I went to my doctor yesterday ( male, my female one has gone. I normally don't care about gender in GPs but there's a point why.. ) so I went to my GP yesterday at 5pm, I've been having pain in my forearm lately like stabbing pain from hand to elbow, lots of loss of hair also wanted to get my iron and thyroid checked. I just got right to the point of it but hadn't mentioned the arm or hair yet oh also wanted a smear as I'm mid-ish 30s 2 babies and had a nasty tare having my last so wanted to check also. I just mentioned the blood test he asked a bunch of questions then said you have post baby depression ( sorry can't think of the middle word ATM ) anyways this threw me off big time felt dismissed, he also said he'll do the tests, to put a woman mind at ease? I'll do the tests really don't wanna go on pills as my body doesn't really like most drugs. I've always kinda felt dismissed when it comes to women stuff by males like I was pretty close at getting a emergency hysterectomy with my last baby, but I got a hand in the face the next day when I talked to a male doctor about it where the night before talking to a female doctor about it I felt understand ( I was super worried about it ) I'm not a all men a AH kinda person I want men and women to be treated the same but yeah it just really put me on edge.. I probably do have some form of depression but yeah idk sorry for long post and crap Grammer.. Also I can't just change GPs coz there is none 😔 sorry again if it's really confusing I'm a bit overwhelmed. I'm going to stop and post now. Sorry

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This is going to be a long rant sorry. I'll put the tl;dr here at the start. Spent years complaining to different doctors about symptoms, got consistently different answers. Had a positive pregnancy test 2 weeks ago. 5 days ago rushed to the ER with debilitating cramps and sudden severe bleeding. Roughly 8 hours later was told I lost the baby due to being rh - and oh, I have pcos. In addition to all of that, I feel like no one is helping or educating me on what is wrong with me.
Long version:
Heavy periods were normal in my family. Most of my periods since late teenage years had been heavy and lasted long. I'd been to doctors and was told as long as they came around the same day and lasted about the same time, it was still normal. I rarely have cramps during my periods, and aside from occasionally having extremely heavy flow days or maybe a slightly longer bleeding cycle, it didn't bother me much.
At 19 I had a chemical pregnancy. My then boyfriend (now husband) and I went apple picking in the hills; this was a big deal because it was our first "trip", almost 2 hours from our home town. I had missed my period but only by maybe five days and was excited that our sort of big date wouldn't be ruined by aunt flow. Half way there she showed up anyways... or at least I thought that what was happening. I had mild cramps which was strange but the bleeding didn't stop. I was going through a super tampon and pad roughly every half hour. We made it to the hills, and within 20 mins left. I was too embarrassed to tell him why I needed to go home and blamed it on feeling incredibly sick. What really happened was I had sneezed, and even though it had been maybe 15 mins since I had switch my tampon and pad it gushed so badly that I bleed through my jeans.
I went to the doctor the next day. Found out it was a chemical pregnancy. They did all the "regular tests" to see if there was anything else wrong. Everything came back negative. I was given meds and told to let nature take its course.
Around 22 I started battling my weight. I am 5 foot 1. My healthly weoght is between 115 and 125 lbs. I always did sports so I spent most of my teen years around 130/135, majority ot being muscle weight from the years of softball, swim team, and polo.
My eating habits hadn't changed. But I suddenly kept gaining weight and couldn't lose it. I though maybe it was because I no longer did Phys Ed classes and stopped doing sports. I didn't think I'd hit 165 in just a few months, but assumed it was my fault. I dieted like crazy, started hiking 2 hrs a day, and was able to lose most of the weight and sit comfortably around 145. I never got back to my ideal/healthy weight though. I brought this up to doctors and was told it was my metabolism aging. It was normal. It happened. I just had to adjust my lifestyle and make the best of it.
Shortly after, mostly because I kept demanding answers, I went to an OB who told me I had fibroids. It felt good to get an answer after years of frustration. I tried different birth controls, which helped but also caused other unwanted side effects. More weight gain. Mood swings. Decreased sex drive. Depression. Nothing seemed to be worth it. So I stopped and focused on living as health as I could. Not dieting but chosing better options and eating less. Starting jujitsu. Keeping up with hiking. Things seemed to be balancing out.
At 23 I was in a bad car crash. I was tboned on my driver's side by someone who was trying to turn left into a gas station, going 45 mph. After a couple of days at the hospital, frontal lobe damage, cracked skull,, broken bones, and other minor exteral damage, I fell into a terrible depression. My wrist was shattered so badly that I was in a cast for 9 months. I couldn't exercise. I was always in pain. And almost overnight I went from a healthy-ish (not what I should be at but what I was comfortable at) 145lbs to 165 lbs. Not actually over night but in about a month and a half. I was barely eating because the meds I was on made me so nauseous and completely zoned out. I was stuck inside due to the concussion I had and I was stuck in bed due to other injuries. The bleeding got worse. But I was told it was just the fibroids flaring up.
My periods got worse. They started lasting longer. They were more frequent. I would get one week off and then three or four weeks of bleeding. One time it was a solid 3 months of almost non stop bleeding. I did blood work. Pelvic exams. Went to the OB, my primary care doctor. Moved to a new state. Got a new OB.
At this point my weight gain had gotten even worse. I somehow would drop 10 lbs and gain 10 lbs and then drop 5 and gain 15 over the course of a month. My once thick hair had gotten so thin. It was falling out in clumps. I had bald spots. It was snapping off in places. I did hair masks, oils, viviscal pills. Nothing seemed to help. My depression and anxiety was also getting worse, but after taking pills to feel numb I tried to focus more on natural fixes. Sam-E, holistic supplements, healthy eating.
I told this to my new OB. They did thyroid tests. Diabetes tests. Cancer tests.
And the answer was always, well it's more common than you think to flux in weight. Your blood work looks fine. Sometimes women get heavy periods due to stress. Hair loss is natural with age. Maybe you should change your diet. Work out more.
It was exhausting.
Fast forward to 2023. I got married after 10 years of being with my now husband. We were finally ready to start a family and trying for kids. My OB gave me the all clear, said we shouldn't have anything to worry about. My fibroids hadn't been flaring up. My periods were fairly regular. My dedication to getting healthy was paying off. As strenuous as it was, it was getting results.
I worked hard, lost about 25lbs and got down to 170 last year.
Things were getting better, I was working my ass off. After 5 years I found the strength to join jits again. Even though I had pain and had to be careful with my.old injuries I worked hard to keep up.
Life was getting better.
I've always wanted to be a mom. Since I was little.
When I got that positive test after 5 months of trying it was the happiest day of my life. It had been about 7 weeks from my last period. I had had some light cramping. A day of pink spotting. I could smell things like a blood hound.
The soonest appointment we could get with my OB was a week after the positive test, but I didn't care. I was so happy.
I had adjusted my diet. Fought my sugar cravings and ate only completely natural sugars like fruit. I focused on nutritional food. I did light exercise. I took prenatal, and stopped drinking caffeine. I tried to do everything right.
At the OB the ultrasound didn't look great. They couldn't see much, but confirmed the thick wall was there, and it looked healthy. My blood test came back with healthy levels of p and hcg.
Friday the cramps started. Saturday the spotting started. The cramps got worse. Sunday was the worst day of my life bare none. The cramps pain was unbearable. The bleeding was mind blowing. I was going through 4 super plus tampons in an hour. The pads were the only thing keeping me from bleeding through my clothes every 15 mins.
We spend from about 1:30pm til about 9pm in the ER. I knew at this point what the news was going to be. Blood work was first. It confirmed almost nonexistent levels of HCG. I was told i was rh negative and my body rejected the baby, but i couldnt leave yet. Pelvic exam was next. They couldn't give me any answers on why they were keeping me or what else was wrong. After the ultrasound we waited about 3 hours for results. I was told I couldn't leave because they were concerned I might have twisted an ovary and needed surgery.
The news I got back was a million times worse. Both ovaries were covered in a large amount of tiny cysts. I was told I have pcos. Well they were almost certain it was pcos.
I asked questions buy got very few and vague answers. I was told to go to my OB appointment that I had already scheduled for my 7 week pregnancy follow up. I would learn more there.
I went to my appointment yesterday. Again got very few answers.
I was told more tests needed to be run, and it was hard to do while I was in the process of having a miscarriage. It was probably pcos. I would need to come back in 3 weeks, when I should be ovulating again. I could find out more then.
I feel so lost. I did my own research and finally things started to make sense.
The symptoms were lining up. Things I never even considered being related to each other.
The obvious ones were irregular periods, thinning hair, difficulty losing weight.
However it was the smaller symptoms that made it all click. My sleep habits had gotten very poor. I had trouble falling and staying asleep. I had darkening skin in my elbows, knees, armpits, private areas. Headaches which seemed to get worse around my ovulation time. Unexplained fatigue.
I feel so hopeless. I feel like no one is helping me. No one is guiding me on how to treat this. Or what to do. My concerns were being brushed off by medical professionals. Most of the information I have I found myself after my ER visit. I feel alone, and defeated, and just tired. I've been unable to muster any energy to do much other than get up, go to work, eat a little, and sit/lay in bed. I know it has a lot to do with the miscarriage, which has been hard, but I feel like the pcos diagnosis has just crimpled me mentally to a point where I don't even know how to function anymore.
Thanks for letting me rant. It feels better being able to put into words these feelings. I'm trying to stay strong and not show this side to my husband. He took the news just as hard, if not worse, than I did.
For those who made it this far, any advice would be greatly appreciated. Where do I go from here....

I read this fic years ago and if I honest, it probably got deleted. I’ve searched up the 2 paragraphs I have from it on Google and nothing came up.
Here they are:
“I'm going to remove the breathing tube from your mouth. I think you are able to breathe on your own… can you?” Once again, the singer nodded. As the doctor proceeded and lifted the bed higher. The doctor removed the tube very carefully and the singer started to cough. The doctor gave him a glass of water with a straw.
“Swallow, slowly and very carefully. You are going to feel sore from your throat for a couple of days, then you will be fine… can you understand me?” After sipping on the straw, he spoke his first words and the tone of his voice clarified everything for the doctors. They eyed each other in suspicion.
This is all I have from it and I’ve found nothing. I think Michael’s kids were in it and he was on a plane somewhere? I think he got shot.
If you have any idea where this fic may be, please let me know!

A healthy diet is crucial to your overall health and not just for weight loss. In my Ayurveda & Holistic Nutrition practice in Sarnia, I see many clients experimenting with multitudes of diets - Keto, Vegan, Paleo in order to lose weight or get healthy.
But often the crash dieting, yo-yo dieting or eating inaccurately (without considering your bodies requirements) leads to a lot of nutrient deprivation, lowered metabolism, muscle moss, fatigue, water retention and dehydration etc.
Food is the medicine and when used wisely can really support your body.
According to Ayurveda, Ahara or the food that you eat is one of the three important pillars on which your health rests. In simple words it means that your food is the very foundation of your health, how harmonious your body systems work together and how happy you are can also be determined through food.
A simple example of disharmony in the body can be understood by the food allergies and food sensitivities we see today. 8 out of 10 clients that see me, suffer from various food allergies and sensitivities to gluten, dairy, wheat, corn, soy, etc and this shows that their body is out of balance and harmony.
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Our life revolves as well as evolves according to food that we eat.
Food is essential to our life and since humans can’t make our own food in our body, like plants, we have to eat food to provide us with energy. The food you eat makes each and every cell of your body and also affects your mind. Thus, nutritionally deficient foods will create a body that is weak vs nutritionally dense foods will support your body growth and create a body that is strong and resilient against aging and diseases. The food that you eat impacts your thoughts, behaviors, emotions and mood by influencing your mind - thus the food that you eat can make you calm, centered and balanced or anxious, irritable and depressed.
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So how do you understand whether your diet/ nutritional plan is working for you or not?
You are not at a healthy weight
If you are struggling with gaining/ losing weight and following a diet/ nutritional plan without any results, this is the biggest indicator or your diet is failing you. Often people fall prey to trendy diets like keto, paleo, vegan or green smoothie diet. While these diets can actually work for you if they are custom tailored by using Ayurvedic principles by an experienced Ayurvedic doctor, following these without understanding your own body can create issues like muscle loss, loss of nutrients or excess fat gain.
Physical and mental fatigue
The food you eat is responsible for providing you with both physical as well as mental energy you require for daily activities. So if you are experiencing body and/or mental fatigue it could be a sign that your diet is deficient in essential nutrients that support your body. Often a restrictive diets aggravate Vata dosha in the long term and can significantly lower your energy levels.
You struggle with focus and concentration Often food allergies and sensitivities, excess yeast growth aka Candida or a diet deficient in nutrients especially B vitamins can cause you to lack the focus and concentration required in day to day life. Artificial sweeteners like aspartame, food additives like food dyes, flavours and preservatives can contribute to hyperactivity and other symptoms of ADHD which can lower your focus and concentration.
Your skin lacks the lustre and tone Your skin is one of the biggest reflectors of health. If you are struggling with constant breakouts, acne, lacklustre skin that is wrinkly or hyper pigmented, the reason could be a faulty diet.Often poor diets will also make you lose the tone of your muscles as well as skin and cause skin to sag easily.
Your hair is dry, brittle or greying prematurely Healthy, shiny lustrous hair often has more to do with a good diet, than the use of hair care products. And if you are finding your hair to be dry, brittle almost like the witches broom or prematurely grey, the reason is your diet is failing to provide the essential nutrients like Calcium, Phosphorus as well as collagen required for healthy hair.
You are struggling with digestive issues bloated and gassy Constant bloating and gas indicates an inability to digest the foods you are eating. If you follow a fad diet, which could often be full of the foods that you are sensitive to eg- excess dairy consumption in ketogenic diets or excess reliance on wheat gluten in vegan diet could result in signs of digestive distress like diarrhea, constipation, stomach cramps, undigested food in stool
You get sick easily
Are you constantly sick? Suffering from bouts of cold, flu, and recurrent infections? Well a poor diet often lowers your immunity making you prone to catching every cold and flu bug out there. If you have been sick more than 2-3 times a year for over 2 years it's time to get a reality check and sit with an Ayurvedic doctor to discuss what is causing your recurrent health issues.
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Your body and mind are made from what you eat, so don't be fast, easy, cheap or fake.
This is something to be aware of, as in our fast paced life today, fast foods that are cheaper than fresh foods are on the rise. We eat quickly, foods that are prepared instantly and we find relief in filling the stomach and senses rather than nourishing and energizing the body. Protein shakes are taken as ‘fillers’, granola bars have replaced a well planned lunch and nutrition has become more of a means of calorie counting than actually nourishing our bodies. Often this is what can disconnect you from your body, mind and eventually from your health. So make a conscious choice every time you put something in your mouth or plan a specific di

Had one of those swollen, under the skin deep kind of zit things that's just a lump, like deep cystic acne. It's been sore so I messed with it a bit. I didn't make anything too visually horrible....but I did discover it's part of a tunnel, actually. On my face following my jaw on one side, sort of doubling back under my jaw to mid neck, and that little pad of chin fat that didn't go away despite losing weight again seems actually to have a couple fluid filled nodules in it too... maybe part of why it stayed puffy despite weight loss? Cool, awesome.
Curious: if things aren't particularly near the surface, looking gnarly, or particularly painful, do they usually opt for surgery, or do antibiotics or steroids clear this kind of thing up often? Kind of don't want my jaw and face cut to shreds, or my boob, which as far as I can tell seems to be mostly made of a tunnel of pretty itchy and mildy painful networks of fluid cysts at this point (which at some point in the last year did open to boils along the tunnels, yay scarring, but this time there's way more tunnels/ cysts than when they happened. But it doesn't hurt as bad as before that happened.)
I don't tolerate doxycycline well at all (brought back old ulcers that still haven't healed, upsets ibs, turns stomach to lava- couldn't take it past a week). I've been on 2 bouts of Bactrim, the first one helped some, the second time a very dismissive doctor only put me on it 1 week (both times urgent care, despite me telling him the 2 week treatment barely worked. PC Doctor didn't extend antibiotics (I had a few days left when I saw her) because she was under the impression I would probably be seeing derm by the next week or so.
I was gonna go to urgent care today, but other chronic health issues nixxed that, hibiclens and other things helped the open skin issues and boils move from miserable to tolerable enough.
A big fear is my doctor referred me to several specialists for different things (VA neglect so I switch to a private provider).
I called the other day, staff at her office verified referrals were faxed. Today I called 3 out of the 4 specialists to see if they received anything (was supposed to hear back from the specialists by tomorrow or Monday, so I got impatient, things are debilitating, life is not fun). 3 / 4 did not have referrals for me. Derm included. Didn't bother calling the 4th.
Called back and forth, PCM to specialists, specialists gave me their fax number to relay to PCM office, 'oh, no, we sent it, it shows right here', but something tells me 3 separate offices didn't just clumsily lose specifically my paperwork. They also all said they usually call patients with in 1-2 days of recieving referrals, which should have been faxed last Tuesday, per very helpful office lady.
(My mom and grandma see a provider at this clinic too, used to see the doctor who owned it but recently retired, from their experience, the front desk staff is largely "new" [they've been new a good while now though], pretty friendly, but apparently also not particularly efficient or good at what they do. Like I've done enough office/ clerical work in my life to make sure you get confirmations when faxing anything? Very confused)
Kind of panicking. I guess I'll call tomorrow and go to urgent care (body permitting). I'm terrified of the ER bc I'm afraid they'll just cut me up.
Any reassurances or telling of your experiences would be greatly appreciated ♥️
Also, I'll getting generic Yaz hopefully next week in the mail (has this ever helped anyone?)

Female, 35, 215lbs, 5’2”
High blood pressure - Amlodapine 10mg Cholesterol - Vascepa (2 capsules)
Approximately May of 2021, I had a sudden attack of what I assumed was dandruff. No prior scalp or hair issues. I went from zero flakes to an itchy, white scalp seemingly overnight. The itching was absolute torment, and I bled from tearing at my head. I had not changed my shampoo or conditioner in years. The only change was starting high blood pressure meds (at the time, it was Losartan HCL).
I tried zinc based dandruff shampoos, but it made things worse. Since then, I have tried so many brands, chemicals, types…. And the only thing I have found is moderate itch relief by using:
Tea tree shampoo, followed by dermarest psoriasis salicylic acid shampoo, followed by Re-fresh scalp care conditioner (also salicylic acid based).
Went to my doctor who said maybe fungal infection - treatment did not work. Wait list for dermatologist is MONTHS.
I have also tried process of elimination. For example, by washing my hair daily for weeks, using warm water (not hot), and then washing my hair every other day for weeks.
I still have a heavily white, flaky scalp. It RAINS white dusty flakes no matter what I do. My hair is CLEAN, and nothing is working. I was okay with dealing with this as long as the itching was controlled, but I had to change my blood pressure medication last week due to debilitating migraines and the scalp flaking exploded like it did in the very beginning! Itching has returned.
This seems to be hereditary. My mother is 58 and has the same scalp condition with no answers from her doctor. She just lives with it. She also has super thinned hair. My sister is 32 and she has had abrupt hair-thinning in the last 2 years as well. She does not have the scalp flakes at this time, and I don’t have the thinning issue.
Can someone please explain what could be happening to me? It feels like my scalp is constantly crawling. I am bug-free! I shouldn’t feel this way!
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I'm 18 this year, and I just got diagnosed with hEDS/HSD.
I've spent the last 8 years in pain, the last 4 years looking for answers to my digestive issues, and the last year looking for answers for my joint pain. I'm so happy to finally have a diagnosis and be lucky enough to get diagnosed so early. The doctor who diagnosed me also gave me good resources to look into and told me about my treatment options, and I already have a PT who's worked with patients with EDS.
I know this happy feeling probably won't last very long, but I'm going to celebrate it anyway. I'm just so glad it's not something worse and that there's a plan in place for my care now.

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No this is not a joke post. Title is the Tl:dr- more details below.I was going to just let it go but the fact I need to get a professional cleaner and I've been ill due to this makes me think I should seek legal help. Advice on what I should do? Is this something a lawyer could help me with? I'm from Chicago, IL, USA (as laws usually depend on the area you are from).
A couple months ago I moved to a new apartment a little less than half an hour away so I hired movers as I don't have a vehicle nor the physical strength to move everything on my own. Despite the name, which I'm not sure if I'm allowed to say, they actually send out three guys even if you don't have that much to move (I was moving my one bedroom from a shared apartment to a small studio apartment, the only big thing I have is my bed. Pretty much everything else even I, a scrawny girl, can carry).
When the guys get there they start trying to take things from the living room and I stop them because those are my room mate's things. One guy seems to be in charge of the other two and immediately starts talking down to me which is difficult to deal with. I already have everything planned out and ready to go, and tell him the best way to save time is to get two guys disassembling the bed, and by the time they're done with that all the other things I have me and the other guy will have loaded. They only half listen, one guy is disassembling the bed and the other two loading up things. Eventually second guy joins first guy and I hear one of them muttering curse words in spanish like "puta" (bitch/whore), "pinche" (fucking). It was super unprofessional, but I let it go figuring he was probably just cursing at the bed that was difficult to manage, in context swear words like that were understandable I suppose and I just wanted to get this all done and over with as fast as possible. But then I heard him say "gordita". Gordita isn't a regular curse word, it means fat. I am not obese, but I do have a pear shape I'm self conscious about, and I'd heard enough to know he was talking abusively about me thinking I didn't understand. I didn't want to continue being abused and told him to stop it and I knew what he was saying.
He was frozen in shock at first, realizing I understood him, but not knowing how much he got in my face asked me what I thought I heard. I told him I heard gordita enough times to know what it meant. He continued being abusive to me, saying he was talking about food and had I tried one? Maybe if I tried it I'd like it. No one is talking about food saying, "Fucking fat bitch." He continued to jeer at me repeatedly saying, "Maybe if you tried it you'd like it! Maybe if you tried it you'd like it!" Should I have just taken the abuse? I just wanted him to stop and this was going to absolute hell. They were almost ready to go with my things to my apartment, soon it would just be me and these three men alone in my new place where I knew no one. It was kind of scary. I tried to de-escalate the situation and asked they please just not talk about food anymore while we moved. So they leave for the new apartment with my things. I am having problems with my Uber app and after about ten minutes of frustration and worry I'm going to go over my time not being able to meet them when they get there I call a cab instead. The cab gets there in half an hour, it's a pretty straight shot to my new place.
So I get there, and they're not there. Twenty minutes later, still no movers. I'm not sure if they got the wrong address, I left well after they did and was there before they were, so I called up the company who said they didn't know and they probably took a different route. Well over an hour after they left, and now with no way to make my original predicted time/price they show up. There's no reason they should have taken so long, the only thing I can imagine is they intentionally delayed so they'd get paid more and stiff me for more money, really what could I do in this situation. Everything got unpacked and I tipped them- I shouldn't have. I had planned to do it before they came, and in my mind was arguing I was being petty and maybe there was a legitimate reason I didn't know and intentionally only tipping two of the three seemed mean. In hindsight I shouldn't have as this whole situation was abusive, I was trying to be good and the bigger person but I was stupid in doing that.
It wasn't until the next day I smelled it. All of my things smelled like piss. I had carefully washed nearly all my things before I moved as some of them were dusty and I wanted to move into my new apartment with nice clean things, so I know it happened after the things left my place. There is no other way the piss could have got there. I cleaned all my things, but the piss smell still remains. The second day after I came down with a lung infection I had to go to the doctor for and was very ill for weeks. I keep trying to find what I missed, I have cleaned with bleach and fabrise and everything but my apartment smells like piss because of what these men did to me. I had to go buy expensive medicine again for another lung infection, two prescription to treat it which weren't cheap. I'm going to need to get a professional cleaning service or just start throwing out my things which is also going to be expensive.
Is there anything legally I can do to offset the costs? I tried contacting the company but they won't respond. I don't know if they think it's a joke or am hoping if they don't respond I'll go away. I don't have much evidence other than what I was originally quoted and my bank card being charged much more, along with one drawer that I recently found dried urine pooled on the underside of (there's more stink but it isn't visible like it is on my white drawer), and two doctor visits for my lung infections I got only after the move.

I wish they would go away.
They have spent years punishing me for anything and everything. If I'm really so horrible why do they keep trying to find me and pretend everything's cool?
Any time I point out what they have done to me, it's either ignored completely and they claim it never happened or that I deserved it.
They've stolen from me, sexually harassed me, lied/used/abused me.
They made me think i was a disgusting worthless piece of shit that nobody could love. and that I needed to do whatever I could to get their affection. I bent over backwards, jumped through hoops, rarely slept and in panic mode 24/7 the years that i was with them. At one point I had to pay them to be with me. I sent them on many flights and bought them gaming consoles multiple times. I've pulled them out of a busy street in nyc after they were throwing trash cans and other debri at cars during one of their many tantrums.
I got them an easy job at my very nice office (after they whined & complained that they weren't a gold digger they just couldn't get a job) which they promptly didn't show up for and ignored all phone calls because they "needed to shower." (this man was a neat freak and constantly ordering me to bathe more since he was so repulsed by me.) Most of our relationship was him being offended/disgusted/upset by me and me trying desperately to "fix" myself.
He would throw tantrums because I didn't take him out enough, even though I had to work long hours and he was an adult older than me with free access to my bank cards in nyc - he could go out all day and do whatever he wanted, but because I was t there to hold his hand I "kept him prisoner and slave"... though it was his idea to do any cleaning and he would just get drunk while mopping...
And after we were broken up, they both kept showing up where I lived to harass/cause drama. In front of my landlords, roommates, he'd even show up while I had dates over.
He lives with my mother, and calls her mom. He told me to stay away from "his" family though they always reach out to me saying they "miss" me.
But I remember when he would scream at me that I wasn't as good as the "mom" before me. And I was also his "mom" at one point. (I had to feed him and deal with tantrums when he didnt want the food available, dress him, help him walk, and deal with him threatening to run away in the middle of the night...) But they tell me that their relationship isn't sexual...
Not only that but I get to watch my mother do all the motherly things she never did for me. As a child I was never wanted and told that children should never be heard so my mouth was covered with duct tape. My mother purposely ignored or laughed at me whenever I was injured or sad. When I broke my leg she accused me of lying, even after a doctor visit and a cast + crutches, I had to crawl on the floor across the house to fetch her remote or other things she was only a foot away from. They ignored everything to do with my schooling (fuck events, recitals, awards, etc) and didn't let me out of the house to do anything else.. but now she does all of this for her "new" children and wouldn't dare spank them like they would with my bare little girl bottom.
That is also only the tip of the iceberg, not even going into detail about how she knowingly left me in the hands of an older man (that openly expressed his desire for my underage self and everyone laughed) while she went to play bingo in a city 5 hours away.
Or the time she stopped her car in the middle of the road and walked off. While I had no license, couldn't drive, and also had her giant ass macaw bird latched into my shoulder (because she liked driving her birds around) and when I started walking down the highway she screams at me that I'm stealing her bird (that again, will not let go of me.) And left me there.
Or just a few years ago, when I finally came to live with her after she begged me over and over saying how much she missed me and then promptly evicted me and took in my ex who they both say they love each other and are so so happy together. I can't talk to one without the other knowing everything. They keep secrets for each other but anything I say is made into public mockery.
I finally moved to another city to get away from him, but they are still trying to find me. He visits the city I live in now frequently, purposely setting up long distance dates with women that live here, and posting about it in my local subreddit.
I really wish they would go away, forever. It seems like nothing I say matters, no matter how many times I tell them they aren't wanted or how nasty I get they won't leave me alone. I know this is what they want, to isolate me and make me feel like I'm a monster. They spread lies about me to their friends & family, saying I did things that never happened, but ofc completely denying anything they've actually done to me.
Their relationship hurts me in ways I cannot describe, and I know they relish that. I want to kill myself sometimes just so I never have to see or hear from them again but I know they would just love that as a new pity token to use.
The silver lining here is now I'm in a safer place with those that truly love me, they care for me and help me in ways that nobody ever has before. They tell me I'm full of love & joy and that I deserve to be cared for, something my ex and mother would never ever say to me. I'm grateful for them but I know my issues/mental health is too far gone and too much to dump on them all the time.
I know these toxic fucks are just trying to ruin that too.

[←Chapter 62] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 64→]
The students were quickly dismissed by the Mentor after Efrain declared a winner, who was desperate to do damage control.
“Okay, okay,” he said, brushing down his coat and coughing, “I see that we have failed to meet your standards. On behalf of the entire academy, I apologize immensely.”
Efrain, now that his temper had cooled, and upon realizing that he actually found the situation quite funny, put his hand on the man’s shoulder.
“No, no,” he laughed, “it was all merely an overreaction. Nicolo loved practical jokes. But, for all that, I doubt he would’ve continued teaching at this academy for years if he had no investment beyond it pranking me.”
And just like that, the man’s hope was restored.
“Yes, yes of course,” he said, “although I suggest you not tell what the inscription says to the other faculty. Some have spent… years on it.”
“No wonder, it’s a personal language we made up when we were youths. It’s a ramshackle, cobbled together thing, nigh-impossible to figure out, unless one was inflicted by the insight of drunken insanity.”
The man laughed, Efrain laughed, and he looked around at the academy’s towers and bridges.
“Well, he did fine for himself, clearly,” Efrain said, “even married an Eisen. Its good to know he spared some thought for me, even if it was to pull one over in death. Now I can’t even get revenge now. Clever bastard.”
“Yes, quite,” said the man, coughing, “now, I would be happy to show you to your office. It’s one of our finest.”
The whole situation wasn’t merely funny, he decided, it was hilarious. Unfortunately for Nicolo, Efrain still remembered some of his more embarrassing exploits. He wondered if the man had a biography that was taught - perhaps it needed some correction by a primary source.
“Well, lead on,” he said to the Mentor.
They proceeded from one of the lower bridges to the largest of the four connected towers. The panelled walls were both old and expensive, indicating that the school was indeed more than a joke Students of multiple ages and stripes went this way and that, some carrying books, others merely chatting among friends. Several more hallways and a staircase or two later, the mentor stood before a tall door.
“And here it is,” he said, puffing out his chest with pride, “one of our best.”
“That’s the second time,” Efrain noted, and the man self-consciously pushed open the door, revealing a narrow room.
It was comfortable, with a large desk taking up most of the space, a small bed and stove tucked into the corner. The wall behind the desk was mostly of modest bookshelves, stocked with tomes, some familiar, others not so much. A single, large window, open shutters flung outward, looked out toward the center of the city. The mentor looked around, and then at Efrain, clearly anxious to please.
“Wonderful,” Efrain said, “I hope I’m not depriving anyone of their space for my short stay.”
“No, no, not at all,” the mentor said, “in fact, your timing was fortuitous. One of the professors has elected to retire.”
“Ah,” Efrain said, sitting in the large chair behind the desk.
“You must be exhausted,” said the Mentor, hovering by the door, “I suppose I’ll just come and check on you in the morning. Supposedly your group is to attend the Festival as honoured guests.”
“News to me,” Efrain said, leaning back as he looked out the open window.
“Would you like a change of clothes, a meal, water to bathe in?” said the man.
“No, thank you,” Efrain said, “in fact, I wouldn’t mind a brief tour, actually.”
The man’s face lit up in response to the casual suggestion - clearly he took pride in the institution.
“Yes, yes, why of course, I would be happy to,” he said, “when would you like to begin?”
“Now,” Efrain said, getting up from his chair and moving past the man.
“Actually, now that I think of it, the last of the evening classes should be just starting,” said the Mentor, “would you like to sit in on one. It uses your books.”
A couple minutes, and Efrain was sitting in the back of a small room, dozens of fresh-faced students looking back between him and a professor at a lectern.
“So, as we discussed in the last class,” said the old man with a beard hanging over his considerable stomach, “actually, who would dare to tell me what is the ultimate goal of magic.”
Efrain was busy rifling through the provided textbook on the matter, his apprehension growing with every page that he passed. He’d forgotten just how bad some of his earliest work had been, and now was reliving his mistakes with vivid horror. Several hands rose, and a young girl who couldn’t be more than twelve was selected.
“Magic is a purest expression of the human,” she said, clearly reciting what she’d learned by heart, “it is an attempt to get away from the base naturalness of ourselves and transcend into something greater.”
Efrain stifled a groan as he heard his early and more poetic pondering on magics parroted back at him.
The class continued on until Efrain couldn’t stand it any longer. The professor was in the middle of explaining how magic could be derived from the environment, which was correct, but that was inferior in all cases to simply deriving it from oneself, which wasn’t. Efrain snapped the booklet shut as loud as he could, drawing the gaze of everyone in the class.
“Alright,” he said, getting up, “we need to stop. Stop. All of this is a mistake.”
The professor, quite confused, looked towards the mentor for any sign that he should intervene. The mentor merely shook his head as Efrain stalked towards the lectern.
“My good man, take a seat for a little while,” Efrain said, “there are some errors of mine I have to correct.”
He gripped the edges of the lectern, trying to decide how best to approach this, and begun by clearing his throat.
“Is knowledge truth?” he said, prompting a rash of confused stares.
He departed from the lectern, and walked in front of the students.
“Again, is knowledge truth? Is knowledge automatically, by definition, true?”
“Well, yes,” said a young man slowly.
“Ah,” Efrain said, rounding on him, “so, if I were to stumble on half a conversation a noblewoman has about some innocent meeting she had with a young man, mistook it for an affair, and reported it to her husband, would I be lying?”
“Well, yes, kind of?” said the boy, his brows furrowing. Several of the other students blushed at the impropriety of the statement.
“But that was using the knowledge I possessed, and if knowledge is truth, then where is the lie?” Efrain said, sitting on the edge of the table, “all I did was relay my knowledge, hence, relay the truth to my friend, her husband.”
“I- I-,” said the boy, “then you were misinformed.”
“Precisely,” Efrain said, taking the book from before him and walking back to the front of the class to raise it before the children.
“The truth cannot lie, by definition, but knowledge can, implying that it is a distinct entity from the truth,” Efrain said, as he rounded the lectern.
“Perhaps it is not a matter of relaying the truth,” called the mentor from the back, “but inferring the truth only from half-knowledge.”
Efrain pointed the booklet towards him.
“And that is why he is a mentor and you are still students,” Efrain said, “but what is the point I hear you asking?”
A few genuinely seemed to think he could hear their thoughts and shrank back from this strange, belligerent man.
“The point is this - the books you’re reading are nonsense. Inferences made from a tiny amount of knowledge, by an overconfident idiot.”
The professor started forward at this sacrilege of the texts, but the mentor held him back.
“Now, if you’re intelligent, which I’m sure all of you are, you should be asking about now, ‘how could he possibly know? Who is he to come into our class and start making such claims?’ That’s good,” Efrain paused, and pointed to the cover.
“Would someone care to read me the title of this particular text?” he said.
One of the students, another boy, looked down and began to say in a high, weedly voice.
“Basic Principles of Magic: A Treatise,” he said, looking up to see if he’d somehow passed whatever test Efrain was given him.
“Keep going young man,” Efrain said, nodding him on.
“W-written by Nicolo Eisen, Efrain Belacore, and Avidius Armsted, compiled by Nicolo Eisen and Avidius Armsted.”
“Which is to say, ‘principally written by Efrain Belacore and Avidius Armsted, with footnotes of historical nature by Nicolo Eisen.’ He was always more interested in the history anyways,” Efrain said, slapping the book on the lectern.
The children all looked back and forth between each other, trying to see if any had an understanding better than themselves.
“To answer your question,” Efrain said, “the reason I both possibly know and get to come into your class and make such claims is that I am the middle name on your textbook.”
The explosion of curiosity and confusion was a delight to Efrain, who held up the book to the ceiling, pointing to it.
“To be clear, my name, young ones, is Efrain Belacore, and I’m here to tell you why half of my book is wrong, and the other half is incomplete.”
The class sat in dumbfounded silence, trying to gauge what the appropriate response to such information could possibly be.
“Let’s start with something simple, though, young lady,” Efrain pointed to the young girl who’d given the first definition to start the class.
“Y-Yes, professor?”
“Restate your definition, if you’d be so kind,” he said, which she did word for word.
“I wrote that line when I was under the impression that magic was apart from the natural world,” Efrain said, “in the sense that it could be used to transform it, to add value to it, much like some artists will say that their paintings cut through to the soul of the subject, removing the mortal veil on top of it or some hogwash like that.”
Efrain walked in front of the class.
“We are all part of the natural world, even if we strive to rise above it, whatever that means,” Efrain said, “you get cut, you bleed, you do that enough you die, your body returns to the earth, and so on and so forth. Magic is an extension of all those natural processes, not something apart from it. So, young men and women, do not spurn the world in the pursuit of magic.”
Efrain spied a beautifully made pin, stuck in the hair of a young woman.
“Excuse me, could I borrow that for a moment?” he said, gesturing to the pin.
“Uh, y-yes, sure,” she said, hastily pulling out the pin and letting her hair fall around her shoulders as she presented it to him.
“Thank you very much,” he said, as he held up the pin.
“Right, do not spurn it in the pursuit of magic, rather, embrace it. Seek inspiration in it,” Efrain said, focusing on the butterfly motif.
Again, unbidden, the memories of exploding light and claps of sound.
Copies of the exact butterfly carven on the head of the pin streamed out, following trails of light to explode into pinwheels of light. The children shrieked, at first in fear than in delight as the show continued, and Efrain handed the pin back to its owner. She looked at the pin in what seemed like awe, checking it over for any alteration.
“The pin is intact,” Efrain said, “like I said - inspiration. I had no need to change it.”
The mentor was by his side, clapping at the show.
“I say, marvellously, marvellously done,” he said, “a finer display of magic I’ve never seen. You truly are a master.”
“If that passes for a ‘fine display’, mentor, you are easy to please,” Efrain chuckled, “now, I suggest we leave the poor professor to his work.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” the Mentor said, “after all, you’ve just ruined the integrity of the text he taught from! Students, you are dismissed from your studies for the day. Emilio, take a break for tonight, me and master Efrain have some discussions to have.”
It crossed Efrain’s mind that he might’ve just signed up for some extensive work in the near future. This however, was his academic integrity, and he wasn’t about to let those notes be his legacy, if he was going to have one. They took up the conversation in the hallway, leaving the students filing out behind them.
“That was simply incredible,” the mentor said, “I’m shocked that you were able to do it off the cuff. Just like that.”
“It was nothing,” Efrain said, “and that’s not self-praise, mentor. If you’re not able to do simple illusions of light like, then ‘my’ books have led you astray.”
Efrain stopped to look out through a window, seeing the central pyramid and its rooftop garden. “Though that’s not entirely fair to Nicolo and Armsted. I’ve been travelling and studying for nigh-on two centuries since I left. I’ve learned much more than what they were left to work with.”
When Efrain turned back to the man, he found that he was bowing low.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh please, master Efrain,” said the man, “please, led us back to greatness.”
“What?”
“You are truly, the most knowledgeable, the most revered, the most brilliant-”
“Stop that,” Efrain said, “I left my patience for flattery about a half-thousand miles west. Say what you mean, plainly.”
He tried to tell himself that was the truth, but he couldn’t deny it made his chest swell to hear such things, especially after so long on his own.
“We need you,” said the man, astonishing Efrain as he wiped tears from his eyes, “we are but children, stumbling around-”
“Do you do this with every guest?” Efrain said, trying to tamp down on the delight he felt.
“What? N-no. Be the mentor! I will gladly renounce it, if you are there to take the place. Lead our school, master Efrain!”
Efrain held his face as he considered what the man had just said.
“No,” he said, quashing the image of mentor Efrain squarely and firmly right there.
“B-but why?” the mentor blubbered, “anything you want, I’ll give it to you, anything! Name it and-”
“But I will rewrite those gods-damned books you have. Fill them with my current knowledge, which is far superior than that poetic dreck that I made back in the day,” Efrain said, “I would not be able to live with myself, if I left you with that swill.”
“Oh thank you! Thank you!” said the mentor, clasping his hands.
“Now, let’s get back to my office,” Efrain said, “I’m finding myself quite tired of this whole affair.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” said the man, straightening himself and gesturing the way.
“Tell me,” Efrain said, “your begging seems to indicate that the academy’s future is dire.”
“Oh, it’s bad,” sighed the man heavily, “we simply haven’t been able to produce things that are of much use. It is our shame, and as such, we’ve moved much of the studies to other, more practical subjects. Maths, history - magic is quickly becoming a pure pursuit of knowledge. The Eisen matriarch seems not to mind, but Poutash, and many of the established houses, well…”
Efrain nodded as he climbed the main stairs, shuffling by students. He tried to ignore the irrational guilt that plagued him. He’d just managed to put a lid on it as they reached the office, where within he sank into the chair. The mentor stood nervously by the door, almost like an attending student, not the director of a school. Efrain wondered how he got the position in the first place.
“Well, that was enlightening,” Efrain said, “I’ll retire now, I think.”
“Of course,” said Avencia, “yes, we shall leave you to it. I will have dinner sent up.”
“No need, we had some in the city,” Efrain said, “I don’t eat all that much anyways. Tell me, are there any particular teas you’d recommend? Local speciality or imported, I don’t care.”
The man thought for a few moments.
“I would have to ask someone else, but I will send up a set as soon as possible,” he said.
“Oh, and the books,” Efrain said, reclining back on the chair and looking out the window.
“Which books?” said the man excitedly.
“All of them. Any of them that bear my name,” Efrain said, “In fact, just send me all your core texts for magic. If I need any sort of historical references, I’ll make up a list while I’m reading them.”
The man practically stumbled over himself, thanking Efrain profusely and indicating that the entire curriculum would be sent up, as well as paper and ink. When the door shut, the quiet seemed almost unnatural to Efrain after the busy day he’d had. He picked up a book from the shelf, some piece of Karkosian history from a man he’d never heard of.
He sat back down in the chair, and curiously, he found his eyesight beginning to swim as he tried to parse the page. His body felt… heavy, exhausted even. He tried to resist it, tried to fight it as the book fell open on his lap, but his vision darkened, and soon Efrain had drifted off to sleep.
[←Chapter 62] [Cover Art] [My Links] [Index] [Discord] [Subreddit] [Chapter 64→]

At Compass Medical Clinic, we understand the importance of having access to quality healthcare services. That is why we take pride in offering our patients comprehensive medical care in a warm and welcoming environment. Our team of highly qualified doctors are committed to delivering personalized care to individuals and families in North York. Know more: https://www.compassmedical.ca/new-patient-registration/

I am a 33 year old female. I started Zoloft 50 mg in 2021 for depression and anxiety. I suffered in silence for almost 30 years before I asked for help; this was my first time ever taking an antidepressant. I felt better for a year but was still feeling down more often than not. My doctor suggested upping my dose, but Zoloft made me gain about ten pounds and I did not want to gain any more weight. Instead, she prescribed me Wellbutrin 300 mg to take every day in addition with the Zoloft. For about a year I felt great- energetic, motivated, happy, at ease in social situations. But after about 8 months of Zoloft + Wellbutrin I started feeling very apathetic. I don’t care about anything, good or bad. I have zero motivation. Nothing interests me. Nothing scares me or upsets me, but nothing excites me either. It scares me to feel this way, to think that I will never be happy. Is this just how it has to be? These are my two choices for the rest of my life- miserable without meds or apathetic with meds? Has anyone had a similar experience?

I'm hoping someone here can give me a definitive (and accurate) answer to my question. Here goes...
I have a Lenovo Flex 6-14IKB Laptop Type 81EM. I want to know if there is a way to run 2 (or more) monitors showing different displays. I can make it do a "stretched" display across both the laptop and external monitor's screens, but I want two external monitors (my widescreen (HDMI) and a portable (mini-HDMI or USB-C)) displaying different content. I want to run .pdfs on the portable and Excel/Word on the main monitor. I don't care if the laptop screen shows anything, it's so small it's hard for me to read anyway.
Now, my wife was able to make the above hookup happen on her janky old HP work laptop, so I know I ought to be able to go HDMI to the primary and USB-C to the portable (with a second USB-C for power). But when I try to do that, the secondary doesn't show anything. I must use a HDMI to mini-HDMI to get a picture on the portable, which means I can't display on the primary. I've also tried a couple multi-function adapters to get a second HDMI port, but that didn't work out either -- though I admit that could be on me for not buying a higher-end model. But why would I spend more money on something that isn't working out?
Now my wife wants to get a nicer laptop dock, one with lots of USB ports and a couple HDMI/Display Ports among other things. So, the question is: is my laptop simply incapable of taking advantage of it? Did I get lured in by the sweet, sweet touchscreen (that I virtually never use) and foldableness of the Yoga, and screw myself with lack of capability?

I know it might be a little late to be talking about/sharing info about the primary app, but I wanted to share the nuggets I've learned from my experience through 2 application cycles. Your application is a single narrative that starts with your personal statement and continues with your work & activities section, secondaries, and later on, interviews.
[Background: 27/F, ORM, biochem degree from public state school, 3.6cGPA, 518 MCAT, 5 (!) gap years in a completely different area, minor undergrad research w/o pubs, 1200+ hrs scribing, athlete background. 5 II, 2 A, 3 W -> A at dream T5 school]
On paper, I didn't really have a chance to get anywhere prestigious but I think all the other parts of my app besides my GPA and MCAT were what got the job done. DO NOT underestimate the power of good writing. It is the only way the first reviewers of your app will get to know you besides your stats before moving you to the yes or no pile.
PS:
The beginning of the thread you weave for your story starts with your personal statement. Some key principles imo:
- A lot of people tend to lose sight of the fact that your statement should be a journey. Imagine your life like a kid's story ride at an amusement park. Take the reader through your growth - where you started, where you've been, and where you want to go. What has cultivated your strengths? What have you done to continue to grow? How has this prepared you for the insane path that is medicine?
- Don't explain yourself. We all have shortcomings, but don't make your entire statement/app about them - your goal is to make your growth & overall strengths outweigh what happened. Again, paint it as a journey. (Let's hope you did do better lol.)
- Remember the story writing principles you learned in 9th grade English? They still apply. An intro that catches the reader (but do not go for shock value because it will read like an actual 9th grade paper), a paragraph order that makes sense, and a strong wrap up/closer that reminds the reader of the most important pieces you want them to walk away with.
- The primary reviewers are seeing literal thousands of these essays; they are going cross-eyed with "I knew I wanted to be a doctor when I looked into the patient's eyes and saw gratitude for the small amount of help I could give" and "I've wanted to be a doctor since I was 5". If you have an app that will rely on the other parts of you (i.e. not your GPA/MCAT) to stand out, this is where you can do it. Brainstorm hard on a narrative, try to avoid the stereotypical stories, and write like the wind. You will likely go through many drafts. That's okay.
W&A:
One thing that I really leaned on was using my work & activities section as offshoots of my personal statement. Things that I couldn't get into because of the character limit or wordiness in the PS, I expounded on in the W&A. I used certain key words that were foundational to the app identity I was building throughout all of it to create a unified body of work, in a way. Of course, you don't want to err on the side of repetitive, but you do want to sound committed to the plot. I think this strategy with the W&A is very strong in, again (say it with me this time) building a strong narrative.
Secondaries:
Which brings us to your secondaries. After writing 40 of them, I know there are general themes that most, if not all, schools will ask you about. (The classics: diversity, a Challenge, meaningful clinical experience, and the now-not-so-new COVID essay). You can get started with pre-writing for them, keeping in mind that these secondaries are, what? A continuation of your narrative. Answer the questions (dear god, make sure you answer the question being asked) clearly, but drop tie-ins with the overall principles/points/thesis statement of your primary app. If you're going for quantity in your secondaries, understand that your submission strategy will also affect the essay's quality - as in, I know for sure that my later essays were better than my earliest submissions because I had a chance to edit. Each time I looped a previous essay in, I would tinker with it a bit and it would come out a better version. Use your previous writing to feed your next secondary. No need to start fresh every time, unless the app is trying to be all ~special~ (I'm looking at you, Miami and Duke). Keep going. You'll finish eventually.
Interviews:
And finally, your interviews. It's too early so I might write about this more later on (as my media training history has helped a lot), but simple points: All the standards of practice are standards for a reason; trust and follow them. Dress clean, look professional, simple or tasteful backgrounds (I personally don't love a blurred Zoom background, but I understand some people are limited in options), speak with a good cadence, and most importantly, know your application inside and out. Anything you write is fair game. Have the anecdotes to back anything up. Be confident. Smile. But until then, best of luck getting into those (Zoom) rooms.

Age - 22
Sex - Male
Height - 5’10
Weight - 141
Location - Central Massachusetts
Current medications - SSRI
About a month ago I went on a long three day walk with some friends through rural Massachusetts. Most of it was spent on the sides of highways but some of it was on pastures and through farms. We briefly spent a few hours in a cabin which we found some ticks in but none of us seemed to get bit.
One full day after staying in that cabin I found a swelling bite on my arm, probably around 4-5 inches in length. I did not think much of it as approximately 1 in every 5 mosquito bites I get has a bit of similar reaction (swelling, bigger than usual rash, stinging sensation). However, once I got into work 2 or the med students I worked with saw it and immediately suggested I go to urgent care. I did and waited two hours before having to leave for reasons. I planned on going again the next day but the bite was basically fully healed. The redness was still visible but there was no swelling, stinging, hardness, and barely even itching.
I flew home a week later when I showed the photos to a couple of doctor friends that recommend I go to urgent care again in case of Lyme disease. They would not at UC see me as the bite and rash was all gone.
I am am currently taking 50mg of doxycycline twice a day but my esophagus is hurting constantly. It feels like I have spicy tortilla chips stuck in my throat which makes it hard to fully breathe and especially swallow.
I was wondering what you would recommend? Should I attempt to get a blood test for Lyme disease? Just stay on antibiotics? Both? Neither? What do you think?
Thank you :)

I live in a pretty small town with a limited selection of healthcare providers. The closest appointment I could schedule for my first visit is when I will be exactly 13w. I found about being pregnant rather late though. This is my first pregnancy and I’m very nervous about it. There are options to go out of town, but it will be about 2 hours drive one way. I still keep that option in mind, however I don’t feel comfortable with that long of a drive. On a bright side, I only heard good things about my future OB in my town. I tried to ask my primary to order ultrasound to ease my mind, but they said it’s better just to wait for my OB appointment.
The doctors office said they will do an ultrasound during the appointment and then order official ultrasound and blood work. I have no idea how things are supposed to be done and since my husband and I haven’t announced it, I don’t really have anyone to ask those questions. There are just so many concerns that I’m worried about and I feel stuck.
So far I have been feeling pretty fine with some mild symptoms. I have high blood pressure but got it under control and switched to pregnant-friendly medication with my primary as soon as I found out I’m expecting. I have also been taking prenatal vitamins and watching my diet.
I would appreciate any thoughts!

Im 38 year very old guy without world scale problems, not looking for any help, vent or rant. Well maybe a bit for work but that's normal and healthy for your blood vessels. If not they will go boom. So here looking for some people to chat with. If it will be serious chats, deep ones, fun ones or silly and meaningless its fine as long as you know how to put together some words.
Drop some lines and lets start.
To help with your first message:

• Im here really for just chats. Might reply with delay cause we all have lives and timezone is a bi.
  
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August 2, 2018
So frequently we have seen the figure of the child deployed to moralize what should be political. Family values campaigns. Pro-life propaganda. Today, this moralization is what distinguishes the rhetoric of families belong together from the insistence that no human should be caged.
In extracting "the family" as the ideological backbone of mass resistance to ICE, however, many questions are in danger of evaporating into moralistic rhetorics. For liberals and conservatives alike, the idea of children is a political instrument to which various radical traditions have developed a healthy aversion. Yet as a result, there is a scarcity of anti-capitalist thought about children.
These are some notes written in a moment of urgency, a moment when the idea of children demands more rigorous consideration.
"… but what about the children?"
We're all familiar with the cliché—but what about the children? We hear this, all too often, as a conservative trope that has little at all, in fact, to do with children.
With innocence as its baseline, the liberal idea of children seeks to make natural (but also to moralize) a property relation between child and parent. "Innocence" is code for powerless—a way to fetishize the child as both dependent and sub-human.
This idea of the child is indistinct from private property. And it is likewise through the logic of private property that Trump justifies family separations: "when you prosecute the parents for coming in illegally—which should happen—you have to take the children away." This logic of the parent-child property relation is why Jeff Sessions can speak of children like a bag of cocaine: "If you are smuggling a child then we will prosecute you, and that child will be separated from you as required by law. If you don't like that, then don't smuggle children over our border."
In liberal critiques of Trump's zero tolerance policy, we can locate an important contradiction in the idea of children. On the one hand, the child is an idealized subject, whose ostensible innocence is formed in contrast to an articulation of adulthood as guilty, complicit, and flawed. On the other hand, the child is perpetually subordinated, not only understood as property, but as unthinking and without agency.
To what extent can this contradiction be not only undermined, but refused? Rarely has the rejection of the child's political instrumentality been in the service of children.
Too often the rejection of the child's instrumentality in the false binary of the U.S. political landscape has been in the formulation of an entirely adult-centered conception of political practice. So as not to deploy the figure of the child as an ideological tool, perhaps, the left has made little room for these concerns at all. However centered on the "adult" as political subject, such political conceptualizations exclude more than just children, and even the vast majority of adults. Implicit in this idea of adulthood is a version of neoliberal "self-sufficiency": the promise of an autonomous, market-mediated individualism, whose lack of social resources is a mark of independence. This idea of adulthood excludes many adults—it is not about age, but the non-recognition of care.
What is keeping us from politicizing these problems?
The idea and the material reality of children being "taken away" cannot be imagined as theft: we must insist that this is a discrete form of torture. The distinct horror of the "tender age facility" is precisely this: a separation not from The Family, but from care. Children come into this world, inspiringly, without an ideology of property relations, yet with an undeniable need to be cared for.
Bringing care to the foreground of our political outrage, while disassociating from the ideological pressure to embrace institutions of private property, can be a way to insist that no human should be caged. All humans need care, and need care differently. The child is not the only way of understanding this, though as a caretaker of a six-year old, this is how I am reminded of this throughout most hours of the day.
The Care Crisis
More and more, we hear the present moment described in terms of a care crisis. The accelerated privatization of care is a regime of coerced care labor. It's estimated that 16 million Americans perform the role of a primary caretaker unwaged. Neoliberal economic policies, as Evelyn Nakano Glenn writes, have "exacerbat[ed] the care crisis by intensifying the conflicts between caring and earning and increasing the stresses on caregivers, both unpaid and paid." [1] With the dissolution of the family wage, this "care crisis" must be understood more systemically: Nancy Fraser argues "the crisis of social reproduction is not freestanding and cannot be adequately grasped on its own," suggesting that the focus on care should come with a broader theory of "general crisis." [2]
The focus on care presents an opportunity for broadening and making legible a politics of family abolition. However, this opportunity will be missed without a keen sense of the demands of care, particularly the labors performed seemingly out of love under social conditions of No Alternative.
In feminist traditions of family abolitionism, these questions rush to the surface. That is: how does the revolutionary horizon of the end of "the family" as a unit of private property mobilize us toward a fuller, less exploitive vision of care? [3] This longing for collective caretaking must be hand-in-hand with any discourse against the family—otherwise doomed to logics of self-management and autonomy. The alternative posed by family abolition cannot, in other words, be a matter of self-imposed austerity on behalf of neoliberal capitalism. Rather than orienting toward this question of abolition in negational terms—withdrawing, undoing, subtracting—how might alternatives to The Family be made imaginable and practicable as a political project of dismantling capitalism's care crisis?
Abolish the Family For Kids

"The purpose of a thought-experiment [is] not to predict the future… but to describe reality, the present world." – Ursula K. Le Guin [4]

It is an unspoken truth that while many children fear adults, many adults also fear children. How would you talk to a child about family abolition? How would you frame a critique of white bourgeois patriarchy, the institution of marriage, the logic of private property? What language would you use? Do you feel it would have to be over-simplified, dumbed down, uncritical? Why? What would you have to do to your own thinking in this process? What would you have to ask yourself?
The child's imagination is one of the most vital models we have for the project of ideologically disrupting capitalist realist epistemologies—confronting the rationalist rebukes of liberalism that systematically infantilize revolutionary politics. [5] But this critical capacity we encounter in thinking with and learning from children remains politically untapped and socially devalued, throughout even our most radical traditions of thought.
Caring for children can be an ongoing tragedy of naturalizing capitalism in order to survive in it.
Yet caring for children can also entail questioning the idea that there is no alternative to capitalism. We teach our kids about stealing—either not to steal, or how not to get caught—but how do we do this without leaving private property uninterrogated?
How do we make use of commune, in this sense, as the anti-family?
Willful Children
Colonial rule has imagined and positioned the colonized as children and animals. The willful child, as Sara Ahmed suggests, is the story of the subaltern: "addressed as a member of the subordinate class," Ahmed writes, the willful child "is subordinate when she refuses to be a member of that class. The demand to be willing [is] articulated as the demand to obey the colonizer (who takes the place of the parent): the rod comes to embody his sovereign will."
Ahmed leaves us with this imperative:
"We must learn from where and when the willful child comes up. As soon as she appears, the rod comes quickly after her. She tells us what might happen if we refuse to give up. She tells us what we become when we keep coming up, when we protest against the violence of the rod, when we challenge how some are beaten as if beating is a right: black bodies, brown bodies. Some have to become willful to survive a history." [6]
No Borders: Abolish Adulthood

"Sometimes I think the conditions of daily life, of everyday oppressions, of survival, not to mention the temporary pleasures accessible to most of us, render much of our imagination inert. We are constantly putting out fires, responding to emergencies, finding temporary refuge, all of which make it difficult to see anything other than the present… When movements have been unable to clear the clouds, it has been the poets—no matter the medium—who have succeeded in imagining the color of the sky, in rendering the kinds of dreams and futures social movements are capable of producing. Knowing the color of the sky is far more important than counting the clouds." – Robin D.G. Kelley [7]

On the one hand, this is a demand for child-inclusivity in our political struggles. We have left children to be the concern of the right—a right for which the fetus is more important than the child, precisely because the issue has nothing to do with children but with property. On the other hand, this is a critique of an ideology of "child-inclusivity," to the extent that such inclusion always already renders children marginal to the ostensibly "adult world" of political struggles.
More than de-centering the adult from revolutionary thought, the border between child and adult must be abolished. As in any abolitionist project, imaginability is an integral problem. This is a problem that's necessarily taken up in revolutionary terms. That is: how do we re-think the adult-child relationship as one of mutual care and learning? How do we take up the challenges of comradeship, without leaving the concept of childhood unquestioningly defined by capital?
In the tradition of feminist utopian thought, these questions have been explored more deeply than elsewhere, while leaving open certain points of inquiry yet to be politically awakened. In The Dialectic of Sex, for instance, Shulamith Firestone projects a revolutionary horizon [...] [8] As in her thorny, often categorically confused explorations of "sex," Firestone writes through an ongoing friction with conditions of unimaginability. [...] her text is about the trying and failing to imagine a world of freedom, fundamentally antagonistic toward the social totality for which this freedom appears impossible, even "unnatural."
Through a framework of care and comradeship, the imaginability of shared non-adulthood can be more delicately engaged than it is in Firestone's vision, predicated on forgotten histories of child abuse. Illuminating different thresholds of imaginability, care helps us to renegotiate the proprietary relationship of adult and child—to undo the transhistorical character of the white bourgeois "family" with more expansive forms of mutual caring. While this un-bordered world is unthinkable without total revolution, these questions get us closer to the thinkability of revolution, sharpening our politics for making such a future, and strengthening our capacities to struggle collectively. It is a start, among many others.
Notes and Citations
[1] Evelyn Nakano Glenn, Forced to Care: Coercion and Caregiving in America, Harvard University Press, 2000
[2] Nancy Fraser, "Contradictions of Capital and Care," New Left Review, July-August 2016
[3] bell hooks articulates this intervention with great clarity: "problematically, for the most part feminist thinkers have never wanted to call attention to the reality that women are often the primary culprits in everyday violence against children simply because they are the primary parental caregivers. While it was crucial and revolutionary that the feminist movement called attention to the fact that male domination in the home often creates an autocracy where men sexually abuse children, the fact is that masses of children are daily abused verbally and physically by women and men. Maternal sadism often leads women to emotionally abuse children, and feminist theory has not yet offered both feminist critique and feminist intervention when the issue is adult female violence against children." ("Feminist Parenting," Feminism is for Everybody, South End Press, 2000)
[4] Ursula K Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness, introduction
[5] This includes more recently the infantilization of precarity, as a dominant form of unquestioning neoliberal austerity. As Johanna Isaacson writes, "The ideologeme of 'maturity' as deployed against youthful, utopian uprisings in the struggle against austerity, serves to create an epistemological framework that combines an ethics of ascesis, patriarchal familial structures, and naturalized hierarchical global uneven development in a blinding constellation. This understanding of maturity—insisting that there is no alternative to harsh austerity for ordinary people (as large financial institutions are bailed out)—has become hegemonic in our moment." (See: "Life Versus Survival in Tangerine," Blind Field, August 11, 2015)
[6] Sara Ahmed, Living a Feminist Life, Duke University Press, 2017
[7] Robin D.G. Kelley, Freedom Dreams: The Black Radical Imagination, Beacon Press, 2002
[8] [...] Problematically, yet consistent with the text's foundational contradiction, Firestone conflates the distinction between adult/child with that of male/female—a biological framework that struggles to untangle a theory of "culture." Elsewhere, I more deeply pry into some of these integral problems in Firestone's project, while here I want to emphasize the strong correspondence between her utopian method and her vision of "feminist revolution."