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lostlittle-star · 1 year

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My psoriasis story

I have been thinking for a while to write something down about this. To give it a place, because let's be honest, it fucking sucks and it's ugly.

So here is my struggle, my journey:

The journey until now has been one with a lot of doctors appointments just to figure out what was wrong.

My story started last year when I noticed some sort of rash on my legs. In the beginning it were 3 spots, a couple of days later it were 10 and the next week they appeared on my other leg too, so first appointment at my general practitioner.

First diagnosis: folliculitis (infection/inflammation hair follicles). Remedy: washing myself with disinfectant soap and treat the spots with an antibacterial ointment. It should be getting better at the end of the week.

Wrong. So second appointment.

Second diagnosis: scabies. Fuck! Seriously? Me?! This made me feel ashamed, dirty. I immediately went to the pharmacy and hopped into the shower. Still washing myself with the disinfectant soap, which is making my skin extremely dry, and afterwards the prescribed ointment. New pj's and fresh sheets on the bed, every day. Again, it should be getting better within the week.

Wrong.

Little note, I had a lot of doubts with this diagnosis, I have also a medical background from my time in college (not anymore though). But who am I to go up against the doctor?

The general practitioner is still convinced with the diagnosis. So second week of extreme measurements, fresh clothes and sheets every day, still showering with the disinfectant soap and treatment with the ointment. It should be visibly getting better in days. If it wouldn't, this time I could call.

Well guess what? It was still not getting better. I had now patches on my legs, arms, torso and back. And the diagnosis made it all itch even move. So on Friday I called my general practitioner for the update and miraculously got an appointment with a dermatologist the very next Monday (normally it takes at least half a year to get one).

The appointment with the dermatologist was finally there and I finally got answers. He first checked my fingers for little burrows and smiled a little immediately. Well, I got wrongly diagnosed for four weeks. Finally the right answer I had been waiting for.

The definitive diagnosis: guttate psoriasis. A rare form of psoriasis, less invasive, probably caused by a throat infection. And of course always diagnosed late. Treatment? The same as the typical psoriasis, a corticosteroid foam.

After four weeks, treatment finally started. Since it started so late, the patches on my legs will need a lot more time to heal.

A little flash forward. The most recent patches had disappeared easily after 2 weeks of treatment, it has been 4 months since since the first signs. But those on my legs had healed a lot, the discoloration was still going to be visible for months. Because it needs time, too much time for my liking. It is good it was winter when all this started. At the moment I am writing this, it is already spring and the new batch of patches on my legs are still very visible. And I am struggling with it.

I don't think the dermatologist keep the mental factor in mind. After the diagnosis it's all about the treatment, where and how to apply. For someone who has always been bullied, this is one other blow to the self-esteem.

There are days when it easy, apply lotion in the morning and put on some long trousers and I ignore it for the rest of the day. But there are so, so many days I find it hard to look at my body. And I onow shouldn't be complaining, since it's not as invasive as the typical psoriasis. But I can't help it to struggle with my self image. Will I be able to wear dresses or shorts this summer? Is it going to disappear? Will it come back if all the spots are away?

So, will this story have and end? Will it be like a thread through my life?

This auto-immune illness is one I will have to live with and honestly I get it why no one talks about it and hides it. We all shouldn't.

#my psoriasis story #tw medical stuff #psoriasis #ellen's psoriasis story #tw illness #tw auto-immune illness

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littlelambdrgnfly · 5 months

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On top of every bloody thing else, I’m pretty certain that I have rosacea. I’ve noticed my skin getting kind of bumpy from time to time for the past year or two, but it’s never been too noticeable and always clears up in a day or few at most. I’ve had flushing occasionally, but it almost never lasts more than a few hours. I’ve never had both so strongly at the same time, for more than a day, and it finally made me make the connection to rosacea. I honestly look like this emoji: 😳 It’s either that, or it’s a rash caused by my new inhaler. Possibly it’s a rosacea flare-up that was triggered by the inhaler, who the fuck knows. Guess I’ll be making an appointment with the dermatologist next. It’s definitely not the worst case I’ve ever seen and it’s not painful, it’s just uncomfortable and makes me look apple-cheeked, but apparently it can get much worse if left untreated. I already don’t like the way I look, I don’t need this on top of everything. Lord, please help me meet a queer lady who likes neurodivergent plus size women with red cheeks and a diaper fetish, thank you. 🙏

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elbertoko · 1 year

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I hate 2022 so much there’s nothing good about it...

If I made it out of 2022 without issues whatsoever, then that would probably be the only thing good about it. There are just a couple of weeks left of 2022 and let’s see if we survived unscathed. So what happened, exactly? Why do I resent this year so much that I would like it erased from the Gregorian Calendar?

Let me immortalize my experience by looking back and writing about it.

Here it goes.

The first tragedy

October 2021 when rashes suddenly started to show up all over my body. I thought it was just a mere allergic reaction to something I don’t know so I just took loads of zykast. But apparently, it’s not. It developed into dead skin that kept on shedding. It peeled off like crazy. There was skin all over me. It got worst in an air-conditioned room/place. My skin was practically so dry and dead. Because of that, I got cold easily even though the weather was so hot. I got chills even. After my skin peeled off, there would be a couple of days of peace — my skin clear, red, and seemingly normal — until my entire body was stung. It would sting so much it was so painful I had to take Advil. A couple of days later, it’s peeling off again.

My dermatologists diagnosed me with exfoliative dermatitis. It’s a reaction to medications, pre-existing skin conditions, or cancer. In other words, nobody really knew what the cause was except that my bloodwork showed I was anemic, but even that would not be definite.

The doctors worked me up. I had so much bloodwork I thought I would run out of blood. The result just helped the doctors confirm they didn’t know the exact cause and that my skin would be back to the way it was.

What a relief, nothing serious.

The second tragedy

A few months passed after spending all the expensive lotion the doctors prescribed and trying out a new set of another little less expensive but still expensive lotion, my skin finally cleared. The shedding had stopped. The pain and chills were gone, too. It was supposed to finally be a happy ending except that my eyes decided to ask for attention. Suddenly, my vision became so dull I could barely see shit.

When I first went to the ophthalmologist here at home, I was diagnosed with anterior uveitis, the inflammation of my eyes. The ophthal said my eyes were so dry — again?

She had me take Methylpred, oral steroids, and a couple of eyedrops to relieve my eyes from drying so much. When I went back to Cebu I went to another ophthalmologist from CHH Eye Institute where the ophthal confirmed the same diagnosis and gave me steroidal eyedrops.

My vision got a bit better. I can see more now compared to when I first noticed my eye problems. My vision is not entirely perfect like the way it was, but it’s better than nothing. I haven’t been back to my ophthalmologists. I’m sure I need to go back for follow-up, but perhaps after the holidays.

Here’s the good part!

People always want to lean on the good, happy side of life. Whenever I tell people I had a shitty year, they would always tell me at least you’re healthy, or you’re still here, or even resort to saying at least you're still alive!

No, there’s no at least. No despite of. I just want this year to suck because it sucks as it is. The amount of literal pain, and suffering I experienced was incomparable to what I experienced in the past. It could not even compare to the time when I got hospitalized for pneumonia with hypoxemia which occurs when the blood gets low oxygen. Less breathing = low oxygen. And I’d prefer that over the dermatitis and uveitis I had.

But yes, since people always want the good stuff, the only good thing about all of it is how tremendously supportive and helpful my entire family was.

My uncles were so keen on driving me twice a week to the ~faith healer~ aka quack dockie to make sure I didn't miss my regular air blow on my hair and prayers I couldn’t even understand.

My cousins and sister took so much care of me, all of them, even my sick cousin. They drove me around, got me to my doctors’ appointment, and made sure I was comfortable. There are no words for how much I appreciate and love them.

Of course, my aunts, especially my parental, and my mom, were always there nagging every step of the way. They were the life of everything.

Everyone gave me so much love and care that the only thing I could only think about was to get better. Get better. Get the fuck better, self.

How could I give up with that much love and care?

Here’s the good part part 2

My cousin is getting married!

His boyfriend planned an incredible surprise proposal at her house last December 3, just a few days away from her birthday! Everyone was there: the bf’s incredible family, and ours. I realized we have become a very small family now because my cousins left town for work.

It felt so surreal and incredibly romantic. This is the first time I've seen a proposal and gladly it’s my cousin’s. As a hopeless romantic, I cried. I can’t blame me, but it’s just so amazing. To be able to experience love all around is totally euphoric.

I can’t wait for the wedding!

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AND THAT’S IT FOR THIS YEAR!

I was going to write a heartfelt thanks and Christmas note on my Revue account but I just found out that EM (not me) is shutting it down. So here nalang din.

#2022 #year end review #blog

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spaspace · 2 years

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hazel51 · 2 years

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Glutathione Skin Whitening Treatment in Mumbai

What Is Glutathione & How It Can Help In Skin Whitening?

Amazing antioxidant glutathione is a powerful source of skin whitening because of its anti-melanogenic properties. Top dermatologists in India cannot stop praising the effectiveness of glutathione for lightening skin tone. Glutathione is present in every cell of our body and can be taken as a supplement as well.

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Glutathione is an antioxidant made of cysteine, glutamic acid, and amino acids glycine. According to the best dermatologists, glutathione helps the immune system of the body by making chemicals, building tissues, and repairing.

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idealsugaringhairremoval · 2 years

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Another option is to visit a salon. A licensed professional will apply a paste made of lemon, sugar, and water. While this method is safer than waxing, it can still be painful and can result in a painful rash. It is not for the faint of heart. Professionals are highly recommended to perform this procedure.

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1nickel2many · 2 years

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SNAS and I

On July 18th, 2022, I was diagnosed with Systemic Nickel Allergy Syndrome after an extensive patch test.

Sometime in January or February, a rash started forming on my right arm. I didn’t really think of anything of it. I had a previously scheduled appointment with my dermatologist to get a wart removed in the coming week, so I figured I’d just bring it up to him while I was there. Once I arrived I showed it to him and he didn’t seem all that interested in it. He stated “oh, that’s just a rash. We’ll give you some medicine and it’ll clear it right up”. Basically exactly what I had expected him to say.

And with that, I began my first round of steroid medications. Surprisingly, it didn’t work and it was spreading. Soon it showed up on my other arm and spread down my back. I called my dermatologist and he gave me some different steroids to try. Those didn’t work. The next time I called, he had me come back into the office. He looked me over again, only really looking at the area on my arms, and wanted to try some different medications as well as a fungal shampoo.

During the months of us trying all these medications, the rash was getting worse. It itched so bad. It hurt when I scratched and it hurt when I didn’t scratch. It finally got to the point where I itched myself so much and so hard that I began to bleed, scabs would form, scratching would nick them, rinse, repeat. Frankly, it was one of the worst experiences of my life. Once this began to happen, I started putting Calamine lotion on my skin as my mom suggested. I basically bathed myself in it. It wasn’t the most fun, but it gave me some sort of relief. As for the medication...

Nothing was working. The fungal shampoo didn’t work. The steroids, while they helped somewhat, still didn’t make it go away. I wasn’t able to sleep. I probably gained 30 pounds because the only time that I felt better was when I was eating. I spent my days at my desk at work just snacking all day long to help me TRY to focus, but I wasn’t able to do my job or really do much of anything. I’d try to sit there and watch TV and it was impossible to even focus on that.

Four months later and three rounds of different medication later, my dermatologist didn’t know what else to do. He stated that he didn’t know what else to do and said the next step would be to try this possibly harmful medication. It’s a medication that was used for eczema and some sort of cancers. Looking up the medication, it scared me to death. It caused liver damage, kidney damage, and caused cancer to some. I wasn’t doing that.

Finally, it was time for a second opinion. My doctor had barely looked at me, he hadn’t done any type of testing on my skin or really looked at the entire rash at all. Surely someone else would do better and I was tired of this guy. The last advice the nurse gave me before telling them I wasn’t coming back was just to go outside for a few minutes every day. Yeah...okay.

I made an appointment to one of the big medical hospitals an hour away from my home. The doctors at this hospital made me feel so much more comfortable. They had me strip and put me in a hospital gown so that they could look me over completely and they did. Already, much more than the other dermatologist had done. She told me they were going to try a higher dose of some of the steroid medications that my other doctor had put me on and were going to do a skin biopsy.

This round of medications seemed to help. The rash didn’t go away, but I was able to sleep, I was able to work and somewhat live my life. I was uncomfortable, but anything was better than the hell I was going through previously.

A week later, the doctor called me back saying the biopsy came back. Atopic dermatitis with Eosinophils. So basically...I had a rash. Great. Thanks. She was making me an appointment with one of the other doctors in the hospital that does their patch testing. But it wasn’t for another three months.

Thankfully, the medicine seemed to be working at least somewhat and the doctor told me that it was fine for me to continue taking as long as that continued. I held on. Fighting my way through the exhaustion of itching myself. For six months, I had literally thought of nothing else than getting rid of the itch. Of course nothing worked.

The rash seemed to move and continue to spread. Now it was fully on my back, around my stomach and going down my legs.

I waited patiently for the day that I started my patch testing. I took a few days off of work to go back up to the hospital. They placed several sticky pads to my back, 62 allergens to see if I react to any of them. I was supposed to have these pads on me all day Friday, Saturday, Sunday and most of Monday. This sucked. It was itchy, it was uncomfortable. I wasn’t able to use my icepacks, I wasn’t able to take a shower, I basically spent the entire four days laying in bed because it was all I could do without worrying about how it would come off. I had to sleep on my back because it would start peeling off when I slept in any other direction.

It was worth it, but it SUCKED!!!

When Monday finally came, I went up there and sure enough, I had a nickel allergy. I hadn’t even considered this. The doctor gave me a giant list and told me that I should try to avoid these foods that contained nickel (which spoiler alert is almost everything) and see if that helped clear it up. Then he sent me on my way.

There I was sitting in my car with little to no information other than I went from being someone who wasn’t allergic to anything and was free to eat whatever I wanted to...now I’m allergic to almost everything and have to read the labels of everything I buy.

There’s not really a point to this blog. I just really needed a spot to get all this information together in one spot and to help myself sort through it as much as possible. Since that day, I have been stressed beyond belief. We ended up having to donate everything in our pantry because everything contained one of my allergens. I just needed a space. Tumblr seems to be the only place I can organize so that’s what this blog is. I don’t really expect anyone to read this or follow or really anything, but I just needed a spot to figure this out and maybe get some frustration out. My husband has been nothing but supportive, but I’m about to pull my hair out. I need a space. So, this is my space.

If you have a nickel allergy, maybe you’ll find something helpful here? Feel free to message me. Maybe we can fumble through this together.

#about me #systemic nickel allergy syndrome #nickel allergy #food allergy

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awheckery · 3 years

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so. uh.

cut for frank discussion of chronic illness and the serious failures of the american healthcare system. tw for fatphobia and gaslighting.

Last July, I got sick. It wasn’t too bad at first: some fatigue, body aches and a slightly elevated temp, until suddenly it was bad and I wound up in the ER. It took three rounds of steroids, a round of antibiotics and a more powerful inhaler to get my feet back under me, but I never fully recovered.

I didn’t talk about it here, except for answering an ask in October and blaming my lack of creative output on depression. It really, really wasn’t depression; it was my health progressively collapsing, one system after another until the avalanche of symptoms that flattened me just after New Year’s.

For the last four months, I’ve spiked a fever over 100°F nearly every single day. My joints hurt. My knuckles are knobbly and swollen, and occasionally my fingers are so painful and weak I’ve had to literally tape my pen to my hand at work. I get rashes at random that itch so badly I claw myself bloody. I overheat and have hot flashes in temperate rooms. The skin on my face and neck and shoulders turns red and hot to the touch, like I’m burning for hours with no immediately discernible provocation.

Some days, I wake up and I don’t have the strength to get out of bed. Some days I can’t wake up at all. I’ve slept through deafening alarms for hours, long enough for my phone battery to run out and die. I can only stand up for ten minutes a day without being hobbled by the effort, and every extra minute beyond that I pay for in hours spent bedbound by exhaustion and pain.

I keep losing words. I’ll arrive at the middle of a sentence and stumble to a halt, because the word I need isn’t there. It’s not true aphasia, and it’s not all the time. I comprehend written and verbal communication perfectly well, but I can’t get my own thoughts out without tripping over them.

I am, to quote a friend attending school to be a nurse practitioner, “a textbook case for SLE,” and I agree, but somehow I can’t pay a doctor to treat me seriously.

In January, I was referred to a rheumatologist after the bloodwork my PCP ordered indicated I had autoimmune activity of some kind.

To date, that’s my only test for anything that’s come out definitively positive for any kind of disease state at all. Ever. I tested negative for celiac disease on a technicality nine years ago, despite how specifically and intensely sick gluten makes me, so I was dismayed but not too surprised when follow-up bloodwork for lupus came back just barely inside the range of “normal.” Despite that, I wasn’t prepared to be jerked around as much as I have been.

The first rheumatologist I saw, back at the end of January, had barely been in the exam room for thirty seconds when I could see he’d already made up his mind about me. He was dismissive and perfunctory and condescending when he told me that “plenty of perfectly healthy people have positive ANA results,” and he referred me back to my PCP for an exercise program and antidepressants to treat my “fibromyalgia.”

Putting aside that I’m not a “perfectly healthy person,” I’m a Fat Lady living in America, and I’ve experienced medical fatphobia for decades at this point. You learn the key words and phrases pretty quickly, and “exercise program” has never not been a euphemism for “weight loss.” (Which is heavily ironic in this particular situation, because before I was Fat, I walked 2-3 miles a day for funsies and spent 15-20 hours in the gym every week. I only stopped because I somehow shredded both my ACLs in one summer. I’d love to get back to that if a rheumatologist could help me figure out how to be active and uninjured at the same time.)

I was frustrated after that first appointment, enough to request a referral to one of the best teaching hospitals in the country. Why not go to the best, right? There was a five month wait for an appointment, but I am stubborn, and I made use of the time by documenting every bullshit symptom my body threw at me. I have a daily symptom journal, full of subjective entries like my pain and fatigue levels, as well as objective entries like daily temperature changes and photos of my rashes and my burning face and my goddamn mouth ulcers.

I thought I had enough logged to be impossible to ignore, and then I saw the second rheumatologist three weeks ago, and the first sentence out of her mouth was the beginning of an interrogation on my blood pressure, and whether I was taking medication or if I was on a fucking exercise program for it. I tried to get the appointment back on track by sharing my symptom diary, and she turned back to my just-under-the-wire test results, and told me, “many healthy people have positive ANA results, it doesn’t mean anything without other positive test results for specific conditions.”

I said, “Healthy people don’t run a fever for months.”

And then she told me that a "fever is not associated with any of the conditions a rheumatologist treats." I was so startled by the confidence and authority with which she stated the lie that I was unable to speak to rouse a defense or contribute anything else for the rest of the appointment. After an insultingly brief examination, in which I never took my face mask off and she declined to look at any of my photos, she said that she “didn’t see anything that could be rheumatologically wrong with me.”

I asked her what she thought could be wrong with me, and she grudgingly admitted it’s possible, though rare to have an autoimmune disease and test negative for everything, so she would order more tests and refer me to appropriate specialists for my various symptoms. She ordered a referral to an infectious disease specialist for my fevers, and a referral to a dermatologist for my “rosacea” (that she’s assuming I have, because I would like to again note she did not see it, at no point did she actually look at my face or a photo of it), and a referral to an ENT for a salivary gland biopsy for my dry mouth, and a referral to a neurologist for my “stroke-like” memory and speech problems.

It was, all told, an unbearably shitty appointment. I cried in my car for an hour in the hospital parking garage so I wouldn’t do anything impulsive like lying down in traffic, and then I went home, cried some more, and went to bed for three days.

On the fourth day, I woke up enraged. It’s one thing to be blown off by a doctor when you’re just reporting symptoms without proof, it’s a wholly different thing for a doctor to ignore your proof and lie about diagnostic criteria to your face.

It’s hard enough not to think you’re crazy when your test results come back negative over and over; it’s that much harder after being told that your major concrete measurable symptom is diagnostically irrelevant, when it really, really isn’t.

(for the record, just going off the symptoms I can concretely prove I’ve experienced in the last week alone, I land a 16 on this chart, which is the most up-to-date, widely agreed-upon diagnostic criteria)

I have decided, for the moment, to play ball. I don’t have the energy to jump through all the hoops this rheumatologist wants, but I'm angry enough to drag myself through them. Tomorrow I’m supposed to see the infectious diseases specialist. On Wednesday I see the dermatologist. In two weeks I see the ENT, and I’ve got a neurology appointment tentatively scheduled for December.

I’m going to be blisteringly forthright with all of these doctors about why I’m there, and that I’m looking to exclude diagnoses other than the lupus I pretty obviously have. (Except with the ENT. Apparently they treat allergies, and I’d like to be able to go outside long enough to walk a dog, someday.)

I’m supposed to see this rheumatologist again at the end of November. Depending on how this week’s appointments go, I’m aiming to either move up my appointment with her when one becomes available, or just send a firm yet diplomatic email asking why the diagnostic criteria apply to everyone but me.

If anybody else has gotten through this fucking nightmare successfully, I’m open to suggestions, it’s not like it can get worse at this point.

#long post #sufferpunk life #chronic illness #chronic pain #sle #lupus #aka why I've gotten nothing interesting or creative done since last year #fml

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sylvieons · 2 years

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today in incompetent medical professionals:

i went to the dermatologist last month or so to get a refill on acne meds. while there i mentioned i had acne behind both my ears which i thought was weird and a lot on my scalp. he stared at it for a long time and told me to put the acne medication behind my ears.

i had a facial like two days later and the lady doing it looked behind my ears and was like "that's a rash. if you put those meds on it you're going to make it worse"

so i made another appointment with another dermatologist because clearly somebody is wrong. in the meantime my hair started falling out really bad.

the new dermatologist said it was a kind of dermatitis that spread to my scalp and infected my hair follicles and that's why my hair is falling out :) i could have avoided this had the first guy actually KNOWN SOMETHING ABOUT HIS JOB

#dot txt #i swear i hate them all more and more every day

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eilonwiiy · 3 years

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a little life update:

my work’s abusive admin made their mass exodus in january and life has vastly improved. however...

we have to clean up their mess

i’ve been temporarily promoted to full-time to cover the holes in our schedule and make up for our severe lack of staff. as happy as i am about the extra money, it’s been almost two months and i can’t wait to go back to part-time. i miss having the free time and responsibilities that have been put on me at work are stressing me out and, ultimately, should not be my responsibility (i.e. booking programmers for summer reading, calculating a budget).

(for the record, i truly don’t mind assisting in these things. but without a children’s librarian and no sustainable budget there are just so many unknowns for my department’s future that are deterring me from making any real progress. we thankfully just hired a new children’s librarian and teen librarian so i’ve kind of mental stepped back from it all bc soon it will be out of my hands once they officially start)

virtual programming will soon be a reality for me and i’m scared shitless. i have an eating disorder. i’m not in a place where i’m starving myself and haven’t been for quite some time, but my ED mentality is very active and at the forefront of my mind always. being on film is a massive, asteroid sized trigger for me and if i’m being perfectly frank, i do not have a coping mechanism strong enough to fend off the disordered voice in my head. i have tried. multiple times over the course of the pandemic. and every time ends with me imploding.

working full-time has also forced me to accept just how bad my mental health is, particularly my ED. even if i’m not engaging in behaviors, my train of thought is harmful and causing me so much undeserved pain. it’s so frustrating knowing that i enjoy the work that i do enough that i could work full-time at my current job if i wanted to. but my ED and depression drains me of all my energy making it that i can’t.

and of course in the midst of all this, my skin has a had major outburst so bad that i actually called out sick last week to go to an emergency doctor’s appointment. i still need to make an appointment with a dermatologist, but we’re pretty sure it’s ringworm -_- i obsessively apply the creams they prescribed me and am taking meds too, but it’s taken a toll on my already dwindling mental health. like, if i was self-conscious of my body before, now it’s all i think about. getting dressed was already a challenge, but now that i have to take this rash into consideration, it’s a nightmare. just another reason why i can’t wait to go back to part-time.

some positives...

i’m still drawing and learning new stuff with krita! i have so many unfinished witchlands arts and i’m hoping the new book will reignite my inspiration.

i’ve been reading a lot. i’m trying to read more middle grade to broaden my readers’ advisory. so far so good.

my sister and i are hardcore obsessed with naruto. it’s been an absolute joy being this invested in my ninja bbs. honestly, it’s been one of the brightest spots in all the darkness lately.

WITCHSHADOW IS COMING OUT IN LESS THAN 2 MONTHS. i need to do a reread, but at the same time i’ve read these books and listened to the audiobooks so many times that maybe i don’t lol.

i started a new game of Horizon Zero Dawn! i’ve been thinking about it for a while, but the rash is what tipped me over the edge lol. i just love the hzd world so much; i feel like i’ve come home :)

even though i feel like shit most of the time right now, there’s still a lot of good stuff around me and i know how valuable it is to be able to see that!

#personal #eilonwiiy talks #i see some messages in my inbox #i'll get to those as soon as i can!#thanks in advance for you patience <3

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rarebritney · 3 years

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I don’t know how much u could help but I’ve noticed that basically everything breaks me out every new sunscreen I get every new cleanser most concealers it’s funny bc a while back I went a few days without washing my face (pandemic + depression) and it really cleared up so it stays fine as long as I don’t put any products on it but I want to be able to go out wearing makeup and then cleanse and exfoliate :( any advice

oh no!! This is interesting bc I went through a similar thing, I started getting perioral dermatitis around a year ago and for a while everything I used made it worse, like itchy sad red rash around my mouth it was so awful! I had to stop using everything and only washed my face with water. After a while of just washing with water it cleared up and I started to reintroduce some things but I still can't use anything exfoliating below my nose or it comes back? I wonder if this is something similar bc with my dermatitis I'd also get angry bumps/pimples sometimes. Anyhow, it's probably best for you to continue doing what has been working (as in not doing anything to your face) and maybe make an appointment with a dermatologist bc you could possibly benefit from some kind of steroid cream or something similar? Here are some products I can now use without irritation: clinique take the day off oil cleanser, tower28 sos spray (really helpful for breakouts and rashes in my experience), hylauronic acid serums from good molecules, Klairs rich moist soothing cream, la roche posay hydrating soothing cleanser. I don't exfoliate except for a warm washcloth when I take off my makeup, only wear sunscreen when I go outside, and I avoid acids/actives like the plague lol I only use the blandest products and my skin likes it that way! Hope this helps!

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tamakiamajikistentacles · 3 years

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Disappearance 8: The End {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Thank you to everyone who has been on this little journey with me! I hope this fic has been enjoyed even half as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Disappearance Masterlist

As his parents they were permitted to take the boy home to the apartment with them, and the boy liked Miki right away. When she wound herself around his shins and stood on her back legs to butt her head against his hand, he was smitten. The quiet giggles as he pet her and played with her and her toys were like music to both Katsuki and Chiasa.

Miki was happy to see Chiasa, licking her hand affectionately after receiving chin scratches in greeting. Chiasa could only marvel at how much she had grown since she last saw her as a tiny kitten pouncing on every dust particle in the apartment. It was a sweet reunion and one Katsuki had always hoped he would be fortunate enough to witness.

That seemed to be a new change in his life, being able to reclaim the peace he once had before Chiasa had disappeared, and now he was fortunate enough to have that with both her and their son.

Watching the reintroduction of mother and son at the hospital was surreal. Chiasa had marveled at the small boy she had once thought to be a hallucination standing in front of her in the flesh. It was obvious when the boy recognized her and spoke with caution that she was hurt just imagining what her voice had said to him without her consent. But she spoke warmly to him and promised that she was real and not the mother he thought he knew before.

The boy would experience the same thing soon when he found out who his real father was too.

Just thinking about the paperwork with the paternity test results tucked away in his bag was enough to have his spine tingling. They hadn’t sat the boy down to tell him that Katsuki was his father quite yet, afraid that too much change and information in one day wouldn’t be good for him as he integrated into the real world. The child psychologist at the hospital had been more than supportive of the decision and offered his services going forward, something they readily accepted.

Another thing they had to deal with was setting up appointments to find out more about the skin condition causing the rashes and itchiness for him. The doctors had attempted a few preliminary tests that came back inconclusive and recommended a dermatologist for further testing and treatment. It seemed unlikely the generic skin cream they sent them home with would do much in the meantime but it was worth a shot.

He pondered all of this as he watched the pot with the beginnings of their miso soup was considering boiling. Down the short hall he could hear murmurs from the bathroom where the boy was finally able to get clean, to take what Katsuki knew was the first bath of his life with his mother. He left the kitchen knowing a watched pot never boils anyway and a glimpse of his son with his mother was much more important.

Quietly walking down the hallway, fingertips dragging against the wall lightly, the voices of his family became more clear.

“We stay here?”

Chiasa hummed an affirmative. “Yeah, this is where Katsuki lives and where I lived a long time ago.”

“Before Toga looked like you?”

A chill went up his spine.

“Yes, honey, before she would look like me,” she replied after a long pause. “I’m sad that she did that because it meant you got to meet me when it was really her and we never actually met at all. I’m sorry about that, but you can know that from now on when you see my face, it’s really me.”

“Really my mom?” he asked.

“I’m really your mom, yes. I’m going to take care of you for the rest of my life to make up for all the time we were apart okay?”

He couldn’t keep himself hidden after that, turning the corner to lean against the doorframe of the bathroom.

“I’m gonna help her too, that good with you?” he asked, both of the brunettes turning to look up at him.

The boy gave a little grin and nodded, a small murmur of, “Yes,” making sure both he and Chiasa smiled too.

“Good, ‘cause I ain’t going anywhere.”

“You should be going to the kitchen to make dinner,” Chiasa teased.

He waved a hand dismissively but started to turn back to the kitchen nonetheless. “Yeah, yeah, water’s probably boiling now anyway.”

It was easy like that, falling back into their old ways. Even with the addition of the boy they had their same rapport and he knew that as a family it could only get better.

Even though he knew it, it felt like it was cemented as soon as the quiet giggles of mother and son entered the kitchen while he plated their meal. Looking over at the two brunettes he couldn’t believe how naturally they fit into this picture of his life.

Now that the boy had been cleaned up his dark hair wasn’t matted and he could see the small spikey tufts sticking out every which way. It looked more like his mother’s slightly longer hair but those were without a doubt definitely from his side of the gene pool. It was overwhelming to realize but even moreso to know that he already loved it and couldn’t imagine a time where he wouldn’t.

His entire being was screaming that it was outrageous for him to feel this way so quickly when he barely knew the boy but it was his son! His son with Chiasa! It was everything he had ever wished for from the time he realized she was the one for him to the present moment.

Katsuki was content to have this first meal as a family and to watch the two of them scamper off to the couch as he cleaned up after them. He was happy to hear the boy speak about the brightly colored cat cartoon they were watching even if they were small remarks. He could absolutely get used this this dynamic.

His thoughts were racing trying to think of everything they would need for the boy as he was brought fully into the fold of their lives. Surely there would also be medical appointments other than to treat the skin condition in addition to the therapy both he and his mother would be attending.

“We’ll have to make the office his bedroom,” he mused aloud as Chiasa laid against him on the couch. The boy sat cross-legged at their feet, entranced with an older cartoon he vaguely recognized.

She hummed. “Should we let him have the bed until then? Assuming you still have the old futon.”

“Yeah, I have it. Kid deserves a good night’s sleep on a nice mattress. You do too, so I’ll take the futon and you two get the bed.”

“No, I wanna stay with you,” she said. “We’ll sleep on the futon in there with him though, just in case.”

“Look at you going into Mom Mode already.”

She playfully elbowed him in the side. “As if you haven’t won Dad of the Year in a day.”

He scoffed but pulled her closer to him. The natural protectiveness over his family blanketed over his paranoia to keep them in his sights as often as he could, even in the apartment.

Even with the League members behind bars, Dabi and Compress for years and now Spinner, Toga, and Shigaraki following, he did feel the fear of losing them again. Deku’s refusal to end Shigaraki irked him knowing what he was capable of but he had said he would leave him to Deku and he had. He couldn’t burn that bridge, flammable as it surely would be.

He shook his head slightly to clear the thoughts from his mind. He had his family here with him now and he would do anything to keep them safe.

Chiasa could remember the victory it was for Dabi to be taken into custody and locked away in Tartarus. Almost the entirety of Class A reunited in celebration of his capture and many a toast was raised that night. But several days later the celebratory mood was dashed as a consultant was brought in to assist in the identification of the uncooperative villain.

The man was called the Biographer, his quirk the same as the moniker. If he made to skin to skin contact with another person he could recite factual information about them such as name, birthdate, parents’ names, quirk, and so much more. It was chilling when he pressed a hand to the unmarred skin of Dabi’s hand and began to speak.

“Touya Todoroki, born January 18th at 9:55pm in the Chūbu region of Honshu, Japan, currently 33 years, 330 days old. Firstborn son of Enji and Rei Todoroki, elder sibling of Fuyumi, Natsu, and Shoto Todoroki. Quirk: Cremation.”

Of course it hit Shoto the hardest as expected but the class was close, a bond having been formed from the horrors of heroics at such a young age that they shared his pain. Even Katsuki had been sympathetic despite the hell that the villain had personally put him through.

The fear of learning something devastating was why when the Biographer stepped into his spacious office he tensed. Paternity tests could be wrong, couldn’t they? What if Chiasa just didn’t remember Shigaraki entering the room and the memories were locked away as a coping mechanism for the trauma? He was terrified that this meeting would create more obstacles for her, potentially even for the little boy—Todoroki himself had been an example of a mother gone mad from the sins of the father.

Kirishima elbowed him in the side, breaking up his thoughts and directing his attention to their guest. He was grateful that he and Kaminari had agreed to come, hoping it put Chiasa at ease just as much as him. She stood by his side, the little boy standing close behind her leg and gripping her hand tightly.

“Hello,” the Biographer greeted kindly. “I understand that there are a few questions about a child that need to be answered?”

Katsuki found his voice as Chiasa’s hand laced with his between them. “The only certainty we have are his parents,”—he hoped he wasn’t wrong in saying so—"everything else we need to know. We want the same basic information as we did with the villain Dabi, like we discussed.”

The Biographer nodded, turning to Chiasa. “And you’re his mother, ma’am?”

“Yes,” she replied, dropping his hand and crouching down to the boy’s level when he shrank under the unknown man’s gaze.

“Can he place his palm in mine for just a few moments?” he asked politely with a small smile. “It’s absolutely painless and he’s free to move his hand at any time.”

“Is that okay, honey?” she asked the wide-eyed child. “You just set your hand in his and we can learn more about you?” When he still looked unsure she added, “I’ll hold your other hand, and we have three strong heroes here to keep us safe.”

The boy nodded, eyes flicking up over her shoulder to meet Katsuki’s. “You stay close?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, walking around her to kneel on his other side. He placed a hand on his back. “I’m right here.”

That seemed to satisfy him enough to look at the Biographer who also crouched down. He extended his upturned palm out to him, patiently waiting until the boy placed his trembling hand atop it.

The Biographer smiled at him reassuringly, glancing at the adults on either side of him and hoping to provide the same comfort. Then he began to speak.

"Born on February 11th at 7:19pm in Nagoya, Japan, currently 3 years, 237 days old. Firstborn child of Katsuki Bakugo and Chiasa Minamino. Quirk currently unknown."

A sob broke past Chiasa’s lips, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth. Startled by the outburst the little boy took his hand away to turn to his mother only to be swept up in a tight hug. He wrapped his small arms around her neck as his bottom lip started to wobble.

Katsuki felt like he could cry too as the weight and fear of uncertainty lifted from his shoulders, and even as he smiled up at his friends he felt the telltale sting in his eyes.

“Come here,” Chiasa said, reaching out to bring him into the embrace. He went willingly and wrapped his arms around them both, his eyes falling closed in happiness as he held his family.

He pressed a kiss to Chiasa’s temple and then to the top of his son’s head, the soft brown tufts tickling his cheek.

Distantly he heard the Biographer excuse himself and Kaminari offer to walk him out. Kirishima followed and glanced back at the little family with a smile. They deserved this. All three of them.

Still sitting on his office floor Chiasa had pulled their son—their son!—into her lap and held him close, the little boy still confused from her crying but happy to be with his mother nonetheless. Katsuki sat close to them, one arm wrapped around her shoulders and a grin still on his face. There were still a lot of things to work out, but this moment deserved to linger.

After a few silent minutes, Chiasa glanced up at Katsuki and smiled softly. She’d known since he told her about the small child while she was in the hospital but to hear it confirmed again was a melody she hoped would stay in her mind forever. But even though she knew he was the little boy’s father the child himself didn’t, and that needed to change.

It felt like there was so much she could say but no words that seemed right. She supposed that didn’t matter though, as long as this little boy knew his parents and knew they loved him.

“Honey,” she murmured, pulling back slightly to look in the boy’s eyes, “did you hear what that man said? Do you know what it means?”

That little pout returned to his face as he considered what she meant. “It was sad. It made you cry.”

“Those were happy tears,” she chuckled. “It wasn’t sad at all. It was really, really good. You know how Katsuki saved us?”

Matching eyes met his as he looked up at him, nodding. “Saved me. Saved you.”

“That’s right, he did. He saved us from Shigaraki and brought us home.”

“Saved us… from dad?”

She bit her lip, glancing at Katsuki briefly to see his jaw set at the false title. “Shigaraki isn’t your dad, honey.”

“No dad?” he asked.

Chiasa shook her head. “You have a dad. You’re the luckiest little boy because your dad is a hero who saves people.”

The boy turned to Katsuki. “Like you?”

“Sort of,” he said with a laugh. “What if I told you it was me? That I’m your dad?”

His eyes widened with what Katsuki hoped was excitement, and he leaned over to place his hand on his knee. He looked back and forth between both him and Chiasa several times, gaze on their eyes and hair respectively, before looking down at his hands where his right was on Katsuki and his left on his mother.

“You’re dad,” he finally said, patting his knee. Then he turned to Chiasa, tapping his fingers on her arm. “You’re mom.”

“That’s right, honey,” Chiasa whispered, one hand combing through his fluffy hair. “And mom and dad aren’t going anywhere, we all get to go home and be a family.”

“Family,” he repeated. “My family.”

He hugged her tightly and she pressed a kiss to his forehead, then he crawled over into Katsuki’s lap, throwing his arms around his neck and hiding his face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around him too, every nerve in his body alight knowing that this was his son. He was hugging his son.

“You’re dad,” he heard whispered against him. “My dad.”

“Yeah, your dad,” he said softly. “’M your dad and even… even though we just met, I love you. Me and your mom both do.”

He sighed happily into his shoulder and pressed himself closer. They stayed like that for a long moment, Chiasa’s lashes lined with tears beside them.

Katsuki wanted to stay in that moment forever, but he knew there were still a lot of things to discuss with her. So he pulled back slightly and asked, “Hey little man, you know what you should do?”

Owlish eyes blinked up at him from where his chin rested on his chest.

“You should tell Red Riot and Chargebolt about your family. I don’t think they know yet, and they’ll be real excited,” he said with a nod to the door. It was still open and they could clearly see the two heroes a few meters down the hall.

The boy looked back over his shoulder, considering, before turning back to look between his parents.

“We’ll be right here,” Chiasa promised. “They’re friends, honey.”

With a little smile, the child climbed out of Katsuki’s lap and trotted up to where they stood, greeted excitedly by both of them.

Chiasa took his hand in hers and laid her head on his shoulder. “This is amazing.”

He squeezed her hand. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“It feels like the sun is finally rising after a long night. Like daybreak is chasing away the darkness.”

Katsuki kissed her cheek, then tilted her chin up towards him with his free hand to kiss her properly. She was right—this was dawn rising after four years and four months of night. Dawn was finding her and their son and being a family after the darkness of the League had shrouded them for so long. It was fresh and new, filled with endless possibility.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “You and our son.”

“I love you too. And so does he.”

He smiled, looking out to where the small boy was speaking to Kirishima and Kaminari who were crouched down to his level and smiling.

“He needs a proper name,” she murmured, her head resting on his shoulder once again.

He hummed. “I think you’re right about the sunrise, so what about Asahi?”

“Daybreak rising,” she said with a smile. “Yeah, that’s our boy, Katsuki. Asahi Bakugo.”

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated!

Disappearance Masterlist

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stevefrommaine · 3 years

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My name's Steve I am in critical no wed of medical help.

Fast five years have been living hell for me . And out of the ER dermatologist I've been to mayo health clinic I've been to Grady hospital Atlanta countless trips eRS all over the country where I was at work construction I travel a great deal,

To make this short and sweet 3 years ago I was diagnosed with a tapeworm by Dr

North Ridge hospital.

commerce Georgia..

I did the albendazol treatment 2 200mg every 12 hours for 20 days

And still after that I still had complications

I moved back here to my home state of maine where the majority of my family lives.

Dr Oz as I sit here struggling to try to get my message out to you this tapeworm it whatever it it has grown immensely inside me. I have my own ideas what it could be now from hard it's winding and twisting rashes covering my body .

It's rare to have this form of parasite in the United States but have travel overseas Central America South America Aruba the Bahamas Jamaica working traveling so I have been subjected to third world country situations conditions.

Now that I've moved back to Maine I came back before the pandemic was even announced or known of.

Well here's what's going on with this thing I've had blockage in my intestines irritated stomach upset stomach to where I have a bowel movement ain't nothing easier about it I have to dig it out of my button half the time very disgusting.

I've been to four different hospitals up here all of them I tell him that I have something happening down my butt whatever it is comes out of there and a smelly stinky liquid like molasses kind of. But when it comes out it's coming up my body to my head ,after it's stopped or I've crammed tissues or whatever else is at hand into my butt to physically stop it

Afterwards it's noticeable it's not just a puss/snot like liquid,it also has a definite hairlike consistency.thus wraps around my body from my groin to my head,when solidified/dried.

Next comes it next defense I call it.à liquid sweeps thru till it soaks what just came out prior and I'm telling you it's like it's super glued to my skin I can show you a dozen or more diagnosis,s of me being

Delusional parasitosis for 5 years now this thing is progressively gotten worse bigger and covers more of my body than ever before you tell me what it is tracks up my back in my shoulders to the back of my head up and twist around my head usually a figure 8 pattern it looks like somebody put a mask on me whatever it is my worst enemy.. its probably one of the best tailors in existence.

I'm thoroughly in disbelief that how could somebody doctors not see the signs and symptoms I'm showing them yet they ignore me and send me on my way only get worse me.

I truly apologize for stumbling and babbling on my typos and I'm trying to word this best I can but Mr Oz as we should just speak to my mouth is full of full of s*** my nose back my head hurts between my eyes I'm trying to get this s*** off the more I try to get it off bigger please help me my name is Steve so I can post some pictures I will show you whatever this is it comes out of my butt man cuz I'm on my butthole it's big it's like the freaking cows tongue and now when it comes out it don't just come out silently it effing hurts and it's headed for my face I've been in a constant battle literally since November 20th 2020 from a failed attempt of a colonoscopy. I wasn't prepared I wasn't having clear bowel movements yet the doctor went ahead with the procedure and tried to shoveling the camera up my butt and what he did was open up a can of worms because since that day this has not stopped coming out of my butt.

If these pictures don't show you anything I've got plenty more .

My head constantly has a throbbing pain between m eyes in my eyes all around my ears and the majority of my scalp is infected ,

Dr Oz I'm running on empty here and not sure how much more I can take .

Please if you can't help me send me the right direction I've made appointments to see specialist for the past few years only to have them canceled or move to later date and still I suffer I'm walking to the ER blood coming off my face only to have a doctor sit there and look at me and say so why are you back here today same problem like seeing bugs on your skin. I've never mentioned that I seen bugs crawling under my skin I said I had a tapeworm why can't someone help me I'm in Portland Maine .

I'm not begging for help I'm pleading

Steven Guy Dolloff

My cell#207-364-6347

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