mentally, hence the best i can do right now is offer some of my skills on kofi

i'm currently working with my state's vocational rehab to try and find a suitable job until i can get my degree, but even then i simply would not be able to afford the costs of a sudden move in the timeframe i've got to work with

UPDATE MARCH 25, 2024: i want to invest in a scooter to do gig work like doordash. this will let me work at my own pace, and earn towards the move myself, then i'll have some more independence to continue doing that after as well

they require 50cc or under, which means i could get a scooter for under $1,000. i'd also need to cover fees to renew my license (i let it lapse since i haven't had a vehicle), get a helmet, and get insurance (roughly $100 annually)

i also made some amazon wishlists for folks who would like to help but prefer to know exactly where their money's going. i have one for housewarming stuff here, and one for necessities here

update as of april 5: my cat peed on my bed, and since it's a memory foam mattress it soaked all the way through and ruined it

update as of april 7: she did it again. this time there's blood in it

update as of april 14: i still haven't been able to take her to the vet, but i've been trying to do at home remedies

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

AHHHH CONGRATS ON 5k!!! Ok ok, hear me out on this request because I think it might make a good little fic. I can’t decide between Hesh or Price for this one but I got a general idea: stoned Hesh or Price. You know those videos of husbands waking up from surgery and not recognizing their wife right away but knowing they’re the most beautiful person in the world (something like this: https://youtu.be/kV8KyeApBJY). Well maybe it’s something like he got hurt from a mission (hurt enough to require drugs/anesthesia for the plot) but is recovering back at base and imagine their wife is their medic and she’s trying to update his team on how he’s recovering and you just got a stoned Hesh or Price completely hopped up on drugs following his injury, just fawning over her and he just goes bananas when she “reveals” they’re married. The team got a kick out of it

—Keep The Sheets Warm, My Love Is Coming Home

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [If this wasn't enough to prove that you were the only person for Hesh, you didn't know what did.] ❞

You walked around the room, tidying up what you could if only for the simple fact that it could distract you from the unconscious body in the bed. Realistically as a medic, you knew he would be fine—he was in the best hands possible—but Hesh had a track record for being unpredictable. 

He’d gotten into some trouble out in No Man’s Land again. Broken arm and ribs; a bullet through his thigh. He was so pumped full of medication and anesthetics from surgery that you doubted that he would be waking up soon.

But then again, Hesh was always surprising you. It was one of the reasons you’d married him, after all. Never a dull day.

Elias’s voice calls from the doorway. 

“You’re going to fall over at this rate,” you blink quickly, turning with an extra blanket in hand to spread around your husband’s comatose state. 

Your father-in-law has his arms crossed, and Logan slinks his way through the doorway with an arm looping your shoulders, a head pushed into your scalp silently. You sigh deeply, tension that you hadn’t realized was on your face lessening.

“Only if he keeps me from seeing those greens of his.” 

Logan huffs a laugh, squeezing you as his father grunts—the stern man’s eyes softening in a way they only would for you and his boys.

“He’d be more worried about you than himself if you did. Put my mind at ease, okay?” Your eyes roll but you nod with a small smile. You don’t argue with his point in the slightest. 

So, that was how you ended up here, in a seat by Hesh’s hospital bed—your hand in his and your head nodding back and forth with fatigue. Elias and Logan are casually playing a game of chess from across the room when David’s eyes flutter; his mouth releasing a low groan.

Your lids snap back, spine straightening, but before you can get a word out, your husband is pulling his hand from yours. His green eyes are loopy, pupils blown wide. 

He mutters something under his breath, lips grimacing and face pulling in at the sight of you. 

“Hesh?” The two men stand as you check his vitals, heart hammering until there’s nothing out of the ordinary and you can sit back down with a sigh and a relieved smile. “Take it easy, alright? You got out of surgery a little while ago—everyone’s here for you—”

“W…Where’s my wife?” His words slur, jaw loose as he rotates it; the unbroken arm with an IV chord stuck in it raises as jerky digits rub at his eyes. You’re left at a loss, blinking slowly in confusion before sharing looks with your in-laws. “No offense, Miss, you’re pretty and all, but…shit, why’s everything spinning?”

A hand covers your mouth, heated embarrassment lighting inside of your veins. 

“Hesh, Sweetheart,” your arm reaches to the brunette, trying to grab his wrist that he weakly moves away. 

“Stay away from me,” he grunts, head limply lulling on its pillow. “Thought I told you to keep it to yourself. My Wife’ll rip,” Hesh’s voice fizzles, a loud yawn peeling his bandaged face back, “you to pieces.” A pause. You hear Logan trying to hide his loud laughter behind his lips. “Did…the doctor send you?”

Your body turns to Elias, face beaming and expression exasperated. 

“Now that he’s awake will you get the other three? It’ll be easier to give the news to all of you at once.”

“Already commed ‘em,” the man states, watching his eldest with a raised brow and a slow smirk. “Least we know he’s a loose cannon on anesthesia.” 

Merrick, Keegan, and Ajax all file in, and as you continue to watch over a loopy Hesh, his small noises and babbling continue even when you give the breakdown of the patient sheet. You stand just shy of brushing the bed’s lower frame. You won’t lie and say it isn’t hilarious.

“He needs to keep out of the field for at least two and a half months, boys, and I’m not joking about that, alright?”

Your husband’s slow voice slashes through your speech, and the rest of the Ghosts snicker, sharing knowing looks as Hesh tries to lift the hand currently wrapped to his chest to keep it still. “You’re a real beautiful lady, Doll, y’know that? I’m sorry you like me so much, but I love my wife, you hear? Please don’t be angry with me.”

“Hesh, Darling,” you walk closer and bend down carefully. He blinked owlishly at you, finger coming up to poke at your cheek. Your hand grabs his as you hear Ajax make a quick remark to Keegan about the man being ‘totally whipped even when he’s high.’ 

“David, hey,” your voice prompts him to smile, perhaps now only realizing the familiarity of it. “I’m going to tell you something, hm?”

“Okay,” he watches, petting your neck with his thumb. 

“I am your wife.” The man’s eyes widen comedically as everyone shares a long laugh with one another. 

“No way,” Hesh breathes after a moment, awe-stricken. “Really?”

“Really.” There’s a moment of silence, and then the heart monitor begins to pick up its pace to a fast pound. Your face goes hot with love, and you bend your head forward in a long and honest laugh into his shoulder. 

Green eyes shift to the men, and Hesh beams, cheeks red and heart racing as he slurs out, “This is my wife?!”

It was safe to say they were never going to let him forget about this.

[andhumanslovedstories]

To the extent you feel comfortable sharing ofc - why do you need a mouth reconstruction? Is that something dental insurance doesn't cover?

Best of luck for your recovery <3

I have a combination of very weak enamel and furious teeth grinding. The combination meant that my teeth were sheered down until the enamel was gone. I was down to just the dentin underneath, which means my teeth were only going to start eroding faster. Multiple dental providers were saying that I was on track for dentures by fifty. I was super cold sensitive on one side, and I had a tooth pulled on the other side due to a botched root canal, which meant there was no way to comfortably chew many types of food. It was affecting what I’d choose to eat, and buddy I do NOT need more obstacles to eating. And just aesthetics-wise, my teeth’s appearance didn’t bother me enough to pay this much just for them to look better, but I didn’t love that they were permanently yellow and that my face was losing height due to how small my teeth were.

(I’m convinced my prosthedontist and my dental surgeon were both more bothered by the aesthetics of my mouth than I was. My surgeon literally said, “I bet you were pretty insecure about your teeth before this, right?” And I was like “ummmm not really?“ and he was like “really? I mean good! But please understand they look so much better.”)

So I got gum surgery and a base for a dental implant installed several months ago, and now I’ve got temporary crowns in which are actually these connected blocks of teeth that I need special floss to take care of.

They’re So Big and So White.

And tomorrow I get my permanent crowns which should look and feel like real teeth! And then after that I get fitted for a mouthguard to prevent me from wearing the new ones down to nubs as well. (You can use an over the counter mouth guard for grinding, which is what I was using while I was buying time to get my teeth fixed. I’m getting in custom fit in the hopes my jaw will be less sore when I wake up. Any mouthguard is better than no mouth guard if you’re a grinder though, trust me. Save yourself the enamel and the money.)

Speaking of money, I’ll be super blunt: in total, I paid about $8000 for the gum surgery and implant, and $36000 for almost entire mouth of new crowns (I’ve only got two original teeth left). Insurance covered a little over half the surgery fees and like $2k of the crowns. (My insurance will pay for up to 50% of the price of a crown every two years, and I need about twenty crowns all at once, so. Yeah.) I investigated going to Mexico or Canada to get the work done, but ultimately my dental situation is complicated enough to require coordination of multiple providers and regular check ups over many months. It was going to be to complicated to arrange that internationally, plus travel and lodgings, to be worth the diminishing amount of money I would save. I do think I could have gotten all this work done for cheaper, but I’m not sure if it actually would have been something I followed through on. And basically, the sooner I get this work done, the better in terms of face shape and teeth migration and all that, so I was like “fuck it let’s go,” so here we are. In twenty-four hours, I’ll have a brand new mouth.

[slushycoookie]

Shaving His Hair

Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x GN! Reader

Word Count: 776

Content: Fluff, lice, Miguel's curls are gone and he's bald! (No not really)

Summary: After an unexpected lice outbreak, you have to cut Miguel’s hair.

A/N: Miguel when his hair is shaved is hot as hell, I don't care what anyone says. Also this one is kinda connected to the washing his hair post I did so if you wanted to read that too, here.

There was a lice outbreak in HQ.

You would think a bunch of superheroes could combat a bunch of little bugs but no.

Miguel ordered anyone who had said lice to get it taken care of in their dimension. Or go to the infirmary for treatment. The leader of Spider Society thought he was safe. Trying to avoid anyone who had potential contact with someone with lice. He was wrong. That’s why you two were in the bathroom. His head was in his hands as he sat on the toilet while you laid out the required tools. All set up like you were about to conduct surgery.

“This was your idea.” You reminded him while putting on rubber gloves. “The doctor said we could try the treatment and see what happens. You don't have to cut it.”

Miguel’s head shook, not wanting to look at what was about to happen. “The doctor said my case was more serious. It's best to cut it all off.” You were about to argue some more. Try to get him to see reason. But he stared at you with large eyes, knowing what he had to do despite not liking the decision. “It's my hair.”

He was right. 

You wanted to support him, reassure him you were always going to be on his side. So you got the clippers ready. You weren't a professional but you knew how to cut hair. You surfed the internet to look up tips to make sure it wasn't uneven. Miguel wanted to get everything over with but you were determined to make his hair look nice.

The buzz from the clipper filled the bathroom. You started from the front, placing his head back to get a good view. The device hovered over his hairline as you wanted to give him one more chance.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Yes.” Miguel huffed, “I'm not changing my mind.”

“Alright, alright. Just checking.”

You ran the blade towards you, chunks of hair falling off and hitting the ground. Bye bye curls. Your eyes couldn't help but go wide at the fact you could see his head. Now you were picturing how he would look shaved. With that sharp jawline and high cheekbones. Miguel was going to be attractive regardless of his hairstyle.

“Any day now…”

You stuck your tongue out at him before continuing. Dragging the clipper down his head. Locks cascading down on his covered shoulders. You did your best to get all the extra hair you could, making sure he didn't look a hot mess. 

Once you were done, it was time to wash it. You suggested doing it at the kitchen sink as you didn't feel like going in the shower.

“Really? We're doing this in the kitchen?” He asked.

“Don’t worry. I already cleaned it.” You pointed down to get him to bend over. Thank goodness for stools as you stood on it to get a good angle. The shampoo for lice had a minty scent. Almost medicinal when you rubbed your fingers along his scalp. The scent was strong enough to bring tears to your eyes. You hoped your partner wasn't having a worse time due to his enhanced senses.

“How you doing?” 

Miguel grunted and you couldn't help but snort. “I'm fine.”

“At least one of us is.” You blinked repeatedly to get yourself together before rinsing him off. As much as you weren't a fan of the shampoo, you wanted to be thorough. Much to yourself and apparently his chagrin, you did another wash. It was better the second time around, your eyes getting itself together this time. There weren't any complaints from Miguel either. 

With the lice vanquished and the prevention solution working, you dried him off with a towel. You grabbed the mirror from the bathroom and held it up to his face to see what you did. Miguel examined himself. Head tilting from side to side while trying to see how he looked. 

“My head…it's so…square looking.”

You snickered, “It's a very handsome square look.”

Miguel playfully glared at you, “So you agree? That I'm square?”

“When you wear those glasses, yeah.” He pulled you in for a hug, not tolerating your teasing. “Okay, okay! I'm joking, you actually look pretty handsome.”

He held up the mirror once more. Seeing yourself and him in the reflection. “I do?”

“Yes. My handsome baby.” You peppered his face with kisses. The medicinal scent from the shampoo still lingering. “Oh by the way, you should find the person who started that outbreak. So this doesn't happen again.”

Miguel pursed his lips, having the same thought. “Yeah, good idea.”

[noybusiness]

Save Bugga!

People, please donate at least a little something if you see this; it's about saving a cat's health and life (as this condition will ultimately be fatal if it spreads) and it'll add up. Having lost my sweet Rumball recently to kidney disease, I hate the thought of anything serious happening to a cat when it can be prevented.

Below is the link and message from the creator of the GoFundMe. This is a housemate of a close friend of mine and my friend sees their cat every day, so I know for a fact this is for real.

(Oh, and I thought this goes without saying, but you don't need to tip GoFundMe itself when you donate, so please set the tip level to 0% and don't tip them anything if that would put you off from donating, just send the actual cat the money you want to send.)

"Hi friends!

Jaal [Bugga] was diagnosed with Stage III Peridontal Disease and requires surgery. With a grateful heart, I am humbly asking for help raising funds to help cover the cost of this upcoming procedure. I am just getting on my feet after years of my struggling with my own back to back surgeries, and my budget is very tight. Based on the preliminary examination, our vet predicts that he will need to have some teeth removed. The sooner Bug is able to have this procedure done, the more likely it is that the we can stop the disease from spreading so he may keep the majority of his teeth, and preserve his quality of life."

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Farmer! Sandor Clegane Headcanon

don't own these pics

Summary: Just a few headcanon of Sandor Clegane as a farmer.

A/N: Thinking about this man as a farmer has me down on my knees. Comment and like below, maybe I can do next farmer Sandor meeting reader. Enjoy-L || Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Warning: SFW, sad childhood, Sandor being himself, dog dad,

Farmer!Sandor always knew he wanted to be a farmer from a young age. He liked working with his hands and moving around. He never wanted a desk job, he couldn't imagine his 6 '6 self sitting on a small computer chair for nine hours a day, five days a week. He had low patience dealing with idiot people, so retail was out of the question, any job that required dealing with people was a no. So far the only thing talking back to him were the animals on the farm and he was content with that. 

Farmer!Sandor isn't much of a people person but he will sometimes invite Tormund, a worker from the market he goes to for groceries once in a while over to watch the game or just for a beer. Sandor only does it because Tormund doesn't shut up about coming over. After two six-packs, Tormund isn't so bad to be around and he doesn’t ask him about his scars. 

Farmer!Sandor gets up right before the rooster crow at dawn. He likes to watch the sunrise while drinking black coffee. He nibbles on some toast or some corn muffins. On Sunday, he makes a big breakfast meal since it's the only day he rest. Eggs, bacon sometimes with ham and grits. 

Farmer!Sandor wears a white beater shirt and his dark coarse chest hair peeks out. It shows off his broad shoulders and his muscular arms, it was all thanks to the hard manual labor he does. He ties his long hair with a black hair band, he keeps a spare around his wrist. He wears old blue jeans that hang low on his hips. Sometimes he wears a flannel shirt, when it gets too hot, he takes it off and wraps it around his hips. He wears these heavy size 12 boots with rubber outsoles on them. 

Farmer!Sandor sweats alot after a long day of work. He uses the flannel to wipe the sweat off his forehead, neck and tone arms. He showers immediately after walking into the house. He leaves the boots outside and goes into the shower to clean the dirt and sweat off of his body. He makes sure he cleans himself, rubbing the body wash thoroughly through his chest hair and his long hair. 

Farmer!Sandor walks out of the shower and looks at himself in the mirror. His burn scars are a bit red from being out in the sun all day. He reminds himself for tomorrow to wear his hat. He grabs face cream from the medicine cabinet to help with the redness. Some days Sandor can't stand the sight of him, that's why he liked being alone in his farmhouse. He dislikes the stares and pointing he got when going into town. 

Farmer!Sandor still has issues about his face, it has gotten much better after going to the doctors. He has even done surgery for his hair to grow a bit, he usually combs his hair over to cover the slightly bald spot. He applies oils on his beard regularly and it helped his beard grow a bit back. His right brow has grown a bit as well, but the burn scars on his cheek and ear are still very visible. 

Farmer!Sandor dresses comfy to get started on dinner. He walks into the kitchen and turns on the radio or sometimes the tv. He's listening to the news while cutting some veggies he has grown from his garden in the backyard. He usually grills his steak in the backyard when he's not tired. Opening a beer, he sits down and eats in silence. Sometimes he eats in front of the tv and watches whatever is playing. He's not picky on what to watch on tv. 

Farmer!Sandor was on the field the next day on the tractor when he heard barking. He turns it off and looks over his shoulders to see it was a dog a few feet away from him. There isn't usually strays around, he makes sure of it since he has some chickens and pigs. He walks towards the dog, its shaggy fur is white and gray. Its ears are floppy and its tongue is hanging out as it pants. 

“You alright, pup?” He asked, not really expecting it to answer but to his surprise. It barks at him, making him smile.

He carefully stretches his hand out when he notices it wasn't going to bite. He pats its head and even scratches behind its ears. Asking if it wants to eat, the dog’s tail starts wagging like crazy. Sandor decides he’ll have lunch early that day. He smiles once more when he notices it’s following him all the way to the house.  He sits outside on the porch swing as he eats his sandwich and drinks a cold glass of ice tea. He watches the dog eat the leftover steak from dinner last night. 

Farmer!Sandor decides to keep the dog after it kept following him everywhere for the past week. When he finds out it’s a girl, he decides to name it after his little sister, Ellie. The dog didn’t seem to mind, it followed him whenever he said it. He liked having company, it was less lonely when he wasn’t working. He lets Ellie sleep on the foot of his bed.

Farmer!Sandor doesn't smoke that much, he really only does it when he has a rough day. He’s sitting on the porch swing with a beer in one hand and the cigarette in the other. Since he’s alone, he does alot of thinking as he watches the sunset. He thinks about his life before he started to farm. He has been thinking about his little sister lately since the dog came around. His little sister was his best friend when he was younger. He had told her about his dream of having a farm. He smiles to himself as he remembers her telling him that he had to have horses for her to ride. He promised her that he would when he was a kid he had even promised her that he would have two horses so they could ride together. 

Farmer!Sandor didn't have a good childhood, his parents were never around and his older brother was a bully. His older brother was the one to burn him when he was a kid. While holding his face on the hot coals, his little sister tried to help him. She hit the older brother on the back with her tiny fist. Furious that she was hitting him, he had smacked her. He hit her so hard that she fell back and slammed her head on the coffee table. Ellie lost a lot of blood on the way to the hospital and did not survive. His older brother was 18 at the time and was sentenced to prison. Parents couldn't handle it and left Sandor, who was placed in foster care. 

Farmer!Sandor gets brought back to reality when he feels Ellie rubbing her head against his knee. He threw the cigarette out and placed the beer on the small table near him. He pats the seat next to him and makes sure that the swing doesn't move as Ellie jumps up next to him. He leans back as she rests her head on his lap. Sandor pats her head softly as he looks over across the field and stares at the half built stable he was building, he was going to get those horses and complete his promise to his sister. 

[aljarofamily]

Please don't skip!

Please help my family 🇵🇸

🫂Family needs financial help in Gaza! Mother suffers from cancer🫂

Dear compassionate souls,

I write to you today with a plea that weighs heavily upon my heart. My name is Saed, a lawyer and musician from Gaza—a region tragically engulfed in the relentless flames of conflict. Amidst the chaos, my family has become ensnared, facing imminent danger and desperation beyond words.

My journey began as I traveled to Egypt to stand by my beloved mother during her grueling battle with cancer, a fight that commenced back in 2020. My mother has been battling this relentless disease for nearly five years. She underwent surgery to remove the tumor, but unfortunately, the operation was not entirely successful, as the tumor could not be fully removed. As a result, the cancer cells spread to other areas, affecting her bladder and rectum. This has caused her immense suffering over the years. She endured intense chemotherapy sessions, which took a severe toll on her overall health. Currently, she is receiving immunotherapy treatment. It is fortunate that the primary treatment, immunotherapy, is covered by the Palestinian Ministry of Health. However, some of the regular tests and imaging scans we need to monitor her condition are not covered.

On December 3, 2023, our family home was mercilessly destroyed, further exacerbating our already dire situation. Trapped within the war-torn confines of Gaza, my father Akram (71 years old), sister Wajd (21 years old), and brother Mahmoud (33 years old) found themselves clinging to survival amidst the rubble of our once cherished home. The harrowing ordeal of narrowly escaping the bombing left them seeking refuge in a shelter in the northern reaches of the Gaza Strip.

After

Before

During these tumultuous circumstances, we face a severe lack of funding. As I mentioned previously, I am currently residing in another country to support my mother, whose cancer treatment requires additional procedures not covered by the Palestinian Ministry of Health.

Your support in this critical hour is more than a mere act of kindness; it is a beacon of hope amidst the darkness of despair. Each contribution, no matter how small, serves as a lifeline, offering the promise of safety and the prospect of a brighter tomorrow.

With deep gratitude and unwavering hope, I extend my sincerest appreciation to you for your generosity, compassion, and unwavering solidarity in our shared humanity.

In solidarity and gratitude,

Saed

[augustsprincess]

August Walker x Reader drabble

Plot: August walker survived the crash and the fall, barely. He spends half a year in hospital receiving treatment and protection. After a lot of surgery and reconstruction he's allowed home, but not without a live-in nurse.

Warnings: Mentions of injury, bandages, medication and most of all S.M.U.T.

Half of his face his bandaged. One of his legs is damn near hanging off. He's had a LOT of surgery to reconstruct and fix things. When he's finally able to leave the hospital he requires a nurse to live with him for the next 4 months.

You draw the short straw, and begin to realise what a stubborn idiot the man is.

Pretending he doesn't need your help, making your job so much harder. Refusing to eat when you cook. Refusing to even move onto his side when you need to check his bandages on his back.

After days of coaxing him into good behaviour you find his sense of humor and he begins to warm to you, ever so slightly. He's a little more accepting of your cooking and treatment.

After a few more days he starts to change. Is he....flirting with you? It must be the medication you're giving him. The little pet names he starts to give you make you blush and you don't think he realises that when he winks, the bandage over his other eye makes it less obvious. But you chuckle either way.

What you don't expect, is to walk into his bedroom to redo his bandages and find him him on his front, grunting and thrusting frustratedly. After letting out a weak yelp you leave the room straight away and decide to give him half an hour. You don't think he even realized, but there's a certain sheen of sweat over his chest and forehead when you return.

Another week passes and the flirting becomes more obvious, though his dosage of medication gets less and less. It was real. You figured he was messing with you and you even let him get away with the couple of ass smacks he gives you.

Yet another week passes and you're in the study, cleaning his desk out of sheer boredom. As he's gotten healthier you had less to do during the day. You hum as you polish the wooden surface, just loud enough to cover the sound of the click of the door handle as August enters the room.

The cloth slips across the wood with ease as you put some elbow grease into it.

Your waist is gripped tight by two bear-like hands and you let out a loud shriek as you're hoisted back against a solid surface.

"Mr. Walker!" You yell in surprise, his purrs in your ear causing butterflies to erupt in your chest. "What are you doing, Sir?" You retort, but he just moans into your ear and before long you realise there's a distinctly solid object thrusting up against your backside.

"Shhhh" He coo's, gently thrusting against you. Using you for his own pleasure. "Please, it's been so fucking long. Just let me..."

"Sir, I could lose my job if they-"

"HUSH!" He interrupts you with a booming voice, pulling you tighter to his chest and dragging his clothed cock against the crevice of your ass. His groans and thrusts become much more erratic, slamming your hands down on the clean desk, caging you between his huge arms. "I need....you...God you feel so...."

"Please, Sir..." You beg. "I don't wanna lose my job, Sir-"

"Hush now baby, please. Daddy needs you to behave for him. He won't tell a soul." He presses gentle and chaste kisses along the side of your neck.

"But, Sir, I-" You protest yet again.

"Enough, babygirl. Enough, enough, enough....Daddy's gonna take care of you, job or not. Just....be a good girl for me."

"O-okay, Sir. I'll be good..." August releases your hands.

"God, good girl. Can daddy take your panties off?" He lifts your skirt and you find yourself agreeing just as he pulls your panties down. You miss the solid wall behind you when August takes a step back, but once he kicks off his pyjama bottoms he returns. "Is my baby girl on the pill?" He asks, pressing a kiss to the very top of your back.

"Yes, Mr. Walker." You whisper, pushing your ass up against his front. He growls before plunging into your walls with no warning. Together you yelp in unison as his fills you to the brim with his cock, and god was he gifted.

"Fuck, baby girl. You're making Daddy-" Thrust. "So" Thrust. "Fucking" Thrust. "Happy."

August pushes your back until your entire torso is flat against the desk, ass pushed up towards him as he starts to fuck you with no relent.

"Sir, be careful! Don't hurt yourself-" You warn as he fucks you harder. You want him to go faster but you're worried about his condition.

"I'm fine, darling girl. Daddy's been a bad boy." He grunts, his cock hitting your cervix and causing a wave of pleasure to build. "Daddy's been better for quite a while now, but he needed to surprise you." His thrusts are harder and harder with each word. "Oh baby! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm gonna- ARGH!" With a roaring yell he shoots his load, painting your walls as he fills you up to the hilt with his still-hard cock. He doesn't stop for almost a minute after, becoming slower and slower as his cock softens. You feel beads of sweat fall from his forehead, hitting your back as he slows to a stop.

Your shared erratic breaths begin to calm as August lays over your back for a few moments, cock still inside you just barely. "Fuck me, baby girl. Where have you been my whole life?" With a harsh slap to your ass he stands up, pulling his pants back up.

You stand up fully but before you can bend to reach for your panties, he's kicked them away from you. "No panties in my house, baby. I want access at all times." You nod your head. You go to leave the room but you realise suddenly you'd never seen the man stand up before. He was tall. Really tall. With an imposing posture even with all of the bandages and stitches littering his face and body. You were a little nervous to approach him, even though you'd just had him slamming you into a desk repeatedly from behind. You clear your throat, thinking of a way to cut the tension.

"We should probably change my bandages." August announces. He knew you were uncomfortable. You nod your head and finally walk towards the door. As you're about to slip past the man he gently grabs a hold of your shoulders with both hands. "Come here..." He very gently commands. His face warms with a smile as you gingerly step towards him.

"Sir?" You whisper, your doe eyes making him melt where he stood. August's left arm snakes its way around your waist, and you're literally swept from your feet as he lifts you to his face. At long last, he presses his lips against yours in a devastatingly searing kiss. It felt as if you'd been waiting months, and you suppose you had. You hoped that he had too. As moments pass, August's kiss becomes more passionate but eventually he breaks away from you. With a lovesick smile on his face he places you back on the ground. Touching your face with his index finger he begins to laugh.

"Can I keep you? Please?". He's almost begging. But who are you to resist such a man? Nodding your head, you agree.

If you knew how demented this man was, how twisted his mind was. You may have been able to escape in time. But it was too late now.

As he purred in your ear, nuzzling your nose with his you smiled in sweet bliss. You were trapped. He had his hooks in you and there was no way in hell he'd ever let you go now. But as long as he loved you, nothing else mattered.

[brucewaynehater101]

In my evil era. I've come to spread the misery

So I read a wingfic a while ago and I recall there being a titans tower scene where Tim tried to fly away but Jason grabbed him by the wing and his wing got fucked but don't quote me on that

So here's my idea

=======

Author decision on if anybody other than Tim has wings or other bird features and instincts, but Tim has bird traits like wings, talons, bird noises and maybe a tail if you pick

And for whatever reason, Tim hides his bird features

Who cares if binding his wings and other means of hiding it has proven time and time again to have horrific effects on one's health in studies older than him?

It's annoying how during the night—typically when he's Robin—he needs to take off the bindings and whatnot to keep himself from deteriorating too fast but it is what it is

Besides, his cape covers it up and he's trained in passing for human

It isn't until his wings are used against him in battle—like say a goon or a rogue (maybe even Jason at Titans Tower) being lucky enough to grab them and beat him black and blue due to it—does he reconsider how he views his wings

Tim Drake became Robin with a mission. A mission to restore Batman to the symbol of Justice he was withering from, one that expanded to putting everything into supporting all heroes

But more importantly his generation of Teen Titans and the Bats

His wings were just used against him, and in such a serious way that he's lucky he could nurse himself back to health

It was one time too many

He has a mission

The deadline is Death

=======

The next morning, Luthor Corp down hundreds of millions and they'll never notice until months later. Too late to recover the assets

=======

"Mind letting me in on what it is I'm guarding or even assisting you for?"

"We covered this in the contract Deathstroke; You guard this safehouse and in the future me while I take care of a very time-sensitive case. Benifits are just as negotiated.

"I will be locking myself in the room I will do my work. You are under no circumstances to enter unless told to. Rest assure, it can fufill my physical needs.

"If I open the door and I say 'Asylum,' it means I will be out of the safehouse for a time where you are to protect my room in addition to the rest of the safehouse until I return.

"If I open the door and say 'visitors' or shout it through the walls, it means we're being invaded through my room, and you have all the permission you need to kick down the door to come and assist me.

"If I open the door and say 'mission half-finished,' do so through the walls, or by passing a paper with that text, it means I've finished my mission with no loose ends, but am injured and require your assistance in my recovery.

"And if anybody ever asks; you had to take care of personal matters during your haitus, the Bats will never even come to mind when inquired on this period you're off the grid"

=======

Weeks or Months later (authors pick)

A paper slowly shifts under the door, he picks it up

Mission Half-Finished

he forced the door open to his client shivering on the floor

=======

the timeline is as goes;

Tim tells the bats he's going to be off the grid for a few months for a mission

Tim hacks LexCorp for Lex's future paychecks and assets to-be used for villanous plots

Tim contacts Deathstroke to be a glorified bodyguard + maybe physical therapist/doctor for an indefinite time

gg

25% upfront pay. Deathstroke will only recieve the remaining pay if he fufills his duties as followed and doesn't bail or rat Tim out

Half the reason Deathstroke is being paid six figures is to stay hush

Tim isolates himself in a room that can fufill his needs for a time

Tim isn't working on a case at all. He is preforming surgery on himself to get rid of his wings, tail, and maybe other bird traits, everything short of instincts (or not, your pick lol)

After Tim is finished, he does end up needing Deathstroke's help recovering from the aftermath, but he does everything to make the mercenery believe that it was a mission that fucked him up

Tim recovers and gives Deathstroke the rest of the 75% pay

Deathstroke leaves the safehouse while Tim stays a bit longer to tie up loose ends

Loose ends tied

LexCorp learns of the stolen money and assets, tries, and fails to find where they went

extra notes

That 'Asylum' code word was meant to throw Deathstroke a false trail to follow if he ever gets curious about what Tim was getting up to during their contract

The 'visitors' was in case the safehouse did get broken into, and 'Mission Half-Finished' in the likely case Tim legit needed treating the aftermath or physical therapy after what he did

SO yeah. This could go a lot of ways

(assume when I say wings, I use it as an umbella term for all his removed bird traits)

In Tim's ideal world, he's either bury his wings where they would rapidly rot into nothing, or keep them in his house or safest, secure, and isolated place where he preserves them and looks at them to remind himself to never let anything, anything bring him down again

But he doesn't live there

Maybe the Bats find out that Tim lost his wings, and later on, that Tim did it to himself, and are promptly horrified but Tim is all like "they were pulling me back, I had to for the mission!"

Cue more horror

Esp if Jason was the one to yank Tim by the wings

Maybe whoever yanked Tim by the wings assumes it's common knowledge that Tim is birdy^2 and is confused when everyone says the Robin is human or at least has no wings

Imagine if it's not even a rogue but a goon who even has photo evidence of the Robin's wings but recent photos, he doesn't have them at all?

And word spreads a Robin literally had his wings torn from him literally and it reaches rogues and even the Bats?

All hell breaks loose

Deathstroke thinks he's safe because he was 'busy with his personal life' until he realizes the Robin they're talking about is the one that hired him and needed his help recovering from something

He is screaming, he didn't wanna be caught up in this!

Or perhaps Deathstroke gets suspicious about the possibility he's been lied to on the contract despite how squeaky clean everything seems, and gives up that 75% to confront Tim

Only to find the kid just starting or in the middle of surgically removing his wings

Or maybe Deathstroke sniffs around after Tim needs his help recovering from his mission and find's the stash of wings he's planning to dispose of or preserve

either way he's going "What the Capital F Fuck is this?"

=======

I think any conversation between people and Tim could be dumbed down to this

"Why did you remove your'e wings??!"

"They were a burden, besides, it's not like I'm becoming disabled am I? I'm just becoming more passing for human then ever"

"That's not how it works!!"

Ooh. Okay. I think, in this AU, most of the Bats don't have wings. The exception would be Duke and Babs (Cass used to as well, but they were taken from her). For Barbara, the bullet that injured her spine also went through one of her wings.

I think Cass, who would bond with Tim using their bird instincts and who's wings were forcibly taken, would be especially devastated.

You're absolutely correct that Tim would do such a fucked up thing, but gods does it hurt.

[misscammiedawn]

Gender, Dissociation and Clinical Stigma - The Third Person

Before I begin I just want to note that typically Media, Myself and I entries are aimed at depictions of dissociative disorders in popular fiction. Today's entry is a graphic novel memoir by a transgender woman with dissociative identity disorder. As it's both not in the public zeitgeist and good representation by virtue of being lived experience of someone who struggled within the mental healthcare system I want to recommend people buy the book (or check it out of their local library). I fully support the artist and want to prop up something good and beautiful.

With that said, let's begin...

CW: therapy abuse

With all the recent hysteria in the US and UK media over transgender healthcare it can be easy to forget the hurdles we all have to climb to receive care. Though Informed Consent is becoming more of a standard practice these days the DSM-5 Criteria for Gender Dysphoria indicates a 6 month requirement for observation before HRT can be prescribed. Many of us needed to jump the hoops of living 6-12 months "in the gender role that is congruent with their gender identity" before we were allowed to begin our gender journey in earnest.

Of course. This requires a clinician (or two for surgical options) to observe this, monitor it and sign off on it. But therapists are humans and are full of prejudice, bias and their own beliefs. They aren't guaranteed to think it is medically necessary or positive for a person seeking gender affirming care to receive it.

So where does DID fit into this picture?

A study, published in 2015, states clearly that 30% of transgender individuals met the criteria for a dissociative disorder.

Yet even still, The World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH), the gold standard for transgender care included this warning in their Standards of Care up until September 2022.

(source)

Fortunately that passage is no longer included in WPATH guidelines as of the 8th revision released in 2022. I shall say the above passage did grant a scare for us, though, as it was very much the practice when we were going for our surgery.

Standards of Care improve and medical understandings of both gender and dissociative care are becoming kinder towards clients.

Even still. There's always that fear. That months of therapy could be wasted on a clinician who was never going to sign off on HRT and was never going to believe our lived experience as a system.

We wouldn't have gotten nearly half as far as we have gotten without our therapist helping us identify our condition, manage our symptoms and develop cooperation and communication.

It's terrifying to think what life would be like if our symptoms not only went unmanaged, but we were made to feel fake and attention seeking by the very person we paid to take care of us...

-

With that intro in mind, The Third Person by Emma Grove is a memoir told in graphic novel format over 920 pages covering the period of life where she began therapy in hopes of receiving feminizing HRT not realizing she had an undiagnosed case of dissociative identity disorder.

When one opens the book they will see an Author's Note declaring that every word in the book is as accurate as Emma's memory will allow and any edits are to streamline the story, not to tailor anything to match the author's point of view and there is a dedication:

"For Katina - We finally did one together"

The story proper begins in media res Winter 2004, as Emma asks her therapist if he would like to hear about the book she was reading and the therapist responds asking why the client decided to speak with him "as Emma" today. Emma, confused, does not understand the question and is probed about her parts, about Ed and Katina and about her childhood. That last word being enough to cause Emma to freeze up, dissociate and...

This simple intro gives us all the context a reader needs to understand the antagonistic dynamic between Toby, the therapist, and his patient(s). Both client and patient are unable to understand the other and harbor suspicions about the other's intentions.

Without the context we only know Emma had a book, she no longer has a book and she suspects her therapist of being a mean person who is playing tricks on her.

We will get context later.

The first chapter of the book provides an introduction to the author's late teens and early 20s where they explore their gender identity and have their first experiences with their masked dissociative disorder.

The book goes to lengths to show the stress of the author dividing themselves between having to present male in their public life and sneaking out to bars where they can wear make-up, wigs and outfits to present female.

They take on their legal name, Ed, during their public life and when going out to clubs take the name Katina, from the first bar they visited presenting femme. The name Emma comes later when the system is working to transition into living as a woman in all aspects of their shared life.

The book patiently explores the stress of having to divide ones own self for their safety in spaces where they cannot present their truth without threat from an intolerant society. If 30% of transgender people suffer from dissociative disorders then a much higher number of them know the stress of having to compartmentalize themselves into different presentations for different audiences.

For us, we know that pain all too well. Our birth identity remains with us as a member of our own system. Less a ghost of our past and more a remnant of a mask we constructed to perform the version of self required for our safety.

The artwork does a good job of displaying switches and co-consciousness with subtle expression work, the hair style/wigs that each alter favors. For example we have the left displaying co-consciousness and a switch.

As the years go on, Katina finds ways to go out to the club and exist in her comfort and Ed labors hard to ensure that they can live for the times they get to "become" themselves.

Katina is established to be a fierce personality who will get aggressive when people push against her. She loves to dance and sing and party at the club. She is both a free spirit without inhibition and a fierce protector who will keep the system safe.

I recall feeling a deep fondness and connection towards Katina when we first read the book.

Once the narrative has firmly established the history that lead to the system seeking HRT we are brought into the meat of the book. A white void with a sofa and an armchair. The therapist's office where Katina, Emma and Ed speak with Toby.

Toby is a trans man that Katina believes to be an ally who will sign off on their HRT once the prerequisite 3 month waiting period is over. Unfortunately over the course of those months Toby becomes aware of Emma and Katina's switches and is convinced that it would be unethical for him to sign off on HRT when it is possible that there may be another 'guy part' in there who will 'wake up' one day and decide that he did not want to transition.

To his credit, once Toby suspects a dissociative disorder he does offer Emma a referral to a specialist. They do not take it as they just want to be signed off for HRT and have no interest in exploring their situation beyond transitioning. So they stick with Toby, convinced that another transgender individual will support them.

Toby, however, sticks to his guns and refuses to agree until they manage the DID.

In the opening, sampled above, Emma switches out at the mere mention of her childhood. Here we find that Katina will front any time Emma is made to think about her past and she refuses to allow Toby to force her to think about it or discuss it. She goes as far as to demand Toby promise not to push which, again, Toby refuses.

During this conflict both sides have exaggerated gestures of frustration, many exclamation points and underlined words. This is not a healthy dialogue at all. Toby is refusing to find middle ground or guide the therapy towards its intended destination. He denies all Katina's attempts to negotiate around the need to talk about her childhood (something she is convinced at this point has nothing to do with her stated goal of HRT) and continuously pushes that she needs to talk about it, without elaborating as to why.

Toby, untrained in dissociative disorders, is focused on getting her to open up about her childhood trauma. Katina, uninterested in exploring trauma, wants to be signed off for HRT. Neither side is willing to budge.

This isn't therapy. This is an argument.

Recently I wrote a Tumblr post about the "Hair Dryer Incident"

The Hair Dryer Incident is a story about a patient with OCD whose life was being massively disrupted by the fear that they had left their hair dryer plugged in at home and it would burn their house down. The clinician advised them to take the hair dryer to work with them every day so that they could see the hair dryer with them and not have to drive home to ensure it was safely unplugged.

There was debate in medical circles about whether this was "enabling" because it did nothing to treat the illness, only managed the life disrupting symptom of needing to drive home to check that the dryer was not plugged in.

For Toby in this scenario he believes that allowing Emma to transition would be "enabling" the sickness that he perceives, that being dissociative identity disorder. He has brought his own baggage into the office and only views Emma and Katina as parts of Ed. No amount of Emma and Katina self-advocating in his eyes will change his mind because they are not "real" in his view.

Of course, he is not fully sold on Emma's condition being real either. There is a sequence in which Emma is left alone in the room and she, having a fascination with books, checks out Toby's bookshelf. This causes Toby to become suspicious and decide that Emma has been reading the medical textbooks on dissociative disorders in order to fake an illness and trick him.

This is not a healthy therapeutic alliance and Toby is breaking all 3 key pillars of establishing a strong patient/client partnership.

Much of modern therapy techniques are based on the concept of Therapeutic Alliance. The history of which dates back to Sigmund Freud and the concept of transference but was refined and redefined by Carl Rogers in the modern Patient Centered Therapy (sometimes referred to as Rogerian Therapy).

With that in mind let's examine the 3 key elements of successful PCT(*) and how Toby failed.

Lead with a Patient Centered Approach This means to check all baggage at the door. Cultural biases have no room inside the clinic (during the book Toby openly mocks Emma's faith in God) and that the patient's priorities are the ones that should be focused on. Both client and clinician should be on the same page of what treatment is being sought, what goals are and how they will be achieved. Toby and Emma (or Katina and Ed) never establish this agreement during their time together. Katina/Emma/Ed are firm in their desire to transition and Toby is firm on his refusal to allow this until the DID is addressed.

Set clear goals with a treatment plan. A good treatment plan will have dates, targets and regular review and reward honesty for both/all parties involved in the alliance. Toby is telling Emma and Katina that they need to open up about their childhood but does not explain how this will benefit or what their goals are. Simply "it's good to talk about it" with no direction or assurances.

Regularly review satisfaction with the therapeutic process, relationship, and treatment plan. This element states that it is important that the clinician be upfront with any potential misdiagnosis and discuss any skepticism in the process and lead from a position of patient satisfaction. I do not need to highlight how Toby failed to lead from a position of patient satisfaction here.

Clearly Toby has a personal concept of what the correct approach is and is holding Emma/Katina's gender affirming care hostage until they can satisfy his unspoken objectives. Correctly applied PCT should be a discussion of mutual agreement and achievable goals worked over a period of time. Toby is not applying these principals at all. His modality simply seems to be "talk about it." I'll be an ethical writer who discloses their biases and say I despise PCT/Rogerian therapy. It is, however, the leading modality within western therapy and it is well researched. Not to mention it is the modality Toby appears to be utilizing in the book. I firmly disagree with Freud on all things (except the concept of infant experiences have lifelong ramifications. A broken clock is right twice a day) and disagree with Rogers on the idea that the client has all of the answers and needs to get out of their own way. An issue with this is that DID is a covert disorder and it will do everything it can to stay hidden. PCT does not offer an environment where patients will be able to navigate their condition as unless they are aware of their symptoms, how and when they manifest and are open to discussing those facts they will naturally steer away from circumstances that would lead to a diagnosis. Most people, including myself, have to exist in the mental healthcare system for 5-12 years before being correctly diagnosed with DID(*) and will experience a number of incorrect diagnoses before finding appropriate care. For us it was 9 years and 7 diagnoses. So. Toby's directive is that the system needs to get to the root of the condition and neither Katina nor Emma are willing to open up about their childhood. Katina continues sticking to her guns and refuses but Emma, desperate to start her medical transition, agrees to open up and the two form a shaky alliance where week by week the pair go back and forth between alliance and conflict. In time Emma describes her childhood being raised by her grandfather who was physically abusive towards her. All too quickly Katina's fears are justified by Toby's combative approach to patient care. One session Emma demands to know why she cannot work on her DID while she transitions and Toby states firmly that she is "not transsexual" which triggers Emma to dissociate into a black void that no one can reach her within. She wanted to be seen and regarded as a woman and a trans man told her flat out that he cannot and does not see her as such. Going back to the hair dryer incident as a reference for a moment. Ed is a member of the system and does show up for therapy on some days. At a point Katina, fed up with being denied treatment, makes a plan to quit their job and start a new life living as a woman 24/7. Ed creates a safety net to prevent this from ruining their collective life and continues to work in the meanwhile. Ed's role in the system has been ground down to working and working alone. He spends his days keeping so busy that he cannot dwell, a panel having the thought bubble "I can't slow down! If I slow down I have to think!" which is depressingly relatable to how we were in the worst years of repressing our gender identity. If Ed is unhappy living as a closeted man who has to occupy himself 24/7 to stop from caving in on himself, if Emma and Katina are both completely stunted by their inability to transition; is it ethical to allow them to transition and to work on their condition while allowing them the freedom to live openly as their chosen gender and prevent a circumstance that is harming the entire system? Toby seems to think it is enabling.

30% of the transgender individuals in the study above were observed to meet the criteria for a dissociative disorder. Living a life where one must mask has severe detrimental impacts on a person's psychology. This is true not just for transgender individuals but for those with autism (*) and other individuals on the LGBT spectrum (*) where the cognitive dissonance between who a person values themselves to be versus how they must present to the world causes the mind to dissociate further and allow contrary thinking to exist in individual pockets of a person's life as well as creates an alienation of the self. Healing under these circumstances requires accepting and embracing oneself, not creating a further divide.

After Toby "caught" Emma looking at the bookshelf he became convinced that she was faking her condition. That she had been plucking symptoms from a book and performing them for him. That she fit the criteria "too well"

Emma rightfully demands to know why she would complicate her receiving HRT by doing something that prevents her being able to. The pair bicker and Toby cuts off the session abruptly.

in the heat of the moment, assuming that Emma was an attention seeker who does not deserve care, Toby declares "Your grandfather was right to hit you."

Even Emma later admits later that therapy should have ended with Toby right there and then. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say. Alas, a mixture of finances and sunk cost keep Emma returning to the chair week after week.

Being trans and having DID are terrifying. In order to receive care and treatment we must insist to a world that what is happening in our hearts and minds is true in spite of all that the world outside tells us is true. We need to not only reach that conclusion within our own lives but must express that truth loud enough that the people around us see it, regard it and accept it.

As so many things in this world are, it's so hard to earn and so easily burned.

"You're faking it for attention" is such an easy sentence to fling at someone and in a therapeutic setting all things should lead to curiosity. Even if a person were faking, it's not normal and healthy behavior for someone to do that. Toby is displaying a complete lack of curiosity and compassion. He is framing himself as the victim in a potential deception from someone who is paying what little money they can put together to receive his care.

I hate Toby.

As the story continues, Emma and her system begrudgingly continue, flitting back and forth between a healthy and unhealthy dynamic with their therapist that shares a lot of similarities to abuse honeymoons. It is worth noting that as the book is a memior it will inevitably be painted with the author's personal view of past events because, as discussed in the Umineko article on recontextualized memories, a human mind cannot avoid applying present understandings to past experiences when recalling memory. This is seen in the book when we see things that Emma cannot possibly have witnessed, such as Toby's facial expression after she leaves the office.

This is not to throw shade at how Emma depicts her former therapist, as he was quite horrid to all 3 of them and quite obviously did more harm than good during their time together. I just wish to note that skewed perspectives are an inevitability. Even still. They do make some progress in talking about the situations. We come to learn of the system origins and how Katina was a friend to the young and lonely child they used to be and that their abusive childhood was centered around physical abuse from their grandfather. While discussing this Emma notes that she could make Katina go away forever with a single phrase. A few short words that she can never ever say and mean or Katina would go away and never come back... and I think that's where I'll stop with the synopsis. I (specifically me, Dawn) broke down in tears the first time I read the book and I have no will to put myself through that again at this exact moment and I wish for you all to have the catharsis of experiencing it for yourself.

I will say in way of positivity that the story is quick to make its conclusions in the final chapters by displaying therapy done right and the fact that even if parts can no longer be heard or even felt, they will always endure in moments where they can add a little color to the world.

They got to write this book together, after all.

For all the sadness this memoir elicits it speaks an honest and hard truth of the desperation, isolation and confusion that can be found in managing sentiments of identity and gender in a time when there was so little understanding and acceptance, particularly for transgender people.

We are lucky these days to have the internet as it is where we can create community and find our people and in finding our people have a better understanding of who we are and how we can live our truths. Visibility of transgender and plural populations has been increasing in part due to the fact we are able to feel unalone and forge community.

2004 did not have those luxuries and I am saddened that Emma Grove had to live through that stigma and lost so much time to unethical and prejudice care from a clinician.

I do hope that in the future we can continue accepting and encouraging one another and living lives where we are not forced to hide, mask or pretend.

-

For other Media, Myself and I articles, please check out the following:

[spectres-n-soap]

The Things I've Said PT 3 - Ghost x Soap x Reader

Content Warnings - afab!fem!reader, pregnancy, grief, c-section mentioned, worries of motherhood

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Simon picks you up from the building and for once, you speak first, “I called Mrs. MacTavish. We’re gonna have tea later this week.” You say as you pick at a loose thread hanging from your shirt.

“That’s good.” Simon responds before he adds, “I’m proud that you’re taking that step.” For some reason, the word proud makes whatever had built up in your chest disappear and relief replacing it. You smile to yourself as you wade into that feeling. You stare out the window and you realize you’re looking out the window not to avoid a conversation but because you want to. You want to see the world passing by. 

The flat is clean when you enter, something you know Simon has been doing while you’re away. You’re grateful for it, one less thing on your mind as the due date draws closer. You look at the calendar app on your phone and feel your stomach clench at how close the date is. It feels like yesterday you were taking those tests and now you’re only a handful of weeks away from meeting this baby. From meeting Johnny’s baby, you cup a hand over your mouth as a wave of nausea washes over you. You glance at this week's coming events and remember some of the items the internet recommends for you during the last six weeks of pregnancy. Practicing your breathing, relaxing your body and going on walks but not too much. Follow the 50/50 rule and get a bounce ball. You were sure there were other things you were forgetting as you sat down on your couch.

You also try to remember that your due date wasn’t guaranteed although if you were going to have a c-section you would have a set date. Since it was a surgery after all. You glance over at Simon who tilts his head at you and you fight the urge to ask him to sit next to you. You dart your eyes away and get back up off the couch, “I’m gonna go lay down.” You mutter and stiffly waddle back to your room. Despite letting him sleep next to your bed at night you couldn’t bring yourself to hold a conversation with Simon.

The week passes by slowly, mostly because Simon insists on doing anything that requires even a small bit of effort. “I can wash the dishes!” You protest as you try to push yourself in between the man and the dirty dishes.

Simon shakes his head and rolls his eyes, something that makes you want to slap him, “I know you can, I’d just rather do them myself.” Simon says and you make a noise in the back of your throat.

“I’m pregnant Simon, not fucking helpless.” You snap, “Let me do the stupid fucking dishes.” You point your finger at him, “You already do everything else.” You grumble. Simon stares at you and you narrow your eyes at him, trying to make sure he knew this was something you were not about to back down from.

Finally, the day had arrived. After setting a time and place for you to meet up with Mrs. MacTavish, the day was here. You bounce your foot up and down, which you couldn’t stop despite literally pressing down on it with your hands, as you wait to see her. You know the drive from Scotland could take a while but you keep checking and rechecking to make sure you have the time right.

Finally, you see her. Graying brown hair and soft blue eyes, a contrast to her husbands and children’s bright blue ones. Everything about her screamed motherhood. Tired eyes but laugh lines more prominent than any other wrinkle on her and you wonder if that's what you will look like one day. Covered in proof of a life filled with happiness despite the terrible things that happen. You know that day must have been the worst day of her life and you swallow whatever nausea had tried to rise up.

A waitress comes by and takes your orders, a fruity drink for yourself and a coffee for her. The silence hangs in the air for a little while longer before you speak first, “I’m sorry for breaking down and snapping at everyone during the baby shower.” You say with burning cheeks and stinging eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that and I’m sorry.” You startle in your seat when she reaches across the table and takes your hands in her own.

“I forgive ye, I’ve been worried fer ye. I ken this cannae be easy.” She says and squeezes your hand. You try to muster a smile but can’t seem to hold it for long. “Ye’ve been goin’ to therapy? I suggested it tae  Simon-”

“Yeah I have. It’s been helping.” You say, not wanting to hear about him right now. The waitress comes back by with the drinks and you thank her. You take a sip from the fruity drink, enjoying the sudden bursts of fruit on your tongue. “I’m worried.” You admit.

“Worried about what?” She asks after swallowing her mouth full of coffee.

“Being a mum. What if I’m not a good mum?”

She chuckles as she sets down her cup, “Every mum and every da has the same worries. I know I sure did when I was pregnant, each time I was terrified even if it was a bit silly after I had given birth tae several children before.” She smiles at you. “Let me give ye some advice.” She scoots closer like she’s about to tell a secret. “Ye learn as ye go. Ye can never be prepared for parenthood, that’s something I had tae accept when I had mah second child.”

“Really?”

“Aye. Parenting is a learning experience, all you can do is give it your best and know that you’ve given your best.” She says and squeezes one of your hands, “But I have faith in ye. Yer gonnae be a good mam because yer already worryin’ about bein’ one already.”

Mrs. MacTavish kisses you on the cheek before she leaves and says, “Thank yer fer bein’ there fer mah Johnny and yer gonnae be a good mam.” You smile and say thank you. You come home to Simon making dinner and your eyes fill with tears at the sight as your heart hurts for who isn’t.

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[icedsodapop]

Baskar Kalithash, a 32-year-old married Indian national, embarked on a journey to Singapore with dreams of providing a better life for his family. Like many migrant workers, he faced the challenges of living away from home, working tirelessly to support his loved ones. However, his life took a devastating turn on the night of May 26th, 2024.

Baskar had fallen from his room on the 4th floor, suffering severe injuries. Paramedics from the Singapore Civil Defence Force (SCDF) arrived promptly, and he was rushed to the National University Hospital (NUH) at 1:17 am. The extent of his injuries was grave; Baskar had sustained multiple fractures, including a spinal injury, and his life was hanging by a thread.

Emergency neck surgery was performed immediately on May 26th to address his life-threatening injuries. For more than 18 days, Baskar remained in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU), fighting for his life. The medical team worked tirelessly to stabilize his condition, and on June 11th, he underwent a second surgery, a tracheostomy, to assist him in breathing.

Despite these efforts, Baskar’s journey to recovery is far from over. He was shifted to the high dependency ward, unable to talk or walk. The doctors have determined that his spinal injury requires at least six weeks of intensive rehabilitation. The road ahead is fraught with challenges, but Baskar remains resilient, holding onto hope for a better tomorrow.

The cost of his extensive medical treatment has been staggering. As of July 11th, 2024, the hospital bills have soared to SGD 180,000. For a migrant worker like Baskar, this amount is insurmountable. He and his family are facing an overwhelming financial burden, unable to bear the weight of these expenses. His insurance coverage only covers SGD 60,000 and that's not enough to help Baskar.

Today, Baskar needs our help. He has given so much in pursuit of a better life, and now he needs us to stand by him in his time of need. We are reaching out to you, compassionate hearts, to extend your support to Baskar and his family. Your generous contributions can make a significant difference in covering his medical bills and supporting his rehabilitation journey.

[zooophagous]

I'm curious if you'd be willing to elaborate about what kind of behaviours/ attitude in labs and lab mixes your not a fan of, I've only really interacted with labs and lab mixes second hand so I'm honestly not all that familiar with their quirks (and while my family used to sometimes get gun dog super mutts we actually haven't had one since I was born so I'm not particularly familiar with their quirks I'm more familiar with herding breed and sight hound quirks)

I will preface this by saying different bloodlines of lab are better than others. A labrador bred for service dog work will be a different beast than a field bred hunting labrador. A well bred stable labrador is a joy.

Most labs I've met, and that exist around here, are not stable lol. They're largely field bred and expected to work, and as long as they can return a duck to hand and not savage livestock or other dogs, they're considered good enough to keep breeding.

These high energy dogs are then often kenneled when not working and go sort of insane. They're a friendly breed with no stranger danger but that backfires because they become TOO happy to see you.

So what that means is you can walk into any given home that has one and be immediately assaulted by 80 to 100 lbs of labrador that will merrily pummel the shit out of you with its big stupid paws because it loves you so much that it simply has to beat you to death and lick the inside of your mouth.

It never learned anything useful beyond get the duck so its owners attempts to get it off of you are fruitless because they can't control it verbally or physically (dog is stronger than them) and to top it off labs usually smell bad so even if you aren't phsyically bruised from them you're covered in footprints and bad dog smell.

They bark and they're loud about it. They're incapable of knowing their own strengths, and many of them have PICA and will consume inappropriate items like socks, wood chips or rocks and break their teeth or worse require surgery.

The people raising them seem to have very little interest in making a nice normal dog with a good off switch and instead have created a dog that's friendly and good at fetch but is the most obnoxious brain dead idiot on the planet who doesn't even know he's being an asshole when he runs over you.

I've just been annoyed to death by too many untrained labradors that the entire breed has been poisoned to me. I've met exactly one labrador I thought was a nice calm normal family dog. So far I haven't found her equal. I'd almost prefer a dog that doesn't want to be touched to a dog like that.