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cool-jpgs-of-wizards-with-swords · 6 months

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every day the earth trembles under the weight of my potential. I have a 6 hour video essay about arknights and its ludonarrative in me and you motherfuckers are so lucky. So the thing about it thats the most interesting to me, right, is that there's a Magic Material in the worldbuilding. It's called Oriron. It grows in large, crystalline formations, which disperse a harmful dust which causes infection. Individuals infected with Oripathy die. All that medicine is able to do is slow it down. When they near death and after, those who are infected with oripathy start releasing that same dust that causes infection in others. When enough dust is released, it creates a "Catastrophe;" which can take various shapes, but invariably creates MASSIVE deposits of Oriron which fall like comets from the clouds of dust. Cities in the world of arknights have had to be built on moving platforms that roam across the countryside in order to avoid these catastrophes. (Mortal engines vibes btw.)

This material is also how technology, industry, and magic, all function in this world. Utilizing tools with Oriron, you can utilize it to do literal magic. It's also destroying the entire fucking world. Infected get to use the oriron inside them to do magic instead. neat! This kills them. Slowly, but it does.

Arknights is a gacha game. It's built on the same addictive spending models that have ruined so many fucking lives.

The premium currency of the game is. Oriron. Well. Orundum. There's like 60 different kinds of oriron which are all different upgrade materials because again, Gacha game. It's.

In Arknights, you play as "The Doctor", a figure working for a Pharmaceutical Company that is trying to cure oripathy. Amiya is the idealistic leader of said company. I haven't gotten to all the details about her past with the doctor or much of the lore. But her entire goal is to not betray her ideals of being able to be a force of good in a world that's utterly fucked. Because of. The Premium Currency Of The Game.

Anyway the arknights true ending is a free-to-play fangame because the structure of arknights as a media property WILL not allow it to end. And whether it was intentional or not, the fact that the premium currency of the game is also Magic Supercancer DOES make this a more poignant point for me.

In the end, to give Amiya the future she wants to see, we, the players, as doctors, need to see the real cure for Oripathy. We cannot accept the continued use of Oriron for industry. There are hundreds of thousands of disenfranchized Infected, who might be able to help us transition from a society that depends on oriron to a society that does not.

#arknights #no i havent gotten very far in the game so idk if im directly contradicting lore or something. i know better anyway <3

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quietly-by-myself · 1 year

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Shadow By My Fireplace - Chapter 32

Masterlist

Thank you to @darkthingshappen for cheering me on with this chapter.

This is a happy chapter

CW: reunion, recovery whump

===

Sacha sat anxiously on his handmade bed, watching his phone. The phone call wasn’t even an hour ago and it would take his mom and dad at least two hours to reach Syracuse.

He could hardly believe it. For all those years, he’d believed that he would never see his family again. He believed that they wouldn’t want him. He believed that he was ruined. Now, they were driving to come get him. They still loved him after all those years. Hearing his mother’s voice had made that clear. He wasn’t ruined, not to her.

Cyril had a sad smile on his face. Sacha knew what he was worried about - he was worrying about it, too. Neither of them wanted to leave the other. They were perhaps a pair of bonded cats - one who’d been beaten and left for death and the other who’d lost their bonded.

“Sacha, I- I wanted to say that I’m really happy for you.”

Cyril’s voice was full of an emotion that Sacha couldn’t quite pinpoint. There was an air of sadness between them, even if it should’ve been a happy time.

Would Sacha’s mom accept Cyril - the tall, gruff, tattooed ex-doctor with enormous difficulty accepting people into his big, broken heart? Sacha didn’t know. She might find him bizarre. After all, Cyril was much older than him.

Sacha wondered - would she accept his tattoos? His scars? What if she balked when she saw him? He didn’t look like her son anymore.

“Cyril, I’m, um, thankful for everything you’ve done.”

Cyril nodded. “If I can’t come with you, promise that you’ll call me once and a while?”

Sacha sat there, stunned. Silence hung between the two of them. “You- you want to come with me?”

Again, Cyril nodded, this time more shyly. “I’m sorry. It probably seems strange. I’d - I want to move to Hope or somewhere close. I could open a practice. I’ve always done rural medicine. Maybe I could help you or your mother with aches and pains.”

Tears formed in Sacha’s eyes. “You want to practice again?”

Cyril took a deep breath. “You’ve shown me something I’d forgotten, Sacha. The majority of people in this world are good. They’re resilient. They stand up against great evil. The bad aren’t worth saving, but most aren’t bad. After all, this whole world would be so fucked up it wouldn’t function if everyone was bad. So, I want to practice again. Especially near your home.”

“But- what about your cabin? Your garden?”

“I’ll sell it. You mean more to me than a pile of sticks.” Cyril looked around a bit. “It’s… probably better that I leave anyway. I’m at a different place in my life now. This represents a different time, now. I can plant a garden wherever there’s dirt.”

The two of them sat in silence for a while. Though Cyril most often took care of Sacha, Sacha couldn’t help but feel proud of Cyril. Cyril had softened a lot since he first met him. Whether or not that was because they’d grown inseparably close, Sacha didn’t know.

“I think it does for both of us,” Sacha eventually said.

Cyril nodded his agreement.

They sat in silence again. Amber came to them eventually and began to knead the blanket Sacha had swaddled her in when she was a vulnerable kitten. She almost looked like a full-grown cat now.

The ringing of Sacha’s full-volume default ringtone filled the room, shattering the silence they found themselves in.

“Sacha? Are you there?”

It was Sacha’s dad. Sacha’s breath hitched in his throat. He was suddenly reminded of how close he was to going home. It felt far in the future, even if it was less than three hours away.

“Yes, Papa, I am. Are you in Syracuse?”

“Yes, we’re almost out of the city. We got stuck in a jam.”

Sacha chuckled a little. It all felt so surreal, like he was in a movie. He could hardly believe that he was going home.

“Sacha? What’s the name of the person you’re with? We want to be able to thank him when we get there.”

“His name is Cyril. Cyril Galanos.”

Cyril looked up at Sacha, looking a little confused.

“Okay. Thank you. You’re, um, you’re safe, really, right?”

Sacha smiled a bit into the phone. “Yes, I really am.”

“Okay.” His dad went quiet. “Okay,” he added a little more forcefully. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, Papa. I love you.”

The line went quiet. “I love you, too.” His voice was shaking. Then the beep came that his dad had hung up.

Sacha looked at Cyril. “That was my dad. They’re in Syracuse.”

Cyril nodded. “Okay. Will they need food?”

Sacha nodded. “I doubt they’re stopping to eat.”

—

Sacha heard the car doors shut before he saw his mom.

When he saw her, he thought he was going to faint. All the blood rushed to his feet. His heart stopped beating for what felt like a minute. She was black-haired like him with hazel eyes. People always said he had his mother’s eyes. It was true, too, he guessed.

His dad came out next. He was tall - something Sacha didn’t inherit - but had the same black hair and green eyes. He was starting to bald and he had gray hairs that Sacha didn’t remember. Luckily, his mom’s side didn’t bald.

Nothing could stop Sacha. He ran to the door, throwing it open, and ran into his mother’s arms.

He saw the moment when she saw him, the recognition in her eyes. The shock, the awe, the happiness, the sadness for the years they lost together - all of it came to her chest as she held her son.

It wasn’t long before both of them were crying. She held Sacha tightly, pulling him close like she would never let him go.

“We missed you,” she hiccuped a bit. “We missed you so much, Sacha. It’s so good to see you again.”

“I missed you. I thought about you and Papa every day.”

She hugged him tighter at that. Eventually, Sacha’s dad joined the hug, tears rolling down his face, too.

“We never thought we would see you again, Sacha,” his dad said, holding both Sacha and his mother tight.

“I- I still can’t believe I’m out.”

“Yes, and now you’re in my arms. You never have to go back. That much, I promise you,” Sacha’s mom whispered into his hair, rubbing it gently.

They were silent, hugging and crying and making up for the four years lost in precious, loving seconds.

“How did it happen? How did you get out?” his mother eventually asked, pushing Sacha back a bit so she could look at him.

“M- The man who kept me, he died of an infection. I was able to escape. He left my room unlocked.”

His mother smiled and cupped his face, right below the scar Emery had left on his cheek. When Sacha looked into her face, it was as though she’d aged ten years in the four he’d been gone.

“So, a miracle. God was watching over you.” She smiled warmly. “Your birthday is in two weeks. We’ll be able to celebrate it together. You’re even home for Christmas. I never believed I would see another one of your birthdays or spend another Christmas with you.”

Her face contorted with sadness as she started sobbing again, pulling Sacha close.

When all had calmed down and the stories and emotions of years had been passed silently through hugs, Cyril came from behind.

“Mrs. and Mr. Matisse, my name is Cyril Galanos. I found your son after he’d escaped. I’m a former doctor and I was able to help nurse him back to health.”

Sacha’s mom walked towards Cyril, smiling. “You’re my son’s guardian angel?”

Cyril took a moment of pause, then smiled a bit. “I guess so.”

Her eyes filled with emotion as she looked upon the long-haired, tattooed doctor. “I cannot put into words my thanks. You gave us our son back. I just… you saved him. You’re practically family for that. We will forever be in your debt.”

A twinge of sadness flickered through Cyril’s eyes as he smiled genuinely at Sacha’s mom. “You don’t owe me anything. It’s okay.”

“Please, allow us to have even one meal with you. I’ll drive you to my home and pay for your plane ticket and fare back.”

“Well, I- um, I cooked you and your husband food. I didn’t know if you’d eaten on your way here.”

“No, no, you’re too kind!”

Cyril smiled, opening the door to his cabin. “I insist. We can eat outside if it makes you more comfortable.”

Sacha’s mom moved towards the door when Sacha willingly went inside, patting Cyril’s shoulder. The bond between the two men was obvious. This was not the man who’d hurt Sacha. And he had been hurt. She could see it in his eyes and the way he carried himself now.

Sacha’s mom looked around, taking in the whole place. She noticed the handmade bed, the thick, warm bed sheets, the warm fireplace, the medical supplies, the glasses on Sacha’s face, and the cat that wandered around the place. Sacha had been cared for - that much was obvious. His dad went straight to the table. Ever since an accident at his work, well, Sacha guessed it was five years ago, he had a bad knee that acted up if he stood for too long.

Cyril went into the kitchen and served the food. Amber came from around the bend to Cyril’s bedroom to investigate the new people.

Sacha’s mom laughed a bit. “Is the cat yours, Cyril?”

“No, she’s all Sacha’s. Sacha raised her.”

“Well, then, I guess she’s coming with us.”

They all exchanged a laugh, then silence fell over them.

“Really, Cyril, if you think of anything we can do to repay you, let us know, okay?”

Cyril nodded, but looked pensive as he began to eat his soup. Sacha wondered what was on his mind and if, after tomorrow, he’d ever see Cyril again. The thought didn’t sit well with him. How was he supposed to choose between his family and the man who’d saved him? His brother.

That’s tomorrow’s problem, Sacha.

Again, that little Cyril-voice in his head told him everything would be okay. Sacha just had to believe it.

===

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#whump #whump writing #whump story #whump fic #whumpblr #whump community #whump comfort #reunion #recovery whump #shadow by my fireplace #cyril #sacha

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disabledopossum · 8 months

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I think I'm slowly going insane..

Having disabilities sucks.

I'm either spending too much time in my room, curled up in bed and sleeping. ( Or trying to sleep, due to my insomnia causing me serious issues.) Or I'm hold up in my room, nestled in my chair, gaming until I can't think about the pain. Either way, I almost never leave this room.

It's has a bathroom, I have a small stash of snacks near my desk. ( No, my room is never dirty, everything is tidy and in well put together. My anxiety and OCD never let this place get messy. I grew up living like that and lemme tell you the trauma is real. ) I'm grateful for the life my Wife and Partner are giving me. But I really feel like that hollow feeling is growing in my heart.

I'm on a 100mg of Lamotrigine ( Lamotrigine is a medicine used to treat epilepsy. It can also help prevent low mood (depression) in adults with bipolar disorder.), 600mg Gabapentin that I take three times a day due to my fibromyalgia. Having multiple disabilities that overlap makes me want to scream. It's not fair that it feels like my body is slowly breaking down. I just want to be able to function, and I can't even do that mentally either.

My memory issues, depression, and the brain damage I suffered as a toddler fucked me up to the point where I have to have someone gently explaining things so I don't get confused or overwhelmed. It's insulting, but I know if I get too upset or confused I run the risk of having a seizure or severe panic attack.

I'm tired. I don't want to do this anymore, but I can't give up.

Holding onto life for someone else's feelings is a lot to deal with, but I'm tired of everything hurting all the time. All the doctor's visits. The expenses. The strain it takes on my Wife and Partner. The people that do..for reasons I don't understand...care for me..

I don't know. Life is a lot, but I am trying.

It all feels hopeless. But I can't give up. I have to keep trying, if not for my sake, but for my family.

#bpd #bipolar disorder #depression #fibromyalgia #disabled #chronically ill #severe anxiety #chronic pain #chronic fatigue #chronic illness #chronic disability #borderline blog #borderline personality disorder #actually borderline #insomnia #polyamory #poly

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jenroses · 2 years

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In the past 30 days: I came down with covid and the flu simultaneously Devoting all my executive function to taking covid/flu meds religiously on time led me to be late on my ongoing antiviral once, by 6 hours, so I had a brief flare of both shingles AND cold sores. They calmed back down once i got back on track. And now I have a bladder infection.

You would think, with my history (rheumatoid arthritis and resulting immune suppression and steroid-induced diabetes, asthma, obesity, physical and mental health issues, EDS, fibro, clotting disorders, etc.) that coming down with four viruses and a bacteria in this period of time would be horrible.

But you know what? Modern medicine is a good thing. Antivirals are a good thing. Antibiotics are amazing. I took ONE dose of the antibiotic and my symptoms for the UTI are already loads better. I got over the flu in THREE FUCKING DAYS. The flu used to take me out for 2 weeks, sometimes 3 if I got a secondary infection, and that was when I wasn't on immune suppressants. Tamiflu plus elderberry, taken soon after symptoms start, work like magic. Covid was minor. Yes, I know it's minor for a lot of people but with my risk factors? And getting it with the flu? I took an anti-covid antiviral, and of course was already taking elderberry for the flu. I have a few minor lingering issues but they're basically issues I already have, just kicked from a 6 to a 6.5, ish. Like I used to hate black pepper and then I learned to tolerate it and now I can't tolerate it again. That kind of thing. Sensory stuff is more brittle than it was, suboptimal pants are not an option. But seriously, shingles used to be a mandatory 6 week excruciating ordeal. I noticed the tingle-itch-prickle in that nerve, took my not-today-satan pills (famcyclovir) and it never really managed to get going. Cold sore was a specific prickle and a single small bump, never even scabbed. My kid was diagnosed with both flu and strep today, and he's not very sick either, and I don't even have to get swabbed for strep because the UTI drug will also treat strep. (Cefdinir)

I caught Covid 2 weeks after the bivalent shot, went off my immune suppressing drug, and kicked it to the curb with the help of targeted meds and a little herbal knowledge. I've been miserable for days with this UTI and finally got the executive function to get us to the doctor and boom, better.

I am begging you. If you get sick, and you know you're sick, if you can, get tested quickly and treated quickly. Tamiflu is supposed to cut hours off the flu, but in my experience combined with elderberry, it has taken a 14 day illness and turned it into a 3 day illness, several times now. I've never had a flu shot. (I don't object to them in principle, but my body can have garbage reactions to immune provocation and by the time Covid happened the tamiflu/elderberry=3 days sick thing made the flu shot moot for me. The math on Covid works out well in favor of the covid shot.)

There's no benefit in suffering. Especially with Covid and the flu, which mutate constantly and can bork your immune system permanently (see: triggers for autoimmunity. I have 6 autoimmune conditions, fun times.) Covid, especially, can target the cells which remember Covid. Kick it to the curb, kick it hard, kick it fast, use the tools we have.

I didn't even catch bronchitis from all this, and I ALWAYS used to catch bronchitis. because CPAP.

FWIW elderberry also helps the immune system clear out post-vaccine yuck faster. Without, I had inflammatory flares for a month. A dose ended that cycle. Next immunizations I took elderberry sooner and didn't have anywhere near as bad a time. (It is not "just" an "immune booster", it specifically promotes the production/function of tumor necrosis factor and this makes it specifically good for things like influenza.) My reaction to the bivalent shot was a sore arm for a day and then a couple days of local pain. A minor RA flare, short lived, not severe.

Anyway. Wear a mask. Get your shots. If you get sick, have them swab you for both flu and covid, not just one or the other, and strep too, if you're getting a sore throat, because we are past the days of one or the other. Get the antivirals and take as directed. Hydrate. Rest, and rest an extra day on top of it, more if you can, to give your body a chance to really kick it all the way. Use the tools available to you.

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searchingforatrail · 1 year

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title: Canyon summary: It wasn't as if Knockout had never been attacked by a patient before. He was a war medic after all, and a civilian doctor before that. Bouts of patient delirium were commonplace during these trying times. Megatron was no exception.

He was his patient after all.

Now forcing Megatron to admit he has a problem, that's the real fight.

[original ao3]//[follow me on twitter]

Ch: 1/2

It wasn't as if Knockout had never been attacked by a patient before. And regardless of what others speculated, it wasn't due to his poor bedside manner. Striking appearance and aloof demeanor aside, he was a war medic and a regular doctor before that. Bouts of patient delirium were commonplace during these trying times. And those who remained ensnared within the confines of their agony, relieving trauma over and over in their processor were no strangers to Knockout's medical berth.

And Decepticons did not join the uprising out of want. A need to rise from the ordeal of their function was the common denominator. A denominator the Velocitronian had spent years treating.

It was partly why he'd trained Breakdown in the art of medicine. Or bodyguarding. For those very reasons. But on the Nemesis, he'd grown lax. For all their doom and gloom, Decepticons made stable patients. Aside from the occasional insecticon, Knockout hadn’t really needed Breakdown’s assistance. Often letting his conjux enjoy his time elsewhere while he remained locked away in the lab to tend to the patients.

Though now, with Megatron's servos clutching his sensitive neck cables, he began to rethink that.

It wasn't exactly as if Megatron could choke him. Not where his hands were now. But he could certainly rip his helm off of his body. And considering the staining of the wires and gears, he figured that’s exactly what the former gladiator was going for.

Somehow, during the routine post-battle check up, things had gone to the Pits. Knockout had been his usual chatty self, half-heartedly flirting with the silver mech. His spark wasn’t really in it, never was. And he knew Breakdown was the same with the mechs he entertained, Airachnid being one of them. But it never hurt to tease.

But, maybe that day he’d done too much teasing. Usually Megatron never minded, but his talking accompanied with a seemingly harmless rub on the warlord’s servo seemed to set the mood completely off.

In a fluid, enviously fast action, Megaton had flipped Knockout onto his back, slamming him into the ground and marking the beginning of his current ordeal.

The enormous weight suffocated him, a sharp knee digging into his chassis just above his spark chamber and claws tearing at the sensitive cords encasing his throat. He lay on the floor, engine screaming in defeat as he attempted to push the heavy form off of him.

Great, he was attempting to behead him and snuff out his spark.

He sent a frantic SOS to Breakdown (Megatron is trying to kill me!!) , seriously doubting that he’d make it back in time before his helm was removed from his frame. Thus, for good measure, he sent a distress signal to Soundwave.

In the meantime, Knockout debated small ways he could keep himself somewhat functioning before the cavalry arrived. He chanced a look at Megatron, hoping his pleading optics would jerk the Warlord back into the present.

Bad idea.

It was not Megatron, the Leader of the Decepticon cause who joined him. It was Megatronus, the Gladiator. Gone was the gleeful smirk he often adorned when killing his enemies. Instead, it was replaced with the cold, collected fury of a Gladiator in the pits of Kaon. The look Knockout had seen countless times before.

He panicked, kicking frantically beneath him as he felt a tension like no other in his neck cables. He would have screamed if he were able. Megatron, in his daze, pushed down harder, nearly immobilizing Knockout. The doctor’s own optics fluttered, the pain near numbing. He would not be offlined like this. He couldn’t be. Couldn’t let Breakdown find him dead underneath Megatron. He’d never forgive himself for being too slow.

Knockout may not be a fighter, nor particularly armed, but he was fast. Incredibly fast. And had movable wheels all over his body.

With the last bit of willpower he had, he activated his T-Cog. In a flash, his wheels maneuvered uncomfortably, to his arms. Without further hesitation, he brought them to the side of the larger mech’s face, turning them on immediately. They searched against the metal, leaving tire marks on the side of his face. As predicted, Megatron roared, bringing his servos to his face.

It gave Knockout all the time he needed to dislodge himself from beneath him, finding his pedes and darting towards the door. Only he didn’t make it far. The medical berth came hurling forward, Knockout ducking just in time as it slammed into the door. He came to a screeching halt, realizing with sudden horror that he was trapped.

And Megatron was furious. The kind of fury that warranted little flair or his usual growling. Just the cold, suffocating darkness in his optics. He looked at him like a hungry beast circling his prey.

“Now Megatron, it’s me. Knockout. You’re having some sort of flashback or disso–”

Suddenly, the canon was upon him. Bright, suffocating purple light. He could hear the loud whirl of the ammo firing up, the clicks and churns of the gears within his arm. Knockout crouched low. He may be trapped, but he’d run around the room in circles before he gave up. Maybe he could stun him, make it behind him fast enough so that he could tranquilize him.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud at the door behind him, several in fact. The metal dinged loudly as a large object beat against the door, paving way for a small opening. Followed by large, flat digits prying themselves through the small space created by the pounding. He recognized those servos, silver and hardened from their time working in the junkyards.

Knockout’s spark practically sang.

“Breakdown, hurry! I’m in here!” He shouted, turning his helm away momentarily, “Hurry–”

He heard the shot before he saw it. And he certainly felt it made contact with him. Hot and angry, a bolt of matter blasted towards him. He turned his helm back just in time to meet it face to face. With mere seconds to spare, the wheels on his pedes spun furiously, pushing him out of the way. Yet he was not completely spared. Like an obnoxious side swipe from a passing car, the blast had not been without damage.

He felt fire on the side of his helm, exploding into numbness as his own world began to darken.

#kobd #megatron #megatron tfp #knockout #transformers #my writing

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ninarossfunctionalmedicine · 3 days

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Intravenous (IV) therapy, known for its rapid and direct delivery of vital nutrients, has gained popularity as a holistic and effective method for promoting overall wellness. This bypasses the digestive system, ensuring near-complete absorption of nutrients compared to oral supplements.

#functional medicine atlanta #holistic medicine atlanta #atlanta #integrative medicine #nina ross functional medicine #holistic medicine #integrative medicine atlanta #functional medicine #functional medicine doctor #functional medicine doctor near me #IV Therapy Near Me #IV Therapy #How can IV Therapy Near Me Help?

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corewellnessfm · 11 days

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Exploring the Foundations of Functional Medicine: A Holistic Approach to Health and Wellness

Introduction:

Functional Medicine has gained considerable attention in recent years as an innovative and holistic approach to healthcare. Unlike conventional medicine, which often focuses on treating symptoms, Functional Medicine delves deeper into the root causes of health issues. This paradigm shift in healthcare emphasizes personalized, patient-centred care, aiming to restore balance and promote optimal well-being. Find one of the best Functional Medicine Doctors in Oakland CA.

Understanding Functional Medicine:

Full-fledged Perspective: Functional Medicine views the body as an interconnected system, recognizing the intricate relationships between various physiological functions. Rather than isolating symptoms, practitioners seek to understand the underlying imbalances that contribute to health issues.

Patient-Centred Care: Central to Functional Medicine is a personalized approach to patient care. Practitioners spend time understanding a patient's unique health history, genetics, lifestyle, and environment. This complete assessment allows for targeted interventions customized to individual needs.

Root Cause Analysis: Functional Medicine goes beyond merely managing symptoms; it aims to identify and address the root causes of diseases. By addressing these underlying factors, practitioners aim to support the body's natural healing processes and restore balance.

Biochemical Individuality: Each person is biochemically unique, and Functional Medicine recognizes and respects this diversity. Treatment plans are customized based on the individual's specific biochemistry, ensuring a more precise and effective approach to health management.

Principles of Functional Medicine:

Promotion of Health as a Positive Vitality: Rather than merely treating disease, Functional Medicine seeks to enhance overall well-being and vitality. This proactive approach involves optimizing nutrition, physical activity, and lifestyle to prevent illness and promote longevity. Functional Medicine Doctor Berkeley CA brings your vitality to your sight.

Integration of Multiple Therapeutic Modalities: Functional Medicine integrates a wide range of therapeutic approaches, including nutrition, exercise, stress management, supplements, and medications when necessary. This complete toolkit allows practitioners to address health issues from various angles.

Patient Empowerment: Empowering patients to take an active role in their health is a key principle of Functional Medicine. Education and collaboration between practitioners and patients are emphasized, creating a sense of responsibility and self-awareness in managing one's health. Functional Medicine Doctors in Oakland CA treats you fast.

Applications of Functional Medicine:

Disease Management: Functional Medicine is particularly effective in managing conditions such as autoimmune diseases, diabetes issues. By addressing underlying imbalances, it aims to improve long-term health outcomes.

Optimizing Mental Health: Mental health issues, including anxiety and depression, are approached completely in Functional Medicine. Lifestyle modifications, nutritional support, and stress management techniques are integral components of treatment plans.

Preventive Healthcare: Functional Medicine places a strong emphasis on preventive care, helping individuals identify and address risk factors before they conclude as symptoms or diseases.

Conclusion:

Functional Medicine represents a drastic shift in healthcare, emphasizing a personalized, holistic, and patient-centred approach. By focusing on root causes and promoting overall well-being, it offers a promising solution for individuals seeking to optimize their health and vitality. As the field continues to evolve, Functional Medicine holds the potential to reshape how we approach and experience healthcare in the future. Functional Medicine Berkeley CA treats you at the earliest.

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alazyparallelworld · 1 year

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battlestation bed

i ramble ★ frequenters and those who have read my extended about page may know that - i'm, bedbound - i eat, drink, play, and work in my bed. i live in my bed; my anatomy has bled into my bed.

this sounds... very edgy...! and tragic. but, this is, an 'informative' kind of post... i wouldn't talk abt it as oft as i do, if it brought me despair.

i don't mind questions, concerns, w/e about this - i don't plan to 'edit' this post whatsoever. this is to serve as a... 'quick reference' or summary.

content warning: detail of chronic pain, implications of neglect, severe health problems.

if you'd like to skip over the explanation, of the Why am i bedbound, start at: bc. Every Step. is Agony. i... LIVE IN BED...!! WE ARE HERE NOW.

so--! my physical ailment is, you know. Chronic Pain. i have an underdevelopment disorder both physically n mentally... as a result, some bones in both of my knees, 'grind' together. i've lost a moderate amount of cartilage in my left leg, and less so in my right.

there is no 'fixing' nor 'preventing' my problem. eventually, my right leg will catch up to my left. my medication deals to lessen the symptoms, as physical therapy, medications, injections, surgery, have been ineffective. furthermore, i have the slightest flat feet - which, ah, doesn't help matters.

walking brings me pain. throughout my life, i have had these... Pangs, burning sensations. my childhood was very anti-medicine; i never saw the doctor, for a Regular Checkup, until i was 21. until i was - 19 - i believed this agony was... normal!

the reveal came as, a nonquestion to my friends. in context of sleep. "well, you know, your body tells you when you're tired... when your legs flare up and even standing hurts, it's, 'time for bed,' you know?"

their reaction was unexpected. because, for me, that 'time for bed' pain was daily.

i had no reason to suspect this was abnormal. and i enjoyed - very, very much so - running, i loved the feeling of it. i ran every day, for hours on end. and this... obsession, is what kept my legs from fully atrophying. i saved myself thru such rigorous exercise, while in a double-edged sword way, making them worsen earlier, as i was busying the bones that grind against themselves.

upon intake, examinations... in gentle words, i was told, "expect to never run again." and - i was 21. i knew then my pain was bad, but the emotional pain of... Giving Up, my primary coping mechanism, was worse. even typing this near brings me to tears, ah. anyways...!

i began, an antiflam, and then a knee brace, and then physical therapy... and then injections... then Creams... further physical therapy... strengthened pain medication. a Surgery. Water and regular physical therapy. to this day, the only thing that brings me 'relief,' is thru numbness via marji.

my insurance won't approve of - a replacement - per my age. even then, the likelihood of success is low. it's estimated that sometime in my 30s, i'll be dependent on a wheelchair.

bc. Every Step. is Agony. i... LIVE IN BED...!! WE ARE HERE NOW.

i live alone, with no friends or family to speak of. as i have no support system, am unemployable, and have state insurance - i have a medical caregiver. she is here 5 days out of the week, and approved for nearly 100 hours of the month...

she is the one who takes care of my - food and water. most of my meals are either prepped, needing only reheating or hands-off frying and such, or cooked for me the day of.

my activities of daily living (ADLs) are helped by her - food making, housework, hygiene, medications, and the like. she is my transport to necessary in-person appointments - and, well, keeps me from going mad due to my total isolation otherwise.

but! she is not live-in, and there are days of - incidents! she can't come...! so-and-so emergency, or mix-up, and the like. i am VERY dependent on my caregiver, but not totally... so, how do i function, alone?!

food and water - aforementioned, most of my meals are prepped. otherwise, i do 'low effort,' things like microwavable meals... and, you know, the odd delivery. >>;; re water (soda, lol), i have beside table, where there's a mini fridge. i make sure to keep a good stock of it in both of my fridges. n there is a bedside trashcan, where i dispose of any waste.

hygiene - ...i am not the best at this... i have to be helped into showering, specifically. i have a shower chair, as i cannot stand under such water pressure. i've considered dry shampoo for my hair, and i give myself the occasional wet-wipe bath. better than nothing, after all.

i have spare clothing - my robe, extra pants, etc always in my bed so in hot/cold flashes, i can redress easily.

a tv tray is slipped between my bed and the wall, which i have an organizer on - inside, it holds my medicine, glasses, wet wipes, etc.

locomotion - for when i have NO CHOICE, but to walk, i keep it scheduled. feeding the cats is conjoined with, 'food time,' or, bathroom trip. i also have a roller chair nearby - so, when necessary.. whhheee...! my apartment is small, w/ wooden floors, so i can foot-drag my way around. I Don't Like Doing This.

when outside, i am supported by my knee brace. it lessens the pain in the moment, but only enough to function for short-term and infrequent outsides. for grocery store trips, i tend to use mobility scooters... smth i, again, Dislike. i am considering inquiring about a power scooter, post my next procedure, so i can go outside more regularly. in my particular case, a cane would not be of much help and would cause further dependency on my right leg.

pet care - Water fountain! re: food, as aforementioned, i make it a 'two birds, one stone,' affair... and play - they have e/o, and Believe Me that they make their own fun - but automatic toys, too. nozomi-tan (alias) has been taught to bring toys into bed, so i can play with him there. hikaru (also alias) has learned to turn on the automatic toys by herself... many times, i am awoken, to the sound of it buzzing. Smart girl.

furthermore.. it's more that nozomi-tan takes care of ME... he is insistent, knowing of when tot ell me. Wake up - time to get up - so I don't depress in bed forever. My bathroom anxiety, he follows me there... and the like. this was his purpose.... soiled by, mm, someone else treating him more like a pet. But he is still very good at grounding me in bouts of depression, PTSD, and the like.

i believe that is most of the. 'how do you live/function?' questions...?

now. For optimization. two years ago, i was in good fortune enough to buy a relatively good Gaming Laptop, and have upgraded its RAM and storage since. thanks to public assistance, i can afford wifi... so, i, have internet. This is my base entertainment.

...as i, dont leave the house sans medical appointments, i am... Always online. Keyboard warrior. anyways -

i watch things, game, read things, write things, so on and so forth. I have consoles, but they need setup - as i stream/record things - so I game largely from here... bc of my hands, i use a controller so they do not. Claw Up. i have usb 2 and usb c cords running to my bed (as of today, w/ help, they're now snaked to my bed from the extension cord behind it), which is how i charge.. phone, headphones, tablet, controller, etc.

right in front of my bed, there is a large slab of a desk. this is where my TV is! very few things in my apartment need batteries. but, i have those - fancy - rechargeable batteries... so no worries about, replacing batteries in the tv remotes and the like. BUT! my tv here is a smart tv...! so i control it from my phone.

the tv tray - stated earlier - has an organizer wherein it holds the very basics. my meds, pens, the remote for my lamp, etc. my mood light is sat right atop of it, and it's where i rest my headphones as they're too bulky to fit inside the organizer itself.

the lap desk is where, i guess, the magic happens... as i would be chugging my laptop against the bedsheets, otherwise. it means i don't pain my legs from its weight, and i only have to rest my external keyboard on myself...

so. this is how. I Live from my Bed.

#i ramble ★#bed tag

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jinxedshapeshifter · 8 months

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Alright. My dumb ass decided I am attached enough to Shaun Murphy from The Good Doctor that I am defensive if I see anyone shittalking The Good Doctor SO HERE WE ARE

Medium/high support needs, especially in the context of Shaun’s past, does NOT mean “no job, can’t live on my own”

I have reasons I don’t live on my own. In fact here they are:

I need structure, something I can’t really provide myself with on my own. I’m not getting it currently either but that’s not my point

I have time blindness and executive dysfunction issues, both of which prevent me from functioning like a regular human being

There are probably other issues but I can’t think of any lol

I don’t have a job because I know for a fact I’d need a job in something that interests me, something Shaun clearly did. In fact, it’s clear from the beginning that Shaun has a special interest in either the human body or surgery specifically, something his savant syndrome makes clear.

There are reasons Shaun lives on his own, and lots of medium/high needs autistic people live on their own and suffer from burnout and don’t know when that burnout is going to end, which results in messy houses and apartments similar to Shaun’s because they don’t know how to handle their burnout. So let’s go over a few things. By the way I’m not going into production, I don’t think I ever will, I just want to discuss the issues I have with how people decide to criticize Shaun’s character because I don’t think people are being fair, and I also feel like people aren’t acknowledging Shaun’s past.

Shaun was abused as a kid; he and his brother were homeless for a while and living out of a bus because of this and eventually Shaun’s brother died, which left Shaun without the support he’d had for however long he’d had his brother around. He’s probably used to being on his own; I doubt he’d want to change that very fast.

Shaun is implied to have a special interest in either medicine or surgery; his brother gives him a toy/plastic surgical kit (a toy scalpel from which he can be seen stimming with occasionally) and he’s seen reading medical books in flashbacks. When he loses his brother, this motivates him to pursue surgery as his career.

Even just in the first few episodes, the hospital staff are trying to teach Shaun effective communication; that’s what residency is for, learning. As a resident you’re still considered a student. It’s not even like Shaun can’t necessarily effectively communicate in the first place; he just needed to learn social cues and bedside manners so he knew how to properly discuss surgery and test results with patients without scaring them.

Meltdowns and shutdowns are involuntary, and from what I’ve seen, other characters in the show do pretty well accommodating Shaun’s meltdowns, whether he’s working or not.

He’s not living in total squalor. The reason he has the bare minimum is because he just moved, at least at the start. Outside of that, he’s probably used to having the bare minimum, and it might just be what he’s comfortable with. Aside from that, he literally makes subtle improvements to his apartment as the series goes on. When his apartment is first shown, he’s sleeping on the floor. Next episode he has a mattress. Apartment is probably a studio apartment, which would explain why the mattress is in the middle of the floor. He’s not living in a total fucking mess lmao. Even if he did, there are people who live like that because that’s what they’re used to.

The medical diagrams that people view as “dramatizing autism”? That’s a visual representation of Shaun’s savant syndrome. Shaun has near photographic memory, and without those visual effects we would have no way of knowing what’s going through his mind as he’s examining scans, organs, and everything else, which is something that is INCREDIBLY important for us to know. It’s not a dramatization of autism, it’s a visual representation of Shaun’s photographic memory lmao.

Yes, Shaun has higher support needs. Yes, Shaun has issues that might make it harder for him to do his job. That doesn’t mean he can’t live on his own and that doesn’t mean he can’t be a successful surgeon; hell, he made an improvised one-way valve and saved a 10 year old’s life. He improvised keeping a liver healthy so it could be successfully donated. He improvised removing a kidney so a tumor could be removed, saving a woman’s life, and that’s not even a fraction of everything. Any hospital would be lucky to have a surgeon like him.

Also. Freddie Highmore does incredibly well playing Shaun. I feel like he very clearly did research and very possibly talked to autistic people about their experiences. He accurately portrays stimming, he accurately portrays a lack of social awareness, he accurately portrays meltdowns, he does so incredibly well and I love him for it. Like. I genuinely don’t get why people keep bringing up projects he worked on in the past, he’s an actor. That’s his job lmao. Outside of that, he produces it. Just figured I’d point that out because I would think that factors into how he portrays Shaun.

Communities aren’t a monolith. I’m not saying you, as an autistic person, can’t not like The Good Doctor, but you also shouldn’t be invalidating other autistic people who enjoy it or even relate to Shaun. You shouldn’t be turning Shaun’s meltdown about being suspended from his role in his department into a meme because it’s ableist to do so (you’re literally making fun of an autistic person’s meltdown. Imo it’s no different than those parents who post their autistic kids’ meltdowns online for laughs). You shouldn’t be claiming that individuals with higher support needs can’t live independently without living in squalor, because Shaun doesn’t live in squalor and most autistic people who live in squalor are suffering from autistic burnout because they were forced to mask for years because of shit like what I’m complaining about.

I shouldn’t feel like shit for liking The Good Doctor, just because some people in the community think it’s bad representation. I feel represented by it; I feel seen by it. I binged the first few episodes with my brother the other night and was smiling the entire time because for the first time in my life, I found a character who I could fully relate to. I saw myself in a TV show character. I saw a character whose behavior and mannerisms I could look at, and say “Hey, I do that!” or “that’s a whole mood lmao!” Yet I feel bad for enjoying it because so many people in the autistic community think it’s bad.

I’m getting tired of it honestly. You can enjoy what you want and voice your concerns on what you don’t like, but you shouldn’t be acting like your voice is the voice of the entire community and you shouldn’t be so opinionated and aggressive that members of your own community feel demonized for liking something you don’t like.

Liking something that has negative aspects to it, or is harmful, or something else, does not make you a bad person. I can relate to Shaun’s mannerisms and that draws me to The Good Doctor. There’s an episode (okay multiple episodes but I am thinking of a specific episode here) of House, MD that’s just medical malpractice, and I think we all know that if House did not exist in a medical drama he’d be getting slammed with malpractice lawsuits but nobody gets harassed to hell about enjoying House.

Yet so many autistic people are like “The Good Doctor is bad and if you like it you’re bad” and like??? It just makes me feel like shit???? Can I just watch my autistic doctor medical drama in peace without feeling alienated by my own community please

#the good doctor #actually autistic #autism discourse #tw ableism #YES I AM AWARE OF THE TRANSPHOBIA SHIT. yeah that one’s dumb lmao

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accesshealthcarephysicians · 2 years

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agimamedical · 1 year

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