#ive never had an operation and id like too avoid it if i can but frankly I don't want to deal with this pain much longer fml

[misspelled-url]

wisdom tooth pain ranting in the tags don't mind me

[starflyfarm]

(hmgh the inbox is empty n im kinda bored so have sum incoherent thoughts n ideas abt lou under the cut)

(i think ive mentioned a few times tht lou likes singing but that is admittedly an understatement. he loves singing. he hears a song he knos the lyrics to and he feels incredibly compelled to sing tho his lack of confidence stops him in public spaces. u may hear a bit of humming when no ones paying attention to him tho)

(going off that there are certain kindsa songs he likes singing more than others, think its been mentioned that he likes higher energy music generally speaking so naturally thats the kinda music he likes to sing to but he REALLY likes songs he can just belt to it feels so satisfying to him. he is surprisingly good at adele songs)

(he cannot sing really rough throaty songs to save his life tho like just thinkin abt it makes his throat hurt. he likes a fair bit of metal and screamo n stuff but his voice is just too smooth to sing it. smooth but lightly textured. like vanilla icecream w the lil vanilla beans n stuff still in it. hes also not very good at whistling)

(hes mostly a tenor but he does have a pretty decent range and his falsetto is p decent tho it does hurt his throat)

(its also been mentioned that hes alright at guitar but i like 2 thnk inbetween whatever actual lessons he took the very first songs he taught himself were probably sum very embarrassing sappy little love songs w simple chords. u kno how it is when ur a repressed gay teenager)

(idk how any of yall read his voice but generally he talks kinda quietly, very much not a very loud or present person, which is good for not getting caught committing crimes but not very good for socializing as he has discovered.)

(his semi soft voice is decently reflective of his physical characteristics too, i think i mentioned like once that his hair is very thick and soft, but his skin is also p soft with the exception of some scars here and there)

(speaking of his more notable scars are a burn scar on his right forearm from when he was really young, no one remembers exactly how he got it but it had something to do with a kitchen accident, and sum cut scars on his left shoulder from shortly after he’d moved out of his mom’s house. he also has various minor scars on his hands and wrists from handling/playing with cats and getting into the occasional knife fight back in the city as well as a very small scar on his upper lip from a time a dog bit his face when he was young)

(u might not guess it but he is incredibly clumsy and does not have the best spatial awareness when it comes to like. objects. he does fine not crashing into people but hes probably bumped into a lamp post at least once)

(idk if its ever come across but he also does lots of hand gestures when hes talking. snapping his fingers or shaking his hands when hes tryna think trying to illustrate what hes talking about with vague motions. he does a lot of shit w his hands in general, tapping fingers on surfaces drumming his hands on his legs, doin peace signs n finger guns and playing with his fingers/clothes mindlessly)

(hes also the kinda person who has an idle animation™ when hes not distracted by talking to someone or just paying attention to something he’ll probably rock back n forth on his feet or bobbing up and down probably to the rhythm of a song stuck in his head or something, speaking of songs, again, humming is a thing he does too)

(if u read the previous 2 points and thought “that sounds like stimming” ur exactly right)

(he stumbles over his words a bunch when hes excited, even if hes trying to keep his cool stumbling and stuttering are some of the most tell tale signs of him being excited tho it also happens when hes anxious or flustered. id say it applies to strong emotions in general but it absolutely does not apply to stuff like when hes real angry or sad)

(when hes real angry or sad his speech tends to actually be much more concise, he’ll speak slower and take time to really consider his words. when he’s angry both his expression and the words he chooses have the potential to cut like a hot knife thru soft butter, and when he’s sad hes more considering his words to try and keep from bringing the person hes talking to down)

(ive drawn him with a sketchbook a couple times but he probably has a journal with some writing in it too, nothing serious just thoughts he has sometimes phrased with flowery words but its not like. super amazing poetry or anything. hes no elliott)

(speaking of sketchbooks he absolutely draws his friends from time to time. hes incredibly embarrassed by it and hed never show anyone but he does it. a lot of his doodles are accompanied by lil thoughts and comments he has while makin em)

(back when he worked for joja i like to think he was like a phone operator for like. the joja help line or smth which is an oxymoron and he probably spent most of his work day getting yelled at by ppl over the phone. he does not like talking on the phone. much prefers texting)

(idk how clear ive made it on the blog but he absolutely hates morris. morris is probably the only person in town who hes like physically threatened. morris has thusly elected to avoid fucking with him as much as physically possible)

(i think its been mentioned he carries some kinda pocket knife on him at all times but he also likes to carry one a those novelty combs that looks n acts like a switchblade but its not. mostly just to fuck w ppl. pull out what looks like a switchblade then open it and hah uve been fooled it was a comb all along)

(speaking of combs bcus his hair is thick and wavy as mentioned before hes gotta take real good care of it or it gets. Unmanageable. when he was a teenager he didnt take care of it for a while n it got so long and tangled it broke like 2 combs it was awful)

(that in mind he is prone to getting wicked bed head. catch him when he first wakes up and its like a rat king was planted on his head)

(also did i mention he has several knives? pocket knives switchblades hes probably got a decorative dagger in a box somewhere, and ofc his monster fighting sword. he probably has a pair of brass knuckles somewhere too)

(its defintiely been hinted at more than a few times but lou is a huge foodie. he is always hungry and loves food but he cant stand mint or bitter tastes sometimes he has a hard time w sour stuff too. he likes spicy and savory/umami/w/e foods best, and while he does have a decent sweet tooth he can make himself sick off sugary stuff pretty easy especially w really dense sweets like fudgy brownies n shit)

(the reason hes not so good w mint and bitter things is cus his senses r very keen and bitter and mint are very unpleasant to his mouth and nose. theyre intense and stick around much longer than theyre welcome and it just feels bad ykno. this in mind he could not explain to u why he likes spicy stuff as much as he does)

(hes also really sensitive to like actual temperatures, especially heat. if it gets too hot and humid it can make him real nauseous n give him a migraine, hes better in the cold but even then it makes him really sneezy n sniffly. this is moderately ironic considering the previous point)

(jhjh im gonan stop here bcus this is getting super long but this is absolutely not all the stuff ive thought of. its mostly just the more lighthearted n mundane stuff that i could remember off the top of my head lmao)

[thewhumpstuff]

You and I, Me and You [33]

[CW: References to human trafficking/trading. Focused on recovery and healing.]

[Teaser and Master List] [Archives of our Own] (Lost and Found: Chapter 8)

Trust.

[<-- Previous] ~ [Next -->]

Cricket chirps. Soft footsteps and the whir of the wheels. The sloshing of the liquid in the bottle that sat in the cupholder of the wheelchair and the jostle of the fabric. A Q.B. uniform, a splayed black coat hugging a figure on a wheelchair and a black tracksuit moved in choreographed harmony. Like shadows that dissolved in the still darkness of night. Slinking between the buildings, on the empty, balmy roads that were laid out like grids. Zizi rode the remotely operated chair with tranquillized silence. She looked as restless as Jared felt. Their encounter had unearthed something that reared its ugly head from the past. A hungry monster, that sapped their peace and energy alike. It made everything feel uncomfortably personal and Jared was left feeling vulnerable. Akira’s prodding earlier that day did not help. And he found himself wishing now that Novara had been anywhere else but with her. Tariq’s relatively neutral presence was welcome, they did not ask each other for elucidations. The men had let the moment stir them into a wordless acceptance. Soon they were ascending the elevator of the living quarters for the trainee BioHackers.

There was a soft rap on the door. Akira locked eyes with Nova, before she slid off the bed to answer. She immediately had to flatten herself against the wall to give way as the men pooled in after the wheelchair. She had only dealt with patients, who were amputees. From the way Zizi rolled into her life, it already felt like she was going to be more than that. Akira quickly realised she could only be helpful by staying out of the way.  A part of Nova was relieved that Zizi was unconscious as her limp body was lifted to the bed. Nova busied herself with the MedScan feature of her CommCube. “I’m going to need some things from the hospital wing…” “I’ll get them.” Akira was eager. She wanted to be useful and she had enough experience in the field to manage such a simple task. Nova quickly listed what she needed. “I’ll go with Shira…” Jared offered, speaking of her, but not to her. He sought a reason to not be in the room because he did not want to make matters worse for Zizi when the tranquilizer wore off… And for himself. The woman was likely to have enough on her plate with just Nova. “I don’t need your help.” Akira responded sharply. Jared’s brief disappearance after he abruptly left their conversation on the pretext of getting food left her prickly. The time he took in getting back was warranted, given the circumstance, but she still could not reconcile with the fact that he did not find a single moment to let her know or give her a heads-up. Instead, he chose to just go AWOL. Jared did not see the reason for her hostility and bit back the urge to respond in kind.   “I need to get stuff checked any way... Mind if I come along, Kira?” Tariq muttered. It felt like the easiest way to keep things on an even keel. Novara looked stressed as is. He did not really give her a chance to protest and led the way out. Akira strode out, wearing her stormy demeanour and offering Jared a side-eye he did not think he deserved. === Tariq lightened Akira’s mood as they shared some joy over Ezekiel’s fate. He took pleasure in describing exactly how things transpired. They marvelled over how well Nova handled it. “If the serum doesn’t work as intended for whatever reason, I’ll tell whoever asks that I tried some shit, ‘kay?” Akira’s question was anything but. It was a declaration. She sifted through the cabinets and drawers for all the things that Nova needed for Zizi. Patches, IVs, NG-Tube, electrolyte solutions… Akira picked up a straitjacket for good measure. Tariq would have protested if he had seen her do so.  He instead, was surreptitiously pocketing a vial of the advanced shealing serum. His injured hand had not come out of his pocket at all and he did not let Akira know of it. “You were nowhere close to the scene. I was…” Their whipping scars were still raw, and they were arguing about who got to take the blame for this situation. Everything Akira collected was shoved into a sling bag. “We’ll see how it all pans out. T… I can carry all this on my own. Get some rest, will you?” Tariq looked haggard. After everything with Ezekiel and being the one who found Zizi, she could see why. These were not the kind of battles he fought. Akira implored him to take some time for himself. And this was without her knowing about his injuries. “I-” She was quick to interrupt him. “Y’know you’re going to wear yourself out and eventually make a mess of everything…” They knew she was only half-joking; it was a quality the two of them shared, among others. He really was out of his depth. His presence would not hinder, but it would not aid either. With some reluctance he agreed and promised to check back on all of them later. “Don’t worry about it.” Akira sought some solace in being the one reassuring her friends today. I can do this; I can be there for them too.   === The three pairs of eyes were trained onto Zizi after she had been adequately replenished with fluids. They watched as her limbs slowly came to life. Slowly and barely as the tranquilizer finally wore off.  Jared considered bolting out of the room. Instead, he waited by the door, away from Zizi’s immediate field of view. Akira on the other hand stood beside where the woman lay, crowding her a little. Nova sat on the other side of the bed. “Hi Zizi… I’m Akira… How’re you feeling?” Jared and Nova let her take the lead. Another new person. The voice sounded friendly enough, Zizi did not open her eyes yet. She felt a mattress under her. Her head was cradled by a pillow. Such simple luxuries… She found herself relishing them with an embarrassing amount of contentment. “Sorry about the slight mess… by the way.” Akira added and averted her gaze briefly, afraid that if it lingered too long on Zizi, she might betray sympathy in a manner that came off as pity. She unnecessarily fussed over folding a towel that was drying on her chair. There was nothing else there. Just the sheets on the bed were sprawled, and the cabinets of the kitchen were still slightly ajar. Zizi wasn’t going to notice those things anyway. She was still addled by whatever she had been injected with. Her movements were slow, but she turned to scan the room with narrowed eyes. Her eyes widened instantly when they fell upon Nova, whose eyes were still bloodshot and swollen from the tears she had shed.  Zizi drew a ragged breath and the flash of fear in her expressions dissolved into a resignation. I know Nova meant well and I know Ezekiel didn’t.   “Can I talk to you?” Zizi’s voice was barely a whisper. Akira missed Zizi’s request. “Should I brew us some tea? I’ve got some… generic green, jasmine… mint… chamo-” Jared did not. He tried too hard to tune it out that it only resulted in him being more attuned to it. At least she isn’t rapping anymore.   So he interrupted her. “I think Zizi wanted a moment with Nova.” Akira was already filling the kettle. She set it down and put her hands on her hip lazily. “They’re both here, right? I’m ju-” “Alone.” She narrowed and squared off with Jared. “And you think that’s a good id-” He cut her off again. His tone was slightly impatient. “They’ve spent time together already…” Jared did not expect to get into the thick of things with Akira right now. He could not see that she was trying to normalise things in her own way. That they were simply not in agreement about how things should proceed. Aki drew a deep breath. If you cut me off one more goddamn time… She did not think it through when she decided to drag Zizi into this. “I think she can tell us that herself…” “Shi- Akira!” Jared exclaimed, completely flabbergasted with Akira’s behaviour. She certainly was not being prudent, but he too was not thinking clearly. Akira raised her eyebrows in an unspoken and pettish question.   What? Zizi purposely kept her gaze off the source of Jared’s voice. It was less familiar to her than his face; less likely to trigger her slip into rap mode again. A part of her feared it may lead to tranquilization again. As easy as it was to slip into nothingness, she wanted to enjoy her autonomy for what it was worth. She could hear the famous Red Knight trying so hard to act professionally while Akira approached the matter more on instinct. The intimacy between them was hard to miss and the friction was palpable.  Neither of them was wrong. The exchange was like a tennis match, till she was dragged into it. And Zizi intervened like an umpire would. She was not too reluctant to ask for what she wanted. The world would have crushed her a long time ago if she had chosen silence. “I would like to talk to Nova - alone…” She did not hesitate to make her preference known. Choices had been a rarer luxury in captivity. Now that she was out, she lapped at every chance she got to exert her will. Her voice was clear, but soft, it demanded attention in a way that a louder voice never could. They were forced to fall silent to give her a chance to speak. And Akira did have the grace to do that, even though she was fuming. She deliberately avoided looking at any of them. There was a flash of an inexplicable venom and deep mortification in her eyes, best directed towards the panel of the induction stove. “If that’s okay with you…” Zizi addressed Nova this time. Akira did not know those words were not directed at her at all and managed a weak nod as she set her tea box aside. Novara recognized the question was for her and apprehensively nodded too, much more eagerly, but did not say anything given Akira’s assumption. Her friend was feeling prickly and Nova did not want to make matters worse. Technically, this was Akira’s room and they were all taking a lot of liberties intruding this way. Nova believed in Akira’s inherent generosity. Akira was now resolutely quiet and chewed on the inside of her mouth. For once she understood why Jared chose silence sometimes. It was he who filled it, to reassure the victim in the room. “I think it is brave that Zizi would like to spend some time with Novara after everything…” And accidentally diminishing the other victim in the room by adding words addressed to her. “You should know how difficult that is… and how much courage it probably takes...” Jared had not expected this to be as much of a struggle.   Akira’s head hung for a moment. Her body lost something, like bones, because her petite frame slouched. In a motion akin to slithering, she dragged herself out of her own room, muttering. “Right… Well, excuse me, then.” Jared followed and closed the door behind him, leaving Novara and Zizi alone. He wanted to be within earshot and reach. Akira’s concern was a consequence worth considering. He did not tell her that though, perhaps he should have. He lingered in the corridor. Akira did not. It was her turn to take a solitary walk. And he let her go. - Nova looked a little apologetic, not for her friends’ behaviour per se, she knew that they too had been through a lot, but given that Zizi didn’t have any context, it was probably uncomfortable for her to witness. “Don’t worry… There is… That’s just Jared and Akira.” The medic’s voice was soft. And she casually broke the illusion Jared had tried to create. Nova did not see the reason to build walls around the woman. They had been through so much together. Zizi was not uncomfortable in the least. She was left amused. “Don’t worry… I’ve seen much worse.” Nova shuffled in place. Her knees sinking in and out of the mattress.  “I- I’m so sorry… Z, I-”  A choked back sob, a stifled sniffle and a shaky breath. “-I never meant for any of this… For...” “I know." Zizi replied simply. Nova gulped and looked at her with wide sorrowful eyes. She did? She blinked away the tears. “I could kinda see you hated it… I saw past his shit eventually and… I’m sorry too.” Zizi did sound apologetic herself. She wanted this time with Nova, just to let the poor BioHacker know, that Ezekiel did not win. That he did not succeed in villainizing Nova. Nova wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head slowly. “You… you shouldn’t have to be.” “I did try and kill you.” Zizi thought she could handle this heart-to-heart with ease. She could not. She resisted the urge to break into a rap again and gently massaged the stub of her arm as it began tingling. It had been a tough few month, among the worse of Zizi’s life at least in terms of raw, physical suffering. To be torn up repeatedly, one way or another and painfully be put back together. But she had lost everything before and she held on. She could do it again. She would. Nova’s reassurance was bland and honest, and she noticed Zizi’s discomfort.  “I’d want to kill me too, in that… situation. Are you ok? Can I get you something?” “No… I’ll be fine… He called you Supernova...That was never a compliment, was it?” That derogatory name. A darkness found its way into Nova’s being and she shook her head with an added vehemence. But it was not his voice; it did not grate against her being. “No… No, it was not. But it is nothing compared to what you, to what you and Ge-” She could not find the nerve to say his name. The name that no one would use again, not for him. There was no one left to call. Zizi had come to terms with losing the man she temporarily shared that hidden room with. Death was not uncommon in the Pit. Nova had not. She could not bury what happened, like Ezekiel presumably buried Genzo. Did he even bury Genzo? The thought chilled her. Ezekiel had thrown Genzo to the wolves before he was ready, before Nova’s serum had made him whole. Zizi was made to watch the fight where he was taken down. He was not brought back to the hidden room that night. Nova did not know about Bloody Blitz – The Pit of Doom…  So, when she inquired about Genzo, Ezekiel simply stated that he was gone, and that she was responsible for it, for not fixing him well enough. And that day Zizi lost the little freedom she had. As did Nova who was pinned like a butterfly, under the weight of the life she could not save. And the life she now had to – Mine! Zizi thought, before Ezekiel’s voice rang in her head. “No more going to the Bloody Blitz till Nova has perfected the serum…”  From that day onwards, the pain she received had been methodical and at Eze’s hands. It was solely for the purpose of testing the serum. She was reduced to nothing but a lab rat. At least she always came through. I do owe my life to her. Nova finally understood what Akira meant when she compared degrees of suffering. Pain was pain. But Zizi had had it so much worse. Nova sidled closer to her, tentatively. Zizi did not mind, she was quite accustomed to Nova’s presence in her private space. It was refreshing to see her softer side, one that was not governed by the strings Eze pulled. Strings he did not want Zizi to see, but she had. “You did the best you could for Genzo…” These were not empty words. Their fingers found each other. The skin on the back of their hands sat in such stark contrast, their palms less so. Nova knew Zizi’s anatomy too well, to not know anything about her as a person. It felt unfair and wrong. Her soft mutter carried a whine attesting to that. “He, he never quite told me where he… where he found you both…” “What did he tell you?” The counter question sounded a little sharp. Nova clammed up a little, her words were a jumble, just like his answers had been, if he ever indulged her questions to begin with. She had to stop asking when it irritated him enough to make matters worse for Zizi. “From, prisoners of war, to criminals, to street rats… drug addicts…” He deliberately gave enough answers, for Nova to never know which one was true or if all of them were. He played with her, till it was amusing. Till he could revel in the friction between the women.   She wanted Zizi to have the whole truth as much of it as she could offer. There was an insistence in the way she spoke. “He made me believe you were dangerous, like you were… you were both on death row. That is why we didn’t mourn G-” She shortened the name to a letter, so it didn’t keep getting caught in her throat. “-because Eze said, he didn’t deserve it. But he did! He deserved it!” Nova forgotten to breathe between the slurry of her words, now she gasped in short, exhausted sounds. “Everyone does. And I did not believe him, but…” She looked at Zizi pointedly now. Unflinchingly, fearlessly. She wanted her to know, no matter how dark her past truly was… Nova didn’t think that it was okay for her to suffer the way she had. “Even if any of what he said was… is true… Nothing made- nothing makes what I did okay… What he made me do… what he made me do.” She switched between talking about it like it was something in the past, because her hope reminded her that it was. But her grief anchored the pain, Zizi’s and hers to the present. She licked her lips. She finally stopped; the woman had not expected to spiral into this conversation.   Nova had poured all this out, for the second time today. It felt easier to divulge this time around, because she had gathered her thoughts while talking to Akira.   Zizi let her, in silence, clutching onto the medic’s hand gently. It truly was inspiring to finally meet the real Novara. I am surprised the world has not chewed you up and spit you out, Novara. You must be doing something very right. Empathetic, empowered and brilliant. “All the things he said were somewhat true… I guess. Genzo and I were drawn against each other in the pit… and we fight to knock-out or kill… So…” Zizi licked her dry lips. Nova immediately reached for the bottle of water, she helped Zizi sit up enough to sip from it. She gathered the will to go on. “He found us on the brink of death… and promised to save us, but only if he could keep us for himself.” Nova’s skin crawled. But she should have figured. Especially recently after everything else Ezekiel had done, so blatantly, with such little regard for the pain he caused. “How- from?” Zizi closed her eyes again, the lyrics of her rap rose in her throat. Nova was familiar with Ritonix’s entire discography – Zizi had screamed her way through the songs on every encounter with Nova, the needle and the syringe full of the serum. Zizi did not want to trigger the medic. She wanted her to know that she felt safe now. Zizi also did not want to answer the question. She pursed her lips. She thought of Jeremy. He only wanted to save her… To save them. He had been kind; she did not want to implicate him in this either. He would most likely end up taking the fall for it all. He would be the likely scapegoat, because Bloody Blitz was an intricate system. It ran too deep and what could a handful of agents possibly do to fight it. Zizi did not want the people who were trying to help her, to get entangled with that monster. Upon noticing the doubt and fear flit across Zizi’s face, Novara felt rankled. This was betrayed in the way she swayed a little. “It’s ok… It’s ok.” Nova murmured, to Zizi and to herself. Genzo and Zizi had been brought to her with severe injuries. The first time she helped them, it was out of desperation. They had just been her patients and Ezekiel had convinced her that using the serum would be mercy. And then it became a habit. Nova had questions then and she had questions now, but she did not get a chance to ask them. Zizi had already shared enough and she had a question of her own, one she could not ask Tariq… or worse, Jared. She could not allow herself to feel this vulnerable around them. But Nova had already seen her at her worse. She massaged her right arm with more vigour now as she arrived at an unnerving realisation. “…Nova, what exactly happens to me now?” All this time, Zizi had leashed the fear that leapt from the uncertainty of the situation. And now the leash broke. “I- You… It will never-” She closed her eyes and cleared her throat. Nova could not afford any hesitation marring what she wanted to say. Despite the ambiguity of the future, she would not let Zizi suffer again. Her eyes opened with her usual fierce resolve. “You will never be traded again or belong to anyone again like that. That’s for sure.” There it was again, that conviction, that felt so true that reality crumbled against it. Her radiant hope did not convince Zizi entirely, but the Fighter smiled weakly. Nova intended to do whatever it took, to keep her promise. She could tell that there were more sorrowful secrets buried in the woman’s past and she did not want to try disinterring them. Not right now. Zizi did not need to relive any more horrors. It would not help recover and that was of paramount importance. “And we don’t need to talk about everything right away… You need to rest, and I need to run some more tests… if that’s ok.” Zizi quickly slid lower into the bed, craving the comfort more than she was willing to admit. Her body had not felt the embrace of soft covers and a mattress for far too long. “For the last few days, I thought Ezekiel forgot me and that felt like a blessing… Dying in that cell. This- This feels like a miracle…” she closed her eyes and surrendered herself to Nova’s administrations, this time willingly and trustingly. Nova used the MediScan feature on her CommCube and recorded the vitals and other measures again. And stayed with Zizi till the woman fell asleep.

Tags: @lettuceknighted, @quirkykayleetam

[snooplionofjudah]

daily routine out of the enchiridion and effects i have noticed

so the enchiridion of pope leo is chock full primarily of orisons to be used towards magical effects, i got a copy of the crossed keys a while back and had eventually decided to develope a daily routine of prayer before any operation prayer of the day of the week gospel according to st john and the rest of the other psalms(?) listed before the week prayers 1: the very FIRST thing i noticed for myself was that after more than a month of using it my psychic abilities which i had been strengthening before through yogic practices were held the FUCK back. everything sort of...i dunno, paranormal for lack of a better word was. but i noticed psychic powers were taken down by alot, as was the ability to leave my body in spirit. it scared me so bad that i actually didnt pick up the book again for a while after it until i affirmed i was gonna do it and see whatever happens which, terrifyingly happened again. ive been off this for a while but i would notice it led to extreme thirst for anything again, to experience anything magical and especially anything divine in a way id never been like before. 2: divine protection definitely went up, for me and people around me too i think. i kept getting into bizarre situations (falling backwards on cement stairs i was doing steps on, for example) and i would just..avoid getting hurt or at the least getting hurt badly, which for me is abnormal since i am the definition of two left feet most of the time. but id get into these weird situations where something was supposed to hurt me, or i was about to get into an awful accident and i would be saved from it. thats not to say i didnt EVER get minorly hurt but alot of the time it was like things had been avoiding me. on the other hand, i feel like i had been put into these situations at the same time looking back on it now. i think back to that one quote about angels and saving you. 3: if there are nasty spirits around, this sort of seems to just piss them off, everyday i was doing it at my abuelitas home things would literally be thrown at me. one of them being a large portable fan, that always spooked me to fuck and back but the thing would again, never hit me. it would get thrown hard at me but it always landed just a little too short of actually hitting me. or strangely fucking off to the side of me. 4: people liked me ALOT better, they would keep telling me things that were almost like worship. it was like anything i did or said was perceived as being spectacular to them. ive always been ok enough to get by with people but this was something else. 5: i had dreams that were completely bizarre, infact i have chronic night terrors almost every time i go to bed but when i was doing my routine i not only remembered more of my dreams they all got WAY more pleasant, and alot more mystical for lack of a better word? i wasnt having dreams about god or angels but i was having dreams about things that WOULD happen in the most cryptic fashion possible. those are the most notable things i can remember off the top of my head, i kinda feel like the practice engenders spiritual dryness (thirst for it?) but i dont want to say im 100% sure even still

[bloojayoolie]

Apparently, Beautiful, and Best Friend: Very sweet, shy, tender hearted brindle boy in need of a soft voice and a quiet, structured home where he can feel safe, loved, and thrive. TIMON OLUNTEEP Id 67422, 4 Yrs., 38 petite lbs., Dreaming of a family of his own, at Manhattan ACc TO BE KILLED 8/27/19 From Shy to Social, Smiley Boy Timon Wants to find His Forever Home! ~ Timon is a tiny little guy with big bat ears and a gentle heart, who craves a loving & quiet home and a family to love. He was found in the streets and brought to the shelter by police, a teeny, tiny petite little man of only 38 lbs who was frightened after his experience and only wanted to feel safe and loved. But the shelter is no place for sensitive souls with tender hearts, and a bravery deficit, so TIMON didn’t find the quiet, calm, “safe space” he had hoped for. He’s so incredibly adorable with his big bat ears, his white socks and his gorgeous tiger brindle coat. Add to that his big smile, or the way he sits so straight and tall, trying to project a courage he doesn’t feel as he tries to negotiate the Brooklyn Center. The volunteers do their best to give him comfort, always taking time to talk to him in a soft voice, snuggling with him on a bench, softly petting him and telling him not to worry – it will be ok. But it won’t be ok if no one picks this beautiful sweet boy. He needs an experienced foster or adopter who can give him the quiet space he will need to find his rudder. Can you help this little man out? Message our page or email us at MustLoveDogsNYC@gmail.com for assistance fostering or adopting him now. A volunteer writes: Hakuna Matata is not Timon's moto but it could be if he gets to move in with you, as your forever best friend. Timon is a handsome lad whose face and moves light up as he distances himself from the care center. He strolls beautifully, does his business, sits on command and respects small critters and other dogs. I was surprised to see that the noises and crowding of the park did not bother him. He seemed to feel like home. Timon got lots of compliments from passerby's. He is a unique Boroughbred I said! Still everyone was trying to take a guess about his mix. Maybe you will too? Timon is shy but after a while spent with him, he will jump on a bench near his caretaker and accept caresses. There is love at first sight and love that comes with trust and time. Timon is waiting for you at the Manhattan Care Center, dreaming to be his carefree self, in your hands! Volunteer Evelyne Cumps writes: Timon (67422) is a lightweight (37lbs) brindley 4 year old neutered male, a very elegant, healthy stray that was very shy upon arrival but opened up amazingly. He truly is a favorite of all here at the care center but for some reason has not caught the attention of the public. may be because he is such a quite mouse in his kennel. He is one pretty dog who could have some BT up his family tree. He was so shy in PG but now, he plays nicely with males and females in PG. he is a great walker, goes to the park, is fine with all its activities and noises, nears other pooches politely, sits, comes when called and is likely HT. His behavioral eval is level 3 as he was scared (although NEVER) aggressive upon arrival and for days. Staff, behav staff and vols have been working daily with him and Timon has really bloomed. He is waiting for his Pumba at the Manhattan Care Center! MY MOVIE: Timon, The Magnifique! https://youtu.be/ldDHl3QiJZo TIMON, ID# 67422, 4 yrs old, 38.6 lbs, Unaltered Male Manhattan ACC, Medium Mixed Breed, Brown Brindle / White Surrender Reason: Stray, brought by police Shelter Assessment Rating: NEW HOPE ONLY Medical Behavior Rating: BEHAVIOR NOTES Means of surrender (length of time in previous home): Stray Behavior toward strangers: A woman, living with dog, said he growls at her and snaps FOSTER BEHAVIOR NOTE Timon was with the foster and a 10 year old girl at the street came close to him, Timon jumped on her and scratched her. SHELTER ASSESSMENT SUMMARIES - Date of assessment: 30-Jun-2019 Leash Walking Strength and pulling: Moderate Reactivity to humans: None Reactivity to dogs: None Leash walking comments: None Sociability Loose in room (15-20 seconds): Fearful – avoids; tense; cowers Call over: No approach – nervous, tense Sociability comments: Body tense Handling Soft handling: Fearful Exuberant handling: Fearful Handling comments: Body tense, tail down, moves away when legs are touched Arousal Jog: Follows (body low) Arousal comments: None Knock: No response Knock Comments: None Toy: No response Toy comments: None PLAYGROUP NOTES - DOG TO DOG SUMMARIES: 7/1-7/3: When introduced off leash to the female greeter dog, Timon approaches, sniffs, and continues to follow while sniffing. He solicits play at times, but is more intent on following and sniffing. 7/5-7/15: Timon engages in bouncy play with a female dog. 7/16-PRESENT: Timon is playful in a group of male and female dogs. INTAKE BEHAVIOR: Date of intake: 28-Jun-2019 Summary: scared but warmed up MEDICAL BEHAVIOR: Date of initial: 28-Jun-2019 Summary: trembling, tense, fearful, allowed handling ENERGY LEVEL: We have no history on Timon so we cannot be certain of his behavior in a home environment. At the care center, he displays a medium level of activity. IN SHELTER OBSERVATIONS: Timon was initially fearful and uncomfortable with touch when he arrived at the care center. Through daily interactions with handlers and dogs in playgroup, Timon has become increasingly social and on 7/5-7/6 began soliciting attention from handlers. He will approach with soft body and wagging tail and when handlers pet him he will lean in. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION: NEW HOPE ONLY Behavior Asilomar: TM - Treatable-Manageable Recommendations: No children (under 13) Recommendations comments: No children: Due to how uncomfortable Timon is currently with touch and novel stimuli, and that he was reported to growl and snap with the person he was staying with, we feel that an adult-only home would be most beneficial at this time. New Hope Rescue Only Potential challenges: Fearful/potential for defensive aggression. Potential challenges comments: Fearful/potential for defensive aggression: Timon was reported to growl and snap by the person he was staying with. At the care center, he has been very fearful. Please see handout on Fearful/potential for defensive aggression. MEDICAL EXAM NOTES 11-Jul-2019 Progress Exam SO Post op recheck skin -- clean, dry incision site A healing sx site P continue to monitor post op 10-Jul-2019 Spay/Neuter Summary Surgery report - canine neuter Was this dog a cryptorchid? No - normal canine scrotum and testicles Scrotal incision along median raphe Spermatic Cord Ligation with: 0 Monocryl in modified Miller's knots Sub Q closure: 0 Monocryl in single stitch Skin closure? Left open to drain Green linear tattoo near incision site to denote neuter status. Pre-op exam. Reported occasionally sneezing. S: Tense, trembling during exam O: BAR-H, MMs pink and moist EENT: No discharge OU, AU, nose. PLNs: Not significantly enlarged. H/L: NSR, NMA. Eupnic, quiet lung sounds. No coughing or sneezing during exam. Abd: Soft, no pain on palpation, no masses palpated M/S/I: Amb x4. No skin lesions noted. UG: Male intact, testicles soft and symmetrical. Neuro: Alert and appropriate, no sign neurological deficiencies A: Appropriate surgical candidate P: Neuter today Anesthesia Summary: Canine Neuter Pre Medication: Hydromorphine 4 mg, injectable, 0.18 mL IM Dexmedetomidine 0.5 mg injectable, 0.2 mL IM Induction: Propofol 10 mg, injectable, 3 mL IM Anesthesia Notes: Size 8.5 fr. ET tube placed, maintained general anesthesia throughout procedure on isoflurane and O2. Used rebreathing system with 3 L bag. 22 g IVC placed in right cephalic vessel. Intraoperative IV LRS at 5-10mL/kg/hr at: 170 mL/hr Rimadyl 50mg/mL injectable, 1.4 mL, SQ, once post-operatively, for post-operative pain relief. Other: Testicular block 0.88 mL of Lidocaine 0.88 mL of Sterile water Recovery Status Recovery was uneventful. Post-operative Medications Prescribed: Rimadyl 75 mg Tablets, Give 75 mg (1 Tablet), Orally, once a day for 2 days beginning the day after surgery. Anesthetist/Surgical Monitor (P#’s): 28-Jun-2019 DVM Intake Exam. Estimated age: 3-5y. Microchip noted on Intake? No. History : stray brought by police, Subjective: BAR, Observed Behavior - trembling and tense, allowed all handling, but very fearful. Evidence of Cruelty seen – no. Evidence of Trauma seen – no. Objective: T = , P =wnl, R =wnl, BCS 4/9, EENT: Eyes clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted. Oral Exam: unable to examine due to muzzle. PLN: No enlargements noted. H/L: NSR, NMA, Lungs clear, eupnic. ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated. U/G: male intact 2 testes palpable in scrotum. MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat. CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities. Rectal: external normal. Assessment: apparently healthy. Prognosis: good. Plan: neuter and all intake tasks. SURGERY: Okay for surgery *** TO FOSTER OR ADOPT *** HOW TO RESERVE A “TO BE KILLED” DOG ONLINE (only for those who can get to the shelter IN PERSON to complete the adoption process, and only for the dogs on the list NOT marked New Hope Rescue Only). Follow our Step by Step directions below! *PLEASE NOTE – YOU MUST USE A PC OR TABLET – PHONE RESERVES WILL NOT WORK! ** STEP 1: CLICK ON THIS RESERVE LINK: https://ift.tt/2ynocEZ Step 2: Go to the red menu button on the top right corner, click register and fill in your info. Step 3: Go to your email and verify account \ Step 4: Go back to the website, click the menu button and view available dogs Step 5: Scroll to the animal you are interested and click reserve STEP 6 ( MOST IMPORTANT STEP ): GO TO THE MENU AGAIN AND VIEW YOUR CART. THE ANIMAL SHOULD NOW BE IN YOUR CART! Step 7: Fill in your credit card info and complete transaction HOW TO FOSTER OR ADOPT IF YOU *CANNOT* GET TO THE SHELTER IN PERSON, OR IF THE DOG IS NEW HOPE RESCUE ONLY! You must live within 3 – 4 hours of NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Norther VA. Please PM our page for assistance. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a dog on the To Be Killed list, including those labelled Rescue Only. Hurry please, time is short, and the Rescues need time to process the applications.

[willel]

The first chapter of the novel following Terry Ives pre-Stranger Things is available to read!

PROLOGUE

July 1969

Hawkins National Laboratory

Hawkins, Indiana

The man drove an immaculate black car along a flat Indiana road, slowing when he came to a chain link gate with a Restricted Area sign. The guard stationed there peered in the window for the briefest moment, then checked his license plate and waved him through.

The lab clearly anticipated his arrival. Maybe they’d even followed the directions and specifications he sent ahead about preparing his new domain.

When he reached the next guard booth, he cranked down the window to present his identification to the soldier serving as security officer. The soldier studied his license and avoided looking him in the eye. People often did.

He had nothing but attention for new people, at least at first—an assessment quick as a thought, cataloguing them: sex, height, weight, ethnicity, and from there a guess at intelligence, and then, most important, a guess at potential. Almost everyone was less interesting after the last. But he never gave up. Looking, assessing, was second nature, a crucial element of his work. Most people had nothing to interest him, but those who did… They were why he was here.

This soldier was easy to size up: male, 5’8”, 180 pounds, white, average intelligence, potential…fulfilled by sitting in a guard booth checking IDs with a sidearm he probably never used at his hip.

“Welcome, Mr. Martin Brenner,” the soldier said finally, squinting between the man and the plastic card.

Funny that his ID contained some of the information Brenner would have wanted if he were looking at himself: male, 6’1”, 195 pounds, white. The rest: genius IQ, potential…limitless.

“We were told to expect you,” the soldier added.

“Dr. Brenner,” he corrected the man, but gently.

The narrowing of a gaze that still didn’t quite look at Brenner but darted into the backseat where five-year-old subject Eight slept curled against the door. Her hands were balled into fists under her small chin. He’d preferred to oversee her transport to the new facility himself.

“Yes, Dr. Brenner,” the guard said. “Who’s the girl? Your daughter?”

The skepticism came through. Eight’s skin was a rich shade of brown in contrast to his own milky pale hue, which Brenner could have told the man meant nothing. But it was none of the man’s business, and besides he wasn’t wrong. Brenner was no one’s father. Father figure, yes.

That was as far as it went.

“I’m sure they’re waiting for me inside.” Brenner studied the man again. A soldier back home from a past war, a war they’d already won. Unlike Vietnam. Unlike the quiet escalation with the Soviets. They were already engaged in a war for the future, but this man didn’t know that. Brenner kept his tone friendly. “I wouldn’t ask questions when the other subjects arrive. Confidentiality.”

The guard’s jaw tightened, but he let it go. His eyes flicked to the sprawling multi-story complex beyond them. “Yes, they’re waiting for you inside. Park anywhere you like.”

Another thing that hadn’t needed saying. He drove on.

A boring part of the federal bureaucracy had paid for the construction and general maintenance of this facility, but more secretive arms of the government had paid for its outfitting to Brenner’s specifications. To be top secret, after all, the research couldn’t be advertised. The Agency understood greatness couldn’t always follow standard operating procedure. The Russians might be able to have their labs acknowledged by their government, but they were willing to suppress all the voices who would speak out in opposition. Somewhere right now the communists’ scientists were doing the same type of experiments this five-story brown complex and its basement levels had been created for. Brenner’s employers would be reminded of this whenever they forgot or had too many questions. So his work remained a top priority.

Eight continued to sleep as he got out and walked around to her door. He slowly opened it, pressing her back so she wouldn’t tumble out into the parking lot. He’d sedated her for safety while traveling. She was too important an asset to leave to other people. Thus far the other subjects’ abilities had proven…disappointing.

“Eight.” He crouched by the seat and gave her shoulder a gentle shake.

The girl shook her head, keeping her eyes shut. “Kali,” she mumbled.

Her real name. She insisted on it. Usually he didn’t humor her, but today was special.

“Kali, wake up,” he said. “You’re home.”

She blinked, a spark lighting in her eyes. She had misunderstood.

“Your new home,” he added.

The spark dimmed.

“You’ll like it here.” He helped her sit upright and coaxed her forward. He extended his hand. “Now Papa needs you to walk in like a big girl and then you can go back to sleep.”

At last, she reached out and slid her small hand into his.

As they approached the front doors, he put the most pleasant smile in his arsenal on his lips. He expected the current acting administrator to greet him, but instead found a long line of lab-coated men and one woman waiting. The professional staff of his group, he supposed, and all of them radiating a queasy case of nerves.

A tanned man with a lined face—too much time out of doors—stepped forward and offered his hand. He looked at Eight, then back at Dr. Brenner. His rimmed glasses were smudged. “Dr. Brenner, I’m Dr. Richard Moses, acting principal investigator. We’re so excited to have you here, someone of your caliber… We wanted you to meet the entire team right away. And this must be—”

“I’m Kali,” the girl said with drowsy effort.

“A very sleepy young lady who would like to see her new room.” Dr. Brenner sidestepped the man’s hand. “I believe I asked for one set apart? And then I’d like to meet the subjects you’ve brought on board.”

Brenner spotted the doors off the lobby that looked the most secure and headed in their direction with Eight. Silence trailed him for a long moment. His smile became almost real before disappearing.

Dr. Moses of the smudged glasses scrambled and caught up with him, the others a clattering rush right behind. Moses lunged ahead to buzz an intercom and gave his name.

There was an unsettled hum of conversation among the other doctors and lab associates who followed them.

“Of course, the subjects haven’t been prepared,” Dr. Moses said as the double doors swung open. He kept glancing at Kali, who was getting more alert by the second, taking in their surroundings. No time to waste getting her settled in.

Two armed soldiers stood matchstick straight just inside the doors, an optimistic sign that at least the security wasn’t subpar. They checked Dr. Moses’ badge and he waved them away from a similar check of Dr. Brenner. “He hasn’t gotten his ID yet,” he said.

The men moved as if they might challenge Dr. Moses, and Brenner’s approval raised another notch. “I’ll have it next time I come through,” he said. “And we’ll get you copies of the subjects’ paperwork.” He nodded discreetly to indicate Eight.

The soldier inclined his head and the entire group passed.

“I specified I wanted to meet the new subjects when I arrived,” Dr. Brenner said. “So it shouldn’t come as a surprise.”

“We thought you’d just be observing,” Dr. Moses said. “Should we set some parameters? Prepare them for your visit? It might disrupt the work we’ve been doing. The psychedelics make some of them paranoid.”

Dr. Brenner held up his free hand. “No, I don’t think that or I’d have said it. Now where are we going?”

Light fixtures dangled above the long hallway, emitting the ghastly glow that so often illuminated scientific discovery in this shadow world. For the first time that morning, Dr. Brenner felt like he could make this a home.

“This way,” Dr. Moses said. He found the lone woman on the professional staff in the herd and addressed her. “Dr. Parks, can you arrange for one of the orderlies to bring the girl some food?”

Her lips tightened at being sent to do the equivalent of woman’s work, but she nodded.

To his relief, Eight stayed quiet and they soon came to a small room with a child-sized bunk bed and drawing table. He’d asked for the bed to reassure Eight he wassearching for appropriate companions for her.

She spotted it immediately. “For a friend?”

“Sooner or later, yes,” he said. “Now, someone’s going to bring you some food. Can you wait here alone?”

She nodded. Whatever perkiness she’d gained from the excitement of arriving was fading—the sedative had been a strong dose—and she sank onto the edge of the bed.

Dr. Brenner turned to leave and ran into an orderly and the one female staffer. Dr. Moses raised his eyebrows. “She’ll be okay on her own?” he asked.

“For now,” Dr. Brenner said. And to the orderly, “I know she looks like a child, but follow your security protocols. She might surprise you.”

The orderly shifted uncertainly, but kept quiet.

“Take me to the first room,” Dr. Brenner said. “Everyone else can go wait with your subjects, but there’s no need to prep any of them.”

The rest of the assembled team waited for Dr. Moses to concur and he gave a pained shrug. “As Dr. Brenner says.”

They dispersed. They were learning.

The first room housed a subject ineligible for the draft due to a club foot. He had the permanently fried look of someone whose disengagement tool of choice was marijuana. Average in every way.

“Do you want us to dose the next patient?” Dr. Moses asked. He plainly didn’t understand Dr. Brenner’s methods.

“I will tell you when I need something.”

Dr. Moses nodded and they proceeded through five more rooms. It was as he expected. Two women, neither exceptional in any way, three more men, completely unexceptional. Except perhaps in their lackluster quality.

“Gather everyone in a room so we can talk,” Dr. Brenner said.

He was left to wait in a conference room, with a last nervous glance from Dr. Moses. Soon enough, the group from before entered and arranged themselves around the table. A couple of men tried to make conversation in order to pretend none of the morning’s events were unusual. Dr. Moses shushed them.

“That’s all of us,” he said.

Dr. Brenner gave his staff a closer look. They would need work, but there was potential in their quiet attention. Fear and authority went hand in hand.

“All the test subjects I met this morning can be dismissed.” He waved a hand. “Pay them whatever they were promised and ensure they remember their nondisclosure agreements.”

The room absorbed this. One of the conversationalists from before raised his hand. “Doctor?”

“Yes?”

“My name is Chad and I’m new to this, but… why? How will we do our experiments?”

“Why is always a question that moves science forward,” Dr. Brenner said. Chad the newbie nodded, and Brenner added, “Although one should be careful about asking it of your superiors. But I will tell you why. It’s important we all understand what we’re here to do. Does anyone have a guess?”

His treatment of Chad kept them quiet. He thought for a moment the woman might speak up, but she simply folded her hands in front of her.

“Good,” he said. “I don’t like guesswork. We’re here to advance the frontiers of human capability. I don’t want the common Mus musculus of humans. They are not going to give us extraordinary results.” He swept a gaze around the room. Everyone was intent. “I’m sure you’ve heard of some of the foibles elsewhere and your own lack of results are why I’m here. There have been embarrassments, and a great many of them can be sourced to inadequate subjects. Whoever thought prisoners and the asylum-bound would tell us anything we need to know were fooling themselves. Draft dodgers and potheads aren’t any better. I have a few more young patients transferring here for a related program, but I’d like a range of ages. There is every reason to believe that a combination of chemical psychedelics, people with high potential, and the right inducements can unlock the secrets we need. Think of the intelligence advantages alone if we can persuade our enemies to talk, if we can make them suggestible and exert control… But we can’t get the results we want without the right people, period. We need those with potential.”

“But…where will we get them?” Chad again.

Brenner made a mental note to have him dismissed at the end of the day. He leaned forward.

“I will set forth a new screening protocol for identification of better candidates from our feeder universities, and then select the subjects we use going forward myself. Soon, your real work here begins.”

No one objected. Yes, they were learning.

[bestillmybeefyheart]

My surgery and why you should pay attention to my issue because it could be yours (Note this is going to be gross, TMI and NSFW)

Ive had a few people ask me about my surgery, what it was and why Ihad it. So I thought I'd give a summary without going into detail that freaks people out. However, you should be slightly freaked out as 1 in something like 5 people has Diverticulitis and doenst know it. That was me until mine flaired up.

(Adding a Keep Reading here so you have to click through to read the rest, hope this works. Id prefer that only those who want to see this see it.)

Ok. So, First off lets do a quick Diverticulitis (or Diverticulosis if its not inflamed) summary. This is a condition in which your large colon has weak spots that, under pressure, expand outward like little balloons away from your colon. These little pockets then create a place for waste matter to collect and possibly get infected. The less fiber in your diet, the more easily matter can get into these pockets.

If you have to push or strain when you use the restroom for a #2, your diet needs work. A proper healthy bowel movement should be like a banana in shape and slide right out without effort. You should also not hold your breath when you are "pushing", but instead breathe normally and just let it happen. If it takes work, your diet is not fibrous enough. You should be able to sit down and relax your muscles down there and it should just come out without any or little effort.

Now, what happens is, once these pockets form, they are there and don't go away. Ever. And you may not even know you have them. (Maybe never know.) They usually start in the sigmoid portion of the colon, aka the part where your colon bends near the end to head towards your rectum for its exit. Because they are usually in this corner, they are literally straight ahead of movement of waste material, and if its not fiber filled so its solid, it can get into them and cause infection. This is when Diverticulosis becomes Diverticulitis. You don't want this. Once you have it, it doesn't go away and you have to really watch your diet. Fiber fiber fiber people.

When this starts being a problem, for example for me, I was having attacks/inflammation regularly, they can either give you antibiotics and hope it helps, and tell you to add more fiber to your diet, or if its bad enough, they can do a sigmoid colon resection. This is where this post gets detailed and scary. Hoping that Read More thing above worked so you only read this if you clicked through.

Alright, so, a resection is a nice way of saying they cut out anywhere from 6″-several feet of the 5′ of large colon you have in you. In my case, they cut out a 1′ section. This is cut at the intersection of the sigmoid colon and the rectum, basically where your colon goes from side to side to bending to goto your rectum (middle of your body, right around your genitals behind them). This cut is made at an angle, and the cut where they remove the bad part is also cut at an angle. Then, they carefully slide your entire 5′ or so of large colon around so the two ends meet. And then they sew them back together, by passing the bad spot with a new sewn together section. This operation can be done the old way, where they open you up literally wide open so your guts are exposed, or laparoscopically, where they do a few smaller incisions and do the work with special tools to decrease the amount of cutting outside needed. In my case, they did it laproscopically, leaving me with 3 incisions. Plus the one in side just behind and above my groin, where the two good ends are put together.

As you can imagine, this is not the most fun thing, surgery wise. You now have 3 outside cuts which hurt, 1 inside cut which hurts but since its inside your body doesnt send pain signals the same way as external injuries, and your entire digestive system has to restart and relearn, as does your body. 

These pain signals are the most annoying part. If you cut your finger, you look at your finger, see the cut, feel the paincoming from your finger, and you know its your finger that hurts. When its inside, your body doesn’t send a signal that says “your pain is coming from the intersection of your sigmoid and rectum” instead it just says “theres pain in this area!” And your body then tries to figure out what this means. Since your genitals, the incision, bladder, etc are all in this area AND there’s a cut on your outside in the same spot, your body doens’t quite know what to do, so you feel one or more of the following... 1) general pain in the gut, 2) genital pain, 3) Bladder pain or the urge to pee and 4) Rectal pain or the urge to poop, but you dont know which it is, just that you feel pain and its not fun.

Add to this any sitting, walking, movement, standing, bowel movements, etc all also create pain. My first week or 2, every step I took felt like Godzilla was stomping around and my guts were going slam slam slam downwards. Ironically, walking and movement is actually good for you, it stimulates the muscles that make your colon and digestive system work, so despite the pain, you have to walk, it creates healing by means of reactivating your digestion.

So that is basically what my surgery involved and what I am going through now, minus a lot of details and side effects. Constant day to day nagging pain, walking causing pain, sitting causing pain, and 1′ of my colon being gone leaving me with 1′ less room to “hold it” if I have to go.

As a person who has suffered unknowingly from Diverticulosis (just the pockets) and Diverticulitis (the inflamed version), I urge you to keep your diet in check and to get your GI to have a look inside and check for these pockets once in a while. I went for 5 years with off and on pain and NO idea what it was until Dec of last year when it was finally diagnosed, and the timing was great as I then had 2 attacks, both put me in the ER, one also the hospital for a week. And these two within a month of each other resulted in the surgery. And that doesnt mean I’m doenand will never have this again. It just means that the bad section with the pockets is gone for now. And I have to keep an eye on my diet because the section that took its place can get the same thing too.

Sorry if this was TMI but I do feel that it is very important for everyone to be aware of. I had no clue and now that I know I want to make sure my friends and family all know so they can avoid it. And avoid surgery.

Note that the suergery can also go poorly. Some end results of a poor outcome can include a temporary cholostomy bag (poop out into an external bag) or a permanent one... damage to your urinary tract during the surgery, damage to th bundle of nerves going to your genitals, or worst case, something gets nicked and they have to cut you open and literally clean your guts out and fix the issue and put you back together. I was really scared of these, but was lucky enough not to have to wake to them.

You can also wake to nerve damage from being in a wierd position during surgery for 4-6 hours, or a pinched nerves causing numbness and pain (I had that and am still waiting it out), bed sores, andother complications.

So, take it from me, keep on top of this. I know you may feel fine but you will eventually have an attack if you have the pockets and you may end up like me needing the surgery.

Hope this wasn’t too long and gross and my read through thing works so no one has to read it if they dont want to. If not I’ll see about moving it to a page and linking to that.

Hope you found it useful and I hope at least one of you uses this as motivation to keep your colon and your diet in check so you stay healthy and happy.

ML, beefy

[bernieanderson]

Should We Do This? (A Framework)

Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.

I’ve worked for several complex and complicated organizations with a history of FOMO. Past leadership had great hearts and bold faith. They set out to do as much good in as many areas as possible. Any time we set out with a mindset of “as much for as many” you end up in a hard place. Like an interior design with multiple color palettes, there’s too much going on. The attempt to “do it all” results in difficulty doing anything. At least doing anything well.

If you’re already at in the difficult terrain of organizational complexity, you should probably get help (Call me. I know a guy…)

But if you’re starting out, there’s a way to avoid this territory.

Use a simple framework of placing decisions on a mission and values grid. (Yes, another XY chart. I love these.)

Mission: This is why you exist and defines the way you’re going to change the world around you. This guides direction.

Values: These are the stated principles by which you operate your organization (or live your life). These guide behavior.

Now we have a framework for “Should we do this new project”?

Never

Doesn’t fit our mission or values? Never. That simple. Don’t do it. Don’t waste time discussing whether we should do it. It’s not who we are. It’s not where we want to go. It’s astounding to me often boards not only discuss projects in this quadrant but agree to move forward with them. Don’t do it. Anything that doesn’t align with your mission or your stated values gets an automatic and resounding “no”.

Probably Not

It’s in keeping with our stated values, but doesn’t really move our mission forward? Probably not. There could be a rare exception in this quadrant. But I’d lean to “no” in almost every case because changing direction is a serious course of action for any organization and leads to unnecessary complexity.

Maybe

It’s the direction we want to go, but it’s not necessarily according to the stated principles by which we set out to operate. I call that a maybe - in the same way my Mom would give me a “maybe” when she didn’t want to give an immediate “no” and crush my little boy dreams. If your organization has clarified your values well, then it’s a “no”. But behavior can flex a little more than direction - especially in an organization’s early stages. It’s possible to realize a value that might have been there in the beginning. It’s still a cautious “maybe”. But this quadrant warrants further exploration and discussion.

Yes

A new project that aligns with your organization’s mission and core values is a green light.

But that green light moves the project to a different question.

We’ve just answered, “should we?” If you get to “yes”, you have to ask the next question.

Could we? This is a different set of criteria.