#i mean that literally is how plague doctors kept safe it was about as effective as a diy mask

[jessicajonesrp]

Choosing sides

Jessica was dreading this conversation, more than any she could ever remember having in her life. She wasn’t much of a talker by nature as it was. But talking about important, uncomfortable things, things that were life changing and painful…honestly, Jessica would rather break several bones, because that kind of pain was far easier for her to deal with.

She knew that Luke and Trish were right about Phillip. They had literally shoved the proof in her face until she couldn’t deny it. But that didn’t mean she knew what to do about it. Stop him, obviously. Their suggestion had been for her to talk to him. She, apparently, was the only person Phillip might respect enough to listen to. But Jessica had never been good at convincing when it came to words rather than threats, and there wasn’t a lot she could threaten Phillip with that might be effective. She couldn’t even tell people she loved them without having a near panic attack over it. How was she supposed to convince her brother to stop killing people?

She had barely slept, considering the large quantity of alcohol she had consumed the night before, and the little sleep she snatched was plagued with nightmares that left her gasping and trembling when she woke. Hungover and on edge, she had been fighting to ignore Kilgrave’s voice whispering in her ear for most of the morning as she drank several cups of coffee. She couldn’t completely block out his assurances that she was doomed to failure before she started, that her brother actually had the right idea to kill everyone who had hurt him and Jessica, and nothing she said would convince him otherwise. She couldn’t stop hearing his goading her to give up the hero “act” and join in, to abandon Luke and Trish, who could never really understand her and who would never really think her good enough, and join up with her brother, as her genetics had already predetermined she would.

She would never actually listen to Kilgrave’s voice in her head. But she couldn’t help but hear it, and it rattled her before she could even begin.

She called Phillip mid morning, arranging with him as casually as she could to come by his apartment to pick him up and take him out for breakfast. What she didn’t tell him was that once she got to his apartment, she would make an excuse to need to use his bathroom, then spring her confrontation on him within the privacy of the walls. She also didn’t tell him that Luke would be riding with her to his apartment and once he saw both Jessica and Phillip go inside, he would come to “casually” stand outside on its landing, just in case she needed help or interference.

This wasn’t Jessica’s preference. She had insisted, with some heat, that she didn’t need help or a bodyguard, that if she was going to talk to Phillip, they needed privacy. But both Luke and Trish had been equally insistent that given what they knew, they refused to let her be alone with Phillip without someone at least within hearing distance of her if he tried something. As Trish had pointed out, whatever Jessica’s strength, she wasn’t immune to fire, especially if it happened to be all over her body at once.

She was quiet in the car ride over to Phillip’s, but her knees jogged in an irritatingly hyperactive manner that she blamed on excessive caffeine or possible alcohol withdrawal rather than nerves. As they parked the car and Jessica walked alone to the outside landing of Phillip’s apartment/motel, she was very aware of her heart having decided, seemingly, to lodge itself uncomfortably high in her throat.

Phillip opened the door with a smile and a nod; something she had noted was that like her, he didn’t seem one for excessive physical contact. She attempted to return the smile but was pretty sure it looked more like a grimace.

“Hey, sis,” he greeted, looking unruffled, even amused. “Rough night?”

She wondered whether it was the not-smile, her barely brushed hair, or her skin’s even paler than usual hue that had clued him in on that.

“You could say that,” she said vaguely. “Hey, can I come in for a second to use your bathroom?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, stepping back to let her in. “You’re not going to throw up, are you? If you’re that hung over, breakfast might not be the best idea.”

“No, just need to pee,” she muttered. She quickly scanned the interior of the room as Trish had when she broke into it, noting as Trish had how very little personal belongings were inside it. Did her brother really have so little in the world, or was it possible that he had a storage building somewhere that had things he didn’t use on a daily basis or didn’t want others to see?

She took her time in the bathroom, avoiding her reflection in the mirror. When she emerged, knowing there could be no further stalling, she started to talk.

“Phil, we have to talk about something important before we go anywhere or do anything.”

“I agree,” Phillip said with surprising seriousness, and Jessica blinked, wondering if it was possible that he had somehow already guessed the reason for her visit and the planned discussion. Could this be easier than she thought- was he already ready to stop on his own, even ready to confess?

No, as it turned out.

“Your drinking concerns me, Jessie,” he said solemnly, looking Jessica in the eyes. “Every time I’ve seen you, you’re drinking or planning to drink, or you’re hung over from being drunk the day before. I’m all for letting loose and having fun sometimes, but I don’t think that’s what this is for you. You’re a married woman now, and I know that sometimes…well, it can be hard to deal with relationship stress, and especially when there’s serious problems there. Sometimes people use drinking to deal with something that they don’t know how to escape. I know you’re strong and independent, you don’t like to ask for help. And your husband has been nothing but nice and generous to me, but I know some people are one way in public and another way behind closed doors. Jessie…are things okay with you and Luke? You would tell me if you needed help, wouldn’t you? If he was hurting you? The way you drink, and how he just stands back and lets you, like it doesn’t bother him…it worries me, Jessie. You know I would do anything to help you, don’t you? Anything at all.”

Jessica had to take several seconds to attempt to process his words. They were so completely off and twisted and unexpected that they stunned her silent. When she finally understood what he was implying- in multiple ways- it struck her as so wrong as to be morbidly funny, and she burst out laughing. Phillip continued to regard her, his expression still serious.

“It isn’t funny, Jessica. Men should protect their women, even from themselves, if necessary. If he’s doing something to drive you into this kind of drinking, or even if he just encourages you or thinks it’s fine-“

“Oh my god, shut up Phillip, would you just stop?” Jessica blurted, her laughter cutting off as Phillip pressed on. “This isn’t about Luke. None of that is in any way even a little bit true, so just stop it, you’re wrong, okay? You don’t know shit about Luke, and however much so-called research or if you want to get real about it, stalking, that you’ve done on me, you obviously still don’t know a lot about who I really am either. We’re not talking about Luke, and if you say anything that even implies he would hurt me again, to anyone, I swear I’m punching you upside the head. We have to talk about you, Phillip. You.”

She swallowed, then squared her shoulders, drawing herself up to her full height and softening her tone, but not the steel behind her voice.

“I know about you, Phillip. I know what you’re doing, and what you’ve done. It doesn’t matter how I know, I’m a PI, so I know, okay? Do me the favor of not playing stupid. Respect me enough as your sister to look me in the face and admit that you’re the one who set my office on fire. Look me in the eyes and admit to me the truth. You killed that woman in the parking garage. You killed the doctors that operated on us both after the accident. You killed at least four people that I know of, and you’re planning on killing more. Look at me and admit it.”

Something furtive and strange flickered over Phillip’s eyes, and his jaw tensed, his Adam’s apple bobbing briefly. He didn’t noticeably shift his posture, but Jessica was aware suddenly of the slight advantage in height that he had over her, the larger size of his frame, and the subtle darkening of his expression.

“You already think you know everything, so I suppose there’s no point in giving denials when it won’t change your beliefs,” Phillip said quietly. “So if you know what you think you do, Jessica, then you know that I didn’t choose my…abilities, no more than you did. They were forced on me, just as they were forced on you. Think about this, Jessica. A little boy, barely alive, lied to that every person in his family was dead. Experimented on against his will, not for his survival, or even to help, but for the interest and egotistical satisfaction of adult men who liked to play god. Painfully, and for no other purpose than to see what could be achieved. I could have been normal, Jessica. They could have let me be normal, but that didn’t happen. They could have let me have a normal life, with my sister, a normal childhood.”

He was just warming up, taking a step towards Jessica. She resisted her urge to back away.

“The foster parents, they all knew, do you realize that? They knew who I was and what had been done to me, what I could do. They got extra money for taking me in, and for the measures that they took to supposedly keep me safe. I grew up in foster homes where I barely interacted with anyone, where I didn’t go to a normal school or have normal interactions with other kids. I had a bed made of steel, no blankets, and was kept in homes specially designed and insulated against fire. Mostly, I was kept in my bedroom. And once I was eighteen, I was dumped out on the street to get by on my own. I had nothing. I was given nothing, I was lied to, and I had to find my way, find the truth, all alone.”

“Phillip,” Jessica started, her mouth dry. She could imagine this all too vividly, and her chest ached for her own memory of her ten year old brother, alone and terrified, believing himself orphaned, as herself had. “I hate what happened to you, but that doesn’t make what you’re doing right. We’ve both been through terrible shit, we both had it rough, but that doesn’t mean-“

“Do you know that when I set a fire, I feel the heat through my entire body, nearly as intensely and painfully as whoever it is that experiences the outside burn? You understand, then, that I don’t take this ability lightly or use it frivolously. It was given to me out of arrogance, but I use it for only the good of society,” Phillip interrupted her. To Jessica’s incredulity, he seemed to be completely serious. “You have to know, Jessica, that those people you say I murdered did not deserve to be living. They abused a child, their positions of medicine and as caregivers, their power and authority and the respect that society gave them. Think of how many other children may still be vulnerable to them and abused by them, if I hadn’t intervened. I only did what was right.”

“Phillip, that isn’t true!” Jessica snapped. “Listen to yourself! You are not a personal judge and executor of whoever you come across that’s immoral, you’re not some kind of vigilante appointed by destiny to murder fucking scumbags! You have to know that isn’t right, that isn’t how you go about life! People like us, however we got our powers, we can’t use them like that against people. It isn’t okay, Phillip, it isn’t right!”

“You’re one to talk,” Phillip said coolly, looking her dead on and with considerable judgment. “I know what you did to Kevin Kilgrave, Jessica. You say you can’t use your powers like that, but isn’t that what you did to him? You killed him, because you thought it was what society needed. Tell me again how what I’m doing is any different.”

Jessica’s mouth opened, then closed, her pale cheeks flaming. It was the same argument she fought against with herself every day, the same thing that Kilgrave often said to her. She knew that this was different, logically, but emotionally, Phillip had hit her in a vulnerable spot.

“That was different,” she said finally, but with less conviction than she would like. “Kilgrave could and would hurt anyone and everyone, and there was nothing that could stop him. Nothing but me. These people are just humans, Phillip. Evil humans, maybe, but still humans. They can be dealt with through traditional societal means. Hell, they can be bullied and coerced into confessing, if it comes to that, but they can have jail time, they can be contained within a jail cell, they aren’t a threat to every single person they ever come across. They aren’t like us, Phillip, and what you’re doing, it’s making you worse than them. It’s making you become worse. Is that what you want? You want to be worse than the people you know were wrong?”

But Phillip was already shaking his head, a hint of a sad smile twisting his lips.

“They’ve done a number on you, haven’t they? Trish and her twisted, lying, money hungry bitch of a mother. Luke too, whatever front he puts up of being such a gentleman, such a helpful, friendly sort of guy. They make you think you’re different, you’re special, you have a purpose, but only as they define it. There is no limit to who you are and what you should do. You survived the power they gave you and how they gave it to you for a reason, and you refuse to use it like you can.”

“No,” Jessica countered. “I refuse to use it as I shouldn’t. And I can’t let you use it like that either.”

Brother and sister regarded each other silently, a wide chasm growing deeper between them with each second as they took in each other’s stance. Jessica had never felt so alone as in that moment; in a way, it was as bad as the first few moments of understanding that her entire family, as she had thought at the time, was dead. She was standing only feet away from her brother, but she was losing him again, even as he stood breathing and within grasp.

“What are you going to do to me if I don’t follow your self imposed rules, Jessica?” Phillip asked lightly, but there was no lightness in his expression. “Beat me up? Knock me out and chain me?”

It was something she was considering, although she didn’t currently have the means to carry it out.

“What will you do if I try?” Jessica countered. “Burn me alive like your other enemies?”

Phillip didn’t answer her directly. Instead he nodded his head towards the door, gesturing in its direction.

“I think it’s safe to say that our plans for breakfast are cancelled, as of now,” he said softly. “Why don’t we leave things as they are, for now. Go back to your husband, Jessica. I suspect he’s standing outside the door right now, or else waiting in the parking lot. Go back to your husband, and why don’t we just forget this conversation.”

“I can cancel breakfast, and I can go to Luke, but I will never forget this,” Jessica leveled back at him, every muscle in her body tensed with her effort to hold back equal urges to knock him out as he had stated, and to break into tears. “I think it’s safe to say you can consider yourself fired at the warehouse, Phillip.”

She backed towards the door, never taking her eyes off him; she could not be certain now, could not trust, that he would not set her on fire, if she did. Touching the doorknob, she stopped, leveling one last effort towards him.

“Phillip…please. Please, you have to stop this, you have to. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be this. Please, please be the better person. Be the person our parents would have been proud of, the person I can be proud of. Please, Phillip, please don’t do this to yourself. Don’t do this to me.”

Her voice nearly broke, and she bit hard on the inside of her cheeks to regain control. But Phillip’s expression barely wavered.

“Unfortunately, Jessie, I don’t remember enough about our parents to have any idea of what they would have been proud of, so forgive me if I have to go by my own judgment.”

There was nothing more she could say to that. There was little she could have managed without a complete loss of control to either violence or tears, so Jessica left, slamming the door behind her hard enough that the doorknob broke off in her hand. Tossing it down, she brushed back Luke, head down, without speaking, almost throwing herself into the car.

Phillip watched her leave through a crack in the blinds of his motel window, waiting until he was certain she was out of earshot. Then he picked up his phone and dialed a contact that showed up on his list of calls and texts far more often than any other- Rikarah Pallaton.

“Hey, baby. So Jessica knows, and she reacted about like we thought she would. Looks like it’s time for me to move in with you full time, if you’re ready. And it looks like we need to skip a few steps ahead.”

“Of course,” said a smooth, unruffled female voice on the other line. “I didn’t think she would accept reality quite so soon, with the drinking being a factor in clouding her judgment, but I suppose she’s sharp enough regardless to piece things together. Are we targeting the Walker woman first- the mother, of course?”

“Yes,” Phillip nodded, his tone cold. “You have her number. Make the call today, and let me know when she’s in place for my part.”

“Certainly. I’ll see you soon, love.”

#jessica jones roleplay #luke cage roleplay #luke cage #jessica jones

[ihaveneverbeengivenflowers]

(Not so) Random considerations on birth control methods and menstrual cycle

Although absolutely nobody fucking asked, I wanted to talk about my personal experience with birth control pills and menstrual cycle. First of all, let's catch up on how did I get here.

I started taking oral contraceptives (OC) since my mother took me to a gynecologist for the first time. The doctor made me a prescrition because I told her I suffered with cramps during my period. I was about 13 years old.

I kept taking OC every single day for the following 11 years, until I reached 24. Several doctors I passed by along these years changed the dosage and combinations of hormones I took, because each of them gave me a different bunch of adverse effects. Headache, nausea, menstrual cramps, recurrent urinary tract infections, candidiasis, vaginal bleedings... the list goes on.

During my teenage years I found out some women from my mother's family have circulatory problems, from varicose veins to venous thrombosis. There are also cases of cancer possibly induced by sexual hormones. That is: conditions that make OC, especially the combined ones, contraindicated for me. I got worried and decided to come back to the doctor and talk about another options available. The only one that was presented to me was the so called minipills, which are OC made with a single hormone instead of a combination of two. I took it for the following 5 years straight, and it seemed a good idea at the time because I've spent all my life struggling with underweight and anemia. Since the OC completelly suspended my period, I was supposed to be fine.

However, last January I had a major vaginal bleeding, even though I didn't stop taking my OC. I had terrible abdominal pains, and the bleeding continued for almost 10 days straight. Like I said, being underweight didn't improve the situation and my immune system shut down very quickly. Besides, I was having a hard time to keep up with my bills and wasn't covered by any health insurance at that time (I live in Brazil, and for those who are not familiar, things are a little bit different here. Theoretically we do have a public health system, but in real life we can't barely count on it and the access to the private system is kinda surreal for those living with minimum wage).

Well, as soon as I could, I saved enough money to go see a private doctor. I paid for the appointment and a several exams to find out that my bleeding was possibly caused by multiple ovarian cysts. Both of my ovaries were 3 times bigger than the normal size, and the doctor hypothesized that a big one of them (or a few) must have simply ruptured, and that the whole shit was probably induced by the fucking OC.

In summary, the doctor said I had polycistic ovary syndrome (PCOS). Plus, I should stop taking my actual OC and go back to the combined ones. Yeah, those same I was not supposed to take both because of my family history and the previously described adverse effects. He emphasized that was the only treatment available, and that my condition actually had no cure, so I should just take it for the next 30-40 years until I’d reach menopause, while praying for not having cancer or thrombosis or embolia and... well, to die of something else not related with OC.

So, well... I quit. I smiled and waved to the doctor and left the office. I was about to turn 25 and I decided I wasn’t going to take it that way. Now that you’re up to date in the story, let’s move on to where I was really trying to get with this post.

Please note: I ain't no gynecologist nor physician, but nowadays I’m a post-graduate health professional with a couple years of clinical practice. And I think I’m allowed to apply the little knowledge I acquired during 7 years (so far, still counting) of higher education to see through this situation with a tad of criticism. Not only regarding my own case, but regarding the doctors’ position when it comes to women’s reprodutive health - at least in my country. Therefore, let’s consider some key points:

Is there a real need to prescribe OC to young girls aged 13 years or less just because they come to the office complaining about menstrual cramps? During the period the lining of the unfertilized womb is being shed through the vagina. It involves muscular contractions, so of course it might get painful. There’s nothing abnormal about it, so why purging it like a plague instead of teaching them that’s a physiological process and how to relieve the pain in case it happens? Nutritional counseling, physical exercises, simply using a hot-water bottle or even taking an occasional painkiller can totally solve the problem.

The primary aim when taking OC is expected to be, should be, birth control. Yet, they’re frequently prescribed to girls that don’t even have an active sex life because of light acne, oily skin, menstrual cramps and/or intense menstrual flow without any further clinical complications... or just because. You might take it as some conspiracy theory, but you know what it looks like to me? Creating a very profitable market for pharmaceuticals. And nothing more. If women get sick and end up developing cancer or whatever, even better, so more drugs (way more expensive ones) will be sold.

In fact, there are another treatments available for PCOS. But it seems doctors are too lazy, or too comfortable in their position of filling a single standard prescription, that they completely ignore any alternatives. Can you wonder why? Maybe because it requires a minimum of health and sex education, and that takes time. How are they going to be able to attend people in less than 5 minutes if they’ll have to talk to their patients, right? Simply doesn’t worth it. Anyways, again, alternatives include acupunture, homeopathy, phitoteraphy, dietotherapy throught nutritional counseling and regular physical activity. Each case is different, but keep in mind: OC aren’t the only way, indeed, literally speaking they’re not even a treatment because they don’t treat it.

Opening a parenthesis: of course there probably are exceptions and good doctors no matter where. But doctors at public health system are in general unsatisfied with their working conditions and environment, while doctors at the private system usually are anything but well paid by insurance companies. In overall terms, the more academically qualified the doctors get, the less prepared for attending real life demandings in developing countries they are. Also, the less willing to work in such places they are. (If you’d wish to read more about it, I highly recommend seeing Chapter 5 - An example of a paradigm and its social conditions: scientific medicine of La construction de sciences, by Gérard Fourez.)

Still on PCOS topic: first of all, having multiple cyst on one or both ovaries doesn’t necessarily mean PCOS. PCOS, as a syndrome, means there are multiple criteria that need to be fulfilled for closing the diagnostic. In this case, criteria involve imaging exams, symptomatology, clinical and biochemical evaluation. In my case, for instance, PCOS is a diagnosis that simply doesn’t suit my medical history, but no doctor has ever bothered making an anamnesis. I’m not trying to say anybody should go to Dr. Google’s opinion (seriously, don’t), but look out for more information than it’s given to you at the office, even because often none is given.

I know suspending the menstrual cycle can make life much more easier. No worries about pads, unexpected leaks, cramps, PMS etc. But take it from a different perspective for a second. There seems to be a lot of content over the internet nowadays about body positivity, empowerment and tons of so called movements of deconstruction of established paradigms in our society about feminility and feminism. I’ve seen a lot of girls online sharing their experiences on stopping taking OC etc. I don’t know how far it’s good or not, but there’s a point that can be taken from all of it: the menstrual cycle is a natural part of every woman’s reprodutory phase in life. It’s not disgusting, embarrasing or whatever nonsense we’ve been told. And it can be a good way for us to conect with ourselves, to listen to our bodies. Observing symptoms such as pain, fatigue, cravings, emotions, sex drive; checking on cervical mucus, body temperature, hours of sleep... all of this can be part of a daily self-care routine and, moreover, be useful to birth control.

Talking about birth control: I’m genuinely surprised on how much the doctors whom I interacted during my life underrate condoms as a method against unwanted pregnancy. They say out loud that it’s not safe and, unless the conspiracy theory about selling drugs is real, I simply don’t get the reason why they do that. In first place, this is bullshit because condoms are a very effective fisical barrier that prevent even a single spermatozoid from swimming along the vaginal canal and straight up to the womb. Second, there’s no 100% safe method except for sexual abstinence; not even OC + condoms (theoretically not even tubal ligation) are 100% safe, since the human body isn’t a static machine and everything is prone to error. So, yes, opting for non-pharmacological methods of birth control instead of synthetic hormones can be valid.

Obs: condoms work as long as they’re properly stored, used and discarded. But the same can be said about OC and any other contraceptive methods. And, important: choosing a contraceptive method involves not only statistical data on the margin of error of condoms and pills, but also individual phychossocial aspects. In other words: a determined method might not be the doctors’ first option and they might not personally like it, but they can suck it up and use their fucking knowledges to find the best alternative for you.

Again, I’m not trying to encourage you anybody else to contradict their doctors. However, I think that questioning is part of a healthy and constructive process. First because doctors are human beings, therefore they’re as prone to error as anybody else (or even more due to long working hours). Second, because they’re supposed to be the primary source of information for any questions you might have about your own health. Third, because I believe with all my heart that the relationship between health professionals and their patients must include, if not be based in, trust.

#menstrual cycle #period #menstruation #contraceptives #pills #health #womens health #epiphanies