I have basically three things to remind me to take my meds:
1. alarm on my phone (that I usually just turn off and sometimes then forget, especially when I don't have my meds at hand).
2. Habitica, an app where you can set different task and it does send reminders (though it doesn't always work) and gives you the option to check them off. you can add tasks to only do once (to-do's) and "daily's" though you can set intervalls - so, you can set something to be only notified every few days, or a specific day of the month.
3. mediteo, which also sends notifications that you gotta check off, and I'm not sure if it's a specific setting, but I usually get two, another one after like 5 minutes if I haven't ticked the first one. since this is specifically for medication, you can actually log pills individually. you can also set reminders to notify you when you're going to run out of meds - given you put in the amount of pills you have.
and in mediteo you can add additional medication you took (I think, I never do it cause I forget and only ever take ibuprofen lol), and you can check the information leaflet that also has all the info on side effects etc.
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Here's some positivity towards people with medical devices that others view as "gross", or "shouldn't be seen in public". It's bullshit the way this gets treated and I want more positivity about it, so I'm making it myself.
People with catheters. People with stoma bags. People with feeding tubes. People who have tubing or medical alterations they can't hide. People who otherwise have medical devices which are deemed "not socially acceptable" and "gross".
Your medical devices deserve to take up space. We should not be made to feel ashamed for devices which keep us alive. We should not be made to feel insecure for the ways our bodies function and the assistance we need to live. You deserve to be yourself, you deserve to exist in public as a disabled person, and you deserve to be accepted and celebrated as yourself, medical devices included.
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whats so fun about the vaccinator (vacc slander)?
You come to my blog and disrespect me like that.
Have some vaccinator propaganda.
Some textless panels that I enjoyed drawing and rambling about the vaccinator medigun under the cut.
Surprise, it's only medic.
I am not saying the vaccinator is not absolutely broken, I 100% feel dirty using it against a badly coordinated team, hence I wouldn't mind if it received a nerf in the future.
A lot of people analyse the vaccinator as only useful against a badly coordinated enemy team, but I think it's much better as a weapon for when your own team sucks ass has bad synergy, since any form of uber is pretty much wasted on everyone (if you can even build enough charge). To compensate for everyone's mistakes, just make sure they stay alive long enough to capture points and push the cart. Everyone will automatically stay with you, and soon you'll have a nice meat shield of 4 people swarming around you. You know it's working, when there's suddenly 3 demoknights and a spy after you.
I love micromanaging my resistance bubbles, and I love micromanaging my team without them noticing that I'm doing it. Pressing the R-button to rotate through resistances feels like such a much more engaging contribution to the battles your patients are fighting.
Vaccinator is busted, but absolutely not boring.
And to close this rambling, here's my fav video about the vaccinator:
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@steddielovemonth Day 25: Love is… Asking, “Do you want a blanket?” (Prompt by @thefreakandthehair)
wc: 952 | Rated: T | cw: Hospital setting, mild descriptions of injuries and general hospital stuff, physical pain, one mention of blood
Tags: Post-s4, Fix-It, Eddie Munson Lives, Hospital
'Hospital Blankets'
“Steve? Hey, Steve?”
Steve is pulled out of a restless slumber by Eddie’s stage whispering. A twinge in his back fully rouses him as he remembers exactly where he is – in Hawkins General, bent up like a pretzel on what is quite possibly the world’s hardest chair, wearing nothing but a hospital gown and his underwear. He blinks harshly, his vision blurry as he looks in the direction of the chattering, dark-headed form lying in the bed in front of him.
“Huh?” he grunts, his voice thick with sleep as he becomes very much aware of the overall pain radiating over his whole body.
His throat burns too, even from a single word. He instinctively reaches a hand up to the reddened scar there – already a formed habit – only to scratch himself with his patient wristband.
“Do you want a blanket?” Eddie continues, his weakened voice indicating he is barely conscious, let alone aware of Steve’s discomfort.
Steve arches his back this time but it causes his chewed-up sides to ache, the bandages stiffening and contorting. Their tacky borders pinching at the already tight skin and scar tissue.
He gives up and slumps back in the chair, clutching the armrests for dear life as a twang shoots directly up his spine to his head. He runs a hand through his hair, impossible to keep from flopping in his face considering all he can do is give himself a goddamn sponge bath these days.
He should have just listened to Robin (and more than a few disgruntled nurses) when they begged him to stay in his own room.
But his room feels empty. Big and dark, just like his family home but a little more white and clinical smelling. It gives him nightmares. If he manages to settle enough to sleep that is…
It’s kinda hard when your friends are scattered throughout the bowels of the local hospital, all in varying states of distress meanwhile, outside the world has half caved in.
“Steeeve,” Eddie whines this time as he repeats, “Do you want a blanket?”
He half dry-sobs his query and Steve has no choice but to shimmy upright – thankfully, the slippery cover of his stupid seat helps him up this time.
Blanket… he finally considers and finds himself stifling a shiver.
He didn’t think to bring a blanket with him as he was much too focused on getting out of bed and down the hall to Eddie’s room. A room that is much colder than his own, which the occupant clearly knows.
Eddie’s fist is balled up in his blankets, offering them up as he raises his shaky arm.
“No,” Steve says softly, shaking his head and waving him away.
Eddie needs it more.
With a herculean effort, Steve moves the chair a few inches closer to the bed, hoping it isn’t scraping the floor or tangling up any of the wires and tubes hooked up to beeping machines – god knows where they each begin and end. His sides all but seize up as he sits back down and forces himself to correct his posture.
“But you’re cold,” Eddie frowns, his voice impossibly small.
“I’m fine,” Steve protests.
Eddie’s weak hand punches at his banket in a haphazard swish motion.
“Get into bed with me…” he mumbles, closing his eyes, “Rest with me, sweetheart.”
His head lolls to the side and Steve huffs out a laugh. Eddie is certainly on one hell of a cocktail of meds, mixed with the overall exhaustion that must come from almost dying. Steve can barely keep his own eyes open and he wasn’t anywhere near as close to it.
His heart thuds in his chest as thoughts of Eddie’s almost lifeless body rush back to his sleepy brain.
Dustin’s sobs… Robin scrambling to tear up clothes and sheets from the Upside Down version of the Munson’s trailer to make bandages… Nancy forcing everyone to focus as she devised a game plan, stopping every few moments to shoot down undead bats…
Steve screws his eyes shut and stands, bracing his arms on the sides of the chair before swiftly moving them to the bed for purchase.
At least Eddie’s right side is a little less banged up – but only just enough, Steve thinks as he hikes back the three warm layers of blankets enough to sit himself down on the bed. He swings his legs up next, clenching his jaw as every muscle in his body aches and pains from what transpired however many days ago.
The bed is a tight fit, but Steve doesn’t mind. The mattress is perhaps a fraction more comfortable than the chair, but he soon warms as he settles down and rights the blankets, smoothing them out for good measure and double-checking he hasn’t disturbed Eddie too much.
His body warms almost instantly as he rests his head beside Eddie’s on his pillow, positioned close enough that he can feel frizzed dark curls tickling his cheek. Eddie’s wispier than he expected and smells of the generic hospital soap – but at least the dried and caked-up blood is gone.
“That’s good…” Eddie coos, turning his head to face Steve, those tickling tendrils now replaced with a soft woosh of his breathing.
He can see the scar on Eddie’s cheek now. The bandage patch has been removed, exposing raw stitches today. Steve sighs, relieved by the smallest of steps forward.
Eddie can’t do much more than reach his hand out. And Steve takes it, interlacing their fingers despite the heart monitor clipped onto Eddie’s right index finger.
“Blanket’s... warm…” he mutters, nodding as he feels slumber tugging at him once again.
Eddie hums in agreeance and lightly squeezes his hand.
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