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iamsashagay · 5 years

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RP Month 2019!

Those of you who have had the (mis)fortune of following me on social media for a while, you know February is Retinitis Pigmentosa Awareness Month. Which means I get to write a bunch about myself and my life and nobody can judge me too hard about it! Yay! I thought this year I’d try to be a bit more #enlightened and talk about language surrounding visual impairment and the ableism that is so persistent in our lives. (For reference, I’ve already written a bunch about my diagnosis and what dealing with it has been like). If you don’t want to read a whole lot of words, here’s a brief summary and some updates.

- I was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa in the fall of 2015 with an approximately 60 degree field of vision (180 degrees is ‘normal’

- I was told I would likely be legally blind by 40, if not by 35

- I was referred to the CNIB and started accessing their services (such as orientation and mobility training, getting a CNIB bus pass) in the spring/summer of 2016

- In 2017, my peripheral vision continued to erode and I lost roughly 1/3rd of my visual acuity in my right eye

- As of my most recent eye appointment, my field of vision has degraded to about 25-30 degrees (combined). I have no peripheral vision at all at this point. - Based on the rate of my vision loss since my diagnosis, I’ll probably be legally blind far before my doctors’ initial estimation (legally blind is defined as an individual having a 20 degree or less field of vision)

- I went back to school (yay me!) last month and I’ve been *pretty* good about using my white cane to get around and forcing myself to get more comfortable with my reality as a ~blind~ person

And that’s what you missed! I’m also gonna sprinkle in some of my favorite RP Truth memes because they’re wonderful and make me feel seen (no pun intended). So having lived in this shit for the past few years and having to…let people know what’s going on, I’ve heard a lot said about my vision loss from (often) well-meaning people. Probably my biggest pet peeve re: vision loss talk is the initial conversation I have with people when they either find out about my condition or when they feel comfortable asking me about my blindness. Inevitably, the first question people leap to is “is there a treatment? Is there a cure?!”It’s an innocent enough set of questions, and I truly believe there’s good intent behind asking them.

The issue I have is that, with my condition, there…isn’t. There is no viable course of treatment, nor is there anything resembling a real-world cure. Which inevitably leads to “well they’re doing great things with rats and genetics and science is wonderful I know they’ll have a cure for you soon!” Which, again, is meant to sound supportive, encouraging, and positive. It’s what people have trained themselves to say when they’re confronted with something like blindness.

Think about this conversation for a moment. It is inherently ableist. The entire sequence (and it’s a very predictable one once you’ve sat through it a few dozen times at minimum) suggests that the only response to losing one’s vision is to immediately *fix* the problem. It tells people like me that we’re broken. That we need to be solved. It tells me that a reality where I just *accept* my genetic coding isn’t a viable one. That the thought of existing while blind is so disturbing that it should be completely leapt over to fixing the problem so that scenario never happens. Sure, it’s not intentional. That doesn’t change the meaning behind those words, well-intentioned as they tend to be. The words are ableist because they imply that I could not be productive, or valuable, or happy the way I am. They say that I must want to change a fundamental part of my existence. Why? Why is the default not to ask

- How are you handling this?

- How can I make this easier?

- What are your plans for the future?

- Do you have the support you need?

- Can I make this space more accessible for you?

Those questions don’t spring into people’s minds because our society has so deeply ingrained ableism into our vocabulary that we act on the presumption that it is the disabled individual’s existence that needs to be altered, and not the environment that sets them up on an unequal playing field.

Telling me that I should hold out hope for a cure that may never come, or may never be accessible to me, is akin to telling me that I should just lay down and let the world do her thing and passively accept whatever comes. I understand fully that when people have this conversation with me they aren’t *actually* trying to make that statement. Five years ago, those are the questions I would ask. I struggled for a really long time (fuck, I still struggle) to just accept my reality- to accept that this was simply something I was going to live with and that I needed to work within the circumstances I had been given. That, however, does not absolve people from the responsibility to look at why they are so uncomfortable with the thought of someone not being wholly invested in being “cured” or why I might not be interested in investing my energy into hoping and dreaming for science to bring back my vision.

Why do we think a life with vision loss is such a devastating notion? Why is my lack of peripheral vision such a scary thing people to think about? When we skip over these questions, we skip over what really matters: that the society we inhabit is not designed for people with disabilities. We focus all our energy into fixing disabilities because we’d rather ignore how poorly individuals with disabilities are treated and how inaccessible we have made the world for them.

I’m not able to speak for people who have other disabilities than mine, or even those who have different forms of vision loss than me, but I encourage you to seek out their work if you’re so inclined. We all experience our environments differently, but I think it’s safe to say the consensus is that living with a disability isn’t necessarily the problem – the problem is how we are expected to behave with our disabilities. We are expected to return to an “able” state as quickly and inspirationally as possible, or to step back and become passive members of society so as to not trouble the abled people around us.

Existing as someone who is blind is not revolutionary. I am not revolutionary for returning to school for a career that is more in line with the abilities I have now and will have in the future. I am not revolutionary for navigating downtown streets with a white cane. I am not revolutionary for holding down a job – and being *good* at that job (although given 80% of people who are legally blind are unemployed…it’s easy to see why that’s an assumption). I am not revolutionary for getting coffee from Tim Horton’s in the morning. I am not a token for you to look at and say “and we think we have problems” while gesturing to your coworkers. That’s some next-level ableist bullshit. All I wanted was a double double that morning, and that lady at the counter thought it was acceptable for her to treat me as an example of how cruel life could be. She dehumanized me. Fuck that shit.

I’m going to go a little bit off on a side tangent here; feel free to skip down a lil’ if you’d rather not read this rant. In addition to the above, you know what else is not revolutionary? My love life. It is not revolutionary that I have a partner who loves me. It is not revolutionary that Joey deems me worthy of his time, or his respect, or his love. He does not get an award for being audacious enough to be in a relationship with someone who is disabled. He does not get to be the ‘better’ partner in our relationship because he is willing to somehow be chained to my crippled existence. We joke about it, because humor is how I cope with a lot of things, but at the end of the day, he is not *brave* for “seeing past” my blindness. So when you see us looking cute on the gram or him by my side at the mall when I’ve got my cane out – don’t chalk him up to being a wonderful supportive partner because he is willing to accept my disability. Joey is a wonderful and supportive partner because he gives me space to explore who I want to be. He is a wonderful and supportive partner because he is without fail by my side even when I do a shitty job of prioritizing him. Joey is a wonderful and supportive person because he wants me to be independent. His love has been unconditional for over seven and a half years, and my diagnosis did not change his love for me. Do not disrespect his loyalty and love for me by suggesting he is the best example of what a man can be because he doesn’t treat me differently for my blindness. That’s the goddamn minimum. That is the lowest bar to meet. I am fucking worthy of love with or without my vision, with or without my hearing. My value is not tied to how able-bodied I may or may not be.

My abiity to pretend to be able bodied is not something to applaud me for. I am very good at pretending to see more than I often can – to the point where I’ve had people who’ve never seen me use my cane be shocked when they find out how little vision I have left.

I am not revolutionary for giving back to my community through my volunteer work. Blind people are not heroes for doing the same things you and the able-bodied people around you do.

Do you know why inspiration porn exists? It’s because our world expects disabled people to fail. It’s because deep down, you know how little thought is given to making accessibility the default. You know that disabled people have to work harder and do more to be “normal” just because of the way things are. That’s why you ask me when I’ll be cured.

The idea of someone being visually impaired and not having an escape plan from that reality is deeply uncomfortable, because it means confronting how basic things are designed to be exclusionary.

It means realizing how shitty this city is to navigate as a pedestrian. It means noticing that we’re okay with people placing any and all manner of obstacles in the middle of sidewalks, from signs, to bowls of water, to clothing racks. It means recognizing how little people give a fuck about others. Just today as I was making my way downtown (walking fast, faces past) on the subway, a man with a seeing eye dog got on the train. Who do you think was the only person on the entire train who thought to give him their seat? It was me and my white cane who gave up their seat – while the lady next to me bent over in her fucking seat to pet the man’s SERVICE DOG. I was livid.

We pretend to be doing our part to be ‘inclusive’ and ‘improving accessibility’ while avoiding doing the actual work. The TTC for example, gives the CNIB transit passes to distribute to their clients so they can access public transit for free. I’d love to applaud them for that. I cannot, however, because they apparently forgot to train their employees on how to deal with visually impaired people who use the cards. It is *not*, as occurred the other week, to berate riders about not “showing the card properly” or “not waiting for an empty bus” and then getting on the intercom to lecture said rider about how “if they were smart enough to be going to school they should be smart enough to ride the bus” in front of sixty people. That is no accessible. It is not accessible when I complain both publicly and privately to the TTC about said incident and their initial response is not to be outraged that the incident took place, but rather to let me know their vehicle operators are “trained in how to accept fares”. (It’s been over two weeks since I submitted an official complaint. I’ll let you guess if I was graced with any formof a response other than a “we received your complaint” form email). The TTC is ableist. The TTC is a problem.

The problem is not my vision. The system is designed to burn us out so we don’t scream about the injustice of how we treat people whose DNA skipped a few lines. It’s exhausting trying to keep up with people who don’t have to give a second thought to where curbs are, or which seat on the subway is the easiest to get off from, or remember which set of stairs has the awkward landing on it, or how to hold a cane and a backpack and a phone at the same time. I’m okay with that though, because I’m learning to adapt. I’m unlearning a lifetime of ableist thinking. I’m proving my worth to myself. I’m doing good.

Just please stop asking me about a cure. I don’t have the time, because I’m busy trying to get my coffee (probably).

#retinitis pigmentosa #RP #blind #blindness #retinitis pigmentosa awareness month #ableism #rp truths

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 3 years

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Maybe a fic with serena zhang where mc is going blind (not of old age tho, just because sickness you know...) and the reaction of serena and maybe the mc is reassuring her and fluffs things like that ?

Warning: Writer’s first time writing a visually impaired character. Condition referenced is Retinitis Pigmentosa.

...

There’s the flutter of sheets beside you, a small sigh. The sound catches on the edges of your dreams, satin soft. The bed dips just slightly. You can feel a warm presence hover right over you, and it doesn’t take much to figure out who it is.

You keep your eyes closed, waiting. The presence hesitates. Itches closer, like a wary cat, then stops. There’s a small pause before Serena starts pulling away, and you almost want to roll your eyes.

Really? She’s never this bashful. She’s usually on top of you as soon as she wakes up.

“Well, if you won’t do it, I will.”

She lets out a small squeak as you reach for her, managing to grab her arm. The kiss you pull her into is sweet and short, vibrant with loving energy. She leans back slightly, just enough to mutter:

“I didn’t want to wake you…”

So you pull her back in, smiling into the kiss. One of her hands settle on your hips easily, effortlessly, and you hum in delight at her touch.

“You’re being silly.”

“Sorry about that. How do you feel?”

“I’m fine.”

And you are. There’s no pain, just a slight discomfort… you hadn’t become aware of it immediately, anyway. Serena had been the first to tell you that you had been squinting your eyes a lot recently, but that wasn’t surprising. Out of everyone in the island, she’s the one that paid attention to you the most.

It had been a small ‘huh’ from your part. It wasn’t a bit concern, maybe you were just tired… but then you had begun stumbling more often when you walked in darker places. It began taking longer and longer for your eyes to adjust to darkness, and that had caught your attention a bit more, and you had frowned and thought that maybe it was because of winter—somehow, someway—and everything was just… darker. Looking at it back now, it was a very silly theory.

And then the edges of your vision just began to… chip away. There was an initial blurriness and then nothing, like covering your left eye and trying to see through it anyway. There was just nothing there. You had to turn your head to see things at your sides. Serena’s detail-driven mind had noticed right away, maybe even before you had realized it was happening, and you could feel the confusion and worry in her expression from miles away.

She had confronted you about it the night before. Her words had been like a heavy waterfall, snapping out of the daze you had been in, because somehow you had convinced yourself nothing was wrong along the way.

Well. There was no use ignoring it, was there? You needed to push through. It would be fine—it would change things, but not for the worse. It would just be… different.

“No headaches?” Your wife continues. She looks beautiful, dark hair spilling over her shoulders like a cool night, and you grin softly at her. You don’t know how of your vision you would lose, so you’d rather commit her image to memory just to be safe. Not that it was hard—she lived in your mind rent-free.

“No, the one I had yesterday disappeared pretty quickly.”

“Try not to strain your eyes too much. You’ll just get another one that way.”

“Right.”

“I… I would prefer if we went back with Clyde next time he comes. It should be in a few days—”

“Huh? To California?”

“Anywhere is fine, really. Anywhere that has a competent ophthalmologist, at any rate.”

“But—”

“Please,” she says, quietly, chocolate eyes sad and dull like aged wood, and the word curls around your heart and stays there like a cold chill. “Please. I just want to confirm you’re safe.”

“…alright.” You reach for her once again and pull her close, holding her there as if she were the only source of warmth in your life. In a sense, she is. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, babe—I’ll always listen to your concerns.”

“Thank you for that, Aura.”

“It’s also a great chance to introduce you to my parents formally. I know they aren’t satisfied with just letters.”

“Mm, you should meet my mom, too. She’s a bit eccentric, but nothing that will embarrass me too hard.”

“If she is as sarcastic as you are, I feel like it’ll become a roast session soon enough.”

“You might be disappointed.”

You shrug. “Eh, I’ll live. Anyway, we’ll be gone for a month, right? I’ll need to search for a substitute… classes just started, too…”

“It… might be a bit longer.”

That’s surprising. “Really? I thought you wouldn’t like to stay longer… but it’s alright! I’ll work something out for the school.”

“I’ll tell you how long later. We need to tell Angelo.”

“Yeah, we probably should… and Serena? Thank you. For looking out for me.”

“I’ll always look out for you, Aura. You are my whole world.”

Red tints your cheeks, a pleasant buzz rolling lazily down your spine at her words. “You are perfect, Serena. I just—I love you so much…”

She grins, her worry from earlier properly squashed. “I know. I love you too.”

…

Talking things out with Angelo and Olivia could be going better, you think.

“So Aura is going blind, then?” Olivia asks, surprise in her voice. “We could try to put something together—”

“No.” Serena’s voice is flat and cold, analytical. “Nothing of the sort. Not for this.”

You can imagine the way Olivia’s expression schools at the words, like it had all those years ago, when Serena had challenged her methods.

“We’ve been through this, Serena, and we agreed—”

“I know what we agreed, but this is not our specialty, Olivia. We won’t know what to look for, and messing around could prove disastrous. We’re practically setting everything up for a misdiagnosis if—”

“Well, maybe the spirits—”

“Don’t bring them into this. I don’t want to think about any magical related treatment right now, I only want to know what is happening.”

“C’mon, from her symptoms it can’t be something like Ocular Melanoma.”

Serena’s shoulders loosen just slightly, but she doesn’t hesitate when she turns towards Angelo. Your vision isn’t too damaged to keep you from telling key changes in her expression yet, and the face she wears now is stone-cold determination.

“We’re going back with Clyde. We’ll return in eight months or so.”

“Hold on, eight months?” You pipe up, stunned beyond measure.

“The diagnosis won’t take long, but there are some things we should do and I figured we could use it as a vacation, too.”

A vacation, she says, as if you weren’t already living in a dream island. It’s a pretty cozy place, the sole thought of reintegrating society and the chaotic tempo it operated in—with honking cars and yelling citizens and loud parties at every turn—make your head spin.

“Oh, you want to get O&M for Aura?” Olivia says, and there’s a special sort of softness in her voice now, as if it was something she hadn’t considered before.

“O&M?” Angelo asks, interested. “Sounds fun.”

“Mm, I don’t know about the fun part, but it is necessary. Only if the condition gets worse, of course, but I don’t like taking any chances.” Your wife explains, more relaxed now that she sees no one is jumping to fight her.

“Wait, but what is that?” You ask, frowning slightly at the unknown term.

There’s the thump of boots by your right—turning your head reveals a grinning Olivia.

“Things like learning braille and moving around with a cane. It’s rad stuff.”

“Braille? Uh, no offense Serena, but there aren’t many books in the island to begin with…”

“We’ll go shopping once we’re there. I wanted to buy some medical texts too. Clyde always manages to bring me old versions of the books I request…”

“I feel like you should have told me this sooner.”

“It’s quick—shouldn’t take more than six months.” Olivia intervenes, humming to herself. “And you’d need a cane too… we don’t have the resources to produce aluminum ones…”

“I’d be okay with a plain wood one, you know...”

#Anonymous #answered #lovestruck #serena zhang #lovestruck serena #serena x mc #castaway #lovestruck castaway #castaway serena #fluff

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sunflowerryvol6 · 3 years

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Pigments

Warnings : angst, mentions of blood

WC : 2k

Hey! so I've got all these angsty prompts anywho, hope you like this. This the first time I've had an OC, so let me know if you like that? This came together, quite quickly, so the edit might be a little choppy. Feedback and ideas are always welcome!

Masterlist

happy reading!

"Lovie! You can't be knocking things in your wake, gotta be a little more careful y'know?" He said.

Nylah froze. "I'm sorry, H. I guessed I misjudged the distance?" she nervously giggled.

"S'okay, you good? You don't sound all too convinced about that?"

"Nope. All good, I guess it was a little foggy, nothing too serious."

"Okay, if you say so." That response didn't convince him, though. Ever since the patio incident, he'd been keeping a close eye on you. He had a feeling she'd been hiding something. But he wasn't sure enough to call her out on it. He was waiting to see if she'd come to him first. Even if she was the stubborn one between the two, he would let it go for today, and no one wants to argue on the weekend, right?

He wishes he'd had that argument and taken one for the team because maybe then he could have avoided this phone call altogether. Or that's what he tells himself.

Nylah had taken a significant fall at work, slipped down the stairs and hurt her head, and they said she was bleeding. That's all he heard before he made a mad dash to his car to get to his fiance. His heart was racing; he couldn't piece any information together. He remembered to make a quick call to his mother; asked her to call Nylah's mum and meet him at the hospital. As far as any information went, Nylah was still unconscious, so that they wouldn't allow him in with her.

"Well, I'm her husband. You've got to let me stay with her. What if she wakes up and there's no one beside her? Please, let me go see her."

"I'm so sorry sir; She's getting her stitches now. You can wait outside the procedure room, and they'll let you in as soon as it's completed." the nurse says.

Amid this argument, Anne comes rushing through. "What's going on? have you been in to see her yet? have they given you any update?"

"No. we're waiting on them to finish stitching her up. After that the doctor will come and speak with us, I suppose. I don't know why I didn't pay more attention, maybe she was sick and didn't tell me? I mean, I should have noticed, right?" Harry was finding it hard to not tear up with anxiety.

"Harry, what's happened has happened. You just need to make sure she's okay now", and on that cue, the doctor walked in to greet them.

"Are you with Ms Jones?" The doctor asks

"Yeah, I'm her husband. Is she okay? How bad was the fall?"

"It's not too bad, but my concern is more to how she fell. Do you know if your wife has a history of fainting spells? or balance issues? could be one of the reasons she could have taken the tumble."

"None that I'm aware of. Nylah does have low blood sugar, but she is good at keeping that in check and, as far as I recall, she hasn't fainted from a low sugar spell in a few months. But why is that a concern? I mean, it could have just been that she tripped, right?"

"We're just trying cover our bases, Mr.-" He looks at Harry as if to ask your name

"Styles." He responds.

"Okay, well, Mr Styles, you may go keep your wife company now. The nurses will let us know when's she awake, and we can have a chat then."

"Thank you." and He turns to what he assumes Nylah's room is and walks in to see her still unconscious.

"Hey kid, I'm so happy to see you; gave us a proper scare. I'm going to be right here beside you when you wake up." He coos. Harry sits down beside her bed and reaches for her hand. He's too fidgety from anxiety to stop his knees from bobbing up and down. Still thinking about what the doctor said. Could it not have been a trip up? Could she have fainted, and no one was there to help her break the fall?

She was doing so well with keeping her sugar levels in check, and maybe she slipped up? All these questions were running amuck in his mind, and he couldn't make sense of it.

In his anxiety spiral, he had utterly missed that Nylah was coming to it. She was slowly peeking through her lids as if the lights were too much for her. Harry quickly stands up. "Baby! Are you okay? Does your head hurt? I'm going to call the nurse for you, okay?"

"Woah, slow down, H, I'm okay. Can you please ask them to dim the lights? It's too much for my head right now." She winces.

"Yes, let me call the nurse for you."

"hey! Did you press the call button? Good to see you're awake, Ms Jones."

"Yeah, she just about woke up. Could we please dim down the lights in here a bit? She's finding it a little difficult to open her eyes because of it."

"Okay, sure, let me inform the doctor, and I'll see about the lights."

"Thank you."

"So, what happened? Did you feel lightheaded? missed lunch or something?"

"Okay, so I mean, my vision has been getting kinda blurry of late? I don't know what that's about like I can't see things that might be in my surrounding that well." Harry looked like he wanted to cut her off but let her continue.

"Before you say anything, I didn't want to worry you, and I wasn't worried either until today. I thought I would take the stairs today, and they were white? And I couldn't place my feet. Because I couldn't tell them apart" She was tearing up.

"Hey, it's okay, we'll figure it out, okay? It's probably nothing. Don't worry about it. You're fine, and that's more than enough for now." Harry soothed her. But he really didn't know if it was going to be okay.

When the doctor came, they relayed the same information to him. he suggested getting some tests done to check her diabetes and vision. She's only 25, so it's highly unlikely it's anything major, or at least that's what they thought.

---

Everything will be okay, is what Nyah kept telling herself, but who was she kidding? She had been hiding the blurriness in her vision for quite some time now. Why didn't she want to get it checked and find out what's wrong with her? She can't tell you for the life of her.

On the other hand, Harry had always known, but he thought she would address it sooner or later. He'd noticed she'd totally missed the butter sitting right in front of them at breakfast, and he had to get it for her. She would often take a second to adjust to light early in the morning.

You can't really do anything if you're missing big and obvious things sitting right in front of you, right? But he was wrong, Nylah was stubborn as hell, and she wasn't going to admit herself that she needed help, so it was up to him to figure it out and advocate for her. Had he done this sooner, they wouldn't be in a position like this, right?

---

The white walls of this hospital felt like it was caving in on Nylah. She didn't want to be here, neither did she want to get tested, and she didn't know anything point. This nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach just wouldn't go away. Harry was trying to be as supportive but to be honest, he was scared shitless too, neither of them of any help to each other. So they sat, quietly taking the eerie atmosphere of the hospital, holding each other's hands, hoping that warmth would enough to get through this cold tunnel of uncertainty.

After a whole week of a myriad of tests, they were sitting in front of their eye surgeon, who just gave them the news. They call it retinitis pigmentosa, and there isn't a concrete treatment that's shown to work yet.

That's all she heard before Nylah stormed out of the office.

She couldn't sit and hear another word. When the doctor told her about how her children, children who weren't even born yet, would be carriers or sufferers of the same illness. How could she succumb to this fate?

Harry and she were to still get married. They were going to travel the world. They'd been saving up for it, right? And babies? Oh, her babies with Harry, would that even be possible right now? Would he even want to continue this engagement?

She was sitting on the stairs outside the hospital. Crying into her hands, she didn't know what the hell to do anymore. So she would do what she thought was the best for her and Harry.

Harry came running after her. "My! what's wrong? Please come back? The doctor wasn't even finished giving us options on what we could do about this. Petal, you've got to hear him out. Please. " He looks like he's about to cry too, wouldn't you? If you found out the love of your life wasn't going to be able to see anymore? That she would miss arguably the best years of your lives together? He couldn't break down in front of her, though. So he would be the calm, reassuring voice of reason for her right now. Breaking down is for later when she is resting.

Nylah wouldn't budge, so eventually, they drove back home. She jumped out of the car before he could even be done parking. She hadn't said a word throughout the ride, and he didn't know what was on her mind. So he parked the car and walked in.

He slowly approached their room, only to find her packing all her belongings. He was a little puzzled, "Ny, darling? What are you doing? why are you packing?"

She turns around to look at him. That's when he notices her red-rimmed eyes, pooling with tears. She walks over to the dresser, takes off her ring and places it on the table. It was as if she was saying; This is it, you know?

He finally placed what was going on. "Oh no. No. You're not doing that, this is stupid, you're ending our engagement over this? Absolutely not. Please, baby, you've calm down. There's a long way to go still, and we don't even know all our options yet."

"I am going blind, Harry. I won't be able to see your face when I kiss you anymore. I won't give you children that might not be addled with the same disease as me. Hear yourself when you make this commitment, Harry." and go. I'm to packing her stuff. She was furiously wiping tears away. How were you supposed to keep a straight face when the love of your life is not going to be a part of your life anymore.

"I do, I'm in it for the long haul, aren't I? We'll break our savings and go to all the places you want to go to. We'll make audio vlogs, we'll document everything that we encounter, for you to remember. I'll do anything!"

Harry was panicking now. He's desperately trying to get her attention, to get her to see that he'll bring her the moon if that's what she desires. But this silence was too much for him. He could'n;t keep up with her. She was just throwing things into her bag. Finally, it felt like he snapped back into his reality, and he rushed behind her to keep those items back into her part of the closet. Because he wasn't going to let her go that easily. She'd have to fight him for it.

As he was putting things back, she was putting more stuff into her suitcase, and it was this weird limbo of aggressively shoving things here and there.

"Stop putting things back! I have to leave. I'm not going to put you through this, I'm not waiting around for you to decide when you're done with me, when it gets too tiring, No. I'm not sticking around to witness us and our love going sour. " She's screaming now.

He doesn't bother replying to her. He knows she'll ride out this tantrum.

He's crying too, heaving heavy breaths. He doesn't know if this is enough. If just letting her be angry is enough. He's just quietly putting her clothes back. That's when he hears something shatter against the wall. He frantically looks up to see their dresser lamp broken into million pieces on the floor. She goes for the jug of water next and throws it at the wall with as much strength as possible. The cup goes next.

He's screaming at her to stop, but she can't hear anything over her wailing and things breaking. She grabbed a vase from their windowsill and broke that too, it's mad fury, and she's so angry she can't breathe.

She's snapped out of her reverie when she hears him shout in pain. She looks at him and sees that he's stepped on some broken glass, but that's not what he's shouting about; he's screaming to get her attention to make her see that she's, in fact, hurt herself.

The carpet has got blood all over it, and there's broken glass everywhere. He strides across the room to reach her, only for her knees to buckle and take both of them down, she sinks on the floor with loud sobs, and he can't bring himself to stop crying either.

He rocks her gently, and whispers "We'll be alright", over and over again.

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lucidlrh · 4 years

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loving blindly

summary: luke slowly loses his sight and you help him through it

warnings: none i think??

a/n: hello!! i wrote this for @skinnylukes‘s fan project, DisabledSOS! it’s such an amazing cause that aims to spread awareness about fans with disabilities, chronic illnesses, and health conditions. read more about it here!!

i chose to write about retinitis pigmentosa (RP), which results in loss of vision. i did as much research as i could to try and portray the condition as accurately as possible, but of course, i have never actually experienced it so this might have a few inaccuracies, and for that, i’m very sorry!!

(i also wrote this super late at night so it probably has like a ton of grammar mistakes IM SORRY)

masterlist

It was only supposed to be a routine eye exam.

Luke hadn’t been worried at all when he first walked into the small office, ready to just get the appointment over with, and at first it did seem pretty standard. It was only when the doctor glanced through the test results and became eerily silent did Luke start to worry.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

The doctor ignored his question, asking instead, “Have you been having any difficulty seeing things in the dark recently, Luke?”

“Uhh, I mean a little? I just kinda assumed that was because I’d just been on my phone too much,” Luke murmured. “Why, is anything wrong?”

The doctor was silent for a moment, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He glanced up at Luke again, taking a breath before continuing.

“I’m going to ask that you stay a bit longer today for a few tests, Luke. We’ll know more after that.”

Luke went home that night tired and stressed out from the long day of testing. He collapsed into your arms when you greeted him at the door, and you wrapped your arms around him tightly, hoping to ease his mind a little.

“It’ll be okay, baby. Everything will be okay,” you murmured to him. “Whatever happens tomorrow, I know we can get past it.”

The results came in the next morning. Retinitis pigmentosa is what the doctor called it. It was a rare condition where Luke’s retina would slowly deteriorate until he lost all vision. He would likely be legally blind by the age of 40, if his vision even lasted that long.

Luke was in shock. A part of him had expected it, especially after seeing the doctor’s worried expression at the appointment.

“There has to be something they can do right? A surgery, maybe? Anything,” Luke stuttered into the phone while you rubbed his back comfortingly. “I won’t go blind, I can’t.”

“I’m sorry, Luke. There’s nothing that can be done right now,” the doctor continued to talk about different ways Luke could start preparing to make his vision last as long as possible and make the transition as smooth as it can be, but Luke stopped listening.

He didn’t understand why this was happening to him. Luke considered himself a good person who led a good life and he just couldn’t fathom why the world decided to let him down now.

The early symptoms became clear over the next few months, with Luke quickly becoming almost fully night blind. His peripheral vision was next to go, leaving him disoriented, often knocking into things and falling over.

The next few weeks were rough on both of you. Luke became distant, pushing you away whenever you tried to be there for him. It was obvious that he was in denial about his condition by the way he so adamantly refused your help.

It wasn’t until he learned that he wouldn’t be able to continue driving anymore that the reality of the situation really hit him. He finally understood that his life would change drastically, and he wasn’t ready for it.

You found Luke crying on the bathroom floor that night. Wordlessly, you sat next to him, wrapping your arms around him like you had done thousands of times before.

“Y/N?” Luke mumbled a few moments later.

“Hmm?”

“Why are you still here?”

You pulled back and looked up at him, a little startled, “What do you mean?”

Luke’s eyes were swimming with vulnerability when he reached out and cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Why are you still with me when you know that I won’t be able to take care of you like someone else would?” he sighed.

“Are you kidding?” you breathed out, placing your hands over his own. “I love you, Luke. I’ll always love you, blind or not. No one is better for me than you are.”

Luke hummed at your answer, pulling you back into his chest. He was quiet for a moment before mumbling, “I’m sorry, baby.”

You closed your eyes, “Why?”

“I’ve been such a dick to you the past few months. You were only trying to help me, and I wasn’t being appreciative.”

“Shh, it’s okay, Lu. I understand.”

“Yeah?” Luke smiled into your hair.

“You’re gonna get through this, baby. I’ll be there with you the whole way.”

taglist (message me to be added or removed!)

@lukeisbaby @softforcal @sexgodashton @dimplesluke @valentinelrh @irwinkitten @irwintry @hookedonashton @sublimehood @cakesunflower @hemmoniac @sanrioluke @itjustkindahappenedreally @skinnylukes

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augmented-beauty · 4 years

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Deus Ex OC profile 2.0

I found myself being extremely creative lately, and here we are. Here follows a long, more detailed profile of my dear baby, Alexandra. And yet, it still scratches the surface of her story, as I don’t want to spoil too much.

Art by the amazing @mrs-chief yes, I’m still spamming it because I’m just too in love with this piece, no matter how many months have passed already.

Full name: Alexandra Maribel Montgomery Rivera

Date and place of birth: July 14, 1999, Detroit

Augmentations: eyes (Smart vision with Fine Transmitter Tuning, flash suppressant, retinal HUD), right arm (instant take-down, recoil compensation (full level), optimized musculature, punch through Wall, aim stabilizer, nanoblade, Tesla system, custom-made emergency button to rapidly release her ammo), Info Link.

Moral Alignment: Neutral good. Extremely loyal, Alexandra respects the authorities and she does not consider herself above law, but she believes that protocols and orders sometimes have to be ignored to do what is right. She usually doesn’t kill her enemies or opponents, but she won’t hesitate to pull the trigger to protect loved ones and when there’s no other way out.

Alex is extremely loyal and devoted to her loved ones. Empathetic, extrovert, joyful, supportive, respectful and kind, it’s extremely easy to get on at least decently with her, but it’s still quite difficult to gain her trust. Open-minded and strong principled. Realistic, but she always tries to see the brighter side. She never gets too influenced by others, but she has some role models and people that admires deeply. Sometimes anger takes advantage of her, and she can be aggressive at times. Usually, her disappointment is expressed by sassy remarks.

Hobbies: singing and songwriting, videomaking, dancing

Family and life events

Her mother is Cuban, born in Havana, and moved to the USA to study and work. Her father, Koa, is a half Samoan-American (hapa) SWAT agent, born and raised in Detroit, but always visits Hawaii regularly. Her Hawaiian grandfather, Keoni, moved in Detroit in search of more job opportunities, while her grandmother is a white woman born in Detroit, disowned because of her will to marry a black man. They later moved back to Hawaii after retirement. Alex also has a younger sister, Isabelle Ignacia, former member of a Sarif’s research team. She has an excellent relationship with her family. Her parents, grandparents and sister are extremely supportive.

The two sisters suffer from Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP), a genetic, degenerative disease that slowly drags the patient into blindness. Luckily, both of them were able to access the needed augmentations as this technology started to become more common. Alexandra was the first one to get her augs back in 2018, agreeing to take part in a Sarif Industries initiative. Isabelle gets her own after a couple of years. Both their surgeries are successful, and the two sisters don’t really need to worry about their syndrome anymore. While Isabelle sticks to regular updates meant for a civilian as technology improves, Alex is more daring. In 2027, after debating about it for a while, thanks to her job, she gets some military upgrades.

Following her father’s footsteps, Alex applied for Police Academy after getting her Bachelor degree. That’s when she meets Adam, just days after her training at the Academy starts. Their meeting was almost a lucky coincidence: Alex was meant to have lunch with her father, but Adam was free, too. Koa thought it was the perfect occasion to have the two of them finally getting to know each other. He always had a good consideration of Adam, and Alex has heard of him before, multiple times. On the other hand, Adam has heard a lot about Alexandra, as Koa was always very proud of his daughter and all her achievements.

As her career progresses, Alexandra ends up in a relationship with Michael, who she has been knowing since college. The two of them both enrolled with DPD after their degree and ended up in Academy together as well. After graduating from Academy and after two abundant years of active service, Alexandra takes a step further and gets her training to join the SWAT division, with the support of her father and Adam, who both give her some help and tips when needed. Her career at DPD is brilliant, even though she never got the chance to become a commander herself.

Meanwhile, her sister studies hard and manages to get her dream job at Sarif Industries, and is assigned to Megan Reed’s team. There, Isabelle meets Faridah Malik and Francis Pritchard and introduces them to Alex. They both become some of the closest friends of the two sisters. For Alex and Isabelle, they’re more like siblings in bond.

Her life is relatively calm and peaceful until 2027 comes. The attack at Sarif Industries has her all over the place. Luckily, Isabelle wasn’t working that day, but what happened to Adam hits her and raises her stress levels. For months, Alex keeps worrying about her younger sister’s safety, and for Adam’s mental and physical health. Michael helps her a lot during this time, supporting her in every selfless action of hers. He’s not as close with Adam as Alex is, but still tries to support him, too. Some weight seems to be lifted from her shoulders when Adam is back in the saddle again, but six months after the first attack at SI, the same people responsible for what happened that day try to kidnap Isabelle, too. But once again, they fail, also thanks to Adam’s investigations and his right-on-time rescue. Some days after that, the Incident takes place. She’s off-duty and with Michael when the chaos starts to surround them. Alex didn’t get the new chip and is still sane. Even though they’re both off-duty, they end up inside a residential building, partially on fire, trying their best to aid some people stuck inside. A heavy augmented man, with heavy labour augs, is the current threat. Alexandra comes up with quite the reckless plan, acting as a living bait to give the chance to Michael to get those people safe. In that instant, there was no better option than that, it was only a matter of time. Things don’t really go as expected though. Alex gets badly stunned, and the man grabs her to throw her smaller body into the nearby flames. Michael barely makes it on time to save her, shooting the man, but there’s nothing he can do about her right arm, all he can do is extinguishing the fire. The pain is too much, and Alexandra is unconscious. Next thing she knows as she opens her eyes again, is that she’s in a hospital bed, with no right arm, and without Michael around. While doing everything to save her, he was badly injured and didn’t make it to the hospital, no matter how fast her father got there to pick them up. Her family also needs to let her know what happened in Panchaea, and that Adam is most probably dead.

The aftermath is pure hell. She went through one of the darkest times of her life. Lots of people that she called friends turned their backs to her only because of her second aug, guilt for Michael’s death ate her alive, and the whole process of rehab and the pain after the amputation were destroying her. Knowing that Adam was gone, too, made everything even worse. If it wasn’t for her family and closest friends, her mental health would have been extremely compromised.

The following months are all about recovery, and the support of her loved ones is crucial. Slowly, she gets back on track, regaining her inner fire, and coming back stronger than before. Her original songs and covers become a way for her to channel her emotions and to blow some steam off, even more than in the past, to give a message and raise awareness about what it really means to be augmented, and to, hopefully, bring some hope to augmented people like her. With time, an idea pestering the whole family becomes reality, and Montgomery Foundation is born. Based in Detroit, it’s meant to bring assistance to augmented people in desperate conditions, to raise awareness and to educate about what it means to be augmented, trying to stop the hatred. Alex and Isabelle put a lot of care into using the various social media channels to do this. Isabelle spreads awareness using her biomedical knowledge, while Alexandra insists more on the social, emotional side of the issue. This project also gives her the motivation and the inspiration to make some new content. This is not about music only anymore, Alex takes the chance to bring entertainment, too, as many have suggested her throughout the years. Her personality is perfect for this, and it could be a way to give more visibility to the Foundation and the activism that the whole family is carrying on.

Despite this new reality, Detroit is becoming unbearable. Once she can get back to work, things are not the same anymore. Alex can’t really see the point in being a cop anymore, not with all the violence and hatred that police brings upon augmented people. Most of her colleagues don’t fully trust her anymore, look at her like she was a walking death machine. Some don’t even try to hide their true feelings. The situation becomes more and more frustrating every day. But there’s a spark of hope in late 2028, one year after the incident: out of the blue, Adam is back in Detroit. It’s the key event that brings all her strength back, fully, after a year of struggles. Determined in helping him out, she has her first contact with Interpol’s Task Force 29. Jarreau agrees to have her taking part in their operation in Detroit as some sort of local aid agent, and is very impressed by her work. Before leaving, he suggests Alex to consider applying for Task Force 29, letting her know he wouldn’t mind to have her in Los Angeles.

As much as Detroit is testing her patience, Alexandra doesn’t leave immediately. She’s too concerned about the safety of her family, especially of her sister, and about the condition of the augmented people living in the former Sarif Industries area. Yet, Jarreau’s offer is tempting. It takes a while for her to even just start really considering such an option. Friends and family try to convince her for months, they know how this new job could benefit her. Adam, too, does his best to persuade her, giving her information, answering her questions about TF29; there’s no time zone that can stop him. It takes almost a year for Alex to finally decide to embrace this opportunity. DPD won’t let her go easily, though, no matter if they can only waste her potential, and her superiors manage to let her be a simple agent on trial. To officially become an Interpol agent, she will need to impress her superiors. The inconvenience doesn’t stop Alex, and she still sends her application to Interpol, to those terms. Instead of requesting to be part of the LA team, she applies for Prague’s team.

Alexandra’s intention is to move to Prague, to be by Adam’s side. In fact, after meeting him again almost a year before, she started to realise how her feelings for him went beyond friendship. Said epiphany only made her miss Adam more and more, making her want to run after a whole brand new start. She reaches Prague the day after Ruzicka’s bombing and is immediately thrown into action. Teamed up with Adam, she works on the bombing case and later takes part in London’s operation. Right after Apex Centre’s evens, Miller immediately gets to work to have Alexandra among his agents, and eventually, his efforts are successful. Things seem to be brighter for Alex from now on. She gets to spend more time with Adam, just like old times, and they get closer and closer, as close as never before. Their relationship gets deeper and deeper day by day and after a relatively short time, they end up together, from friends to lovers.

#deus ex #deus ex oc #deus ex human revolution #deus ex blacklight #deus ex mankind divided #alexandra montgomery #alexandra maribel montgomery #long post

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prunerronald9-blog · 4 years

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Non Normal Home Insurance Coverage

Former professional U.S. football gamers with a history of concussions may be more prone to experience low testosterone and erectile dysfunction later in life, a recent research suggests. Researchers examined survey knowledge collected from 3,409 mostly center-aged former Nationwide Soccer League (NFL) gamers from 2015 to 2017. Total, 18.3% of them had low testosterone and 22.7% had erectile dysfunction. “Unfortunately, this study doesn't shed any mild on whether or not there are actions that can be taken after a head injury to minimize risk of sexual health points,” Grashow stated by email. “However, erectile dysfunction and low testosterone are conditions that can be very aware of interventions like medications, as well as different optimistic health activities like train, maintaining a wholesome weight-reduction plan and treating sleep circumstances. Researchers additionally requested participants if a healthcare provider had ever really helpful that they take prescription medication for low testosterone or erectile dysfunction. Former players within the research have been 53 years previous, on common, and had played in the NFL for a median of 6.Eight seasons.

With cancers similar to leukaemia and lymphoma

Masood W., Uppaluri K., Ketogenic Diet. 2018 May, Campbell University. PMID: NBK499830

Hair Loss, Mayo Clinic. Link right here

What can I do at dwelling for hair loss

A localised infection, corresponding to tinea capitis

four fl oz

THE DANGERS OF PROCESSED SUGARS

youtube

The affected person was then diagnosed with persistent retinal toxicity linked to the excessive dose of medicine damaging the outer retina. His tinted vision has not improved more than a yr after his initial analysis, regardless of various remedies. Mount Sinai researchers used state-of-the-art know-how, including adaptive optics (AO) and optimal coherence tomography (OCT), to look at his retina for proof of structural injury on the cellular level, something that had by no means been accomplished before. AO is a sophisticated expertise that permits clinicians to examine microscopic structures of the attention in dwelling patients with extreme detail in actual time. OCT is an advanced imaging system that reveals the cross-sectional details of the retina layer by layer. The high-tech imaging allowed investigators to see microscopic harm to the cones of the retina, the cells that are liable for color imaginative and prescient. The injury was much like that seen in animal fashions of hereditary retinal disease corresponding to retinitis pigmentosa or cone-rod dystrophy.

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One factor is certain: a patient’s mindset is integral to how properly they cope with the sickness, and how badly it impacts them. https://restoreantiaging.co/gainswave/ are sometimes prescribed remedies that deal with pores and skin symptoms. But ideally, this could be combined with some type of talking therapy or mindfulness. In more severe instances, a course of anti-anxiety or antidepressant medicine might also present much-wanted relief from feelings of low temper triggered by the condition. Just a little talked-about facet of psoriasis is how it affects intimate areas. For one patient of mine, the agony of her skin situation solely strikes when she goes to the rest room. Instead of thickened, flaky blotches of pores and skin on her limbs, she has pink, sensitive patches and cracks between her buttocks. Some patients who come to clinic discover their love lives are badly affected by their symptoms. They lack confidence and can actually battle being intimate with their partners. Another relatively unknown drawback is erectile dysfunction. Psoriasis sufferers are more likely to encounter this concern than healthy males. This could have both a psychological or bodily trigger, but both manner, it’s essential to tell your doctor who can refer you to a specialist.

How long till I've the results I paid for? Day 3: “Patients may begin to wash their head adhering to the submit-operative washing instructions, using special lotion and shampoo. Days 5-7: “Within 5-7 days following the operation, the transplanted grafts will develop into stronger, and won't be dislodged by touching. Patients should avoid scratching the transplanted space. They might feel an itching sensation throughout this period. 1-3 months put up-surgery: “Shedding of the transplanted hair, also referred to as Shock Loss, is skilled throughout this stage. This occurs due to the temporary rest section that every one transplanted hair follicles enter after a hair transplant procedure. 3 months post-surgery: “Patients can expect new hair development often within 5 to 6 months following the procedure. By 6 to 10 months: “Patients will start to note probably the most spectacular distinction for the reason that preliminary process. Do transplants work in a different way for various kinds of hair? Do males with thick, curly hair or afro-textured hair have different experiences?

youtube

#Gainswave

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keatongarcia · 5 years

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( xavier serrano + 22 + muse 54 ) isn’t that keaton reyes garcia over there? i heard he joined faction: nomads after they got back to west ham. it’s funny, ‘cause they were only on the service trip because he thought it’d be good for his confidence. hopefully they fit in there – they’re intuitive, but also heedless. oh, i’m sure they’ll be fine.

yo famalam it’s ya girl asia, right back at it again bc self-restraint is fake and doesn’t exist

brief backstory

(tw: drug addiction)

keaton was born twenty-two years ago in west ham, kansas, to josé reyes garcia and christine garcia, on february 26th (making him a pisces!!)

his childhood was relatively normal, growing up in a household as an only child with happily married parents. however, from birth he was diagnosed with a moderate-severe sensorineural bilateral hearing loss, meaning he always wears two hearing aids

he’s always been a keen dancer, having began lessons from essentially as soon as he could walk. his favourite style is street dance, although he’s more than willing to learn other styles of dance. over the years, he’s learned many other dance styles and favours those of quick pace such as the paso doble, tap, and salsa

however, the normality in his life began to change when he reached fifteen, and his vision began to deteriorate. he began to struggle increasingly in the dark and his spacial awareness was gradually getting worse and worse

fast forward six months and keaton was given the diagnosis of usher syndrome, a name used to describe the combination of hearing loss and vision impairment (a condition called retinitis pigmentosa). his eye condition, characterised by night blindness and a loss of peripheral vision, gradually deteriorated over the years, although his hearing level has always remained consistent

his parents made the decision to move to england in the hope of upcoming treatments and clinical trials but there were none, as the syndrome is presently incurable. however, the family remained settled in london and got on with life as best as they could

dealing with the news of his diagnosis was incredibly difficult for keaton; being told he was unable to drive, not knowing whether he’d be able to continue dancing – it was all terrifying and overwhelming for him. his doctors prescribed diazepam to calm his nerves. within a year of his diagnosis, keats was addicted to the pills and less than a year after that, his parents had admitted him to rehab. while his stint with addiction was only a short one, it was enough to shake him up and encourage him to sort himself out.

dating had always been tough for him – at what point do you tell your date that you have an incredibly rare, incurable condition? he tended to avoid it entirely until, at the age of nineteen, his parents and friends encouraged him to go on The Undateables (a british show that follows the stories of single people with conditions or disabilities and tries to help them find love)

he eventually caved and signed up for the show and, although his date on the show didn’t end ideally (the pair still, however, remain friends to this day), it earned him quite the reputation. within days of his episode airing, his twitter and instagram followers had increased by tens of thousands and he was being overwhelmed with messages of love and support

it was then that he was scouted by an agent and ended up appearing in a variety of different things, from tv shows and movies to commercials and music videos. it was a great relief to him that, even with limited vision, a career involving dance wasn’t entirely off the cards.

however, fast-forward a little bit more and keaton, along with his parents, moved back to west ham after being offered an opportunity to teach and interpret sign language, even appearing in a few sign supported stage productions.

personality

in terms of personality, he’s pretty carefree and resilient. he’s been through a lot and is constantly dealing with frustrations in his life

he has what he likes to call ‘good and bad eye days’, and he has no way of helping his bad eye days, or knowing in advance what kind of day it’ll be. it’s because of this that he’s had to develop such a carefree attitude, otherwise he’d spend his life pissed off at the world

he’s super compassionate though, and hates knowing that anyone is upset. he has a strong desire to help people if and when he can, which is why he volunteers at his local aa and na groups, offering support to those who need it. he’ll gladly offer a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on, possibly accompanied by some chocolate and tissues

keats is all about gut-instinct. he could sit and think over something for hours, analysing every detail, or he could make a quick decision based off his intuition before he has chance to change his mind.

he’s also a massive nerd, and enjoys learning stuff just for the sake of it, purely because he can and he enjoys it

any friends of his have to get used to him making jokes about his vision or his deafness. laughing about it is his way of dealing with it and in his opinon, it’s way better than moping about it and feeling sorry for himself.

he has a guide dog called ramsay, who goes absolutely everywhere with him. he also has another dog called hugo, who was his first ever guide dog but has now retired

keaton is terrified of the dark, due to his hearing and vision loss, but is also afraid of snakes, small spaces, and heights

uhh what else

he’s allergic to shellfish, pollen and lactose

his fav colour is orange

connection ideas

tinder matches

best buds

flirtationships

bad influence

roommates/neighbours

enemies

god im so bad at connections

liteRALLY ANYTHING

i still suck at intros but there’s a bio page here and i havent done a connections page yet because i’m a loser but hit me up anyway xoxo

#apogeeintro #this sucks whoops #love him down tho <3

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greesngrass-archive-blog · 6 years

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DOMINIC GREENGRASS is NEUTRAL in the war, even though HIS official job is as A MEMBER OF THE WIZENGAMOT. the TWENTY EIGHT year old PUREBLOOD is known to be DILIGENT and ASTUTE but also PRUDENT and DELIBERATELY IGNORANT. some might label them as THE JUDICIOUS fc: charlie cox

dominic tiberius greengrass is the youngest of three waaaaay too rich children

his mother, brigid, was an herbologist better known for her best selling books. the estate’s gardens and greenhouse are her life’s work and joy, and all three greengrass boys share fond memories of spending time with her in them, learning about it all even when they didn’t care, being forced to nurture pots of plants in hopes to turn them into responsible people. she still has a small army of handpicked herbologists and gardeners working for her, making her greenhouse and gardens a true paradise and place of research, and focuses on that mostly nowadays

roland greengrass, his father, left his position as chief warlock of the wizengamot three years ago, and has been working on a book ever since, yet to be finished. he’s been considering looking for a high position in some wizarding school, maybe ilvermorny, but has not made up his mind yet. he truly instilled in his children a sense of hard work, strict planning and following the law. oh, and he’s got an order of merlin, first class. quite the legacy to live up to.

the elder brother, sebastian, is a diplomat. the middle child, nathaniel, a well traveled herbologist, who owns his own research center. they are all very busy, and the oldest two already well married, with a few children. the three try to keep in touch, reuniting monthly at the main family estate for a weekend or so, and they also send each other letters?? cute

he’s so proud to be a greengrass all the time tbh like yeS I AM slightly better than u i am a greengrass pls

the greengrass family doesn’t have a history of joining extremist groups, but they are well integrated into pureblood high society, and a part of the sacred 28. they’ve always held positions of power and rivers of money, and are especially skilled in the art of arranged marriages, something that has made their ties to the rest of the wizarding society so much stronger. marrying a greengrass or into the greengrasses means a life of family protection, luscious estates and travels, a name of power and a spot in the lovely grey area between blood purists and blood traitor families, appeasing both sides just enough

it came as no surprise for him when, a couple of years ago, they started looking for someone. it’s been a long process, dom usually only involved when they needed a final yes or no, and he said lots of no’s until jacqueline showed up. a quick conversation, a dinner the next day, and the choice felt pretty easy. after all, worked for generations, why wouldn’t it work on him? so he’s now betrothed to jacqueline nott !!!!

so far it’s been A Gift honestly?? he?? has so much in common with her and it’s been so fun and niCE it’s something so calming and certain?? the future doesn’t seem as scary anymore??? help

he was always told to not get in the way of blood purists, but to not shun them away, and he still lives by that. ignores the war away, and never encourages the D.E.s (extremists are never a good thing). the only thing he follows is the law, as closely as possible

he was sorted into slytherin but honestly the hat took a few extra minutes because it was almost a tie between that and hufflepuff.

has retinitis pigmentosa, which pretty much means that he started losing some sight as a child, like the ability to adjust to different lighting or walking around at night, and tunnel vision, and gradually has been losing more and more of it (he was officially diagnosed when he was 12). as of right now, he barely has any left, so he’s legally blind (mostly just notices light, it’s reflections, flames). doesn’t talk about it. ignore ur problems awaaay

he truly is a fan of ignoring everything that’s serious when it comes to him. things are never really dealt with but shh

hogwarts is not the most disability-friendly school, although it’s improving but also, it was the 60s, so as his eyesight diminished the school’s measures weren’t really enough. he BROKE his right leg in 6th year in a moving staircase and the greengrasses immediately SUED the school, forcing it to rush improvement. his disability could never be a stop on his path, the greengrasses always made sure of it.

but also, even if it’s the 60s and wizard society is very separated from muggle technology, there needs to be some stuff available for visually impaired people so i'm just gonna fill in all the gaps canon left - there is a spell that turns any writing into braille, another that turns braille typing into writing. both are very very advanced spells, and don’t always work 100%.

uses muggle things like braille typewriters (they were still super nosy in the 60s-80s so his was charmed to not make a lot of it) and talking calculators. his parents got him a mobility instructor as soon as his diagnostic was made and his lack of vision was enough to justify it, aka someone who taught him how to adapt, how to move without crashing into things, how to properly use a cane. that greengrass money also paid for the best braille tutors possible, which he started learning right after his diagnostic since they knew it would only get worse. a braille tutor followed him to hogwarts during the school months too, coming in for a bit every day to keep helping him with braille and later on just to print over his work, made in braille, so that teachers could read it and mark it. eventually the tutor stopped coming, as he perfected the spell that turned his work into regular writing.

doesn’t care for the war. he greengrass especially are a family of rich well connected people who don’t engage in the most extreme views of the rest, so he was never raised with a specific hatred

ppl at school couldn’t make him develop that view either. he nodded along in order to not start shit and tried to dissuade them from the more intense stuff

never starts shit. so self aware of his words and what they’ll do

the Wise and Responsible friend

doesn’t let loose enough

dom’s great at charms?? his best subject tbh.

will try to fix everything all the time???? always has. whenever a problem arises, he’s there, trying to make sure you don’t even need to think about it

he’s?? kind. he’s a kind person. he was always The Softer Friend, the one who gave silent hugs when all others did was act stoic, the one who never got any of the jokes and laughed for minutes after they were explained to him, the slightly socially awkward kind friend who had everyone’s backs but also gave them shit about their snobbier attitudes and mocked their speech patterns and was the jokingly asshole-ish slytherin friend you’d expect

has been rising the ranks inside of the ministry, usually in the offices nearer to the minister. just got a job at the wizengamot, being one of the youngest there !!

likes his job? quite a bit? he liked the administrative stuff before, and then the powerful political roles, but he finds the law much more interesting, and is very open about much needed reforms in the british magical judiciary system. he’s so far from the revolutionary type, he just wants,,,, soft changes. pls fix this broken system.

he’s also good at it?? homeboi gives Good Speeches when he needs to convince his fellow wizengamot ppl, and he always pays so much attention and notices tiny details and logic flaws, plotholes - u can’t escape dominic justice.

people suspect he only has it because of his family’s influence, which kinda fucks him up mentally because he questions himself and his work and position in the world a lot.

he loves music so much?? any type of music. muggle, wizard, british, international, even when he can’t understand the words. can often be seen dancing. it’s like awkward dad dancing but?? endearing. if he’s in a good mood, there’s loud music playing in his house and he’s grooving around

dom definitely enjoys the lavish lifestyle his family money and his own now can provide him. wears the best clothes, lives in an expensive but small house, enjoys his vacations in Style™, like my man has that greengrass trademark money and knows how to spend it

loves buying people gifts??? takes a long time picking them too

he’s the kind of person that would take in his friends in danger into his house and hide them, but have a serious lecture ready for them the next day. probably tell them they need to find somewhere else to stay since they’re there bc shady stuff. BUT HE’LL TAKE THEM IN

he’s alecto and amycus’s cousin?? how fun?? also somewhat related to the blacks and lestranges bc pureblood families?? all related lbr

parallels: randall pearson (this is us), george o'malley (grey’s anatomy), leo fitz (agents of shield), chloe decker (lucifer), simon lewis (shadowhunters), ravi chakrabarti (izombie)

#this got lONG #maraudrshq:intro

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memoriesoftanalorr · 2 months

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I forget that February is Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP) awareness month. This is rare eyesight issues and I have it too.

#retinitis pigmentosa #my thoughts

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iamsashagay · 6 years

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Retinitis Pigmentosa Month 2018

So I’ve been seeing a bunch of posts on social media again to remind me that it’s retinitis pigmentosa awareness month (say that 10x fast) again, so I figured I’d indulge in one of my favorite hobbies - talking about myself. I already wrote fairly extensively about my RP journey last year, so check that out if you’re looking for even more #sashagay content.

For a reference point before we get in too deep, the diagram above is what the average ‘healthy’ eye’s field of vision is - I’ve got about 20-25 degrees in each eye, and lost about a third of my acuity in my right eye last year.

I figured this year I’d sit down and write about what retinitis pigmentosa actually is for y’all. Retinitis Pigmentosa is a genetic disorder (which spontaneously appears in 50% of cases as a fun “hey y’all, plan to re-evaluate your whole life!” gift) that essentially kills off the cells in an individual’s retinas. The retina is the tissue that basically envelopes the back of your eyeball and is responsible for your ability to see, adjust to, and perceive light.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is the slow wearing down of said tissue as your night vision goes from whatever it’s supposed to be (honestly, what the fuck do stars actually look like in the sky? I’ve only ever really been able to see the moon and maybe a star here or there, fuck even trying to make out a constellation???) to...basically a gray blur with burning orbs of light that vaguely correlate to where things are/should be.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is the gradual development of tunnel vision, where your peripheral vision gets fuzzy and harder to get a grip on until one day you realize that there’s just...nothing there. It’s not being able to tell if that shape in your peripheral vision is the fur trim on your winter coat or someone who’s about to cut in front of you on your way down the stairs to the subway.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is focusing intensely when meeting anyone new, darting your eyes down and back up again like you’re the world’s shiftiest person, trying to catch when said person inevitably reaches out their hand for you to shake. Retinitis Pigmentosa is hoping that someone else is there who knows your backstory to nudge you and let you know that your friend’s new man has been holding out his hand for thirty seconds while you ignore it; hoping they’ll smooth over the awkwardness by filling in the blanks on your behalf.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is like reading a book and suddenly realizing you have no idea how the killer got in the bedroom because you’ve spaced out...but with your vision, all the time. It’s scanning the aisles at the grocery store, looking for that one brand of granola bars you know is on sale, but missing them completely because your eyes don’t focus on the details, just the bigger picture overall, because until you see exactly what you’re looking for, your eyes are just trying to see...anything.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is being in a constant state of anxiety in the front seat of a car because even though Joey’s never had an accident and your father drives like GreyPower is tailing him for a sponsorship opportunity, you just know there’s a car coming out of nowhere and if you can’t respond to it how could they possibly? It’s not being able to rationalize that their vision gives them the reaction time to see what’s coming, and instead being in a constant state of near-flinching and - holy crap why is that Honda so close to us all of the sudden?

Retinitis Pigmentosa is reading all about how cigarettes can negatively affect bloodflow to the eyes and potentially accelerate your condition’s progress so you make the decision to quit smoking, but for real this time, on your 24th birthday so you might be able to see on your 35th. It’s having all the fallout from nicotine withdrawal but with an added garnish of ‘why hasn’t my vision come back this is fucking stupid this is pointless I might as well have a fucking cigarette what difference does it make” and having to remind yourself that nothing will bring back your ‘normal’ vision and that all you’re trying to do is hold off the inevitable a little longer so you can feel somewhat whole that bit longer.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is getting glasses to correct the visual acuity you suddenly lost after always having near-perfect central vision and being super excited to be able to see clearly again. It’s realizing that because the glasses magnify your field of vision, they actually shrink your field of vision considerably to the point that when you’re moving around with them on, you find yourself walking into doorways and even more clumsy than general and feeling defeated with the whole thing, although they do look damn cute and make reading a lot easier.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is trying to explain that you don’t feel “whole” and struggling to find the words to explain to a friend who’s offended that you would consider disabled people less than whole beings. It’s trying to find the right words to express that even though you were born with hearing loss, you never felt it made you less whole because it wasn’t ever something you had - you never had to adapt because it was a part of who you were from a young age. Trying to explain that you feel like something is being stolen from you, that you are a home whose power lines are being pulled down in a windstorm and you’re still going to be a home but not the way the architects envisioned it to be and you would really like to have some fucking lights on in the kitchen because who buys a house where the light switches are just decorative?

Retinitis Pigmentosa is going for your annual eye exam and joking your way through it so you don’t have to deal with the pity from the eye doctor and just playing it cool as though you don’t want to just hear them tell you there’s been a mistake and you really just need a lil laser surgery and you’ll be all good to go, go back out there and start the grooming business you wanted to a few years ago, go get your license and live out that teenage movie schtick where they rent a mustang and drive off into the sunset.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is the assistant at the eye doctor’s asking how long ago they put in the eye dilation drops because your pupils are huge. It’s telling her that actually they haven’t put drops in yet and that’s just how your eyes are...and her covering by telling you how pretty your eyes are, and the doctor jokingly telling you how she wishes all her patients were as cooperative as you.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is when you have to smile and try to reassure people that no you aren’t high and you’re sober and no you haven’t touched drugs in nearly seven years but your pupils are just...like that because you don’t really want to get into the nuances of how your eyes don’t adjust to light well so they just stay at perma-dilation most of the time.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is doing the field of vision test and having the technician inquire multiple times if you’re positive you know how the test works because you’re supposed to press the button when you see the flashing light and you’re five minutes in and you haven’t pressed the button yet because you haven't seen a light yet and now you’re tearing up a little which makes it worse because you need your eyes clear so you can focus on those lights in the window so Nancy will shut up and stop acting like you’re an imbecile and suddenly you’re seven years old again and doing all those fucking hearing tests that don’t make a damn difference and that stupid woman keeps saying stupid sentences and you can’t tell if she’s saying ‘ice cream’ or ‘day dream’ only now you can’t tell if there’s a real light in the window or if you’re just hallucinating things.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is finding out that something like 85% of people who are legally blind are unemployed and trying not to panic because really you’ve never been an overachiever, that was always Aeriel’s gig, and now you have to try and be part of the 15% who still have jobs when they don’t have more than 20 degrees of vision despite a lack of ambition. It’s stepping away from something you really thought you might have made a career in because for some reason the idea of blades and a moving target you can’t see all of didn’t seem like something that you should be building a career on when it was only going to get worse.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is being super excited for the snow every year because it makes the contrast at night so high that it’s easier to find your way around when the sun sets until you remember that the sun’s reflection in the daylight burns your eyes and obliterates that little ridge in the snow between the sidewalk and the curb so you almost K.O yourself trying to cross the street. It’s remembering that you need to plan five minutes into your schedule to just stand and let your eyes adjust from the brightness of the snow to the pitch black of the indoors because the lights are never close to bright enough and you might as well be standing there with a blindfold on while everyone else rushes around you, jostling you and now you don’t even know which way you’re facing because it’s all blurs and light flashes and visual snow.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is trying to decide between an aggressive eyeshadow look you’ve been thinking about trying or whether you’ll need to use your cane, because you can feel the stares burning into your skull when you try to do both because if you can see enough to blend out your eyeshadow and perfect a wing, how can you need a cane to get around, because obviously everyone with a cane is 100% blind and apparently faking blind is a thing people might do for some reason?

Retinitis Pigmentosa is a constant bubbling of frustration just under the surface that you can’t let burst through to the surface because you know it’s nobody's fault they talk to you the way they would anybody else. It’s knowing that and still wanting to put a fist through the wall when the seventh person today tells you “it’s right there” as though you have any inkling of where “there” is, as though you can see their fucking finger pointing to the left when your field of vision is clearly (to you) looking left. It’s snapping that “that doesn’t help!!” at Joey and then feeling bad because he’s just trying to help and he was pointing, too, and he didn’t know because nobody knows what exactly you can and can’t see.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is getting a package from the Canadian National Institute for the Blind in the mail the same day you graduate university as if it’s some sign from the universe letting you know that this is the real world, and welcome to it. It’s figuring out how to build a future where you don’t know what you’ll be able to see and for how long and who hires someone who’s going blind so you just kind of skirt around it because you’re just clumsy and maybe you’re just tired or distracted so that’s why you’re always bumping into this and that and people and tripping over things you know are right there but you’re focused on making sure you don’t bump into someone else so you forget it’s right there and now you’re hoping nobody’s noticed that you look drunk at 9:30 in the morning.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is your parents breaking their cardinal rule that we only use the backdoor to our house and letting you use the front door because the back light never comes on and they know you can’t see your key going in the lock without it. It’s your father hearing you coming first thing in the morning and standing to the side because he knows you won’t see him if he moves and that you’re really (really) not a morning person.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is your sister checking to make sure you’re using your cane and questioning when you don’t because she knows you really should be and that you shouldn’t be making excuses because it’s for your own good and guiding you in crowded spaces without you having to ask.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is your boyfriend forcing you to do things for yourself because you can’t be reliant on everyone else, and I guess your eyes are like a muscle and you need to use what you’ve got and appreciate what you do have. It’s having him stand still in the grocery store with the cart until you lock eyes with him instead him babying you because he’s got eyes on you and he knows you’ll find him and he’s there even if you can’t tell and he’ll step in if you get in over your head. It’s having him hold you tight when you don’t know what the fuck to do any more and telling you that it will be okay and you’ll both figure it out.

Retinitis Pigmentosa is your mother nagging you about your appointments because she wants to be there for you just like she always is because she’s the fucking best. It’s fighting with her about how she can’t come because she’ll get emotional like she does every time we talk about my vision because she loves me so much and never wants anything bad to happen to me and here I am telling her the doctors don’t know if I’ll make it to 30 before I become legally blind. It’s knowing that I’ve always got people in my corner, that I’ve got a light on for me, even if I can’t see it. It’s knowing that the house I mentioned before may not have power to the light switches, but I’ll find a drawer of candles. I’ll adapt. I’ll keep moving.

So now I’ve got all this shit out of my system...until the next time someone tells me it’s “right there” and then the gloves are coming off.

#retinitis pigmentosa #retinitis pigmentosa awareness month #CNIB #vision loss #Blindness

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