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#going into surgery in 20 mins

youkaiyume · 9 months

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Hello, it's been a while since I did a rant. But WARNING for gross medical things:

SO it turns out my old nemesis the ovarian cysts have plagued me again. I found out about three weeks ago when a weird pain wouldn't leave my pelvis and went to urgent care and they suggested a CT scan. ONLY! for my insurance to deny me cuz they think I needed more probable cause for one so my doctor just recommended I go to the ER (which ironically is way more expensive for insurance to pay for than a simple CT scan but they did it to themselves lol).

Turns out I have cysts on BOTH of my ovaries FUN. But the left one is very concerningly big and probably needs to be removed but I can only do so by getting an approval of an OBGYN. So after finding one and waiting for my blood tests to come back so she can determine if she can surgically remove it--

YESTERDAY I had a SUDDEN AND SEVERE pain that hit me. I was at a solid 10 on that pain scale and vomiting and sweating so I drove myself to the ER again for the second time in two weeks. Frustratingly, the MALE doctor came back and was just like "well it looks like while we were doing your ultrasound you weren't consistently experiencing pain" which I was ready to bite his head off because let me tell you. While I was laying stretched out letting them do the ultrasound I was in the worst pain the ENTIRE time. And it was not a short ultrasound. It lasted over 20 mins and even after they asked me if I could survive sitting through the vaginal ultrasound after which would be another 25 mins. And those are painful just for the stick poking around in your yoohoo alone. I begged for pain relievers and when I described it they were like "oh that's labor level pains"

SO Mr. I don't have a Uterus doctor, DON'T TELL ME that your machine says I wasn't in pain. He even hit me with a "well I don't know what your pain tolerance is" as if to minimize or make me feel like I was overblowing what I was feeling. Like, fuck that guy. But because technically the imaging showed that the cysts haven't ruptured or caused my ovaries to twist it was considered "non emergent" and so the just gave me painkillers and then sent me home and reiterated that the only way I could get it removed at this point was to beg my OBGYN and convince her it was an emergency. In the meantime it was "oh you'll have to live with LABOR LIKE PAINS 24/7 until they let you have surgery." In the meantime they said I should only return to the ER after I've took all my pain meds and my pain doesn't improve OR if something worse happens. like a rupture.

WHICH btw are the exact same symptoms I have today so I was like how will I know cuz I can't imagine a worse pain than this one to which they were like "shrug"

I was in tears. Oh but it gets EVEN BETTER. Called my OBGYN this morning and she said my blood tests came back and that unfortunately they detected higher than usual levels of cancer markers in the cyst so that means she can't surgically remove them for me, she has to foist me to an Oncologist so THEY can remove it. She tries to say it doesn't necessarily MEAN cancer but hnnnnnggg that does not help with my anxiety at the moment.

Now calling the Oncologist to make an appointment today was a whole ordeal itself cuz their system kept going to voicemail so I had to call all the departments until they finally let me through but I had to run back to the hospital to try to get my Ultrasound discs for them. But even then they were like "your appointment isn't until next Wednesday" because THATS when the doctor meanders into work. So I'm like OH so like, in the meantime what if something happens??? And they're like well you gotta call back your OBGYN to see if you have other options. Which turns out she is also out. Until Tuesday. So I'm like. Guess I'll die then!

I don't even want kids!!! These ovaries have caused me nothing but trouble!!! Please rip them from my body!!

#And you know when you have nothing to do but curl up and google ovarian cancer #AND it tells you that the longest living patients on average live up to five years #it does make you spiral a bit #I feel like these entire two weeks the entire medical system won't believe me when I say it's an emergency #you sit here with this pain then #you do it #text post #rant #gross medical things

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spacelazarwolf · 4 months

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Hi, chag sameach!

I have a question about vocal changes on T from a friend who's not on this webbed site, if thats ok?

They're at a point where there's an octave or so in which their voice just won't make noise, and its emotionally distressing that they can't sing. Do you know if this a normal stage that will pass? Is there anything to do about it? And do you have any idea if its related to T dosage re how long it might last for?

Vocal coach isnt a option and they are going to ask their dr. I thought that you're someone who might know more specifically about the vocal aspect, so I offered to ask.

Hope all is well with you, and thank you.

there’s not really any sort of set timeline, even depending on dosage, because everyone’s body reacts differently to testosterone, so just a disclaimer that i can’t really give a definitive answer bc there’s not one.

in my own personal experience, there was a period of time where my range shrank. i went from having a usable range of F3-D6 to about E3-E4, which was obviously pretty unnerving. but after a few weeks my voice started to drop more, and as i gained range in my lower register my higher register started to come back. i can still only sing comfortably up to about an E5, but i was happy to sacrifice the upper octave to get a lower voice. right now my usable range is about C3-A4 but on a good day i can vocalize from about F#2-E5.

basically, the name of the game is patience. there’s some vocal exercises they can do to keep their voice in shape while it’s changing, but it’s kind of like the process of healing from top surgery. you can do physical therapy to make sure your muscles and tendons heal correctly, but until they’re fully healed you won’t be able to use them to their full capacity.

so i highly recommend doing about 15-20 mins of gentle singing every day. start with some warm ups, like humming or lip trills just to get the blood flowing to the vocal folds to avoid strain or injury, then some exercises that encourage vocal fold adduction (which is when the vocal folds come together) — some that i like are simple so(5) mi(3) do(1) exercises on ha, ho, or ga — and then just lightly sing a couple of your favorite songs. some discomfort is normal, but pain is not so if you do feel higher levels of discomfort that border on pain or just straight up pain, stop and rest until tomorrow.

#ask avishai #t voice

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medicon · 1 year

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Can we have some headcanons of coming out as a trans guy to the bots and Cons? Thx in advance!

i just chose a few of my favorites, since i usually don't write for the whole cast in one post :]

coming out as trans to the bots & cons!

optimus

definitely a bit confused, but very supportive once you explain it to him!

he'll be asking sooo many questions to help him grasp how you feel and how he can help you

adjusting pronouns might take a bit of time for him, but he tries his best ^^ feels awful if he realizes he misgendered you, and would be one of those people that spends 20 mins apologizing for it

you eventually had to lecture him about how you weren't going to rip his head off for an honest mistake

he's very accepting of you regardless of your identity :]

bumblebee

HE'S SO PUMPED FOR YOU

honored that you would feel comfortable enough to open up to him about something so important, and he tries his best to be with you every step along the way

WILL FIGHT ANYONE WHO MISGENDERS YOU

he's like your personal cheerleader- he's always there to remind you that you're perfect and epic and valid in every way, and that he's really proud of you

he tries his best to research ways he can help you transition, and although sometimes it doesn't work out how he planned, it's still very sweet

knockout

has literally no problem with it whatsoever, he's actually super excited for you!!

will be more than happy to help you transition in any way possible. whether it be haircuts, surgery, new clothes, or anything else, he's very encouraging and will do his best to make sure you feel as little dysphoria as possible

very mindful of pronouns and gendered terms- he might slip up once or twice but always apologizes and rephrases his sentence right away

just like ugrhrfhsfrghr supportive gay robot person, he's the best ever i love him

megatron

he's... megatron. that's both good and bad :')

many cybertronians would be considered intersex, so he doesn't really understand the dysphoria of wanting something you weren't born with

he might say a few kind of rude things at the beginning, but once he realizes how happy you are being referred to w your preferred name/pronouns, he begins to warm up to the idea

he would be the quiet supporter; not really bringing it up w you, but still gathering research on his own of how to make you more comfortable

in the end, he's hard on the outside and soft on the inside, and that works out just fine ^^

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yugi-nope · 7 months

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As a pregnant man, here are somethings I have noticed that are weird

(Context, I was on T for five years and came off, I’ve been trying for a year and a half, I mentally prepped, this was not surprise news and I’m officially 12 weeks in)

.F A T I G U E

.Smell? No like. Gross. Food shop? I wanna Kermit.

.Morning sickness BAD. Although, actual hack, plain biscuit every 20/30 mins. If stomach no empty, nausea get better???

.Ginger and lemon only work for lucky people. I am not lucky.

.Lost weight. Why? Was opposite of goal.

.Tiny pouch! Yes gimme bump I earnt bump!

.Can feel the stretch in my back and stomach area. Not painful but w e i r d.

.Top surgery scars feel funky. Tender.

.Sex drive similar to starting T. Nausea will curb your enthusiasm.

.Boundaries go boom! You will obey or I will set you on fire.

.Me, ask for help? Apparently when you don’t have a choice it gets easy (still working on not apologising all the time)

.I kinda missed crying at everything. It’s kinda nostalgic.

#transgender #trans man #trans ftm #seahorse dad #male pregnancy

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maykitz · 7 months

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please recommend some asmr channels 🙏

ok i'm going to assume you're familiar with the big names like goodnight moon (big favourite), latte, tingting and ppomo. if not...get the hell on youtube.

i almost exclusively listen to female voiced roleplays so that's going to be really obvious here.

one of my favourite channels i've ever found is moonlight cottage asmr. her voice is beautiful, intelligent and a little bit more mature and the french accent just hits. her historical videos are compelling, you can tell they're passion projects and she is quite an actress.

another definite recommend is ALB in whisperland. she has a gentle voice, her soft speaking is so good, and she has a lot of videos where she delicately does things with her beautiful hands, which i like a lot.

some more in no particular order:

-aen ani asmr. i feel like she's so underrated. she mainly does fantasy roleplays in costumes and the channel is still a bit small so you have a good chance of getting a reply or your request being included in a video. it's not like, insanely polished and high production value but i like it.

-asmr mood. speaks russian but many are subtitled in english. oftentimes has fanservice and is one of the few asmrtists (on my list, maybe even in general) who usually presumes the viewer as male. i don't care about it but it means there's no makeup videos (which i find boring). and as i've said before, when the russian language k and t sounds come out in asmr i... no, i shan't say.

-amy kay asmr. pretty much exclusively roleplays and usually has interesting concepts (ie not the 5 millionth makeup and cranial nerve exam). confident and charismatic and is a bit more peppy in the way she speaks rather than the, like, pure bedtime voices.

-eunzel asmr. korean with english subs + english spoken videos. roleplays, also weird and odd triggers. i've rewatched both of her "doctor asking you insanely personal questions" videos many times.

-bluewhisper. first asmr video i ever watched was her (sadly quickly deleted) "rescuing harambe" video which got screenshotted and i think gave her a lot of negative attention because her sense of humour is playing it completely straight and people are obsessed with being smarter than the person being ironic. she does simple roleplays, vlogs, flips through the new burpee seed catalog once a year for her garden and opens pokemon cards.

-seafoam kitten asmr. if you remember the "adorable organ harvester uwu asmr" screenshot going around, that's her. she does weird, cringe-humour roleplays. she also has a slightly risque one where you get indoctrinated into being a "love pet" puppy which i think would do numbers on here.

-myaling asmr. english with korean accent. mostly long roleplays, very sweet voice and puts great effort into having a lot of props, background detail etc. often has cinematic intros which i love. her "aesthetic school outfit styling" has probably my favourite intro scene i've ever seen in asmr.

-callie blossom asmr. she's strikingly beautiful and has a "girl who's secretly obsessed with you" series that is very popular with lesbians for good reason.

-maya winky asmr. silly, fast paced humour asmr. i feel bad not saying more but like just look at her channel lol

-mid mod meridian asmr. american accent. older lady who does 50s, 60s and 70s themed roleplays. not to be like aww sweet grandma but. yeah.

-ella asmr. korean with english subs. a lot of scifi themed videos with special effects, surgery on you and mechanical equipment sounds.

-whispering willow asmr. nice, simple, basic roleplays, usually in the 20-30 min range. i like when videos aren't too long because i usually clock out after 5 minutes anyway.

-african xhosa asmr. criminally underrated. she speaks and has a few videos teaching phrases in xhosa, a south african language with clicks that i've never even heard before. also talks about history and culture often.

-90sfairyasmr. relatively new channel with not too many videos, she mostly flips through y2k/1990s teen magazines so far.

-asmr emiko ffujio. no talking, but has cool slimes and fake cooking.

-gentle whispering asmr. a very big channel, russian accented. i like her voice and soft speaking a lot but her topics tend to bore me a bit. it's generally beauty focused.

-triniti j asmr. american accent. i havent watched a lot of hers because they're usually beauty focused, but for example in the "best friend picks out your smell goods" she gets really close to the mic and chews gum which creates a speaking sound i like a lot. idk how to describe it lol

-pelagea asmr. doesn't upload on youtube anymore but a lot of backlog. mostly more or less fanservicey videos that get a bit unintentionally silly and too much sometimes. i mainly recommend her "100 ways to kiss" video with the lesbian bait thumbnail that got her 13 million views.

now feel free to recommend ME some i don't know yet.

#answered

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chronic-zero · 4 months

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Top Surgery Commissions

hello!! i'm a 21 year old transmasc trying to save up for top surgery within the next few months! any support would be greatly appreciated, even just reblogs. programs i use are Clip Studio Paint and ProCreate

Payment forms accepted:

Paypal - @chr0niczer0

Venmo - @Chronic-Zero

Cashapp - @chr0nicZer0

* Prices are non negotiable.

* Backgrounds affect pricing, but price will never exceed the maximum amount.

* Please have a general idea of what you want me to draw, or describe the personality or feeling of the character! :)

* DM for further questions or to discuss commissions!

Bust

sketch - $15

colored - $20

shaded - $25

Half

sketch - $30

colored - $35

shaded - $45

Full

sketch - $55

colored - $65

shaded - $75

Doodle page

(includes at least 4 sketch-style drawings of your characters. poses created by me, at least one fullbody.)

sketch - $50

colored - $100

shaded - $150

Fully Rendered

(includes semi-complex backgrounds)

bust - $100

half - $150

full - $200

Comic Page [2000x2300]

sketch - $250

colored - $300

shaded - $350

Backgrounds

simple - $15

(shapes, brush strokes, textures)

sketched - $50

(a room or landscape/cityscape)

add value +$25

add color +$25

semi-complex - $150

(not fully rendered sketch backgrounds. line-art, value & color included. overall more clean looking.)

complex - $200

(fully rendered backgrounds)

animations

* For Animations, I will accept half of the final price up front and the second half upon completion of the storyboard.

* The project may take many months to finish. If there is no substancial progress within a year, you may request a refund.

* Substancial Progress may be qualified as:

* Finished Storyboard

* Finished Lineart

* Finished Coloring

* Finished Shading

* Math will be used to determine your final price, it will be gone over with you.

* I regularly change my frame rate depending on the type of animation im creating. My prices will be based around this, as well as length & complexity of the project. Animation is hard work & takes time, please do not argue with pricing.

* All time caps are defaulted to 1 min (unless it repeats) if it goes over this, the price of either FPS or Tweening will go up x2 for every 30 seconds.

* Example:

* Past 1 minute, an 8FPS animation would go from $5 per frame to $10 per frame.

* Another 30 seconds would make it go from $10 per frame to $20 per frame.

* If possible, provide your own audio. If not, please give time stamps for the audio/song you've requested.

* I do not edit audio to include extra lines such as voice lines or mixed audios.

GIFs

* Follows the same general guideline for still drawings, but combined with regular frame prices.

* All GIFs are animated at 8FPS, can range from 1-5 seconds

* All GIFs are inherently lined & colored. Shading is extra.

Bust - $15 per frame

(Shaded - $20)

Half - $30 per frame

(Shaded - $40)

Fullbody - $60 per frame

(Shaded - $80)

* GIFs may have 1 background*

* (*See background prices)

Animatic

* Sketch

* Characters will not be 100% sketched out in every frame. Please do not expect this.

* Animated at 8fps (frame by frame)

* Priced per 30 seconds - $50

* Light tweening may be requested

* Script Required

* add ons;

+ Backgrounds (see prices above.)

* You may decide how many backgrounds there are within the final piece.

+ Shading - $25

Memes

* Animated at either 12fps (Frame by Frame) or 60fps (Tweening)

* (FPS) Priced Per 30 seconds ($75)

* (Tweening) Priced Per 30 seconds ($50)

+ Shading - $10

* Memes must have repetitive action, if they do not then they qualify as an AMV

* Meme format may be changed, but you must give me a script, or a general idea of what you want me to create. If possible, give visual examples.

* Script Required

AMVs

* A combination of regular & FPS prices

* Example:

* A full bodied & colored piece would be $75

* This would be divided by minute due to the high pricing

* So something 12FPS with 12 frames, would be $900 Per Minute

* Divided by half would be $450 Per 30 Seconds

* Something 8FPS would be $600 Per Minute, cut in half would be $300

* Frame Rate x 75 = Final Price

* Includes:

* Line work

* Coloring

* Shading

* Backgrounds

* It is meant to be expensive.

* Script Required

PMVs

* A combination of regular & Tweening prices.

* Priced by Second instead of by Frame.

* Example:

* Tweening is $50 Per 30 seconds

* A fully colored & shaded drawing would be $75

* This would make every 30 seconds, $125

* (Tweening/Editing price included)

* Script Required

examples

art instagram - https://www.instagram.com/chronic.zero?igsh=OG81dDh1Nm5iZjdt&utm_source=qr

youtube - https://youtube.com/@chr0niczer056?feature=shared

#my art #digital art #top surgery #top surgery commissions #transgender #transmasc #transitioning #lgbtpride #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #lgbtq community #csp #clip studio paint #procreate

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fleetingofthegretas · 9 months

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Nose surgery + snuggles : Jake Kiszka Fluff.

This was inspired by a thread I had seen on here, it was posted by an Anonymous user but shout out to you fr. Also the title?? LMFAO I did not know what to put. Btw I made a twitter finally. If you want to follow me there my user is Swaggywaggy_gvf . Btw this is short asf :D

You were on your way to the hospital to get Jake's deviated septum Fixed. He was driving with one hand on your thigh, the other tapping to the music against the steering wheel.

"Jake?"

"hmm?"

"Are you nervous?"

"Not really. It is a quick surgery so I think I will be fine. Just am worried about the recovery, ya know?"

"Yeah I know baby."

You pull into the hospital parking lot before coming to a stop.

"Welcome to hell" You joke. He glares at you before getting out of the car, opening your door before helping you out.

"See you in an hour and a half" You say to him as you pull him into you, kissing him as hard as you can.

"Woah, Y/N. Be careful, I don't think I can take you in this car and be on time for my surgery" He giggles while adjusting himself in his pants.

"Good luck, rockstar" you say as you get into the car before driving away, leaving your boyfriend to be cut open.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------While Jake is in surgery you take a hot girl trip to target, ordering a chai latte from Starbucks as well. You came here with a list of food to get him, as well as wanting to get him some medicine and a new blanket to make him more comfy while he recovers. You wander to the bedding section, deciding on a dark blue blanket with anchors and pirate ships on it. The blanket was definitely made for a little boy, but you figured that your boyfriend would like it just as much, maybe even more. You glance at the time, realizing you were 20 mins late to pick him up. Damn Target always distracts the hell out of you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------You walk into the waiting room, saying you're there to pick up Jake. A second later, a nurse wheels him out on a wheelchair, still high off anesthesia. The nurses help you load him into the car, as you shut the door and get into the drivers seat.

"I thought you were never coming back"

"Aw Jakey, I would never forget about you baby. I just let the time get the best of me. I got you a few things from target" You say, reaching behind you to grab the pirate blanket. You toss it at him, his eyes lighting up with happiness. All he does is rub the blanket up against his face, making you giggle.

"Captain Jake my dear, we are home"

"Finally. I want to go lay in bed"

"Okay honey, we can"

"We? You'll come with?"

"of course I will, you're hurting and I wanna make sure you're alright"

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

You wake up, finding that you had fallen asleep while watching pirates of the Caribbean with Jake. Your arm was on top of him, and his arm around you. There was only one blanket over you, the one you had just got him. You put it together that he probably watched you fall asleep and decided to tuck you in, leaving himself exposed to the air. You get up, throwing the blanket over his sleeping body as you make your way to the kitchen, heating up some soup for him.

A few mins later you make your way back into the bedroom to find him awake, waiting for you. You set the bowl of soup in his lap and tell him to be careful since its hot.

"Can I have a kiss?"

"No baby, you know you can't."

"Oh so you hate me?"

"If I hated you would I be taking care of you?"

He stares at you with his big brown puppy eyes

"No, Jake. You can't move your mouth" You brush his hair back lightly as you kiss him on the forehead.

He sighs deeply and starts to drink the soup out of the bowl.

"Thank you, Y/N. I love you"

"I love you too, Captain Jake"

#gvf #gretavanfleet #greta van fleet #jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fic #fluff #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #oneshot

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thislovintime · 11 months

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Photos by Henry Diltz, Richard E. Aaron, © LIFE/Shutterstock, and Nurit Wilde. (Photos 4 & 5 are from the “Heart and Soul” video shoot.)

For Father’s Day. Thoughts go out to Peter’s kids.

“I was never inherently afraid of my situation. When I found myself in a boardinghouse with my daughter in a room for twenty-five dollars a month, sleeping on a mat on the floor, I was not discouraged. I had already made my connection with my source.” - Peter Tork, When The Music Mattered (1984)

“[Hallie and Ivan] go to an alternative school locally. We [Peter and Barbara Iannoli] decided on it because it’s a place where if the kids wanted to do something they can insist on it. My kids have whale watching classes where they rent a boat and go and watch whales. I have never seen it, but they tell me it is a transcendental experience.” - Peter Tork, Evening Standard, July 26, 1983

Rosie O’Donnell: “You think you’re a good dad or do you…?” Peter: “No, actually, I’m not a very good, no, not as a good as I want to be. But then, I don’t know any dad who is, so...” Rosie: “That’s true, that’s true. I’m sure you do very well.” - VH1, late 1988

“Tork’s children don’t think of his celebrity one way or another, he said, although they wish their father had a more private life. ‘They take the bitter with the sweet,’ he said adding that he’s just Dad ‘in large measures.’ His 26-year-old daughter is pursuing a teaching degree. His 20-year-old son is a drummer in a reggae band . ‘I am so impressed with him that way,’ Tork said, pride evident. ‘I wish he’d put his back to it more; he’d get more out of it, but you can’t tell someone something like that. They learn from what you do, not what you say.’” - Intelligencer Journal, July 19, 1996

Peter Tork: “David [Crosby] let me stay there for most of a year. It was sort of by way of interest on the loan I gave him to buy his boat, and I stayed there with my, with my then-girlfriend, and our daughter was born in that house.” Q: “In the house?” PT: “In the house, yeah, live, at-home birth —” Q: “On purpose or you just…?” PT: “That’s right, at-home birth, yeah, that was what we wanted.” Q: “(to Peter) [The second radio host is] expecting a baby. His wife.” PT: “Yeah? Cool! Oh, man. Oh, yeah? Excited, aren’t you? His eyes just brightened up, it’s great.” - GOLD 104.5, 1999

Q: “You have good relationships with your kids?”  Peter Tork: “Yes, I do.” Q: “Oh, cool.” PT: “Very good. [...] [O]f my two daughters, the adult daughter says that she has a better relationship with me than any of her friends have with their fathers. It’s a good thing for us, and I hope that the others aren’t catastrophic. Because otherwise, it means (laughs), otherwise it’s small praise. But, you know, yeah, we’re doing fine, it’s wonderful.” - WDBB, February 2006

“[After his first cancer surgery, says Peter] ‘I couldn’t chew anything for a month. I was drinking my dinner — lots of milkshakes.’ It also took time for Peter to fully get back the power of speech. ‘For months, I was speaking with a lisp,’ he says. ‘It was a matter of me learning how to get my tongue under control again. I did my vocal exercises and the doctors decided I didn’t need speech therapy. It was a tough time but my daughter, Hallie, was a real support to me.’” - Daily Mail, August 16, 2011

From about the 8:36 min. mark, Peter speaks about Hallie and Ivan (who was in the audience) in this portion of The Monkees on People Are Talking in 1989; also featuring a tour anecdote about Ivan from Davy.

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sir-arlieosaurus-lung-struggler · 4 months

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the holidays are always really fucking weird, i dont like many of them but specifically December is just- ew

Anyway ill just thro my mini pitty party real quick:

These song explains how I feel about christmas time *perfectly*

Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas by mother mother (christmas playlist)

From heres basically a trauma dump about being in the hospital, but i typically talk about this in a tone more like "oh yea! i nearly died lmao"

When i was like, just turning 6 I had 💫pneumonia💫 & needed to go to the 💫hospital💫. So I spent like, 12/11-31/15 in the hospital. along the way i had these treats happen (not really in order, 💜=story from family member, ❤=i actually remember this)

💜being diagnosed by my sisters 16 yo boyfriend by looking at my gums, whereas medical staff took 4 days

❤Some mcdonalds, cool auntys banana bread, jello & making popin cookin sets w/ my older sister

💜a 5 day medically induced coma

lung surgery therefor cool fuckin scars on my back (WHICH I CANT FUCKING SHOW ANYONE CAUSE I WAS CURSED W/ TITS AND 2/3 ARE UNDER MY BRA)

💜waking up from said coma periodically only to say "im scared" w/ my mom trying to comfort me but i had ear shit going on

💜Finnaly actually woke up, yelled "IM DEAD", which is reportadly the scariest shit my dad has ever heard, my mom asks if i hurt, i say yes, she like "ur not dead honey" again i was 6 & in & out of a coma 😂 (idk why but I've always found that story funny)

💜my parents being thretened w/ truancy by my dumbass school

❤Christmas, I had *2* mini christmas trees in my hospital room 💅 1 was cool but my cool uncle & aunty got me a pink 1 which I still have to this day as a lamp

💜only trusting 1 of my doctors cause he looked like my grandfather who'd been deceased for 2years at that point

❤💜going on walks around the kids floor in a wheelchair & stealing a little gingerbread beanie baby ornament but they didnt care so they just let me keep it & i still have it somehwere.

💜my mom met a lady who had a son who was a few months old & they didnt expect to live past a couple weeks but he *did* (more on that later)

💜had food in the cafeteria and i proceeded to rub the pizza i got *into my hair*. My response? "Its just cheese" my family and I quote that to this day lmao.

💜being reverted to a toddler for a good minute (someone asked my age i said i was 3, i was not) & needing to relearn walking, talking, the little bit of reading i knew & getting into a shower w/out being scared of being pulled down the drain

❤said dude who asked my age worked at the hospital cafeteria & we visited him after most of my appointments. miss u uncle (that was what he went by), wish u well. Dont know where he since covid cause the part of the building cafeteria was in was torn down.

❤and after all that later and i got releaced on new years eve :>

results:

From there forward i had a 20-30minute nebulizer to do every 4 hours (which my parents had to wake up at like 2am for a half hour for), 2 twice daily inhailers, 2 nasil sprays, "the tire" (tastes like shit and makes me feel anxious) (that isnt even all of it my mom counted 8 meds at one point) and i slowly dropped them year by year till they had me down to just rescue inhailer as needed & if my lungs r really shit for a min i go on the tire. (Tire=prednisolone but what 6 year old is remembering that name lol)

specialist appointments every week, then 2 weeks, then every month, 3 months, 6 months, now im at checkup every year and check in as needed

"Look whos inside again" by bo burnham is my life in a nutshell

To this day the smell of a consentrated area of hand sanatizer just has me stop in my tracks lol.

seeing a picture of tiny me on my parents facebook feed yearly of me unconscious in a hospital bed w/ tubes in mah face

couple of close friend i met post hospital (keep in mind i was like 7) didn't believe me so i ran around the playground cursing them the fuck out (never did get in trouble for that 😂) ((I still talk to 1 of them shes cool))

Idk where to put this but about that kid I was talking about before, I found out last year around this time he had just died- of 💫pneumonia💫. yea that fucked me up for a good minute, he was around 6 too which didn't help, I never even met the kid and I still had a weird form of survivors guilt.

Anyway have a merry fucking christmas i really dont get this holiday lol, treat yourself kindly, feel free to be the grinch you are and explain in detail why u hate the holidays u arent alone lol

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cerysdelaney · 3 months

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Hello 🙂 Just wanted to say hi and check in. Hope you've been well lately ❤️

Honestly? I’m currently trying to do 36 hours of work in 24. My husband had hernia surgery (and we didn’t have insurance) so it took out all our savings.

- But I’m not complaining. I feel fortunate that I had the money. Now I just have to work twice as much to rebuild that savings.

AND I’m doing it in a sustainable way. 💜 We may not rebuild as fast, but I’m still allowing myself to get a massage every month and get structural integration work. I go to free yoga sessions run by one of my coworkers who’s currently training to be a yogi. I allow myself one night a month to go to the dark temple and learn more about bdsm/kink. I take nights to hang out with friends. And, of course, I make sure to spend quality time with my daughter (nonverbal, now preverbal autistic - she’s starting to say words, ya’ll, and interacting 🥰 My heart is so full).

I’m still writing, albeit some days it’s only for 15 min, but I’m encouraged by keeping up with it. I’m not taking commissions cause right now I’m actually finishing one about a radiologist with skeleton husbands (expect chapters of that deliciousness out soon) and about to start another that’s the sequel to Horrortale (a very different type of deliciousness).

I wish I could sustain myself on getting commissions, but I have to be realistic: I’m dyslexic, ADHD, Autistic and I have a family I need to provide for (and currently in a very well paying job I’ve put in over a decade of my life to reach). I don’t write fast. I never have. This post right here will take me 20 min - yeah, I know “WHAT?!?” But I spend a lot of time thinking about my words, and I like to think that’s why people like my writing ^_^ It’s why I like my writing. I re-read my stuff all the time, and I’m like, “fuck yes.” I love it. And I love that you all love it.

- This was probably not the response you were expecting. But I do want to tell you again that your blog truly is a wonderful bright spot. I have used it now more than once this week to unwind and take a 15 min break from the whirlwind of my busy but happy life. Thank you. 💜

#ask #cerys talks #making it work #sustainable hustle #live life in all its moments #it’s not work if you enjoy it - ha ha - I say that but it’s true. I love my job. I can look at what I do and know I’m making a difference…#then I write smut and know I’m making a difference… in your pants 🤣 and that’s the other side of me. I love it.#love yourself #be yourself #thank you for checking in #thank you for the light

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rogueshadeaux · 11 months

Text

Chapter Fifteen — A Surface Memory

I sorta froze; this was the history I knew. My life, the bits with Mom? It stopped here, on this page, and yet we had barely made a dent in the photo album. Why was the idea of turning the page so daunting?

Dad wrapped one arm around my shoulder, the other coming into view as it slowly turned the page.

5k words | 20 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: Continuation on the mentions of loss, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Complications, Surgery, Drugs, Gangs, Terrorism, Mass Casualty. Not like, all at once or deeply described, but definitely mentioned. Imagine if that all happened at once, jfc

I turned the page again, this section surprisingly different; the photos were of Mom and some dude with a blue mohawk, all a bit rough at the edges; like they were old, but well preserved. Mom’s pink hair was still there, but she didn’t look as…edgy, I guess. Plain shirts and simple earrings and stuff. “This is Abbs and her brother,” Dad clarified for me.

Brent, the first Brent.

I didn’t know a lot about him at all. I imagine that was intentional, another thing Dad had to hide. “Did you know him?” I asked.

Dad shook his head. “He died before everything, even before your mom was a DUP prisoner.”

“How?”

Dad suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “I…” he trailed off, biting at his lip. “Gang war bullshit.”

Oh.

I mean, Dad said Mom had a history with drugs and the Akurans, but were they actually involved with that stuff? Not just victims? “Your mom had a hard start to life,” Dad started gently, as if reading my mind. “Had to…run away when she was a kid, ‘cause her parents were trying to turn her in for being a Conduit. Brent had taken her and ran and they…well, they had to survive somehow, you know?”

“They were gonna give her to the DUP?” I whispered.

Dad nodded. “It was worse back then than it is now,”

And that’s saying something, ‘cause it was still pretty fucking bad.

But they bought into the propaganda and were actually going to turn Mom in! How could a parent do that to their kid? “Were they gonna turn Brent in too?” I asked.

Dad hummed, confused at my question before realizing what I meant. “Oh, no, Brent wasn’t a Conduit. Just Abbs.”

I knew there was some genetic explanation to becoming a Conduit; something about both parents needing to have a recessive gene — and even then there was only, like, a 1 in 1,000 chance of a child being a Conduit. The fact that both Brent — my Brent — and I were Conduits was a lucky draw.

Or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it.

“So he—“ I faltered, looking down at the picture of Uncle Brent using Mom as an armrest, sat on some kind of retainer wall. “He ran away with her? Or to protect her?”

Dad shrugged. “Both.”

“Oh, wow,” I whispered. He didn’t look that much older than Mom — he had to only have like, three years on her, max. And if she left as a kid…there was a good chance Brent was one, too. A kid, a normal kid, who threw away a comfortable life for his sister. But…when those Akurans kidnapped me, and I had those three minutes where I thought Brent was the only Conduit out of the two of us…I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same. I was totally willing to, in fact — it’s why that gun was on my temple in the first place.

I turned the page; this next section time hopped forward, summer on the trees just in front of the house. Mom and Dad were next to an old white truck, the back full of stuff covered with a tarp and strapped down. Next to it was Mom, a shaky shot, sitting reclined in an old leather chair, staring at a TV above the fireplace. “I was really excited to move her in,” Dad said. “Y’know, not just because she’d be there but…it was the first time she really had a home since she was a kid. She deserved something stable.”

Another page, and another flash forward; Mom’s brown roots were taking over her hair, and she sat on a bench at the patio of the Longhouse, leaned back, arms protectively caressing a decent-sized bump. Another one had Dad sitting beside her and they just…stared off into the Sound. “I managed to get Betty to sneak quite a few pics because—“ he motioned towards the pile of books on his side, “—you saw my mom’s stuff. She’s barely in it. I wanted Abbs to be in pictures more,”

Well, Dad had quite the foresight, then.

Next page was something Dad called a gender reveal, something that died off a few years ago. Not that there were many people in the photograph; I could pinpoint like, three of Dad’s friends I already met, some girls I didn’t know. That old lady that gave me pads was there, and one caught Dr. Sims hiding off on the side away from everyone else. They were in the recreational room of the Longhouse, I saw it when I walked by it to go to the bathroom. One of just Mom and Dad, a big group one, a few of them milling. Flipping the page came with the actual reveal, blue confetti everywhere on the wood floor beside Mom and Dad. “You guys really thought I was a boy,”

Dad laughed. “Like I said, Brent was the only one to ‘show the goods,’ so we had to assume.”

“That had to be a surprise,” I commented, turning the page to a baby shower feature. Everything was blue, including every piece of clothing they got.

“What?”

“Me, coming out a girl.” I looked up at him. “Was it weird?”

Dad chuckled. “Weird? No. A surprise? Oh yeah,” his laughter grew. “Your mom thought they brought back the wrong kid at first,”

“What?”

Dad nodded, flipping the page; this one was a selfie of sorts, Dad holding up a peace sign with Mom glowering behind him in a hospital bed, the captioning explaining something about inducing labor. “You’ve gotta remember; she had surgery. It…” the laughter suddenly evaporated. “This went bad. I wasn’t even allowed in when they wheeled her to the operating room. Just got shown you two before they took you to the NICU. She wasn’t awake to see you two come out.”

That shadow crossed his face again, that dark one when he was reliving something that involved loss. And I hadn’t realized it before, simply ‘cause I never really thought of it; if Mom had an emergency surgery, that meant it was an emergency. Could we have died, all three of us?

Maybe that’s why this page only had the one picture.

Dad turned the page again, two porty little potatoes wrapped up in white baby blankets, shoved under some giant warming light. They had tubing in their nose, wires sprouting from their blankets like growths on spuds. “Your mom…you know what a placenta is, right?” I nodded — I took health class. “She had an abruption. It…there was so much blood, and the heartbeat reads on both of you just took a nosedive. There wasn’t even any warning to it — one moment we were watching this zombie show and then she was gone for surgery. I only got a glimpse at you both before they took you to get oxygen.” He breathed shakily, rubbing a hand on his knee in an effort to rid himself of the nervous energy. “But after a few hours in the NICU, they figured you guys were okay,”

“But we did have to be taken care of?” I asked, pointing to the picture.

“For like, four hours. But I got to be there after finding out if your mom was okay,”

“Ah, made sure Mom knew her other boy wasn’t switched out.”

He smiled a bit. “Took some convincing but, yeah,”

There were a couple other snapshots of these little babies, barely distinguishable from each other. Funny, for a few moments, we really did look like twins; fat noses and fat faces and fat. Just fat. Was it normal for babies to look so squished? I was the slightest bit darker, that’s literally all that was different. That and the giant weird red mark on Brent’s forehead.

I turned the page again, greeted with the familiar face of Mom and Dad holding Brent and I, the same photograph Dad kept on his desk. The other page had some souvenir birth certificates from some hospital called Swedish, that same cursive on the wall in the nursery writing out my and Brent’s full name…with the last name Walker–Rowe.

“We weren’t always Rowland, were we?” I asked, as if the proof wasn’t right there.

Dad shook his head. “Your mom and I had a deal: hyphenated last name, and she’d be willing to change it if we ever got married.”

Rowland was probably a part of the witness protection program thing we had going on. Keep us hidden, safe. I definitely didn’t plan to ask, at least; the shadow was still on his face, and I didn’t want to make him spiral any further.

Dad wrapped one arm around my shoulder, the other coming into view as it slowly turned the page.

Mom was there, there for the trip home from the hospital and the Akomish Naming Ceremony, something Betty dressed up in full traditional garb for. There to hand one of us in a bundle of blankets over to Dr. Sims, there in the next pic laughing as he reacted to being spit up on. There for the sudden influx of pink clothes that she happily mixed with the masculine blues before forcing my chubby little appendages into them. There rocking Brent to sleep, there feeding me a bottle. Dad was there too, don’t get me wrong; there was a sweet one with him asleep on this very couch, me laid on his chest with some sort of headband-bow around my impossibly small head. But Mom.

Mom was there.

We got older, grew out of the awkward doughboy look and into actual, distinguishable babies. Brent started out blonde, surprisingly, and darkened rather quickly over the weeks. He matched Mom’s brown by the time he began pulling up to stand, propped up against furniture. I browned out a bit more from birth, never straying too far from Dad’s side once I started crawling. “You remember S’mores? How she’d always shove herself under our feet when we were walking in the kitchen?” Dad asked, and I nodded. I missed that cat. “You were like that with me when you learned to crawl.”

My cheeks heated up. “I was a bit needy, wasn’t I?”

Dad chuckled, “Oh, yeah,”

Once Brent and I got a handle on walking, though, the pictures changed drastically; anything with Brent always seemed to be mid-motion, snapshots of him running around like a miniature tornado while ones of me were more calm yet just as chaotic, on top of a kitchen table or under somewhere that looked impossible to reach. “You weren’t as energetic as Brent, but god you were a Houdini.” Dad laughed, shaking his head. “We had Betty babysit Brent once to just watch you and make sure there wasn’t anything Conduit you were doing to get wherever you wanted.”

I turned the page again, this time to one of me on the fridge. On the fridge, like atop it, standing in that space between the top of the fridge and the ceiling. “You guys had to study me to make sure I wasn’t using random powers?”

“Yeah. Turns out you’re just smart and don’t stop until you get what you want. Like the toy I put on the fridge to stop you and Brent fighting. You used the kitchen cabinets as stairs.”

Ah, that’s what that weird thing in my hand was.

Next set was of a birthday party, just Betty in attendance with Mom and Dad, stock little safari animals decorating the living room. The Christmas tree was still up, paper streamers wrapped around the branches in place of ornaments and with presents under it wrapped in paper that screamed HAPPY BIRTHDAY in bold. “Is this where the birthday tree came from?” I asked. We always kept our Christmas tree up till January 18th, the bottom of the tree holding bigger presents while the branches would hold smaller things like paint brushes or video game cases or gift cards. It was one of my favorite traditions.

“We were just lazy,” Dad shrugged. “You try finding time to put up Christmas stuff when you’ve got Brent learning how to open the front door and you trying to pull everything out of the kitchen cabinets to hide in them.”

Yeah we were definitely why he was graying fast at 44.

“But yes, your Mom and I talked about doing it after getting you two to bed that night,” Dad added. “I wanted…it didn’t hurt to keep the idea after we moved to Portland, you know?”

I nodded. A snippet of Mom in our life wasn’t something I was upset to have around.

The next pages were of the nursery gutted or tarped, Mom handing Brent a paintbrush while visibly holding me back from trying to eat some paint out of a bucket. Nice. Glad that’s a memory now. The wall was tarped too save for a cut out square, the elephant’s canvas in it. “So you made it before we were born?” I asked, Dad nodding. I looked back at the pictures, the next one a close up on Mom.

The smile began to slip off my face; Mom, she…she didn’t look the same. I mean yeah it looked like Mom but I hadn’t noticed her skin was a bit gray, cheeks seeming to become sullen. She looked sick. There was life in her eyes that didn’t match her body, but she just didn’t look right.

This had to be what Dad was talking about. Whatever our birth did to her was starting to become obvious.

I flipped the pages, ignoring a lot of what we were doing more so to track how Mom declined; her arms got a bit skinnier, her collarbones more pronounced. There were less pictures of her in action with us and more of her sitting or laying down. There were quite a few pics of her with little wrappings on her elbows, the after effects of a blood draw or something. She…she looked like she was on borrowed time. If the Akurans never got to her, would she have lived anyways? She didn’t even have the energy to keep up with the dye in her hair, the brown roots coming back with a vengeance. She took to wearing baggier tees as summer returned and I wondered if that was to hide that she lost weight. S’mores was suddenly there, a Burmese kitten that looked like a toasted marshmallow, Mom holding her as if she’d melt away in her hands. “S’mores was Mom’s cat?”

Dad nodded. “I got S’mores for her as a late birthday gift. You guys were not nice to her—“ he pointed to a picture of me with my hand on her head in a bad pet, S’mores glowering but otherwise unmoving, “—but she was a great cat. Let you do almost anything to her, and would only swipe if you pushed too far.”

“She never used her claws,” I commented, remembering all the feverish little rapid patpatpatpatpat smacks she’d hit me with when I tried shoving her in doll clothes. She’d smack me, run to Dad yowling, and I’d get in trouble — but she never hurt me. I never even heard her hiss till her cancer got bad when we were 13.

Dad was torn up when S’mores died, and now I got why; it was another piece of Mom, ripped away.

There were Fourth of July pictures featuring only Dad and Betty, Mom missing from the festivities at the Longhouse. Betty playing with me, Dad holding Brent’s hand more to keep him in place than anything as they walked the shore of the Sound — but no Mom. Mom was on the next page, wrapped up in bed with Brent and Me under her arms, all three of us having some sort of movie night where she managed to placate us two into stillness. There was a little bit more color in her face, but it could have also been from the blush she gave the camera, caught by Dad. One beside it was Brent and I now fully active on the bed, chasing around a pink light that overexposed our faces on camera — but it didn’t erase the joy. Not at all.

Next page was a cute family one, Mom and Dad wrangling Brent and I down respectively, posed on the front steps of the Longhouse. Another one of Betty losing her grip on us, but nonetheless laughing, reaching out to try to snatch Brent back up before he could run too far as I was slung over her shoulder, looking back at the camera and laughing.

There weren’t any other pictures on the opposite side, nor the rest of the book as I flipped through. The memories stopped there on the Longhouse stairs. “That’s the day I proposed to your mom,” Dad said sadly. “Betty wanted a picture when we came back in celebration.”

And a week later, Mom would be dead.

I sniffed, trying to push back the tears. I had so many emotions flowing through me, all touched with a twinge of sadness. Mom was here. On this couch, in this house, at some point — and I had proof. I could sprint outside right now and scream to the heavens that I had a Mom, that she loved me and I had proof! It was right here in this old album, which I subconsciously brought closer to my chest as I closed it, breathing shakily.

Dad’s arm on my shoulder tightened a bit in a side hug, drawing me closer into his side. “You okay?” He asked gently.

I nodded rather feverishly, sniffing again. “Yeah, I…” I gripped the book tighter, like if I squeezed it hard enough it’d hug back. “She knew us.” I whispered.

“Hm?”

I tried to raise my voice higher, but couldn’t. I may as well have been vapor, the way it suddenly vanished. Everything welled up in my chest, trying to shove its way out.

Dad’s hand rubbed against my arm softly, and he breathed deeply before saying, “She loved you. Both of you, and it’s been hard keeping these memories from you two because you deserve to know how much she loved you.”

Tears began escaping without my consent. God, I didn’t think I could cry anymore today. Dad’s other arm came around to grab me fully and I couldn’t hold back anymore, pain and joy and sadness all flooding out on choked sobs as I cried. I even felt Dad’s breathing shake, his nose sniff — he joined at some point, but never stopped consoling me. Didn’t worry about anything but how I was doing, keeping a hold on me even as I pulled out of the hug, throat raw.

He let the silence hang as I composed myself, trying to steady my breathing and get those embarrassing hiccups to stop. I let the book rest on my lap again, freeing my hands so I could pull the sleeves of my shirt over them and wipe my face dry. Weird, you’d think the powers would deal with them.

Dad’s thumb was rubbing a gentle pattern into my bicep, and I tried to force my breathing to match the rhythm of his movements somehow. “She was really happy you were a girl, by the way. After the whole scare that you got swapped out and stuff, she actually was so happy she cried. Something about not being surrounded by testosterone,”

I snorted, the sound gross because of my congestion. Yeah, sometimes it sucked being in a house full of boys, I probably would have been relieved too.

“Brent needs to see this,” I eventually said, my voice a harsh croak that required me to cough to even it back out.

“He will,” Dad promised. “I’ll show him tomorrow at some point.” Dad then sighed hard, giving me a slight bit of room as he went from squeezing into me to leaned back on the couch. “How was he?”

I shrugged. “He…upset. I missed whatever fit he threw, but that construction site is completely unusable now.”

Dad blinked, looking down at me. “Really?”

I explained what I saw, how absolutely destroyed the site and surrounding trees were — but Dad didn’t look surprised. In fact he hummed, as if it was a curious outcome. “I’ll have to talk to him about it. I think I might know what happened,”

“Tommy just—“ I sputtered a moment, trying to find the words. “How could he? Not exactly being pro-Conduit is one thing but he sold you out! After everything!”

Dad stared into the fire, which really needed a stoke, thinking. “You know, when we left here and I became Damion and everything, I sort of thought that…maybe it was a good thing. I was scared of what being Abigail Walker and Delsin Rowe’s kids was going to do to you two. Not even the death threats or the stalking or the harassment but…stuff like this, with Tommy. Especially when I thought you two were normal, I felt like I made the right move. That maybe we should have done it earlier.”

What would that have done? Tommy would still be prejudiced, we’d still be Conduits, Dad would still be Delsin Rowe. Mom probably would have died from whatever made her sick. “We shouldn’t have to hide,” I huffed. “It’s not fair! I mean, why is it so wrong that we’re Conduits? You know how much good we could do?”

“People are scared of what they don’t understand,” Dad said sadly. “And with Empire City and the Plague and Augustine’s stunts — they have reason to be scared. They’re worried they can’t protect themselves.”

“They don’t need to protect themselves! It’s not like we’re hunting them for sport.” I scoffed. “And even if something happens, I mean — doesn’t it feel safer to have a Conduit help?”

Dad was giving me a weird look, like he was analyzing all I left unsaid. Probably to chastise me for the curse words I was keeping out. “Jeanie, I want you to think back to when those Akurans had you. You couldn’t do a thing to safely get out of that situation, right?”

I nodded, the idea of that day enough to cause knots in my stomach. Even after it all, the only reason I got away from his gun was because I turned to water in his arms. If I wasn’t a Conduit, or if I didn’t form powers then…would I even be alive?

“That fear is what everyone has about Conduits. Guns and stuff can only do so much. If someone shoots at us, we can dodge or block it — and we heal fast. What’s to stop us from killing them?”

Not much.

“But we aren’t killers, Dad! You’re not, me and Brent aren’t, and none of those Conduits in COLE were either.”

Dad’s soft smile he gave me was weird, sort of like he…felt sorry for me? “There’s a lot more to this than you know, Jean. It’s not always that easy.”

Then fucking make it easy, Dad! I’m not a child anymore, I’m 99% adult and you can tell me what you really think instead of hiding behind the ‘you’ll understand when you’re older’ excuse.

That’s what I wanted to say. Instead I sort of huffed under my breath and looked at the fire, grabbing the poker to stab at it a bit.

A few embers shot out from my poking, and I watched them flitter down to the cold tile that lined the edge of the fireplace, dying midair before they could even hit the ground. My mind wasn’t on the argument I wanted to start with Dad at all anymore, but the absolute tragedy that happened earlier. “Dad?” He hummed. “Did…is it still at nineteen?”

His hand came up from its lax position, running over his face. “Yeah. Didn’t go up, but there’s a couple people in critical condition,”

So it could change.

“So…how many of them did you know?”

Dad’s eyes didn’t leave the fire, the flames haunting him as if he watched COLE explode in person. “All of them.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. 19 acquaintances or friends gone, snuffed out like those embers. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right.

“There’s a vigil tomorrow,” Dad said. “Got an email about it. They’ve kept me on the email chains just in case I…” he shook his head as if resetting the thought, trying again with, “I hope they stay safe about it. Another big gathering isn’t the best idea.”

The thought came to me, and left my tongue just as quickly: “You should be there.”

Dad turned to look at me like I just ate ash out of the fireplace for a midnight snack. “What?”

There was a brief second where I thought about shaking my head and saying ‘never mind’ — but there wasn’t a good enough reason not to. We didn’t have the liberty of reasoning anymore. “You should go. They — the Conduits need a voice right now and I know Dr. Sims is there but it’s—“ I shrugged, finishing lamely with, “It’s not you.”

“Jeanie, I need to make sure you two stay safe—“

“Dad,” I cut him off, pulling out of his embrace to face him fully. He blinked, surprised by how serious I was being. “I don’t think we can hide anymore. It didn’t work, anyways — they found us. And besides, staying silent right now is admitting it’s the truth. They know you’re Delsin, and they know about me and Brent. There’s video and Tommy is ratting us out anyways so it isn’t like we can just pretend things are okay.” I thought back to that one on one I had with Betty on the patio; maybe she did know what she was talking about. “COLE was just blown up and I don’t — maybe if we did something no one would have died—“

“Jean—“

“But we can’t just leave them to fend for themselves! They need you. Not Sims, not some other guy, not the politicians, but the man they credit for freeing them. I don’t think anyone but Delsin Rowe can fix this.”

Dad shook his head. “I’m not — Jean, this isn’t one of those comics you want to write. I can’t be that guy, I just care about you and your broth—“

“But you are.” I stressed, a few seconds away from dropping to my knees in a plea. “You’re that guy to them. I thought you were that guy too: you didn’t have to help them, but you did, and that’s what they care about. That’s why they need you. And I know you care, Dad! You wouldn’t have made COLE if you didn’t.”

He looked at me for so long I eventually dropped my vision to my hands, chickening out of the staring contest. But it’s the truth: he should be there. For the people he knew, for the ones he helped. Everyone knew Delsin Rowe was alive, and it was too late to shove that fact back into its little box. We did have a choice, and ours was probably more important than any other average Conduit, because I fully believed Dad’s involvement could change the tides.

“You really think that?” Dad finally asked, just above a whisper. I looked up; he was still staring, the ghosts of a thousand fears and the shadows of a dozen emotions crossing his face.

“Yeah,” I answered with no hesitation. “I think they need you again.”

Dad breathed deeply, squinting his eyes shut like the action hurt him. “I don’t want to leave you two alone, but I can’t take you back there right now,”

“We aren’t alone,” I shrugged. “Betty can babysit us so you know we aren’t drinking.”

“Oh I’m not worried about that,” Dad suddenly chuckled. “You have a super high metabolism now. You’ll need to drink an entire handle to feel a buzz.”

“What?”

Dad’s stare tried to be disapproving, but cracked under the amusement. “You could pretend to not be so heartbroken, y’know,” but that pensiveness came back, and Dad went quiet.

I couldn’t think of anything else to say. What could I say? I couldn’t force him there, and it definitely didn’t look like he was ready to decide what to do.

So instead I shifted to lean against him again, grabbing the photo album and asking, “Do you remember anything about these pictures? Like, what was going on that day?”

I didn’t look at Dad, but I could tell he was caught off guard by the sudden change in topic as he said, “Y-yeah, a few of them, why?”

“Tell me about them?”

For a moment, Dad tensed, and I was sure he was gonna shrug me off and tell me to just go to bed. But then he shifted, leaned into the couch so I fit more to his chest and opened the album like it was a storybook. “So it’d been…almost two months since I heard from your Mom — there were so many interviews with the FBI and Reggie’s funeral and Curdun Cay that we barely got a moment of peace. Didn’t even really say a proper goodbye to each other. But one day she called and asked if I was still close to Seattle, if I’d meet her at the warehouse where she sorta kicked my ass…”

I fell asleep there, the rumbles of Dad’s chest becoming a white noise as I listened to him explain a past I was only becoming acquainted with.

#infamous second son #infamous #infamous erosion #delsin rowe #sucker punch productions #Fetch Walker #Reggie Rowe #Brent Walker #Abigail Walker #Eugene Sims #the gang’s all here!!#for a moment but whatever #fanfiction #fanfic #infamous OCs #i couldn’t think of a better banner either #MAN I wish I could draw I’d hand make every one of those lol #oh!#infamous first light

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itsyagender · 15 days

Text

Personal one so feel free to scroll away!

I'm trying to remain hopeful bc surgery isn't that far away now but I'd be lying if I said I was fine, I've missed out on so much bc of this, I'm currently in bed flaring *STILL* after my last bleed and it has been nearly a full month -- it hurts to go to the toilet almost at all not to mention the other constant aches.

Genuinely, endo has taken so much from me, including a lot of my mobility.

I really didn't think I'd suddenly wake up one day in too much pain to even move properly and that's the thing -- neither does anyone else. They don't want to think something like this could happen to them so they deny you.

All in all this shit sucks, I miss my friends, I miss skating (currently I get about 20 mins in before I'm absolutely exhausted) and I miss my family too. I want to invite people over but not while I'm flaring like this or in pain so it's become even harder to invite people over because I'm never not in some sort of pain.

That's also i guess kind of hilarious and ironic -- people don't believe I'm in this level of pain but I also don't want them seeing me like this so how are they meant to believe me?? Lmao

Anyway yea my doctor suspects both adenomyosis and endometriosis and I wouldn't be surprised at all, just give me a fucking hysterectomy already

#endometriosis #endo posting

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nicistrying · 9 months

Text

Thurs 20th July

An update: yesterday I finally got my sun tattoo (already looking at a moon to go with it and already 90% sure I want one for Maggie too)

I like the idea of a little outline in this sort of style

Of us cuddling with her head in the crook of my neck as we do most mornings

In other news, today I got my IUD fitted and it was obviously painful and unpleasant but I was big and brave and the nurse and doctor both said I did a good job staying calm and relaxed and I was super proud of myself bc this is something I've been putting off for like 5 years.. then I went out to the car, almost passed out, had to wobble my way back to the surgery and be taken back in by a nurse to be laid upside down until I was less fainty... when they sat me up I got really nauseous so had to sit for like another 20 mins trying not to vomit, admit defeat and call in sick to work. I had asked the doctor when she offered me the 10am cancellation if she thought I could realistically go to work for 12pm and ahe was like yeah sure most people do! But obvs this was my first one and my body hated it 😂 this is not even to mention the cramping and swelling 😭 my poor little womb. So I eventually drove home veeeery slowly and Matt has had me laid up on the couch with my hot water bottle and regular painkillers all day, I've barely moved. The cramping is definitely manageable with painkillers and I'll go back to work as normal tomorrow but I also definitely could not have gone to work to lift for 9 hours today.

#personal #update #tattoo #iud #sick day #my second one in three years #i hate being a woman rn

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ratcatcher0325 · 2 years

Text

A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #21)

Chapter #21. Alexander versus a vet. Who will win?

Previous: Chapter #20

Next: Chapter #22

Word Count: 3,721 Read Time: Approx. 29 mins

CW: adult language, angst, injury, dehumanization

Tag list: @gatlily @grbene @patrocolus3 @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo @cup-o-chai @lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien , @thegodmother007 @honey-olive, @kitn-underfoot; @bittykimmy13; @cloudwatchingtoday

_____________________

A Fraction of Justice

Chapter #21: Maladies

[Alexander’s POV]

The receptionist lead Natalie through a glass door and down a hallway, to the examination room. I couldn’t help but maintain my death grip on her pinky, as she carried me along. I normally would have found her stroking of my head and neck to be anything from mildly annoying to downright condescending, but in this moment it was actually comforting. She was showing me, in her obnoxiously human way, that she was there for me. Moments later, with the door shut behind us, we were alone in the private room.

She sat in one of the two provided, plastic chairs, setting her purse down in the other. In front of her (and behind me) was a Formica countertop connected to some cabinets with aluminum handles and a small utility sink. Hanging on the walls, slightly crooked and uneven, were framed diagrams of a cat’s skeletal and circulatory systems as well as a poster of different dog breeds. There was a dusty, fake ficus in the corner. The buzzing florescent light gave everything a cold, sterile and washed out appearance. This was clearly the motel 6 of veterinarians. I shuddered, wondering what that meant for the quality of the service. What an ugly, horrid place. I began to understand why animals of a lesser intelligence cried upon entering.

I was so grateful to be alone with just her, even if only for a few moments. Being introduced to new humans was always, inevitably, an excruciatingly embarrassing experience. Especially when this one was likely going to prod around in my infected wound. How much pain was I about to be in?

“Alexander? You okay?” It’s like she’d read my mind. My head snapped up to meet her eyes, her brow was furrowed slightly. She’d shifted me around in her hands so that I was now leaning back, cradled a bit awkwardly between her two cupped palms. I used my hands to push myself up a bit, wincing at the pain as I dragged my leg.

I sucked air into my lungs as I tried to calm my nerves, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“I’m sure the doctor will be kind and gentle. You’ll be in good shape in no time.”

At least she restrained herself from flat out saying ‘vet’. “You don’t have to placate and lie to me as if I were a child.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… I can see you’re frightened and I want to reassure you that I’m looking out for you—“

“I’m not frightened! I’m perfectly relaxed!”

********

Just then, the door across the room slammed open with a loud and sudden squeal. Alexander immediately jumped and cowered behind the wall of my fingers, squeezing tightly onto me with both tiny fists. Normally, I would’ve found the impeccable timing of this to be hilarious, but right now I only felt bad for him. Poor thing. I placed the pad of my thumb between his shoulder blades. I’m right here with you.

The vet stormed in, his bespectacled face buried in charts clamped to a dirty, scratched up, old clipboard with a chunk missing from the bottom right corner. Dr. Greene was a barrel-chested, big-boned man, with almost nonexistent hair thinly covering his liver spotted cranium. His face was broad, blunt, and splotchy in complexion. He was mumbling to himself as he entered, which I was just able to catch the tail end of, “…. Trisha if you schedule another one of these goddamn new patients between my surgery rotations—“

As I stood to meet him, Alexander clutched protectively in my cupped hands, he stopped suddenly as though he realized what room he was in. Hurriedly, he peeled his skin tight, blue latex gloves from his blunt, meaty hands. I couldn’t help but notice they looked stained with some sort of splatter…. I didn’t want to think about just what it might be. They cascaded into the otherwise empty plastic waste bin with a distinguishable rustle. He carried the chart over to the sink as he washed his hands. I glanced down at Alexander, who’s quaking I could feel though the surface of my palm. I wanted to cradle him against my shoulder and high tail it out of here. But where else could we go? This was the only vet in a thirty mile radius that was remotely within my meager budget. I felt ashamed that finances limited my ability to properly care for him.

Over the din of the rushing water drumming against the aluminum basin of the sink, Dr. Greene cleared his throat, still not actually looking at either of us. “So. You’ve got a pet who got himself into some trouble, eh? Male, early thirties, no papers, no vaccination records… you sure you didn’t steal some rich kid’s birthday present off their front porch?” He finally turned to look at me, tilting his head downward to peer at me over the rim of his half-framed glasses.

“E-excuse me?” I felt a flash of anger tighten my chest. He was looking at me and assuming I had stolen Alexander? What sort of classist fucking bullshit—?? His eyes were small, dark, sunken in, puffed from over work.

A soft dry cackle escaped the man’s lips, “Apologies, uh, Ms….” He glanced back at the chart, “Ms. Marquez, that was my poor attempt at a joke. I’m Dr. Richard Greene. We’re grateful you brought your companion in with you today…” Like I had literally any other choice. He put on a fresh pair of latex gloves before continuing, clapping his hands together with a loud, rubbery smack that made Alexander jump, “Now, what seems to be the cause for concern?” He eyed me again from below his glasses. I simply looked to Alexander and raised a brow. It was his body and his injury, he had more of a right to answer that question than I did.

“Hello, yes, I, the actual patient in question would be happy to answer that.” The vet turned his gaze to look upon the little man in my hand, who was now sitting up with a board straight spine, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and chin defiantly tilted in the air. He did not like being ignored, and I really couldn’t blame him! Dr. Greene with a visible smirk, nodded for him to continue, “I received a dog bite from an adolescent German shepherd… my patella, collateral ligaments and surrounding tissue were rent, and crushed severely. Now, I appear to have contracted a rather significant infection. As we speak, I am suffering from mild nausea, lightheadedness, disorientation, headaches, chills as well as severe swelling at the site of the infection, including purulent drainage—“ he sucked in a lungful of air to continue, only to be halted by the low rumble of the doctor’s laughter.

*********

He took off his spectacles and wiped the sweat from the bridge of his nose as he chuckled, quietly at first and then loud enough that I was forced to cease in my testimony. He replaced his glasses before crossing the room towards myself and Natalie. “Wow!” He exclaimed, flashing teeth that were too white and straight to match with his blotchy and irregular complexion, “You are just one smart little pet, aren’t you? Ha! That’s the best I’ve seen yet!” He immediately regarded Natalie again, “Did you teach him to recite all that? I’ve seen it done before but not to this—“

“I’m not reciting anything! I’m trying to give you an accurate snapshot of the extent of my injuries. Now, please, listen to what I have to say!”

“It’s true!” The woman above me chimed in, “He really is that smart. He knows what he’s talking about.”

The doctor, far more unsettling to behold in his disgraceful descent into old age from this much more… personal.. vantage point, bent at the waist to get far closer to me than I was comfortable. I braced, my upper lip showing my teeth as I fought as hard as I could to keep from shaking. His breath smelled sharply of peppermint. My heart roared beneath its cage as I refused to break eye contact with this creature ten times my size, his thin lips were pressed into a smile, “Bravo, little pet. Bravo! You want to come intern with me? You could be our new secretary….” His eyes gleamed with condescension. I felt the steam rising to pour out of my ears. “Now let’s have a better look at that leg of yours, shall we?” Gigantic hands, three times the size of Natalie’s, began to encroach on what little space I had left between his overwhelming visage and my own corpus.

I heard Natalie draw a sharp breath as she pulled away, stepping back. I squeezed her flesh with a shaky fist as she rocked back, jostling me in the process, “I’d much rather set him down on the counter. He hates being handled.” Thank you, Natalie. By comparison to this nightmare in a white coat, I’ve come to better appreciate your idiosyncrasies. The doctor backed off, and I was suddenly lowered down, down onto the icy surface of the counter that made me wince when it made contact with my barren legs. While we settled, the doctor was fetching a rolling stool. I glanced quickly over my shoulder at Natalie, who’d placed her hand, perpendicular to the counter, a few millimeters away from my spine. Without breaking my gaze with her, I reached behind, and placed an outstretched palm on the tip of her pinky. She’s looking out for me. I’m going to be alright. Perhaps through sheer repetition, I’d start to believe it.

With the unpleasant grind of plastic and rattling metal on linoleum, the veterinarian wheeled himself before me. He opened a drawer and fetched a pair of magnifying lenses and a head lamp and placed these both around his skull. Then, he retrieved another object that made me tremble ever so slightly: suture scissors, small and incredibly sharp. Putting both the lenses and light in place which blared with a blinding intensity that made me groan and shield my eyes, he began to drone in a cold and calculating way, “In order to see the extent of his wound, I’ll first have to remove these bandages. Normally, I would apply restraints to guarantee immobility, but as you two seem to have a shared understanding, I’ll ask you, Ms. Marquez, to kindly restrain him, here…” Suddenly with a force so strong the wind was knocked from my lungs, a massive meaty finger was pinning my chest down to the table.

“H-hey!!” I choked, but to no avail, I was hardly audible to the people above me. The doctor continued without missing a beat.

“And please restrain the ankles like so….” He pinched my legs together between two forceful fingers that made tears spring into my eyes. There was more chuckling as the doctor seemed to notice something significantly funny for the first time. I was tempted to bolt upright and demand what his problem was, but feared being clotheslined by his prodding finger again I remained, obediently, splayed out on the counter. After a moment, he clarified, “Who’s bright idea was it to force him into that getup? It’s quite amusingly ill suited for a pet with his temperament!”

Without missing a beat, Natalie and I both snapped back in unison, “It’s a long story!” We shared a look. The instantaneous softening of her gaze helped settle my heart and my nauseous stomach just a bit.

“Mmm, I see, better left unsaid then.” He suddenly seemed altogether disinterested, “Now, if you please, Ms. Marquez?”

I felt her eyes on me, she raised her brow, asking for my permission. Frightened as I was of him, this unholy monster with thick concave glass for eyes, I trusted her, and knew she wouldn’t harm me. I nodded curtly, pressing my lips together and furrowing my brow as I tried to put on a brave face.

*****************

Seeing him lying there like that, before the pair of giant (even by my standards) blue-gloved hands, I was once again reminded just how minuscule my favorite angry, little friend was. For all his self righteousness and courage, he was a very, very fragile little being. I hated that I’d have to participate in holding him down, but I knew it was more a precaution than anything else. With the lightest of pressure, I gingerly rested a finger tip over his thundering chest and very softly held his ankles between my two fingers. I watched tension melt from his little body as I touched him gently.

Going to the doctor was scary for humans… I couldn’t imagine if my doctor was ten times my size!! I was so proud of him. I figured I would have definitely started bawling long before now if it were me in his shoes. The vet cleared his dry and hoarse throat, “Alright. And, here, I’m simply making a small incision into the bandages to remove them…” at the sharp metal edge of the tiny scissors edged underneath the bandage, I watched as Alexander’s whole body went rigid, but he made no sound whatsoever, the tendons in his jaw popping as he ground his teeth. His brilliant blue eyes, glassy from pain and exhaustion stared up at me, searching for an anchor to hold on to. I’m right here, I’ve got you.

Suddenly the sound of air being blown through teeth in a sharp, disapproving whistle, pulled us both back to the present, “Mmm... this is far more significant than I thought….” He gripped Alexander’s leg around the thickest part of the calf with two massive fingers. I felt a lump in my throat just watching his giant hands on the tiny limb. “Now, he’ll feel a bit of pinch here…” it annoyed me greatly that he only addressed me and practically refused to speak to his sentient patient directly. Very slowly he increased the pressure. Alexander yelped, I felt his heart rate spike. The doctor seemed to take no notice, he started rotating the joint. The tiny man cried out, pushing against my finger on his chest.

“You’re hurting him! Please!”

He was unfazed. What was wrong with this man? Wasn’t he supposed to care about little creatures? “He’s lucky it wasn’t worse… much worse.” He let go. Flipping the lenses and lamp up on top of his forehead, continuing as he wiped his glasses on his jacket lapel, “I’ll need to run a few more tests to see the true extent of what we’re dealing with. Go shopping, run some errands and come back in two hours or so and we should have the lab results by then...”

Alexander scrambled to sitting, staring up at me wide-eyed. I placed my hand around his back, “W-what??? I’m not… I’m not just going to leave him. I’m staying right here and watching while you run whatever tests you need to.”

The doctor smiled, “Ma’am all of our equipment is in the back. There’s really nothing for you to do while we have him back there… it’d be a waste of your ti—“ my heart was breaking. He’d have to go somewhere where I couldn’t follow???

“It’s not a waste of my time. I’m not leaving here until he comes home with me.”

A heavy, exhausted sigh was followed by a curt, “Suit yourself….”

“I’d really prefer to stay with him throughout this whole process. Any chance you can—“

As the man rose on creaking knees, he pointed to a laminated piece of printer paper that read: “Lab for authorized personnel ONLY”

“One of my techs will be out shortly to collect him. I hope you brought a book with you….” With that, he disappeared through the squeaking door.

“I hope you brought a book with you! What a fucking dick! Did you hear how fucking shitty he—” I snarled, but heat and wriggling against my palm cut me short. I looked down to see Alexander, shoulders caved, body shining with sweat, open wound throbbing and weeping afresh, as he pressed himself as closely as he could into the protective wall that was my hand. My heart shattered. I dropped immediately to a crouch to get closer to eye level. “Hey. Hey…” he buried his head against the base of my index finger. The only way I could tell he was crying was that my flesh became wet in one tiny little area where his cheek was pressed against me. “Oh, Alexander don’t… don’t cry….”

“…You’re going to be just fine… that guy’s an asshole but you’ll power through this, I know you will.” As I spoke, I gingerly wrapped my fingers around his tiny ribcage and delicately supported his legs with three fingers. Finally, I sat him down in a palm, tipped against my chest.

He clung to my shirt like it could somehow protect him, “I don’t want to go back there. What if they’re careless? What if they drop me? What if they administer medication for a completely different species and I’m dead within minutes?? I don’t want to die! Please don’t let me die!!” He white knuckle gripped onto me, shaking and stammering.

“Woah, woah, it can’t be that egregious back there! They wouldn’t stay open with mistakes like that!”

“No! You don’t understand! It happens all the time. I’ve worked… I mean… I’ve heard of case after case of malpractice and neglect. There is a particular bias against pets in the veterinary community… unlike their other charges, we can talk back…” he was whipping himself up into a frenzy. I had no doubt he was right, but in this moment, the cold hard facts were only going to give him stomach ulcers. Suddenly, with enough speed to startle him into silence without harming him, I pinched his rotator cuffs between a thumb and forefinger on either side and lifted him up until he was less than half an inch from the tip of my nose.

**********

Woah, hello there, Natalie. She was all I could see, could feel, could think about. Her breath warm and inviting was enveloping me as it rustled my hair. I was dangling there, an insignificant weight propped up by nothing more than her fingers. “Alexander?“ Yes? You already have my full attention. “I know you’re scared. You have every right to be. But… I also know you. And one thing you are, without fail, is strong-willed. I know you aren’t going to let them do anything to you without a fight. So let them have it if they deserve it. You’re quick on your feet and incredibly smart. Use that to your advantage. Remind them how similar you really are to them. I know you, angry little nightmare, and you’re gonna be just fine. Besides, I’ll be doing everything I can to make sure you get the care you need, alright? If they so much as harm a hair on your head I will kill them myself… sound fair?” I felt warm all over.

Something significant had shifted since I’d cried in front of her yesterday. We were…. Dare I call us… friends? Allies? I wasn’t sure what term fit us best quite yet, but, nevertheless, I felt for the very first time that I was not alone in my fight. I had her. And stupid as she could be, she meant well. Frankly, that was more than I’d ever had and I was, I realized, grateful for it.

“Thank you, Natalie. I don’t know where I’d be without you….”

She shrugged, “Mmm, dead, probably!” She broke into a mischievous grin.

“Don’t speak too soon!” I shook my head, almost getting lost in the humor and nonchalance of it all. However, my reprieve was cut short as the awful grind of that squealing door ripped though my eardrums. I gasped as Natalie shifted me in her hands, setting me in her cupped palm, so I could turn over my shoulder.

“Ms. Marquez? We’re ready for him now!” A small woman in periwinkle, ill-fitting scrubs appeared at the door, her choppy, cropped hair clearly died a pitch black. Paging the door with the heel of her boot, she extended her hands, for me… I gulped. There was the beautiful warmth of a thumb caressing my hair, down my spine as we marched forward, toward my impending doom. I suddenly found myself being raised up, until my head and neck were level with her mouth as she whispered only to me.

“Remember what I told you? You’re so much stronger than you know. Let em’ have it and don’t forget I’m right here for you, no matter what. You’ve got this.” There was one stride left before we’d reach our destination. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as warm, wet lips collided with the crown of my skull. My whole body suddenly ceased to feel like my own. I was melting into her, dizzy and dazed.

A sharp nasally voice cut through my reverie, “Awwwwww! Aren’t you just precious??? Yeah, you are! Yes, you are!” I suddenly thought a quick and unexpected death would be a preferable demise to whatever brand of personal hell this was. I found the warm, gentle touch of the only human I dared to trust slipping away as I landed in blue, latex-covered hands instead. They were hot, rough to the touch. Despite my best efforts, my body shook without my consent, “Awwww, he’s just a scared little fella! It’s okay!” She placed a rough, textured gloved finger on my hair and dragged it downwards, ripping and tearing at the roots as she did so.

“Argh! Don’t!” I thrashed my head and neck away from her.

“He really doesn’t like to be touched. Please don’t condescend to him. He’s much smarter than that.” The woman now holding me just chuckled quietly, settling her finger much too intimately close in my lap, instead.

“Don’t worry Ms. Marquez! We’ll take very good care of him! No need to worry! Enjoy your afternoon!”

I locked eyes with Natalie, my breath catching in my throat and then, in the breadth of a heartbeat, I was behind a squeaking metal door, out of sight.

#Doctors are scary #Vets are scarier #He's got this #Maybe #A Fraction of Justice #oc:alexander #oc:natalie #g/t related #g/t community #g/t au #g/t writing #g/t story #g/t #giant/tiny #gtcommunity #gt

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