Harry s truman va hospital jobs

Need to put my story out there.

2023.05.28 20:03 oldje73 Need to put my story out there.

Not sure this is the right forum for this. This is a burner account used to be a degenerate human.
Anywho, Served 91-03. Deployed to most all of the bad places. Not all of them unfortunately. Separated and began my corporate ladder climb. Achieved my goals. Life’s good. All the while my past comes back to haunt me. Cancer.
The year is 2015. Begging to have digestive issues, chronic diarrhea. I’ve been using the VAMC. Doc attributes it to low iron and diet. Sure thing doc. The year is now 2017. Doc, I’m begging you, WTF is wrong with me? Finally get to GI. Upper and lower GI performed. Dude you got Cancer. Bad doc! Bad patient! Yeah I should have pushed them more. My Bad….Doc is let go from VA. Surgeries, oh shit!! He’s stage IV. Not looking good for the home team. Aggressive chemo combined with radiation….12 months later, bell ringing parrrrtyyyy whoop whoop…financially drained. VA claim denied. No service connection. No job..treatment residuals are a bitch. Off to work I go. 1.5 hrs away in another state. Nothing closer available. 6 months in. Noticing my mental health is deteriorating. Treatment residuals still a m’fr. 1 yr in..conflict with employee and fired. Move two states away. Family still in original home. I’m alone. New job going great. Making improvements, things looking up. I’ve survived Stage IV cancer. The year is 2020. Normal routine check up. Mental health somewhat improving. Reuniting with family soon. Cancer…biopsy confirms metastatic. Surgeries, chemo……….remission. Fuck. PACT Act….ohhhhhh yay! Original denial appealed. Granted zero….ugh residuals filed. Waiting………..today getting weaker but still fighting.
Of course there are “gaps” in the story line. Due to keeping the innocent anonymous.
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2023.05.28 19:59 JulianSkies Field Medic Technical Exchange - A one shot (part two due to size)

[Part 1]
Date: December 31st, 2136 Standard Terran Time - Day Eighteen, Desperation
It seems I’ve underestimated those doctors’ resolve badly. And I’ve equally overestimated their sense of self-preservation.
We’re down to the last few possible rescues out there, anything we find alive is a miracle to be kept going at all costs and we’ve started actually worrying about the dead. Yeah, we’ve just been leaving the dead where they lie before, no use worrying about them when there’s lives to save. But now we’re gathering them.
Hey, do you know how aliens are generally very weird about, like, blood? And us eating meat? They’re real squeamish, right? Wanna know what I saw this morning?
We’d ran out of painkillers yesterday. This morning I’d been following my partner, same lass that I drunkenly asked to lick me what looks like years ago by this time. She looked like a fucking bloodhound, I don’t know what she was doing but she found the poor guy, gal’s been doing this job for long enough I guess. Guy was severely dehydrated, nearby storage tanks had ignited or something bringing the whole building down, he’d become seriously trapped by his left arm that had already necrosed. Absolutely certain of infection.
Now, I’m strong. But I was not going to lift nearly three hundred kilograms of whatever this building material is. And all of our hydraulic lifters are dust at this point, we had no means of moving the debris. After checking for that, and finding it to be an impossible task, I setup to call the recovery vehicle to bring a few more people to see if we could move it.
“No time” she said “And he’ll lose it anyway”. I didn’t grasp, exactly, what she was saying at the time, but she asked me to get something hot. The fires from the storages here were still burning, even after so long. I figured she’d attempt to amputate the necrosed arm here and now, we did have some sharp tools with us and she was probably packing painkillers, right? So I prepared a very medieval cauterization tool using a piece of shredded metal.
She wasn’t packing painkillers. My survival knife had been dangerously chipped and bent out of shape when I freed a kid stuck in a locked armoire. The only sharp implement she had was her claws.
If any human reads this I want you to imagine. You’ve seen this kind of scene in media a lot, haven’t you? Having to make a choice to sacrifice someone’s limb to save their life. Maybe on old media someone bringing down a bonesaw on a soldier’s arm as they bite tightly down on a piece of leather. We’re the hardiest motherfuckers in this galaxy, aren’t we?
Now I want you to picture this tiny little teddy bear of an alien, who you’ve probably seen passing out at the mere mention of flesh. Imagine this little thing bringing those tiny claws down on someone’s arm and tearing apart flesh until the bone is showing, dislodging it away and finishing the cut with her bare hand. With that soulless, blank stare in her eyes. And the one getting torn apart isn’t some badass human soldier, it’s a meek little venlil, who’d probably barely even heard about what is going on, who was just some factory worker going about his day before the apocalypse came knocking.
He’s not going to be having nightmares about the arxur I can promise you that. Fuck I can’t even say I won’t be having nightmares of this scene. But she’d cut above the line of the necrosis, and he was freed. Ugh, the smell when I cauterized the wound… That wasn’t right… And he screamed for far too long, he should have passed out sooner, why was nature being so cruel this moment.
Back at the camp wasn’t any easier. It haven’t been easy for a while now… Suppose I better tell, I guess it’d be just plain disrespectful to those doctors pretending they’re saints. There were other things they brought in their personal belongings, things that weren’t, in the strictest sense, for healing people. A type of tool they’ve been using a lot, however.
Stimulants. And I don’t mean stuff like energy drinks, I mean “make the dead walk” kind of brain-busting stimulants. I’ve had to stop twenty eight cases of stimulant use. I’d asked myself earlier if perhaps zurulians didn’t have the same kind of stamina humans have, that isn’t true. Those people were taking their fucking bodies lightyears past their own limits, some haven’t slept in days. Everything to try to find one more living person.
There was a rotation on the triage VR rig, people have to sleep, right? So, I learned about a new kind of problem you can suffer, Somatic Shock. Wanna know what Somatic Shock is? It’s not just the human brain that does this wonderful thing of extending your sensations to your tools, of treating your tools as an extension of your body, seems like a pretty common trick of sapience. And do you want to know what happens when you spend Fifty. Fucking. Hours. Strapped to a VR rig without sleep?
That thing the brain does gets pretty strongly ingrained. And dragging someone out of the system causes somatic shock. It’s kind of like a version of phantom limb syndrome, but what they feel is what you’re doing with the rig. Dragging someone out of a VR rig in that state feels like you’re ripping their limbs out, that’s why it’s called somatic shock. He fucking said “Not as bad as the last time” to me when he stopped shaking “I blacked out back then”.
What is wrong with those people, they have no sense of self-preservation! You can’t help anyone if you’re dead! This isn’t a goddamn fucking last stand. At this point i’ve mostly turned to babysitting them instead of doing anything else.
Date: January 4th, 2137 Standard Terran Time - Day Twenty Two, Pyre
Today I caved in. Ever since I’ve realized they were using stimulants, they had offered them to me in case I wished. Not forced, just in case. Yeah I confiscated each and every one of those doses, before they killed themselves.
But today we were gathering the bodies, it was the very last stretch. We’re running low on literally everything, but at this point we’ve mostly accepted that whoever was left was dead, so we’ve gathered the bodies and identified them.
This… Is still a Federation world. Those poor people were killed by arxur, and also here I am. The help that was given was not requested, but I bet you all reading this know why we dealt with the bodies this way, yes? Doesn’t matter how much you think it’s right or wrong, when you’re here to help, the funeral rites are the ones of where you are. And, well… Here, it’s fire.
At least we tried making a pretty, respectable and honorable funeral pyre instead of anything else. Cremation is a thing, after all. But those ashes will scatter to the wind.
And so, as to not make this take multiple days, to make it end as soon as possible… I took a stimulant injection (yeah, straight into the blood flow, shows how potent the thing is). But i’m going to collapse to fucking hell afterwards, and i’m going to make each one of those damn doctors pass right the fuck out too. We’re done. We’ve done everything we could, everything we couldn’t and then a little bit more.
But despite all that, one thing… Horrified me. You see, that lass… She was watching the pyre burn. All of the others had kept as far away from it as possible, the newest guy, that one that was right out of college, had even thrown up at the sight of it. But no, that lass was watching it, and it made me worried. I went to check on her.
“Does… It smell like food to you?” was what she asked me. And honestly, after sharing this gods-be-damned nightmare with her, she asks me that? I was all ready to get extremely pissed off at her until I noticed what she was doing.
She was scraping her tongue with her claw almost maniacally. And she had even started to bleed. This… This was the lass that told me about how powerful their sense of taste is, how some things overlapped both their sense of smell and taste. The lass I had drunkenly asked to see how I tasted and identified my bad eating habits from that alone.
And that realization made me remember Placido. It was a huge fire, they even brought the armed forces to help the rescue operation, that’s why I was there. What stuck to me the most was the smell, that nauseating smell, the realization that the smell of burning human flesh was so indescribably close to the smell of pork…
And I realized the intent of her question was one word short of what her mouth said. “Does it smell like food to you too?”. Why is nature so completely fucking cruel like this? They’re herbivores and somehow, for whatever twist of fucking fate, because evolution is the worst engineer in the entire universe, whatever little chemical present in burning flesh didn’t just trigger their olfaction, but also their sense of taste.
It made me sick to my stomach to even consider it… And all I could say was “Yes”. I knew now why everyone else didn’t get close, just didn’t know why she did otherwise. But I did what I thought best, straight up grabbed her and pulled her away. Brought her back to the camp (of course we built the pyre far away, I wasn’t sure why at the moment but this must be why) and with an epiphany I… Jury-rigged something. My soap was almost gone, two thirds of it had been used to help sanitize tools at that point, but with my bent and broken knife I shaved little pieces of it into a water canteen, and managed to cobble together something with the vague smell of mint.
Wasn’t none of that buzz-giving smoke, but it was enough to help keep them sane. These people have such a terrifying drive to help people, but no discipline on how to help themselves. How’d they get like this?
Date: January 7th, 2137 Standard Terran Time - Day Twenty Five, Aftermath
Kiki, that’s what I’m calling her here, gotta call her something. Not putting anyone’s real names here, any good historian could match my diary here with the crew roster of the Beacon of Hope and figure out who she is but anyone else seeing this doesn’t get an identifier. Never asked those doctors if they’d let me talk about them, hence why no names.
Kiki reminds me of some people I’ve seen. Whole day she’d sometimes just seem to not be there, and then go back to her normal self afterwards. Right, we’ve finally come back up to the flagship. Dinnertime and she was eating a lot more, always pretty strong stuff. I went up to the most veteran guy I knew, the guy that had taken charge on the ground. Asked him if that was normal behavior and wanna know what he said? “There’s always a mission you don’t come back from, seems like this was hers” What even is going on here?
I tried to get more information, and he told me that it happens to everyone and it’s just a matter of time. One day your body comes back, but your mind stays on that mission, and can never leave. That every day you are both here and there, that every day you’re always at that mission, your mind never leaves it forever. This was very familiar, so I asked him what they do to those people and… “Nothing, they’re still part of the FRF” just a simple nothing. It said a lot, though.
I’m going to consider I’m talking to the future here, and these guys figured out what mental health is. At this time? What this guy said means a lot more than it looks. Nothing means not sending them to a place they wouldn’t come back from, he said they’re still part of the fleet too. You’ve probably read all the things I said earlier, these guys are pretty fraternal here. They help each other because they understand what they all go through
These guys know what post-traumatic stress disorder looks like, and now that I stop to think about his words… “it’s just a matter of time”... How many more of those guys have something like it? How many times were those distant stares during study time this happening instead of just thinking hard? They might not have a single study about this kind of stuff, but at least they try to be here for each other.
I thought there would be something for me to teach here but… There wasn’t. Not a thing. Can’t even talk about their self-preservation problems, I’ve seen plenty of humans do the same in disaster situations, even trained responders. Especially trained responders.
I’ve been spending the day around Kiki, trying to make sure she’s alright. Seems like she is, mostly, at least I can’t detect her getting worse aside from a few times spacing out. Gave her a stupid gift, one of my spare bars of mint-scented soap, smell seemed to help her get her mind out of things. That’s when she dropped a piece of information on me, she’d volunteered on a terran vessel. In fact, the entire unit had volunteered as crew on a terran vessel. Having been on the ground for what, twenty five days I’ve been out of the loop, but something’s going on.
Seems like we’ve got a but mission in Milieau, very big. I haven’t even contacted HQ back to report the end of our mission, didn’t have the strength of spirit to go wade back into the trenches so soon. And here they are, the first thing they do when they get home is ask “Where are we going next”. Been writing this to procrastinate calling, I guess I should follow their example.
Well, big mission indeed. Feds gone full mask-off, unreliable allies, time to rambo shit up. Turns out my unit back home is going to be part of ground operations, and my counterpart had been training with them. Those doctors are adding C-SAR (right, that’s Combat Search and Rescue to y’all reading this) to their repertoire and boy did the guy take to it like fish to water, it seems, guys back home really like the guy. Apparently he’s shocked some of them with his sense of humor, yeah, those guys will do that.
Meanwhile the whole unit I was with here had volunteered to join the hospital ships in that operation, we’re liberating a captured planet after all so we’re going to have a bunch of those in the wings. Actually the entire Beacon of Hope is going to field there, we’re on the way to the rally point right now. They’re going to distribute the excess crew (did I mention the Beacon of Hope generally has triple the crew it’s been built to operate with?) to our ships to alleviate the specialist crewing problems and then remain further back. There’s a wild difference between the facilities of a mobile field hospital like what the UN navy uses and what the Beacon of Hope has. Hell, their fuel barges even split off from the fleet to try and jury-rig their storages as material transport to get us a lot more supplies. This time they’re expecting things to go much, much worse.
Me… I’m going to see if I can try to convince HQ to let me field where this unit is going to, it’s probably going to be one of our hospital ships. Genuinely think I’d be more useful there, making sure those docs don’t burn themselves to death in their passion, than I’d be on a landing party. I know my guys got a good replacement for now.
Anyway, this was my piece. Dunno if i’ll want to write about the next op. You know, thinking on it… I bet this ship was running right in the rearguard of the fleet that showed up on Earth, no surprise they were the first to break with the feds to help us. We all know the feds messed up everyone with their shit, and who the hell knew that the ones they didn’t manage to break, were their doctors.
---
Yep, long enough I had to split in two despite planned as a one shot. Inspiration does that to ya.
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2023.05.28 19:58 JulianSkies Field Medic Technical Exchange - A one shot

Date: December 14th, 2136 Standard Terran Time - Day One
I am Sergeant Paulo Martinez, of the United Nations’ 12th Marine Regiment, field doctor. Unfortunately for my bosses, I’m not writing this diary for them. This one is for my sister. Yes you read that right, Maria, this one’s for you so i’m doing it the way I think you’d like it done.
So, lil’ sis the historian always talks about how the most fun historical discoveries are in mundane documents, a lot of stuff gets lost to time with just official documents, so when I told her I was going to visit Colia on official business, in fact at request of the Zurulian government, she just straight up begged me to keep a personal diary. Even if I never show her, in like a hundred years it’d be a more accurate story of what happens than any official report. So… This is it.
To explain better, in preparation for future operations the UN is trying to integrate alien advanced technology and methodology with ours, both to patch up theirs where it’s missing (as is often the case with their methods) and prop up ours (usually technical). My case, however, is a bit particular while being part of the same initiative. The government of Colia, that’s the Zurilian homeworld by the by, has requested a technical exchange with a field medic experienced in combat operations in order to help them prepare for the inevitable need for their famed medical expertise to be applied on the field, i’m not sure what my counterpart is going to be doing back home but I bet he isn’t going to be with the marines.
Anyway, it seems like I'm to be set up with a group of first responders for a grand total of a week, see what I can learn and see what I can teach. Shuttle (which is tiny, by the way, love those teddy bears but they’re tiny and their bespoke crafts are tiny) will be arriving in another hour and after that i’m to head for a briefing.
Okay! Still the first day, or night right now. I got to meet the crew I’m to be training with and got a better grasp of what I’m actually working with here. I made a mistake previously, it’s not first responders, I’m training with a unit from the First Response Fleet. Those guys have an entire fleet in charge of emergency response to any catastrophe, admittedly it’s not a very large one it’s just their flagship “Beacon of Hope” and a small group of support ships like two fuel barges (seriously what is their operational range to have fuel barges?) and some lander shuttles.
For a moment I thought it made sense why they sent a marine, those are military right? Nope, those are civilians as far as I can tell. I got to meet some of the people I’ll be training with though! They’re a fun bunch, and boy did they barrage me with questions. Remember the stories back early during first contact about aliens asking all sorts of stupid questions? Now picture that at quintuple speed and all of the medical variety, at some point I had to shut them all down. Not because they were annoying, mind, but because the questions started getting far outside of my field of expertise. I’m a marine combat medic, not an endocrinologist!
Which made me curious, so when I asked it turns out they’re all proper doctors! Out of a crew of twenty, because apparently the crews train together based on which lander shuttle they’re assigned to, we had ten surgeons of different varieties, three neurolinguists, two geneticists… I don’t even remember what the other five were but none of them with less than five years of schooling and all but one with at least eight years in the First Response Fleet, that other one was fresh out of getting his PhD, however.
Date: December 15th, 2136 Standard Terran Time - Day Two, Training
Apparently the FRF has its own facilities for training and fleet maintenance. I woke up early to get a look at the place and… I admit I’m a little surprised? This doesn’t look like what I was expecting, because it feels familiar. There were a lot of restricted areas, expected in a medical facility, but this felt different because a medical college, what I thought this was, wouldn’t have armed guards.
It also wouldn’t have a starship drydock. And it wouldn’t be designed like this. This place looks more like a federation-style military base than anything you’d see a bunch of civilian doctors in. I wonder if they’re essentially contractors to the military?
After a short tour on my own I went to have breakfast, and if this didn’t look like every military mess hall in the universe I’d throw my stripes in the trash. Boy are the teddy bears noisy, though, if there’s one thing I can say they’d beat any marine at is making a goddamn ruckus. I readied myself for some bland vegan breakfast, which don’t get me wrong I get it they’re herbivores and all but I usually I really miss my protein and the taste you know, but I was very surprised. I couldn’t tell you the name of the plants I ate but… Just… How can vegan food be this tasty? I thought aliens didn’t know how to cook?
Well, I was sure as hell wrong about that. I’m actually writing this at the end of the day and I’m chewing on a raw root for heavens’ sake because this thing tastes like mint and cashews? Most aliens might not know how to cook but apparently the teddy bears aren’t most aliens in this case.
Anyway, back to some chronological telling. I also learned they love tea, they can’t really start the day without tea and I don’t mean the pansy stuff from Earth (i’m a coffee drinker), oh no. I never thought steeped flower leaves would give me the caffeine jitters, but I should have when I saw they were black. Right, one of the gals in my unit is a biochemist, and she made this very weird joke to me if I could taste the poison on the tea? Humans have gotta stop the damn capsaicin hype before they think we can drink actual poison.
Surprisingly tasty breakfast over, me and the unit went for the first training of the day. As part of a disaster response team they need to keep fit, so morning is physical training. Now, you’re going to read this and think it’s weird, right? Wouldn’t it be paramedics or firefighters doing this particular piece of job instead of full blown PhDs with doctorates and all that? Yes it’s that weird.
Running, pushups, pullups, you know the whole full body training regimen? That’s how it started, I thought I was going to smoke the teddy bears but… Good heavens, I can’t in good conscience say I did. I mean, yeah, I outperformed every one of them but that was close, I swear the only reason I outperformed them is because of mother nature because it sure wasn’t my training and I’m, not to toot my own horn too much, a goddamn marine.
Afterwards we had ‘deployment’ drills. Yes I’m calling them drills because at this point I’m certain those guys are military in some weird way. Deployment in this case refers to the simple act of exiting the lander shuttle and deploying the field hospital. Guy in charge of training said today they were going easy because of me since I’ve never done this before, to general cheer of the rest of the unit.
The basics of deployment training is, we all get inside the lander with the gear, wait a minute to simulate the landing procedures, then we unload the gear and set it up as fast as possible but prioritizing no mistakes. So off I went to start, first boarding the lander, which was the actual lander we were assigned to. When I asked I was told this was so we’d be familiarized with the idiosyncrasies of the equipment we’d actually use in the field, in fact all of the gear we were training with WAS the gear they used in the field.
My first surprise was how… Cramped the lander was. And by that I mean this was an eight-person craft carrying twenty plus enough medical equipment to set up a field hospital. This was frankly absurd, in order to create enough space for me two of them had to sit on my lap because there wasn’t enough room, half of them had to stay standing! “We don’t take up a lot of space” one of them told me.
Apparently, these lander shuttles are perfectly safe to ride standing and there were specific roles for people who were standing, they’re supposed to start moving some of the gear out the instant the landing ramp hits the ground. That’s what they’re supposed to do anyway, but that isn’t exactly what happened. The landing pad is equipped with some kind of setup to simulate the ship’s landing impact, and that was some movement discipline I haven’t ever seen before- I felt the downwards impact of the ship, but before elastic forces moved it back up as ships do when landing this hard, people were already moving.
They didn’t start moving gear when the landing ramp hit the ground. They moved so fast that the first piece of gear, the power generator, hit the ground moving into place less than a second after the tip of the ramp hit the floor.
The whole deployment training was four hours. We repeated the deployment procedures for four hours without rest, and it wasn’t simple. This isn’t a field hospital in human terms, my friends, no. One of the first things set up is a power generator, after that a communications array to call up the flagship, then they bring out the tents but those aren’t the simple bed and clean space affair. They use shielding technology to keep particulates out, the operation tent even uses that system to create an airlock to keep the air inside clean. There’s an entire miniature operation theater, there’s a rapid diagnosis rig with a whole ass ton of sensors operated with VR as well as two tents just for patient recovery.
Those are neither simple nor light pieces of kit. That’s some sci-fi supertech shit right there. The target deployment time is five minutes. Five. Fucking. Minutes. I don’t think I could set up a tent in five minutes. Hell, when they started moving I had to reign in my instincts, it looked like I was getting ready for breaching action. Oh, they were taking it easy and instructing me all the time, took them fifteen minutes to set up the entire field hospital.
After that bit of intense training, it was dinner time. Did you know that there is a specific kind of plant here that when you mix its dried and powdered leaves with some of the local flora it induces the maillard reaction? Fucking cold-fried tubers is what I got, it’s like those slightly citric cold fries that have all the good parts of fries but are cold? Alien food I swear, if I ever have to turn vegan I’m only eating at zurulian restaurants.
And then it was study time, gotta keep up on the latest medical science and they afford you time to do that. Pretty damn impressive library they’ve got, not just some proper paperback books mostly for historical value (did you know paper here is black and they use a dark red ink to write in it? Weird alien trees) but an immense digital library. I was a bit at a loss of what to do , I’m at best a paramedic not a doctor needing to keep up with the latest and greatest, thankfully one of the guys on my unit showed up with some first response manuals with the basics for every species. And then promptly dragged me to the unit’s study group because apparently the entire unit also studies together.
Man I thought that was going to be annoying, it thankfully wasn’t. Damn cheerful bunch they are, real classy body horror jokes as well. I’ll be honest I never thought I’d see an alien get dark humor, nevermind start it, but I like those teddy bears. Also none of that better-than-you crap I thought I was going to get either, they helped me out a fair bit memorizing some procedures (seriously, there’s a method for mouth-to-mouth on a bird that works, but boy is it going to be nasty) and awkward as it was having a nearby human was plenty helpful since they were all studying human medicine.
And oh, hey, that’s the door. I got invited for a bit of a welcoming party. I’ll add more when I get back.
Date: December 17th, 2136 Standard Terran Time - Day Four, Hangover
Sooo… Apparently tea brewing is a far more complex and ancient art here I guess? Did you know there’s a kind of plant that builds up alcohol inside of it here? And with the right steeping process you get this very tasty alcoholic green tea that just sneaks up on you like a motherfucker? That’s why you’re not getting anything from yesterday, jesus fuck deployment drills, timed this time, on an ungodly hangover were not fun. Turns out this unit’s usual time is seven minutes, by the way.
Got to learn a fair bit about zurulian biology that night out, though. And clean up your mind, that’s not what I mean. Turns out they’re quite more sensitive to some chemicals than humans, or at least sensitive in different ways. They’re also WAY more open to recreational drugs, it turns out, especially in drinkable form.
One of ‘em got this thing that looked like an ashtray? And it was burning something. Dude just put it on the table and took whiffs of it now and then. I got curious and went to try and holy crap I got dizzy just getting close to it? Lum leaves, he told me, they give a nice buzz he said. Nice buzz? It’d have knocked me right out if I didn’t step back fast enough, apparently whatever’s in lum leaves at best works like a beer for them, though. And the weird part is he said it tasted good.
That was when I learned that zurulians have a damn fine sense of taste. Which, by the way, explained why they were passing by a rock and licking it at some point. I thought they were trying to weird me out but no it’s apparently some kind of palate cleanser, I tried but it just kind of tasted of rock. And, it turns out that their tongues can detect some usually-airborne chemicals as well! Including ones their noses can! They can detect some things as both taste and smell!
And apparently after the fifth cup of tea I was asking them what all sorts of things tasted for them and I could not tell you the answers because I should have stopped at my second. Except for one thing, I think whoever I asked was high as a kite too to accept it but I asked what I tasted like. Look I was really intoxicated as well. She said I tasted like I had vitamin deficiency? And… I don’t know, I know I never ate properly but how the hell do you tell that with your tongue?
Don’t feel it’d be very decent to ask that, though. You don’t make wise, or decent, decisions when you’re so out of your mind you get a thirty-hour hangover later.
As for the day, it’s been deployment drills and studying. But we did get to play with a few more toys between the drills and dinner, the unit got to test out (or well, make sure they were working) a bunch of fun-looking portable piston units, they also had a couple of plasma torches and a magnetic cutter (think a hydraulic cutter but instead of hydraulics it’s magnetism, looks silly but damn thing could cut through a support strut of a starship in half the time of a hydraulic). I, of course, didn’t get to play with any of those. They were built for zurulian bodies and according to the trainer if I ever were to work with the Fleet they’d just treat my body as another set of tools anyway. I mean I get it, nature gifted me a larger and stronger body than theirs, but he could have been less blunt about that.
Date: December 18th, 2136 Standard Terran Time - Day Five, Emergency
Soo… See how I’m being cute with titles? Look you’re lucky I’m writing in english and not japanese or else you’d be getting triple-sized titles, I love me some good titles. I wish I was talking about emergency response training here, however.
I’m a diligent man, I haven’t been skimping on preparing my official report, in fact a third of study time I’ve spent on writing the report. Super detailed, put as much as I damn well could in those, described every last bit of tech, hell I described the seating arrangements per specialty for deployment because apparently you can shave seconds off of deployment with the correct arrangement. Even included the fact it was faster for me to just carry the two guys on my lap out and drop them on top (yes on top) of the storage unit going to the surgery tent than to wait for there to be enough space for them to hop off.
So my official report is out. I’m going to write a second, too, about whatever else happens. I made a quick call to HQ and got the go ahead too. Earth’s gearing up to fight the feds but that doesn’t mean the rest of this old bullshit war isn’t going on. There’s been an arxur raid on a colony world, apparently a venlil colony, and we’re deploying. Sorry, I’m not going to just go back home and wait for the call to action when I can help something going on right now. Plus I know it’s been just five days but damn, I like those guys. I hope dealing with a raid aftermath isn’t going to break them.
excuseme, what. Sorry, I am currently on the lander shuttle as we make our way up to the Beacon of Hope. I was going to finish there and then but I heard it… Someone talking to the newest guy “You get used to it”. You get used to it? Did they do this that often? Or was he just trying to be nice?
Not the time to ask.
Date: December 19th, 2136 Standard Terran Time - Day Six, Stalking
The trip was fast. Alarmingly fast. I can tell the Beacon of Hope has probably the best FTL drive ever created or something like that. It was two thirds through the day when we got a message that we had arrived and were now on standby. And also, that I was being called up by the captain.
The trip to the bridge was surprising in two ways, the first because I didn’t need to bend down. The Beacon of Hope is built to accommodate even a Mazic in its interiors, and be able to work with an interspecies crew. The second was because of the austerity of the place as I expected a civilian ship to make some concessions, but any area that did not expect to see a patient was perfectly functional and wasteless in design. Only the patient areas seemed a bit more comfortable and even then, it seemed like it was more because of the patient’s needs.
The bridge was very much a spartan affair that took advantage of their species’ diminutive size, it was tucked closer to the center of the ship and was distressingly small despite the amount of staff present, though someone of a larger species (like me) could probably still do their job as an operator here but they’d probably have to do it laying down. Something that the layout of the chairs would seemingly permit. It was there that I met the captain, aliens might not be much for clothes, but they’ve right up there with us with hats. The only identifier he had was the rather classy dark blue hat which is apparently the base of the design of any air force hat in the galaxy too, I guess some pieces of design are universal. Later that day I had time to ask around, and it seems like their space military splintered off of their air force, unlike the navy back on earth.
And the captain told me some very, very impressive information. And some very distressing as well. First off, we had arrived before the Arxur, which in itself was baffling because I thought we had responded to an attack. Nope! It was an early detection system. I asked him, then, if we were so early why wasn’t a defense fleet instead of us? “I don’t know. And I’m afraid of knowing” At that point I dropped that line of questions, I guess it got pretty obvious, huhn? Then what’d he need me for, I asked. He was blunt, me being a predator, and a trained killer at that, he wanted advice.
I might have been a bit annoyed at the wording, but the captain of the most advanced, and genuinely unarmed, hospital ship I had ever seen asking me advice like that? What even was going on? He explained to me that we were hiding in the shadow of a planet close to the colony, directly opposite of where the arrival point of the Arxur fleet should be, and showed me the map. He knew I wasn’t a naval officer but if I had anything, if anything in my training, if anything in my instincts could help, anything to make sure the mission would work more smoothly.
Were we doing an evacuation? Not with just this ship. VIP extraction? First Response doesn’t do priorities like those. Dropping support for ground troops? What ground troops. No, we had no way to aid during the actual raid, this was the direct opposite of a warship. But the very second the cannibals left they were going to start dropping shuttles, every last moment counted and if that meant arriving before the threat it meant arriving before the threat.
I mean, I got nothing. I told him I got nothing, none of my training worked here and I couldn’t just summon some magical foresight to help. To which, he was grateful. Told me it was an assurance of a trained soldier couldn’t find flaw in the plans of ‘an old retired pediatrician’ and i’m absolutely fucking sorry?
At that point I had to ask, are they military? Oh no, they’re not. While sure the FRF was part of the military organization, it had no need for soldiers since it was basically just a large mobile hospital. Those were all civilians, including him.
Now, if any of my fellow humans catch this document when it’s still relevant or anyone at all a hundred years from now, I want you to consider what the average military competency of the federation species is like. They’d fall prey to the dumbest fucking ambush and if I remember right even the Arxur were pissing their fucking scales at a simple fighting retreat. Those people have been fighting longer than some countries have existed on earth and they got no idea how to wage war. And here was this ‘old pediatrician’ pulling some fucking grand admiral moves because his only focus was getting medical aid down on planet as fast as possible.
I waited to get back to my room to wait before I lost it. But still, we had a mission ahead of us and we’d need to prepare.
Date: December 21th, 2136 Standard Terran Time - Day Eight, Fieldwork
Don’t have much time to write, there’s a lot of work to be done but I think I can skimp a few minutes of sleep for this, using voice to text for this one. I guess mumbling might help me sleep, too. We just landed, guys got deployment down to six minutes. Fuck, unit back home couldn’t move this fast with this coordination. Shit, they probably do those very often don’t they?
Each lander shuttle went to a different place, we’ve all got a huge area to cover with our shuttle’s crew. Flagship dropped a few comm buoys up there, we got a temporary planetary cover for the comms. Dunno how the fuck the shuttle slipped down when it did, last croc ship wasn’t even done taking off when we hit the ground, also the pilot’s a fucking maniac. Miles wishes he could pull a deceleration at that low height without splashing.
Fuck my feet. Fuck my legs. Fuck my back, everything hurts. Three guys stayed behind in the triage tent, two in the surgery tent, one on the radio, everyone else got to go out searching for people in pairs. They use this fancy headset thing with data feed from the flagship, scans for life signs, real advanced. Not perfect precision, though, still needs the people on the ground to cover the last hundred meters of range. “Well, that’s leftovers” fucking dark humor at this point. Fuck. We were going towards a lifesign marker when we ran into a corpse.
Right. Funny thing here, this is a federation world. Yeah I know I said it was a venlil colony but seems like not every colony split off from the feds when the republic did, makes sense. Don’t matter for those sons of bitches, someone need help they come for you. That was a venlil body, burning wreckage of a toppled building, half-eaten.
Fuck i’ve seen the worst goddamn wounds, saw people missing limbs, shit… Y’all of my unit on earth remember the Placido thing, right? So much fire. Y’all remember the smell of the burning bodies, don’t you? Saw some sick shit in the past but this? Seeing a half-eaten person?
And teddy bear says that damn joke. Pulled me outta the shock, at least… Wasn’t the first time they had to say that, was it? Wasn’t long until we hit that lifesign, though. Venlil kid, panicking the hell out when he saw me, bleeding like a fountain from a cut on the shoulder and side. Tried to calm the kid down, and what happens? Teddy bear just comes out of no fucking where and jabs something in the kid’s neck and they’re out like a light. We called for a recovery there.
Have you ever seen a motorcycle ambulance? How about a hovercycle ambulance? Yeah, shuttle had one as part of the gear, it’s a kinda funny piece of kit. Super tight to be a normal ambulance, but a zurulian can fit in there right fine with a patient, it’s got some magical gyro-stabilization because no way it could speed off like it did and fucking fly over a pile of debris like that without killing the ride, to say nothing of the patient. But fuck, I read the specs of the thing while we were taking the shuttle down, they’re written in the cockpit. Thing could apparently hit supersonic speed with a set of secondary thrusters it has, it wouldn’t do it for long because that’d melt the engine down completely but it could. Who the fuck puts that fucking speed on an ambulance?
You can see I’m lacking adjectives at this point? Because this is all so absurd. The recovery vehicle, that’s what it’s called, grabbed the kid and sped the hell off. “No bedside manners for us, let’s go” is all my partner said when we started heading for the next life sign. We had people who’d barricaded themselves in furniture and underground and couldn’t get back out, people who’d given up a limb to hide in a tight squeeze.
The worst were the ones that… They were still begging for help, ‘unfinished meals’ the fucking teddy said. How do you get so callous? Only from seeing this too much. Fuck is that what being a veteran in this job is? Dealing with this fucking horrorshow so much you get like that? But still, if their heart is beating it’s good enough, even those ones got help. I took a ride in the recovery vehicle with one of those.
Krakotl, it was. Don’t matter how much you hate the birds, you see one like that, torn open and half eaten begging to god to have one more second in this universe… You ain’t human if you can still hate. Idiot lizard decided to have a meal mid-bombardment, it looks like, building collapsed on him and pinned his body on the bird. I pulled the stone out of the bird, my partner dragged the arxur carcass out of the way, there was so much blood. You’d think that them not bleeding red makes it feel less like blood, it doesn’t. Sealant gel applied to the open blood vessels, beautiful thing that gel, it can basically serve as a physical barrier to prevent blood loss and it can be removed safely, and we wrapped them in a sealing blanket.
Sealing blankets are amazing emergency devices. They’re stored in this plastic bag because they need to remain wet, but you warp the patient in it and it constricts with just enough pressure to do what you need it to (there’s a control for it), in this case keeping the bird’s insides on the inside, and it’s soaked in a cocktail of antiseptics and painkillers that work for just about any species. It’s more than just soaked, even, the material it’s made of actually very slowly dispenses a low dosage of the fluids it absorbed serving basically like an IV drip in this situation. When the recovery vehicle arrived I tapped out, as they say. I’d accompany the patient to the base and take a moment to refresh myself before outing again in the next recovery vehicle call.
I’d like to say it was a wild fucking ride. But I didn’t even feel it, thing must have ship-class inertial dampeners somehow. They spared no expense for this fast rescue vehicle. And by the heavens that driver, I haven’t been around the pilot and the driver much since they had some separate training but this driver? Straight. Line. He’d only make a curve if going over an obstacle would take longer than around because he was not increasing the length of the trip by a single meter.
Also, the stretcher the poor bird was in? Gravity sledge. You heard that right, you know how costly and difficult miniaturized anti-gravity is, it doesn’t work without a much higher attached computational power than an object that size can handle. I bet it was receiving assistance from the vehicle. Moving them to the triage tent was easy, didn’t think there’d be much need for triage, mind, but that was the procedure. Full sensor suite you’d find at the best hospitals with three VR control sets to be able to perform multiple operations at once, I didn’t even think those things were mobile. The three on triage had a full readout on the bird in seconds, hear that seconds. So I did the last part of my job and wheeled the patient to the surgery tent with the report.
One thing I didn’t mention before is the fire. This wasn’t a farming colony, this is an extraction colony, they were pulling some manner of chemicals from the ground here and refining it. This place where we’re at mostly stored things, mind… Very flammable things. After the damn crocs were done being murderous psychopathic cannibals on the ground they decided to destroy everything just in case, of course the aftermath of dropping bombs on highly flammable storages is rampant fires. Just so you have an idea of the backdrop.
I got a bit of a chance to wash up after that patient, the boss (he’s apparently the most senior, in veterancy) ordered me to take a rest. So I took the chance to fish my soap from my personal belongings (we all got a bit of space to carry personal stuff down) and take a quick wash before sitting down here to take a nap.
Date: December 25th, 2136 Standard Terran Time - Day Twelve, Fieldwork
What a christmas gift, eh? Playing heavy machinery in a nightmare. Been putting less of my first aid skills and more of my muscles to use and I don’t blame them for it, the heavy duty tools are all showing signs of wear by now, and I can replace them with my hands for some uses. They’ve got plenty of people that can stabilize a patient, they don’t have many tools.
I asked around a bit how long we were planning to stay, and whether there was a bigger relief fleet coming. “Until everyone’s saved” was the first answer and “Nobody knows” was the second. After all, this is ostensibly a Federation planet, and we were waiting on one of their relief fleets to show up. My next question was about, how long did we have supplies for, and the Beacon of Hope came geared for 30 days of operation with six ground crews. We had eighteen ground crews going, because the damage was extensive across the entire planet.
We had a third of the supplies we would normally have, and I’d be insulted if they didn’t start rationing supplies between ground crews. If the situation was this dire they’d have to make decisions about where their supplies would be best spent. Please heavens, let this place be a priority, I don’t want to teach those poor teddy bears how to do low-tech lifesaving.
So for now, we need to go easy on our tools to keep having them, and as luck would have it I’ve got enough physical capacity to replace them in about a third of their use cases. So for the last two days I’ve grown pretty accustomed to the recovery vehicle as I get moved from one place to another to move debris and carry things.
I’ve also noticed everyone seems a bit more relaxed when I’m around sometimes. Though I’ve the impression it isn’t quite my presence itself, that tends to happen right before I go take a nap. I don’t mind the weirdness, whatever helps those guys. They’re making me question the way everyone hypes up human stamina because they’re keeping right the hell up with my work shifts.
Date: December 28th, 2136 Standard Terran Time - Day Fifteen, Starvation
Well, that was the call I was hoping we wouldn’t have. Right when what we’ve started finding more and more is the deeply wounded and the infected.
We’ve been on the ground for twelve days, chances of survival of anyone at this point is minimal, but minimal isn’t zero and that’s good enough to keep working. Unfortunately, there are other ground crews in bigger population areas, which means a higher volume of minimal chances, which means they get the resource allocations.
The power generator should be good, each one lasts the full month so that won’t be a problem. But most of our miracle medicine will start having to be rationed, also the hydraulic lifters gave up the ghost. Not like they were bad but it was simply from excess of use, my back knows the feeling at this point.
We’re going to run out of antiseptics in three to five days if we keep going at this rate, as well. Hopefully we should have saved everyone that we can at that point. But there was a small miracle, or rather, there was a small underestimation on my part.
I thought I’d have to teach those guys how to save a life without their spacer tech and miracle medicines when we ran out of stitch-gel. Stitch-gel is a rapid-clotting agent that effectively serves as instant stitches, it’s amazing. And we ran out of it the soonest. Then a woman with a horrifying neck wound was brought in, gal went down fucking fighting she did, don’t know how she took down her would-be killer the beast’s claws were still dangling from her neck. The fuck kind of movie hero was she? But the moment we’d remove the damn things (also did I mention her lower body was burned? She definitely wasn’t moving on her own, those legs are gone) she’d bleed to death and there’d be nothing to do about it.
And here’s where I underestimated them. She was taken out of the surgery tent and got to the next shuttle to the Beacon, she certainly bled a lot but she did not bleed to death. The surgeon had opted to, instead of bringing anything personal like me, pack additional supplies as his personal items. Like a fucking mile of biodegradable stitching string and a whole ass set of needles, plus some weaker over-the-counter painkillers.
I thought I’d have to teach them how to handle some primitive medicine, but they came readier for it than I did. They knew they’d be sitting here until they ran out of resources. They gave up any possible nicety they could have brought to buy a few more days worth of supplies.
I’d say I was ashamed of my choices but I don’t think I am. I realized why they kind of gather around me before I take a nap- It’s not the nap, it’s my soap. I brought a mint-scented one, you know, when you can bring some niceties to help your mind in the field you do. Turns out the scent is doing some wonders for their mental health.
Pfft, big muscles and smelling nice, that’s what i’m doing right now. I’m cool with it, people often forget the effect some small things missing can have on a bigger operation. Dude done did an open heart surgery in the middle of a fucking field hospital to save a life, he deserves to take a good nap.
There’s something else but i’m not sure if I should say it. I know, history and all, but do I want people to remember this happened?
---
[Part 2]
Okay so I got an immense surge of inspiration to write this one. Mostly also 'cause i'm a little tired of the only depictions of our allies out there being their failures, I mean sure it's a great narrative driver but it gets a exhausting a bit.
Plus i've also been trying to writre something in the vein of this for like two months at this point so I changed format and story while keeping the important parts. And it seems i'll have to split it in two parts because I hit Reddit's limit.
submitted by JulianSkies to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 19:52 wabberjockybrah Is it common baristas to get my order wrong

Im an avid customer at starbucks since i accompany my relative to the clinic for weekly treatments. And theres a starbucks nearby.
My favorite a quad-americano (medium sized mug with extra shot espresso). I understand to avoid rush hour. But half the time with little customers Im just getting black pour over coffee…
When my relative was hospitalized the hospital has a petes coffee. And over half the time i get a pour over coffee with 1 shot espresso. Than a quad shot over hot water.
It’s frustrating, I am tipping on the machine before my order being made. I dont talk as much as other people. But i find it frustrating im paying extra and giving tip, but the order half the time comes out wrong. Is baristas doing this to make job easier ?
submitted by wabberjockybrah to Coffee [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 19:45 marshmallow_mouse How do I leave this hell

I have been chronically in depersonalisation and derealisation since age 15, I’m now 24 nearly 25. I’ve been going to hospitals and doctors for depression, bipolar, psychosis and autism for years. But I came across this disorder today, and it all slotted into place. I have a very stressful traumatic time at 15 and I shut down from emotions and life. I went from having friends and high grades to failing out of school and spending all my time alone with no friends struggling to focus on the Xbox. In the past years I’ve tried jobs, education, but I just can’t focus or remember anything. My brain feels like it’s made of cotton. It hurts to try and use it. Please help me, how do I return to reality?
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2023.05.28 19:43 Accomplished_Goal763 Chronic migraine going on 10 years. Medication (CGRP) starting to become less effective. What works for you?

Hi. I was diagnosed with chronic migraine when I was 28. I woke up with a migraine one morning that never went away. I went to the hospital over 40 times the first year. I was pumped full of fluids, IV opioids, Reglan, Magnesium, D.H.E. 45, triptans, Zofran, and Fioricet. I tried Depakote, amitriptyline, Topamax, birth control pills, propranolol, and many more “preventatives.” I developed a severe dependence on the IV opioids and had to be hospitalized for detox. I never had a single day without a migraine for 5 years, with only about 2-3 hours of relief at any point in time when they would administer Dilaudid. I went to sign up for a study for CGRP medications that had not hit the market yet at the time. So there were no CGRP meds at the time available at all. I was not approved for the study but was told the medication would hit the market “in a couple years.” So I waited and then one day I went into my neurologist’s office and was ready to give up when he handed me a sample of Aimovig. I immediately administered it in his office and was desperate for it to work. I started to feel better the next day it seemed. With each day, I started to feel like a normal person again. I got off opioids, off disability, got a job, started a small business… and then about a year ago I started to have more than 5 breakthrough migraines per month again. We went up on the Aimovig, and it calmed down a bit. Now the Aimovig seems to not be working as well once again as I am having pretty frequent migraines again and they are intense. I started to use some Fioricet again but my doctor is very weary of prescribing it. I also have a hard time remembering things and work is difficult from the side effects but I can’t work at all with the migraines. I’ve tried Nurtec and it did not work for me at all. Anyone have any experience with CGRP medications and what has been your experience? Is Qulipta or Ajovy any different from Aimovig? What do you use for breakthrough migraines? What has been your chronic migraine experience?
submitted by Accomplished_Goal763 to migraine [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 19:08 ProposalEcstatic3944 Urgent Injured Dog Needs Foster in Mississippi

Urgent Injured Dog Needs Foster in Mississippi
Original post
Brandon Mississippi
FOSTER & RESCUE OR AMAZING ADOPTER FOR SHELBY 💕🐾🙏
I AM AMAZED!!!!
Look at what a great job Dr. Leach did! I’m glad he chose veterinary care but it looks like he also could’ve been a plastic surgeon.
Shelby is now looking for a foster to keep her safe during her recovery. She is such a sweet girl and I hate to leave her in a small indoor crate without much room to move around with that cone. I work so much and don’t have the time or yard that she will need.
Thank you thank you thank you for the outpouring of support for her! 🤗💕🤗💕🤗
She still has a good bit of recovering to do but she wouldn’t have been able to have the surgery without your support.  thank you doesn’t seem like enough but I mean it from the bottom of my heart!
 If you would like to be Shelby‘s foster angel please reach out to me 🙏
Brandon, MS and surrounding areas
Thank you Forest Animal Hospital
To foster contact Julie Clark using link below.
https://www.facebook.com/julie.clark.520562?mibextid=LQQJ4d
submitted by ProposalEcstatic3944 to rescuedogs [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 19:06 Remarkable-Dress-997 No good qualities

I’m physically and emotionally fucked. My legs have been carrying around a corpse for about 29 years now. I can’t tell what my emotions are and according to my therapist, all of my friendships are superficial. I haven’t loved or even liked myself since I was 16. I just feel dead inside. I haven’t had a relationship at all in my life. I’m stuck between wanting to destroy this world and wanting to destroy myself. My parents were neglectful and my father abused me. I’ve been to two mental hospitals for attempted suicide. I feel like I’m stuck in an endless wall of smoke with no way out, no matter how far I walk. I don’t have a college education or a good paying job. Everyday I fall a little bit deeper into this void called despair. Most nights I have to do copious amount of weed just to laugh or feel anything. It also helps with not painting the walls in my room like Pablo Picasso with my brain. My self confidence is at an all time low because my brain tells me that I’m a 2/10 every time I look at the mirror. Even with friends and family constantly around me, I feel truly alone and it’s starting to cripple me.
submitted by Remarkable-Dress-997 to IHateMyself [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 18:59 Chalkarts The Manifesto of Meh.

I wrote this after a brief exchange here and wanted to share it. It is my hope to bring some peace of mind to the community. Amongst you there will be eyerolls and those who just cannot accept this philosophy, I expect that. But, in the spirit of this entry, meh. I hope some of you see the value.

Meh is regimented Apathy.
It’s a method of acceptance and effortless living.
If you find yourself in an unfortunate situation, or emotionally hurt or rejected, fall back on the 10 year rule of Meh. If it’s not going to be important enough to affect your life 10 years from now, then it’s not important now. Flunking out of college will affect your future, throw a little effort at it. Some girl at the bar turning you down, meh. In ten years you won’t even remember that she existed.
Only 3 things really matter at the end of the day.
Hospitals, Homelessness, and Prison.
Avoid those 3 things and the rest is window dressing.
Your wardrobe isn’t important. High fashion is high effort. Dress comfy, the only people that care about your shoes are people who spent too much on theirs. Have fun, doing the things you enjoy doing, and don’t make anyone's day worse in the process.
This isn’t nihilism. This isn’t saying “nothing ever matters”.
Those 3 things matter most and a great many things go into avoiding them therefore matter by association.
For example, in the case of Homelessness, your job.
Your job matters because it helps to prevent you from becoming homeless. In most cases, Income is necessary for housing. Therefore, maintain hygiene, go to work, and play the silly game where you pretend that your coworkers are interesting and you enjoy being there. Then you go home and forget the job until you have to remember it again. Turn off your phone, get a faraday bag if you have the means. They can’t bug you if you disconnect. If your job demands you be available 24/7, it’s not a job. That’s indentured servitude.
A cleanish house matters because filth can lead to an infestation which can lead to eviction. If your landlord does inspections and sees a pile of dirty take out containers overflowing the trash can beside the couch, they may not renew your lease. Don’t leave food lying around.
Familial relationships can also be important for preventing the loss of housing. If possible, be at least on friendly terms with some family members. If the universe tries to knock you down(it will), have a couch to fall back on.
Avoiding hospitals can be more difficult because emergencies happen. The universe may decide to relabel out of date sushi, or hit you with an SUV, but those are things that you can’t control and must be endured. Meh doesn’t have the power to overcome a shattered spine, you’ll need to care about that one.
Avoiding hospitals is more about not doing unnecessarily hazardous things.
“I wonder if it would be fun to go for a jog through this dog park wearing a meat suit?”
Don’t do stupid dangerous shit. Don’t try to beat the yellow at the intersection, or jaywalk across a 5-lane. If you see an angry mob coming your direction, get out of the way. Those people have no Meh.
Staying out of prison should be the easiest of the big three to manage.
Just, Don’t do crime.
No one really cares if you smoke weed.(depending on location) Very few people consider that crime any more. But know your limits. Don’t smoke while on a stroll through the park or at the grocery store.
Don’t do REAL crime. If it’s not your stuff, leave it alone. Don’t hurt people that don’t hurt you first(Physically. emotional harm falls under the umbrella of meh.) Just stay off of the radar and out of the system as much as you can. When the cop randomly runs your ID, try and make his screen come up blank or boring.
Particularly avoid doing things that double or triple up.
“Imma spend all my money on this car, race it at 150mph through town, and plow it into a tree.” You are now in the hospital, broke and without transportation which will leave you homeless, and the cops want to have a talk when you wake up...You did this to you.
Beyond those scenarios, Meh.
Don’t waste effort, physical or mental, on things that don’t matter.
A coin is the ultimate expression of meh.
What do I want for lunch, Mexican or Burgers? *plink* Heads, Mexican it is. I keep an old Eisenhower dollar coin I found in my wallet at all times just for meaningless decisions.
If you don’t make anyone’s day worse by being you people may not flock to you but they’ll probably accept you. “Yeah, that’s Dave, he’s alright.” is superior to “Ugh, Dave's coming, let's go.” It takes more effort to ruin someone's day than it does to just nod, smile, and walk on by. You don’t need to make small talk, just look busy enough to be left alone.
Once you’ve fulfilled the bare minimum requirements to avoid being homeless, hospitalized, or imprisoned, you’re good. Do fun stuff. Whatever your fun stuff is, games, museums, clog dancing with dogs, it’s all good. As long as you are harming no one with the results of your actions, Meh. Find the places where the fun stuff lives. Go to those places. No more effort is required. Go to those places often enough, the other people there will come to know you. Once they’ve come to know you, do something to make their day better, no matter how miniscule, and they’ll come to love you.
Go to the craft aisle for a second while you’re at the store already, get a cheap bulk sheet of peel and stick googly eyes. Cut it up into pairs, and just hand 'em out at work or school. It will brighten peoples day for an insignificant amount of effort.
Is it buying friends? Kinda, but for .05 per person, it’s pretty affordable to see who sticks around.
They may not bang you, but you won’t be alone.
We live in an era of unprecedented connection, yet feel entirely disconnected. Meh, let the good times roll and see who they bounce off of.
It's philosophy that has served me well for 30 years. I recently read about Bai Lan(let it rot) and had to laugh. Many Chinese youth have weaponized Meh as a way to invoke social change. When I first read it I thought, "I've been doing that for decades. Mehehe"
I hope this helps someone here.
submitted by Chalkarts to ForeverAlone [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 18:59 newgirl222 What was ur “rock bottom” moment?

One the things that interests Me the most when hearing stories in AA is their rock bottom . My rock bottom wasn’t when i lost my job due to my drinking , it wasn’t when i was hospitalized for the first time because of my drinking, it wasn’t when i lost the best relationship with a wonderful guy because i woke up in a black out with another person. It wasn’t when my parents were crying trying to wake me up from almost alcohol poisoning. It was when after a relapse after 11 months sober , and being out for 3 months , i had been consistently drinking , calling of work , disappointing my parents again. Not that it mattered to me before but i woke up on a work day from a black out . I realized that i had left my gym bag at the gym overnight because i left in a very horrible state . i called off work and i ubered myself to the gym at 7 in the morning , picked up my bag and walked to the liquor store and could barely put my card in the machine from the trembling, the cashier giving me the saddest look as i didn’t look like the normal 26 yr old F. i walked out and took the first few shots praying they would stay down I looked around where i was and noticed a McDonald’s. I then realized …. I don’t remember the last time i ate food? I checked my phone and saw that the last time i ate food was Tuesday morning …. And it was Friday at 8am … i quickly ran to the McDonald’s and ordered a breakfast sandwich and orange juice . But i sat down to eat it i noticed people moved away from me … when was the last time i showered?? Took my food to go and walked to the park where i started drinking my bottle i planned to drink for the rest of the day . But as i looked at my phone with dozens of texts and calls from my mom asking where i was … the desperation in her voice . I looked at my bottle and i felt sick . I felt disgusted with myself and for the first time . I didn’t want to drink anymore
submitted by newgirl222 to alcoholicsanonymous [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 18:58 I_Am_Me_Thats_All I Hope the NDP Win But Can Not Vote For Them

I consider myself a centrist. Anyone who listens to West of Centre will know of Janet Brown's 'Orphaned Voters'. That is me.
I believe in general fiscal conservationism but with good funding to schools, hospitals, and parks (but not big companies). I also believe in letting people be themselves - let LGBTQ+ people be who they are. I am very pro-choice. But I also believe in personal responsibility and abhor people who 'blame' their situation in life on others. I had a totally s**t childhood that involved living in provincial care and neglect. I took responsibility for my life, chose not to do drugs or be a victim and made a good middle class life for myself.
I can not vote UCP because of their totally hard right BS and the bat-s**t crazy leader. Full stop - no vote for them until they become Progressive Conservatives again.
But I also can not vote NDP. Too much indulgence of the victim mentality and not willing to make people responsible for their own bad choices. I believe we should offer help to anyone who both needs it and will benefit from it, but I also believe many people in our society abuse this. Although federal, sitting on UI when jobs are available is a perfect example of this.
I believe mental health and drug use is the number one issue in our Western societies, and believe those in need require strong treatment options and help, but also know that for many they are not ready for that and for those mandatory treatment is needed. The cost on society of mental health and drug related crime and social disorder is too much.
To me, the NDP is too understanding of people who continue to make bad choices and in doing so actually encourages and promotes the making of those bad choices. Or to put it another way, being too understanding actually hurts people even more. Some who read this may say I am uncaring and hard, but that is not understanding what I am saying. What I am saying is that there is also a need for 'tough love', not brutal and not demeaning, but making people actually pay the price of their own repeated bad decisions as a way to learn not to make those decisions again.
Economically I do not like the carbon tax as I prefer carrots to sticks, but the Alberta carbon tax by the NDP was too hard on the middle class - the federal one is at least a bit better in that regard. Economically I also feel people need to have hope for a better future and raising wages not shareholder profits is the best way to that. If people had hope many social issues would decrease. Yet the NDP will only raise minimum wages, not middle class wages.
Economically, the UCP ignore the poor, take form the middle class to make the rich richer. The NDP take from the middle class and give half to the poor and half to the rich. Either way I lose.
So who do I vote for tomorrow? I'm still not sure. I would vote Rhino party as a protest if they were provincial, but without that option I might decline my vote. Still not sure. What I really want is a true centrist party: fiscally generally conservative, socially generally progressive (LGBTQ+, pro-choice, etc) but also aware of and taking strong steps against mental health issues, drug crime and social disorder.
submitted by I_Am_Me_Thats_All to alberta [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 18:49 Zkoondawg AITA for asking my mom to stop hurting my feelings in a way that makes her feel bad?

Trigger Warning: suicide Lots of context for this one, this first paragraph can be skipped as it just adds context to the current situation. All throughout my childhood I’ve never felt like I’ve had a voice, anything I said or did that wasn’t aligned with what my parents wished was because I was purposefully rebelling (since about 7th grade when I got my first C), I had major depression and immensely low self-esteem pretty much my entire life until recently (I’m 22 now). I graduated high in my highschool class with honors because it’s what they wanted. I went to a school 600 miles away out of state for a major I was passively interested in because it’s what they wanted. After Covid hit I came back home and barely passed my classes that semester (2nd semester overall) because of recurring depression and what was going on in the world, not to mention how thrown-together learning online was at the time. I was blamed heavily for that and was told I was lazy and if I wanted to be successful I’d pull myself up by my bootstraps, that kind of thing. After going back to school in person for a third semester about halfway through my cousin committed suicide (something I was considering at the time) and it broke me. I stopped going to class, barely went to work, and pretty much just sat in my room staring at my ceiling until I had enough and came home, dropping out. My parents were somewhat understanding but after telling them I didn’t like my major (aerospace engineering) they told me that I could go to a local school for a different major (they suggested mechanical engineering, something I still had no interest in). Around this time I saw a therapist that had convinced me my mom is a narcissist, I ended up moving out and going no contact for about a year, ended up homeless, then about a month and a half into living in my car I got into an accident and totaled it. I had no one to call except my parents and my dad came and got me. I had said some pretty awful shit to my mom in that year so it was extremely awkward, at that time I was pretty deep into what I think was a psychosis so when we got home, I argued with my mom and asked to just stay until I can move out again, hoping it would just be a couple weeks. They told me I could sleep in the garage on an air mattress and about an hour into moving what I had in there I broke down and started tying a noose. I called 911 so I could go to a mental hospital to get away. I stayed at one for a few days before coming back, my parents were mortified at what happened and promised to be more conscientious of my mental health and were sorry for not noticing my depression sooner (I had told them multiple times I was depressed to which they told me to just come out of my room and hang out with them). They eventually got me a job with them and I’m saving up to get a car and be financially independent again.
Ever since I moved back in with my parents my mom has been making passive aggressive comments about anything she disproves of (for those who didn’t read the first paragraph I’m 22 and pay my own bills, living with my parents until I can afford a car and move out for the second and hopefully final time). These comments are mainly focused around 3 things: me playing video games, me ordering things on Amazon, and me not hanging out with them enough. For example I go and make my dinner and then bring it into my room to eat so I can watch what I want to watch and on my way she’ll blurt out “it’d be great if you would not go into your cave and pretend you like your family.” I usually just brush these comments off, but yesterday I had enough.
We’re on vacation with some family friends and we had spent the last few days hanging out with them basically all the time, I told her I didn’t want to hangout that night and just relax in the hotel. She seemingly didn’t have a problem with that and on the way to dropping me off at the hotel I apologized and said my social battery was low, she said “yeah I’m sure holing up in your room playing videogames all day keeps you from socializing in the real world too much” this got under my skin as I have a full time physically intensive job and like to do what I want when I get home, whether she approves or not.
I told her in a sarcastic way “yeah that’s how that works, you sitting on the couch and watching tv all day is super different.” She took great offense to this and asked why I was being so mean to her and why I felt like I had to defend myself against her when she loved me so much. I told her because she was hurting my feelings and could communicate her opinion in a more constructive way rather than making passive aggressive comments. She got super pissed and that’s when we got to the hotel and she told me to get out. Later that night her and my dad came back and I asked if she wanted to talk about what happened. She basically told me she’s always the villain and it’s always about my feelings and not hers. I make her invalid and that since she’s my mom it’s ridiculous to ask her to not say something when she’s worried about me. I told her that I felt the same way about always being villainess and that if she wanted to talk to me about something like that there’s far better ways to do it than hurting each others feelings through passive aggressive comments. I recommended we should go to therapy and she blamed me for why we haven’t gone already. I again said that it’s up to her, I’m trying to save up for a car and can’t afford that right now, she’ll have to make the appointment and pay for it.
The whole situation makes me feel conflicted because my parents don’t seem interested in compromising to make our relationship work, but I love them both so much and don’t know what to do to not be miserable. Both my mom and my dad agree that I cause most of the problems and they’re just worried about me. Am I the asshole here and exaggerating like they tell me?
submitted by Zkoondawg to AITAH [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 18:46 ScalawagHerder 73 year old Vietnam war vet with stage 3 cancer and wife scammed

I’m trying to help my parents who were just scammed. They drained all their accounts thinking that their computer IP was hacked and was used to purchase $10k in child porn and the authorities would be at their door any moment. My dad was just diagnosed a couple weeks ago with stage 3 cancer and just started radiation treatment this week. My dad is weak and my mom is exhausted from traveling back and forth from the VA hospital. I live in another state and I’m not sure how to help them. My mother wired money from a kiosk and says she doesn’t have a receipt. I had her call money gram but they aren’t able to help her without that information. She also used her credit cards to buy Home Depot gift cards and sent the person the numbers on the cards. I’m having her call her card companies. I’m also having her call her bank. She doesn’t know how she’s going to pay their bills. I’m not in the financial place to help them. What else can I do? My dad is set to start chemo and radiation this week and they aren’t going to be able to afford anything for his treatment as well as just day to day living. Help!
submitted by ScalawagHerder to Scams [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 18:30 Green_Opportunity_34 Update on Dangerous Coworker

I posted a few days ago about my coworker, a new tech on my med surg floor, who is a pervert and also practices outside his scope. He got fired the other day. They just took him off the schedule and then told him he was being let go. Apparently he had been flushing people’s ivs???
It gets worse. After being fired, he took his badge and scrubs and went to the ICU saying he was a student nurse associate floating from another floor to help out. They caught him in this lie and he is now banned from our hospital but everyone is scared he will come back and hurt someone. Security and the police are aware. Also found out he lied about being a coreman. Additionally, he said he was a licensed CNA which is also not true and has never been true. The worst part is this unhinged bastard will probably get another job in one of the other hospitals, if not here then somewhere else.
submitted by Green_Opportunity_34 to nursing [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 17:12 frugaldreams Learned a new fun fact yesterday.

My husband left his job at an unnamed hospital. He is in not great health so we wanted to take his life insurance policy with us because no company would issue him a new policy. This was incredibly difficult.
The company wouldn’t (and still won’t) let us pay online. Payments were “delayed”. HR was no help. Neither was the insurance company. We finally penetrated the bureaucracy and figured out how to get them to accept our premium payments. We now have to go old school and send them an actual check every quarter.
I work at a different company with similar benefits. I was talking with my friend who works with our union and mediates with the benefits council. Yesterday I learned why the difficulty carrying the policy over.
Our employer, his former employer and most large corporations offer employees life insurance. Ours in really generous, which is unusual. We’ve never had to fight for good life insurance coverage. We get $250,000 to $500,000 in coverage, depending on health factors.
It turns out, most folks drop that coverage when they leave a given employer. They either have their own insurance or just opt into the next plan at the new employer. Well, because the employer also pays into that benefit when you leave they have to option to take over the full premium if you don’t carry the policy with you. Which they generally do.
Why? Because even though you aren’t an employee you are still a good investment. They quietly pay the premium until you die and then collect. My company has over 17,000 current employees and is one of the largest employers in our state. Former employees dying is literally a revenue stream for them. That is why they are so “generous” with the benefit.
My husband had two heart attacks in a single year. They made it difficult for us to get and maintain his work policy because he is a $250,000 payout that is likely to happen sooner rather than later.
I suspect the checks work for payment because the nameless minimum wage worker who opens envelopes all day just puts it into that days’s deposit and it doesn’t ping any electronic flags.
I am not surprised this is legal but it is completely despicable.
submitted by frugaldreams to antiwork [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 17:08 No_Country3632 Housekeeping and the lack there of

 I am fairly new to the hotel industry, but have always been in the customer service field. Okay here’s the thing, in all of the years I have ever held a job, I have never seen an employee act this way and still be employed. The head housekeeper(HHK), if you can even call her that, doesn’t do a damn thing!!! Where I work, there’s 57 rooms all together, 3 separate buildings, each building has 2 stories. Its shouldn’t be an impossible task for the housekeeping staff. We have two, plus the HHK. On days that are fairly busy, we can have up to 23 departures. But normally, we average around 16 give or take. She’s been here for almost a year, but I don’t know how she even kept it that long. And the way she talks to our boss is so shockingly rude and disrespectful, I’d have fired her on the spot! She’s condescending to the staff, belittling, honestly just a complete bitch. (She tried pulling her shit with me but I put her in her place but at the same time, I cannot afford to lose my job.) There’s never enough laundry. I’m always scouring the property to get towels for guests, or basic supplies that go in the rooms like bars of soap and coffee. Her job is to make sure that what I just mentioned doesn’t happen. My boss is a really good boss, but for some reason, doesn’t put his foot down when it comes to this gal. It just blows me away that this is an ongoing issue. Yeah, I get that the hospitality industry has a major problem with being short staffed and the turnover rate is very high but that is still not an excuse!! I hate getting in the middle of shit but I’ve seen a number of housekeepers get hired and then they quit and blatantly say that it’s because of her. The owner of the place is 3-4 hours away from here and this hotel isn’t the only place he owns…how can I fix this situation? Or do I even attempt to do so? 
submitted by No_Country3632 to TalesFromTheFrontDesk [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 16:41 kadkadkad08 Dating & CPTSD - Rational expression of how it feels

I recently started dating someone, the dates have been great and I feel so safe/secure in-person. He’s also a physician finishing his residency (30) so he does get busy and has a post work work out/cool down routine. I can’t imagine working in a hospital as I am someone (33) in tech who works remotely. I tend to not hear from him for periods of time which I assume is his job but of course my body feels otherwise. I am rational to know it’s early into seeing each othedemanding work but it really twists my tiddies when I don’t hear from him regularly. It’s a full body feeling like I feel like I am going through a break up whilst having future plans. It really, really wears on me.
I then go into, is it not the right person or is it just ALL THIS MENTAL ILLNESS?
Other than this being a subtle dating advice question - more so how do you handle this? Are their coping mechanisms? Or get a whole ass new man?
submitted by kadkadkad08 to CPTSD [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 16:40 jor3lofkrypton Speaker Kevin McCarthy: Why Are YOU Negotiating With Hostage Takers?

Speaker Kevin McCarthy: Why Are YOU Negotiating With Hostage Takers? submitted by jor3lofkrypton to PoliticalMemes [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 16:39 girl_from_the_crypt Stuck on earth and looking for a job: So this is what government work is like...

My savior human is distraught. I alone would have trouble enough coping with Kit Sutton's absence, but with Nettie Peterson's grief added to mine, it's been impossible to go about my day with any semblance of serenity.
It's quite simple; when Nettie's unhappy, I cannot be content. She finally let me visit her earlier today. That doesn’t mean her overall state has improved, though. We went to talk in the garden, only there wasn’t much talking involved—she merely sat in her mother’s chair, staring blankly at the storm-tossed flower chaos.
“Didn’t you want to fix your plants back up?” I inquired.
“M-hm,” she muttered.
“It’d be a shame if your pretty garden was gonna stay like this.”
“M-hm.”
“If you need help, you let me know, okay?”
“M-hm.”
“I won’t try to eat the geraniums again.”
“M-hm.”
I leaned forward to try and catch her deep brown gaze. “Nettie, please say something. I thought we wanted to share our feelings more.”
“There’s nothing to share,” my savior human answered, her voice dry and monotone. “Kit’s not here anymore.”
“Yes, and I’m upset, too. But either I’m a horribly poor judge of human behavior or there's more to this.” I tilted my head at her. “I’ve never seen you this way. You said you didn’t always want a solution to your problems, and I’d be happy to just sit and listen as well, but you’re not talking either.”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“Clearly not.”
Nettie let go of a soft breath. “I didn’t wanna tell you. Not until… It’s just that in the last couple days, Kit and I were getting kind of…” She faltered and trailed off.
“Kind of what?” I prompted.
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Please try, if you can. I want to understand.”
My best friend refused to meet my gaze. “See, that’s what I envy you for sometimes. You have an outsider’s perspective. You only see what’s in front of you and you don’t concern yourself with the rest.”
“I am concerned! I’m really concerned about you right now. You’re my best friend, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like my caretaker, but I wanna be here for you now. Please. Let me.”
“I… I know, that’s not what I was saying…” She adjusted her bra strap, her hand coming to rest on her shoulder as though she was hugging herself. “If there was something I’d kept secret from you—nothing bad, just something personal—would you be mad at me?”
“I can’t even imagine being mad at you,” I replied.
"That's good to know," she murmured, finally lifting her head to meet my gaze. "It doesn't change things for now, but it's… good to know."
After that, she fell silent again, and I left not much later. I was setting out for a pretty gloomy rest of the day when Frankie Preston texted me, asking to come hang out at the hotel. I've only stayed at a hotel twice, when Nettie took me on vacation with her. The first time was to Croatia, the other to the south of France. My savior human speaks fluent French.
Anyways, I was glad to follow up on the server's invitation. I won't describe the exact location of the hotel he'd chosen, but it was a fairly nice place. I took Kit Sutton's car there, which definitely gave me a weird feeling. In a way, it was nice. It felt like her. The worn seats, the ancient scent tree, the assortment of guitar picks in the cup holder. The empty takeout bag lying in the footwell. When I pulled up to the hotel parking lot, I was almost reluctant to get out. When I eventually did and entered the lobby, I found that I didn't quite know where to go. I opted to simply walk up to the front desk. There was a man sitting behind it, but he didn't look up from his computer screen upon my approach.
"Mm-yes?" he muttered, and it took me a moment to realize he was addressing me.
"Hi," I began.
Something about my voice must have caught his attention, as he abruptly lifted his head to meet my gaze. "Hi," he echoed, a smile forming on his face. I couldn't help but take note of the silvery gleam of his blond hair. It was long and wavy, tied back behind his head. I wondered how it felt. "And you are…?" he prompted, taking me in.
"Sunshine," a voice rang out from behind me. I whirled around, giving Fran a bright smile which, to my delight, he reciprocated. "You have no idea the kind of acquaintance you just made."
I glanced between the two in confusion. The receptionist spoke up first. "Oh. Oh, I see! This is her, isn't it?"
"Yes. Eva, this is… one of the many banes of my existence. He's my younger brother, but only in the most remote sense of the word, I assure you." The waiter gave the receptionist a look that was somewhere between contemptuous fondness and pure contempt.
The other man grinned. "Oh Frankie, my Frankie, you are just the most bitter piece of work there is."
"Younger? You look far older than Frank," I remarked.
"Ouch. But what are looks, really?" He waved me off. "And what is age with creatures like us? Frankie tells everyone he's twenty-two, I say I'm twenty-seven. We just made up these numbers to match our faces. He's existed for way longer, though. That's probably why he's so miserable." He leaned forward, twinkling at me. "Me, I see the world through fresher eyes."
I didn't quite know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.
"Frankie, won't you introduce me?"
The waiter sighed deeply. "This is… Zion. Zion Boyd. I told him it's a perfectly silly name, but he wouldn't listen. I'm glad Rhonda picked mine for me."
Zion Boyd laughed quietly. "You're an asshole."
"You're an idiot."
"You wanted to hang out?" I reminded Fran.
"Right!" He grabbed my wrist and began steering me towards the winding flight of stairs in the back of the hall. "Ignore him. Forget him entirely, if possible. You're not missing out.”
He brought me up to his suite, a pleasantly large, open space. The tall windows let in the light of the setting sun, painting blushing hues upon the wallpaper. I sat down on the living room couch, switching on the TV not because I was in the mood to watch anything but rather for the background noise. Frankie joined me after a second, placing before me a glass of cold coconut water as he regarded me through thick lashes. "You got something on your mind, don’t you?”
"Your brother."
"Aw crap. That smarmy, handsome piece of shit…" Fran clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. "I knew this would happen."
"What? No. I was wondering about what he said," I clarified, shifting uneasily in my seat.
His hands stilled. "Oh." He smiled brightly. "Do tell."
"He called you creatures. And there was something else in there about your ages."
"So? What do you think? Any grand theories?"
I shrugged. "I could probably try to piece things together. But I'd rather hear it from you."
"Ah, would you. Well, I'm sorry, Sunshine, but it doesn't work like that."
"Don't you think I need to know?"
He reached out to poke my sternum with his finger. "No. I give you everything you need. When I decide you need more information, I'll give that to you, too."
I frowned at him, but hadn't yet regained the ability to speak when my phone rang. I reluctantly fumbled it out. It was an unknown number, but I recognized the voice that greeted me from the other end. “Mary Markov?”
“Miss Shirley! Nice talking to you again.”
“To be honest, this is a bad time…”
“That’s of no relevance. Remember when I told you I might get back to you?”
“Yes.” I exchanged meaningful looks with Frankie, who rolled his eyes. He scooted closer to me and pressed his cheek up to mine to listen to the phone call. His skin was almost unnaturally smooth. I swallowed thickly when I felt his jaw working on his bubble gum, moving against mine.
"Miss Shirley?" Mary Markov asked. "Are you still there?"
"Did you say something?"
A sigh. "Look. You want money, I want your help. Come to the address I’m sending you now. It’s a big parking lot by a hiking trail in the woods. I have business there, and I could use the extra manpower.”
“Right now? I’m kind of on a…”
“You can bring the misanthropist with you.”
“What’s a misanthropist?” I inquired.
“She means me,” Fran supplied.
"She does," Miss Markov confirmed.
"We're coming." I ended the call, turning to Frankie. "That's okay, right? Are you with me?"
"Sure. Money's important. It'll be better if you have your own so I won't have to give you mine." He got up to collect our jackets. "At least this way, you won't get stabbed for it."
We took Kit's car over to the meet-up spot. Mary Markov was waiting for us beside a black pickup truck that seemed rather ill-suited for her. She was wearing a blazer, suit pants and dress shoes that were somehow pristine despite the muddy ground.
"There you are," she said, her tone crisp. Pointing her chin at the woods behind her, she added, "I hope you're ready for a bit of a hike."
"What do you need me for?" I asked.
"The Collective you came into contact with. We have reason to believe that they are meeting up here, among other places. There are probably hideouts to be found, and other things, too."
"Like what?" Fran raised a skeptical brow.
"The objects you were hired to guard. They're important; we don't rightly know what they are but they're constantly being kept on the move. There's no doubt the Collective wants them to remain obscure, and they're being clever about it."
"And you're hoping we'll go in there unprepared and just stumble across them?" the waiter inquired.
"Not exactly. There's a particular member of the cult we've managed to keep our eye on, and we followed her here. She's with at least two others, so we believe they're up to something important," Mary Markov explained. "Go in and find them. When you do, stay low and observe. I'll stay here. If anything goes wrong, call me and I will send for reinforcement."
"Why don't you let your agents go in? Why pull Eva into this? Again?"
"Frankie, I'm fine," I assured him, taking a step towards the newsreader. "What do I get paid?"
"You won't be disappointed in the money," she promised, smiling thinly. "To answer your friend's legitimate question—," she glanced over at Frank Preston as though she didn't consider his query legitimate at all, "—you are quite handy. Normally, when humans have to defend themselves and it comes to an altercation, there's… screams. Blood. Gunshots. Bullets are costly. Personnel even more so. When our agents get hurt, it might take months for them to recover. You don't need that kind of time. You're altogether less likely to be injured fatally. Employing you might end up saving us some lives and we'll be sure to make it worth your while."
That's, in short, why I found myself trudging through the mud and brushes alongside a very grudging Frank Preston that night. The storm had taken its toll in the woods, too—our chaotic surroundings reminded me of a larger-scale version of Nettie's garden. Trees had been uprooted and were lying dead in our path like organic roadblocks. The ground was covered with broken branches, twigs and young leaves. The wet soil squashed beneath our shoes every step of the way. With nightfall approaching, there was not much light reaching the forest floor. This certainly protected us from visibility, but it came at the price of my vision. I couldn't really see what was beneath me, so I kept tripping and staggering.
Frankie was somehow as graceful as ever, unbothered as he stepped over roots and rocks as if he could sense them before placing his feet. He was much quieter than me, but he thankfully wasn't smug about it. He kept one hand steady on my shoulder, aptly guiding me away from obstacles and protrusions. After a while, this began to work very well, and I became less noisy the deeper we proceeded into the woods. The server’s grip suddenly turned painfully tight, stopping me in my tracks. I realized why when I caught a glimpse of brightness not too far ahead. My chest tightened when I spotted the beam of a flashlight traveling the forest floor.
“Hush,” Frankie murmured into my ear. “Don’t. Move.”
I stood stock-still, trusting the fingers still digging into my skin.
The light passed over us, nearly reaching us but not quite. I breathed a silent sigh of relief, which died in my throat when a familiar voice carried over to us on the breeze.
“Hurry up already, would you?”
“Don’t… don’t stress me. Why aren’t you helping?” a young woman replied.
“Because it’s your fucking job.”
I felt myself break into a cold sweat. My heart was thumping so fiercely it was beginning to hurt; my pulse racing. Breaking from my rigor, I leaned over to whisper to Frankie. “That’s them.”
“What?”
“The one who stabbed me.”
Fran’s hand disappeared from my shoulder, moving down to quickly grasp mine. The pair before us was still on the move, the light of their torch slowly fading into the distance. “Listen to me,” my partner proceeded to hiss into my ear. “There’s two of them and two of us, but technically it’ll just be you. I’m not gonna leave you on your own, but the most I can do is hold one of them down.”
“But you’re strong…”
“I can’t actually hurt anybody. I gladly would, but it’s literally physically impossible for me. Do you still want to follow them?”
I paused. I didn’t want to. In fact, every fiber of my being was yelling at me to run, to get out of those woods, and yet… “We have to.”
A sigh. “I really feel like I ought to talk you out of this.”
“Don’t.”
“If things get dire, I’ll grab you and bail.”
“I’ll allow it. I’m still doing this.”
“Guess I was wrong. You might get stabbed for your pay this time around, too.”
“This is bigger than just money, Fran.”
His hand wandered back to my shoulder, nudging me forward. “I know. You want to tear this creep apart.”
I paused. “If Markov asks, we didn’t plan on it.”
“Finally, some murderous tendencies in that sunny mind of yours.” The cheer in Frankie’s voice was only a little forced.
I steeled myself as we took up walking once more. Soon enough, we caught up with the two cultists, trailing behind them at a safe distance. I could hear the faint scraping of a wheelbarrow on the uneven ground. The eerie creaking noise was enough to speed up my heartrate once more. Frankie’s words still echoing through my mind, my thoughts were racing. A part of me was convinced I was making a terrible mistake, but there was something driving me on. Whether it was curiosity, an underlying thirst for revenge or illusions of grandeur, I’ll never know. Yet forwards I went. Abruptly, the pair stopped, the wheelbarrow grating to a halt. Frankie instantly dragged me down to hide behind a dead, uprooted tree, and not one second too soon.
The beam of the flashlight roamed the underbrush, its owners remaining blissfully unaware of our presence. “Here we are,” the person who’d attacked me spoke up again.
“Woah,” the woman pushing the cart answered eloquently. Whatever they were looking at was undoubtedly rather impressive.
“You’ve never been here before, have you?”
“No… Does it go as deep as they say?”
“Deeper. It’s a whole-ass tunnel system down there. We’ve spent years prepping for this, remember?”
“Okay. Whew. Well then, off we go. Can you help me lift him up, at least?”
The other person groaned. “Fine.”
Frankie Preston had grabbed my arm. The distant shine from the cultists’ torch bathed him in an almost unearthly glow. He was cowering beside me with tense shoulders, his face a cold, concentrated mask. He wasn’t even chewing on his gum anymore. His wired posture reminded me of a lurking wildcat in a nature documentary. When he turned to look at me, I could almost tell what he was thinking.
Whatever these two had come here to do, it was happening now, meaning that this was our last chance to intervene.
Trying to free my mind from all thoughts of flight, I rose to my feet. Step by step, I made my way out of our hiding spot, instantly drawing the pair’s attention. Two heads whipped around to face me. The flashlight dropped and rolled a little ways across the ground, its wide beam illuminating the small clearing and revealing the reason for the cultists’ venture. There was a dark hole in the ground at our feet, the opening reminiscent of a gaping, toothless maw. My gaze wandered over to the pushcart. Its bulky contents were covered by a large, green tarp. The tall, lanky person slowly raised their hands to their hips, uttering a low, mildly surprised “huh”. The woman, who was stockier and far shorter in stature than them, stood frozen in shock. The eyes that stared at me from behind her black mask were blown wide.
“Hey you,” the tall one said. “I had a feeling we’d meet again soon.”
I didn’t respond. My stomach suddenly burned with a phantom pain. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the person’s gloved hands, trying not to jump when their fingers twitched into the direction of their pocket. Trying to keep my breathing steady, I reached up to unzip my jacket. As it fell to the ground, I felt my tentacles pierce my skin. Simultaneously, my teeth began to elongate, curving outward as they uncomfortably stretched out my gums.
“I had a feeling something like this was gonna happen, too,” my former assailant added, tilting their head at me. “I do love being right.”
The woman, who had been stunned speechless up to that point, let out an ear-shattering scream, but before anything coherent could emerge from her throat, the other person had spun around and struck her square across the face. The blow had come with such force that she crumbled immediately, her shriek dying in a strangled whimper before she hit the ground unconscious. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My mind was spinning, but I forced my eyes to remain hard, praying that my large fangs were twisting my face enough to veil my terror. I lifted myself over the fallen tree, partly employing my extra limbs. The cultist didn’t shrink away, instead taking a large step towards me. Before I knew it, the surface of their mask was scraping against my teeth. Too startled to move, I held their gaze for several seconds. Up close, I could see the only part of them that wasn’t obscured.
There was something very, very wrong with their eyes.
At first, I couldn’t put my finger on it. Their iris was of a pale, watery color that could not quite be defined as blue. Their surreal milky sheen was enough to send a chill up my spine. And then I realized it. There were only the irises. That black dot that all humans and most other known lifeforms typically have in their eyes, the pupil, it simply wasn’t there.
I stood rooted to the ground, staring into the stranger’s eyes. I thought I could see different colors swirling around in those not-quite-blue orbs. I was abruptly noticing a sudden inability to move on my part. I wanted to lift my arm and shove the cultist away, I wanted to unhinge my jaw and sink my teeth into their flesh, but I couldn’t. I was distantly aware of the heavy rising and falling of my chest, of my heart thundering in my ribcage, but it didn’t feel real somehow. Nothing felt real anymore. The world had turned iridescently turquoise and violent, flashing lights dotting my vision as my breathing grew quicker.
Somewhere in the back of my head, the last waking part of me was screaming.
And then, all of a sudden, everything turned dark again. I blinked furiously, trying to orient myself as the outlines of trees and bushes swam into focus again. The sweet smell of pine needles and damp soil hit me as I emerged from the hypnotic half-slumber. Before me, ramrod straight, stood Frankie Preston, and somehow, the sight of him had triggered the flight instinct in the cultist I had failed to provoke. Our eye contact broken, they staggered back, just as Fran stepped aside. This time, I didn’t throw away my shot. I threw myself at the stranger, lunging forward with my teeth bared. They dodged me by a hair’s breadth, bolting towards the manhole and, within a split second, they had disappeared down the pitch-black shaft. No sound of impact met our pricked ears.
Frankie wordlessly took out his phone, proceeding to place the call to Mary Markov. He walked over to me as they talked, grabbing my hand with his free one and pumping it almost rhythmically like he was trying an unconventional method of resuscitation. His voice and that of the newsreader on the other end sounded strangely far away. After hanging up, he hastily typed something before finally shoving the device back into his pocket. With an almost methodical precision, he wrapped his arms around me and picked me up, holding me close to his chest. My tentacles were hanging limply from my back as my teeth slowly began to reassume their normal size and length. Entangling my trembling fingers in his curls, I must have looked absolutely pitiful. The server sat down on the fallen tree, his grip on me unfaltering as I adjusted to sit on his lap, feeling myself unwind.
We remained like this, not speaking, until we heard steps draw closer. Mary Markov and two of her agents were walking towards us at a speedy pace, the newsreader crouching down in front of us while the two men immediately took to the unconscious female cultist.
“You were in here for quite a while,” she began, her voice drifting in and out of my ears while Frankie’s soothing touch curled around the edge of my senses. “I had a feeling something had gone wrong, so I’d already sent for backup. Good thing, too, I guess.” Her voice held a barely hidden note of accusation.
“Leave her be. She’s obviously in no condition to speak,” the waiter growled.
I would have confirmed this, but I was in no condition to speak.
Mary sighed. “Nevermind then, we’ll discuss this later. For now, let’s check what they were transporting.”
I patted Fran on the back to alert him.
“Feeling curious? Even after all of this?”
I nodded into his nape.
A grunt. “Well, fine. Not like this could have gone any worse, huh.” He stood up and walked us over to the wheelbarrow, closely followed by Mary. The newsreader inspected the tarp, then grabbed one corner and flung it off the cart. A sharp gasp escaped her and I craned my neck to look. Frankie instantly turned around, trying to avert my eyes from the sight that had just been revealed to us, but it was too late. I had already seen the contents. The headless body lying folded in the barrow.
A human with their head removed doesn't look entirely human anymore. I could tell from the stature that it was a male body, but its condition made him feel less like a person. I couldn't help drawing this distinction, even though it made my stomach turn. Rigor mortis having washed over the carcass, he was in a bent, twisted position that would have been painful to anyone still alive. One of his arms, freed from the tarp, was dangling loosely over the side of the cart. One of Mary’s agents gagged and covered his mouth. I shot him a sympathetic glance, though I don’t think he caught it. I was too tired to scream or throw up. Thus quenching any visceral reaction to the gruesome sight, I buried my face in Fran’s shirt once more, closing my eyes.
X
1
2: deadbeat roommate
3: creepy crush
4: relocation
5: beach concert
6: First date
7: Temp work
8: roommate talk
9: a dismal worldview
10: warehouse
11: staircase
12: explanation
13: hurt
14: hospital
15: ocean
16: diner
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2023.05.28 15:47 inconspicuousjaguar I don’t want to get divorced.

I need to vent and can’t tell my friends or family how I feel. I left my husband about 4 months ago. I couldn’t deal with my marriage anymore. I was extremely depressed and having anxiety attacks and thought he was always supportive during those moments, our situation was getting worse every day. He quit his job because he was miserable there and I supported his decision because I didn’t want to see him like that but he didn’t find a job for more than a year. That took a toll on me because I don’t make a lot of money and we were struggling to make ends meet. We lived in an apartment owned by my mil but I didn’t want to stay there and had been trying to move out for a long time. I HATED living there. On one hand, the house is hunted (a story for another time). For a lot of people it might be hard to believe it but after living there, it there is no other explanation. On the other hand, I never had a good relationship with my mil. She is very “protective” of her son. So after a lot of discussions and even begging him, I started to look for a place to move. Then I had to go through surgery and coincidentally my mil got sick and ended up being hospitalized. We have a toddler, and I was having a really hard time because I had to take care of them though I was supposed to be in recovery but my husband had to take care of his mother. Then one night, after he came from the hospital he asked me to wait a little longer to move and that’s when I knew it was over. I was never going to be his priority. I understand my mil was sick but it’s always been like that. Besides that, I was feeling like he didn’t love me anymore. He stopped caring about certain things that he used to. So, after a lot of thinking, I finally decided to leave. My family didn’t know all the details but were very supportive. Apparently nobody really liked him. Now, everybody is sort of pressuring me to get a divorce, especially my mom, and I’m not ready. I’d hoped that my husband would miss me and try to fix things up, to realize what I meant in his life. And, well, I guess I was not wrong when I thought he didn’t care anymore. Now, I do know that I have to divorce him, I’m just having a really hard time getting to terms with that. I need him to start paying child support because I am really struggling. I think he isn’t even trying to because he wants me to struggle, a sort of “I told you so”. I’ve never complained about money to anyone and when I’d been able to help someone who needed it, I had. So I wouldn’t even been able to ask anyone to lend me money. The thing is, I am considering calling him to fix things and going back. I know I shouldn’t but this is way to hard. First, I miss him terribly. And second, I can’t afford this anymore. I’m looking for another job but the unemployment rates where I live are pretty high. I haven’t been sleeping well because I’m worried about bills. Sometimes I regret leaving him though I know (even if my heart doesn’t accept it) that he doesn’t love me anymore.
TLDR. I left my husband now I regret it and want to go back.
submitted by inconspicuousjaguar to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 15:21 Crafty-Question2166 Supervisor References

Hi all, hope your all well.
Will be leaving CS soon to move into the private sector (aerospace)
will be going through security clearance soon after i’ve passed initial checks and i know they ask for details of your current supervisor and previous supervisor.
Current supervisor won’t be a problem however i’ve had a bunch of part time jobs in retail/hospitality before joining the CS and i don’t have any details of my previous supervisor’s apart from their names.
Their email and phone numbers I didn’t really need/was given so i’m unsure as to what to do when it comes to filling out the form soon.
Also what do they ask supervisors, is it just confirmation/dates of employment and job role or do they ask for character references?
any advice is much appreciated.
submitted by Crafty-Question2166 to TheCivilService [link] [comments]


2023.05.28 15:01 KooKooKangaRoo42 My Chiari Surgery Experience

Hi there,
Just sharing my Chiari Surgery experience for anyone who is thinking about getting it done and wanting to hear about people's experiences/recovery.
I (43 f) just had my Chiari Decompression Surgery with duroplasty and C1 laminectomy at Weill Cornell with Dr Stieg in NYC on Wed 5/24 and was discharged home this AM (Sat 5/27). They were actually ready to discharge me on Fri 5/26 even — but because I live so far (5 hrs) from the specialty center, I felt more comfortable staying one more night, which they were fine with.
For background, I was just diagnosed with Chiari I.5 malformation (13 mm cerebellar tonsillar descent, with the obex or bottom of medulla being squished down there even lower) on MRI on 5/5/23. (No syrinx in the spine, though, fortunately.) I am so glad the neurosurgeon got me in so fast. Doctors including my neurologist had been blowing off my increasing symptoms for the past 5 years. (“Oh, it’s probably just migraines — oh, it’s probably just cluster headaches — oh it’s probably just neck strain.”) So frustrating! But once I got the MRI showing the Chiari, I just took the initiative to find a neurosurgeon to consult with. And Dr. Stieg’s team was very good about getting me in quickly. He did a full brain and spine MRI, with and without contrast, and consultation with me within 2 weeks of my reaching out to his team. I could already tell within 1-2 days post surgery that essentially all my major problems had been resolved (though of course there’s a lot of neck stiffness and soreness from the surgery itself, but it’s already so much better just 3 days post-surgery).
I had problems since at least 2018 including: Chiari headaches (excruciating, incapacitating collapsing to the floor moaning with my head in my hands headaches, triggered initially by coughing episodes — but then progressively over time even by just standing up too fast, yelling for the kids, bending or tilting my head wrong, by the end even sitting up or turning over in bed by the end). Also terrible chronic neck pain RIGHT at the base of my skull (that I thought had been caused/worsened by car accident whiplash, but now I think 100% caused by the Chiari -- since it seems to have pretty much resolved since the surgery). And also increasingly weird neurological symptoms due to the compression of the brain stem, including: trouble swallowing (seemed like I accidentally choke liquid down the wrong tube every single day when I took a drink), excessive drooling, numb/weak hands/clumsy hands, poor balance/coordination (walking into walks, trips/falls going up and down stairs, a few faint episodes), excessive yawning, and hands(not just a little — like shaking violently after every yawn or sneeze).
My surgery was at 7:30 AM. I had to show up at 5:45 so they could get me checked in and everything. The neurosurgeon and anaesthesiologist were very good about explaining what would be happening and answering any questions I had. They took special care talking about my anaesthesia (because in my case a sleep study had shown that the Chiari puts pressure on my brain stem, and has caused me to have central sleep apnea — different from obstructive apnea. It’s the brain signals telling my lungs to breathe don’t always get through at night. So that is part of why I’m always waking up in the middle of the night and still feeling tired in the morning.) So concerns about that were thoroughly discussed and they would use a CPAP mask to help with my breathing if needed. They still went with Methadone as IV painkiller as planned. The surgery took about 3 & 1/2 hours. (They told me 2-3, so pretty close). They will put your IV in of course and give you something to relax you and put you to sleep and you won’t remember anything afterward except them telling you the surgery is all done and it’s time to wake up.
I’m not going to lie, there was some pain obviously. But for me, it was manageable —never more than a 6-7, and with the Oxycodone and Tylenol they gave me, got me down to a 3 (on a 10-point pain scale) pretty fast. For the day of the surgery they had me on 10 mg Oxycodone dose immediately afterward, tapering down to 5 mg. I had some nausea the first day after surgery too, which the anaesthesia and pain meds can cause, I guess. But they gave me something for it whenever I complained and whatever they gave me worked quickly. The steroids for swelling also tend to cause some side effects -- high blood sugar, which they did finger pricks to check and which were always a little high -- though they didn't end up having to give me any insulin. And heartburn, which they gave me protonix for every morning. And Maalox once, when I complained about it still bothering me
They actually tapered me just the day after surgery down from Oxycodone to just regular Tylenol and muscle relaxant every 8 hours — but would check in with me regularly about pain of course and offer Oxycodone as needed or if it got worse. I did take just ONE more dose of Oxycodone that next night, the day after surgery — I think it’s my own fault for doing a little too much walking and self-directed P/T (trying to turn my neck a bit side to side to loosen the stiffness) that first day. So maybe give it a few days before you do much active attempt to turn/stretch the neck. (Don’t be a hero by trying to taper too soon — the one extra dose of Oxycodone I asked for that night provided me a lot of relief and allowed me a good night of sleep and was feeling much better the next morning and able to taper to Tylenol without a problem.)
But by two days post-surgery, I was doing really well and managing with just 3 Tylenol and 1/2 muscle relaxant every 8 hrs. Steroids too to keep down the swelling every 6 hours. The recovery has really been so good so far from what I had feared. Not so bad at all. They did give me some Oxycodone I can have at home if pain flares up again, but I don’t think I’ll need it.
Literally, as soon as I woke up from surgery, my very first sip of juice that I had, I realized I could swallow again without choking. By the day after surgery, the numbness in my hands had mostly abated. (That one I was worried about, because I know sometimes if nerve damage goes on too long it can be permanent so I thought the numbness and hand weakness might not resolve). I could sit/stand/turn over in bed etc without triggering the usual Chiari headaches. Some other symptoms that I didn’t even KNOW were related to my Chiari (a nagging constant earache in my left ear that my GP just always told me there was nothing wrong when she looked in there — miraculously also gone! Must have been due to blocked CSF or something).
I am already so happy I had this surgery done, even though my husband was nervous about it happening so quickly. I’d been suffering for 5 years already, with it impinging a lot on my quality of life, ability to play with or carry my own kids, and neurological symptoms can get worse over time, so as surgeon said — now that you know the diagnosis and likely solution, what are you waiting for?I do realize that everyone’s story is different and I am quite lucky that (so far) everything has gone according to plan, with such rapid and obvious symptom relief for me, incision healing seeming to go so well, etc — so bear in mind everyone’s situation and recovery is different and consult closely with your professionals. This is just my own story. But I had a *very* good experience and would definitely recommend the Chiari surgery to anyone who was suffering the level of symptoms that I was having.
I will second the recommendations others have made about taking stool softeners (and laxatives or suppositories if needed to get things going) in your first few days post-surgery. I am very sensitive to the constipating effects of opiates like Oxycodone (I went 8 days without pooping after my C-Section — by which time it was very tough and painful, as you can imagine). So although they were giving me stool softeners — Senna, and Miralax every day — when I still hadn’t gone for 3 days, I asked for prune juice, and when that didn’t work, and I was still straining and having trouble passing, I requested Milk of Magnesia. It gave me unpleasant stomach cramping for a few hours, but was worth it to me, because it got the job done so I was all cleared out by the time I left the hospital, which was important to me. Given all the warnings they give you about not straining on the toilet because it can increase CSF pressure in the head and potentially cause your dura patch to leak.
I showered for the first time the morning of my discharge (3 days post surgery). My surgeon said ok to shower, but don’t submerge — no pools, hot tubs, etc as that can increase risk of incision infection. No rubbing any lotions or oils back there, though bacitracin or neosporin to put on with sterile gloves/hands is ok if incision is itchy. They removed the bandage 2 days after my surgery and said everything looked beautiful. (I can PM you a picture of the shave line and incision if you what it looked like immediately after they removed the bandage. You can’t even notice the incision or that they shaved any of my hair when my hair is down. They tell me it is healing beautifully. My 5-year-old says it looks "soooo cool!" 😂)
Just a note, following surgery, that first day I found it more comfortable to rest on my side than my back because the neck incision pain hurt too much while on my back. But by 1-2 days after surgery, lying on my back with head elevated was fine. I second the recommendation for buying a wedge pillow in advance of your arrival home. (I didn’t know how helpful that elevating/reclining hospital bed pillow was until it was gone!) Right now I’m stacking pillows, but I think a wedge would have worked better.
They told me no bending, lifting, twisting - don’t carry anything bigger than a gallon of milk for 6 weeks. If you drop something and do need to pick it up, bend at the knees. No picking up kids (at least, not if the one who wants picking up is 5 years old and 40 lbs, like my youngest!). Avoid driving for 2-4 weeks if you can, both to avoid needless jostling of head from sudden stops , and strain from having to turn your head too much. Do P/T if recommended.
I did have one slightly scary experience during my very early recovery (harmless, apparently, but freaked me out since I had never experienced it before). I had an episode of “vasovagal syncope,” which involves an automatic bodily reaction where your blood pressure and heart rate suddenly drop precipitously. (It happens to some people when they see needles or blood or get stressed or scared — essentially “fainting.” But never happened to me before). Apparently, it is not uncommon to occur after anaesthesia, brain surgery, etc.
So this was on the very day of surgery. Remember my procedure only started at 7:30 AM on Wednesday. But after dinner the same day, around 6:30 pm, they were already encouraging me to try moving to a sit-up chair for a while — with the idea that if that went well, we’d go on to do a little assisted walking (I guess walking as soon as you can helps with recovery time, reduces risk of blood clots, etc). So I sat up in a chair for about 30 minutes, not even standing, just sitting in a chair. And was fine at first. But then my legs started shaking a lot and I started to feel very nauseated. I asked the nurse to get me something for the nausea, afraid I was going to actually throw up, and while she was gone, started feeling even weirder - like flushing hot and cold sensations, sudden sweating. More shaking. Just feeling weird and terrible. My husband said I turned white as a sheet and my lips as white as the rest of my face. My husband got the nurses who helped me lay flat, and neuro came in a minute later to see me and ask what happened. He said what I described was a classic vasovagal syncope reaction - just put some fluids in my IV and had the bed headrest inverted a little (so my head was slightly tipped back — I didn’t like it, because put a little more strain on my neck, but he said just for 5 minutes or so to get the blood back in my head.)
After 30 minutes lying down with my legs up and my head back, I was pretty much back to normal and feeling better. Just a little scary because I didn’t know what was happening and hadn’t experienced it before. And usually I guess people experience it when standing up and walking, not just sitting in chair, so probably took nurses and dr a little by surprise too. But neuro team said it’s not too uncommon after surgery.
I didn’t do any more sitting that night. But next day after lunch, neuro team told me to go ahead and try again — and I had no more problems. Did plenty of sitting, standing, and walking with my husband. They said, by the way, that during your 6 weeks initial recovery, do as much walking as you want — but nothing more vigorous than that.
I am so happy already about the improvement in my quality of life without those horrible headaches and neck aches and other bizarre symptoms. I wish my doctors and neurologists hadn’t been such dummies and had figured it all out 5 years ago… but better late than never! The 5-hour car ride back home from NYC yesterday was a little rough (Memorial Day weekend traffic didn’t help), but I am glad I went the route of seeking out an expert Brain & Spine Center that really knew what they were doing. 4 days after surgery I am sitting here in bed at home with my cat in my lap (and warning the kids not yo jump on the bed) and feeling so much more optimistic about the future.
Wishing you all the best with your own journeys and recoveries. The first 4 days post-surgery really hasn’t been at ALL as bad as I feared. I was scared because I’ve never had surgery other than C-Section before, but it has bern totally manageable with the pain meds they give you. And neck stiffness by day 3, already SO much better than day 1-2. Hang in there!!!
submitted by KooKooKangaRoo42 to chiari [link] [comments]