#so now i’ve been through menopause twice and come out of it twice before i’m 30 and my body is like

[liesyousoldme]

hey remember how i was like, depressed as fuck yesterday lol i started my period today

#my hormones are SO out of whack #chemo puts me in early menopause so my period stops but bc i’m so young when i stop chemo it comes back #but super irregular for the first few months #so now i’ve been through menopause twice and come out of it twice before i’m 30 and my body is like #this is a nightmare why are we doing this let’s just give you a period every two weeks for the hell of it! #no wait. let’s skip a month! #now twelve days in a row! #and my pmdd is like oh boy we really having some feelings about this!!!!! #Anyway. one of the fun cancer tidbits they don’t warn you about #cancer post

[stanknotstark]

Easy Aim (Is Only Exciting Once or Twice) Pt. 5 (Loki x Reader)

Loki’s turn to be a woman in every sense. Guys normally react pretty badly to our level of cramping but I don’t make Loki react too badly because he’s a warrior and probably has felt worse pain. If anything it’s more uncomfortable for him but not enough to warrant much reaction! 

Finally. 

It’s Loki’s turn to suffer. 

You hadn’t come up with a way to get back at the god but karma was a bitch. 

Loki walked into the kitchen and because of his obvious mood the team became quiet. You’re pretty sure the temperature dropped like five degrees too. 

“Who pushed you out the wrong side of bed, seeing as you haven’t had your cereal yet?” Tony asked. 

You snorted into your bite of eggs. 

Loki scathingly looked at you and Tony.

“I will piss on your mother’s grave, Stark.” Loki bites at the man. 

“Loki!” You yelled at the man. Going for Tony’s mother was off limits. Kind of like how the team didn’t ask questions about Loki’s true parentage. 

Tony waved you off with a smile. 

“Oh, you didn’t get pushed out of bed. You woke up with a big red spot on the sheets, didn’t you?” Tony says with a light voice. 

Realization dawns on you. Loki drops the bagel he had picked up and looks to you with squinted eyes. 

Loki had obviously never dealt with this when he shapeshifted. 

You quickly stand, gather Loki’s breakfast and push him out of the kitchen, with little resistance, and towards the direction of your room. Ignoring the Avengers questions and concerns. You were so worried you left your own breakfast.

When you both reach your floor. You make him set his breakfast down in the living room, then push Loki to your bathroom and have him sit on the toilet. 

It’s too silent so you start talking to fill it.

“Usually when I’m about to start I get extremely horny the week before. Then when the actual day hits I’m cramping like crazy, mostly in my lower back.” You explain as you pull out a bunch of pads from under your sink. 

Loki looks at you with something akin to fear but it’s not quite fear, when you glance at him.

“That explains the pain...” Loki whispers with realization.

“The second day is the heaviest so you’ll need to check your pad more so than usual and keep a bottle of Midol nearby because the cramping is terrible. Wait, do Earth medicines even work on you?” You ask the god, freezing your looking to look at him but continue when he shrugs at you. 

“The second day you’re also going to deal with mood swings, like, bad so maybe stay away from people?” You tell Loki as you realize you didn’t give him night pads so you search under your sink again.

“The third day it lightens up and usually my hormones balance out. The fourth day you’ll still need to wear a pad, it’ll only be spotting but it’ll spot enough to bleed through your clothes. If you feel like randomly crying at the smallest things, or even something as random as someone sneezing that is normal.” You explain to Loki. 

“Wait, I have read about periods, to an extent, but why am I having one exactly?” Loki asks.

You leave the room to find a plastic bag for all the stuff you’re giving Loki, when you come back you explain to Loki who sits there patiently. “Your uterus is shedding it’s walls because you’re not pregnant.” 

Loki squints at you. 

“How many times does this occur in your lifetime?” 

“Once a month till you hit menopause.” You tell him flippantly. 

You smile as Loki looks bewildered. 

“When do you experience menopause and when do periods generally begin?” 

“Usually around fifty and they start around twelve but can start as early as eight years old.” You shrug down at him. 

Loki closes his eyes, rubs a hand over his face with a sigh. When his hand drops he shakes his head. “And males have the gall to call presenting females weak.” 

You actually laugh at that causing Loki to softly smile up at you. 

“I uh, suggest buying some panties that you don’t care about, comfortable too, because you’re going to get blood on them whether you like it or not. I would offer you my panties but that is...gross, for some reason, even if you are in my body.” You babble out to Loki who nods at you as he stands. 

You throw the pads he holds into the plastic bag you hold, throw the nightly pads in, throw in a new bottle of Midol then hand it to him. 

“Eat with me, I’ll answer all your questions after you put a pad on of course.” You tell Loki, leaving the bathroom. You’re pretty sure he can figure out the pad. 

You sit waiting in the living room on the big couch. 

Loki comes out of your room not long after and sits next to you, pulling his plate from the coffee table and getting comfy. 

You’re shocked but Loki decided to sit pushed up against you. You wrap an arm around his shoulders which causes him make a happy noise while he chews and leans into your arm. 

“I guess this explains last night.” You say randomly thinking about the way Loki reacted to you yesterday. 

Loki chews through his honey bagel and nods. 

“It also explains why I’ve been getting wet for the past few days.” He admits without thought. 

You look down at him with a raised brow. “Oh?”

“Yes. There was a time where Steve was lifting something heavy and seeing his muscles bulge made me wet.” Loki explains, eating away, not looking at you but speaking as if he has no care about what he’s sharing. Another milestone you figure.

“There was a moment where you were laughing at something Tony said and that made me wet, I could not fathom why.” 

You laugh a little shocked Loki is sharing this with you. 

“Also, when you were hard that made me wet.” Loki finishes starting to pick at some grapes you had grabbed for him. 

“You’ll tell me you got wet but refuse to tell me you have feelings?” You ask teasingly.

Loki glares at you. 

You smile. 

Loki goes back to his food and you settle further into the couch causing Loki to further settle into your arm. 

“I thought periods last for seven days, did I read false information? Why do yours only last four?” Loki asks after he’s chewed through some of his food.

You hum. “Well everyone is different. Some people last three days, some last the usual seven, some people don’t have them monthly, some do.” You explain. “However if they don’t have them monthly that’s because of a disorder or because they’re young and haven’t balanced out yet.” You thoughtlessly explain better.

Loki is quiet for a bit but then asks. “And you did not know this period was coming?” 

You laugh lightly as your hand around Loki’s shoulders plays with your hair. It’s soft and silky. “Well, I don’t take birth control, I had a bad reaction to the one’s they gave me so I can’t really predict when they’re going to hit me. I can generalize between a few weeks but that’s it.” 

Loki hums, licking honey off his fingers. It’s just as cute as it sounds.

It’s only four hours later when Loki starts. 

You had both moved back into the general public of the tower. You had needed to eat more since you didn’t finish your breakfast then settled in the common area.

You were sitting on the couch with Natasha wrapped in your arms and Clint trying to burrow into your side when Loki made an exclamation crossed with a groan, an arm wrapping along his stomach from across the room where he was reading. 

You perk up and look at him as he looks at you with wide eyes. 

Natasha knowing what’s going on says, “It’s normal if you feel like you’re pissing yourself, you’re fine.” 

Loki relaxes and nods. 

“That’s nasty, Nat.” Clint huffs. 

“It is a natural event for a woman’s body, something they cannot control and you dare call it nasty?” Loki hisses at Clint. 

“There’s blood man!” 

“You see more blood on missions, is there a difference?” Loki points out.

You’re smiling with Natasha, looking between Loki and Clint like it’s a tennis match. 

“Well, it comes out of their vagina.” Clint weakly argues back.

“I have no doubt you’ve put your mouth on a vagina and that failed to gross you out, your arguments are irrelevant.” Loki says going back to his book.

Clint lets a pitiful noise out of his mouth and looks to you and Nat. 

“Don’t look at us, we’re on his side.” Nat says with a shrug, settling back into you. You laugh as Clint rolls his eyes. 

You watch Loki out of the corner of your eye as you converse with Nat and Clint. Loki has an uncomfortable look on his face and his arm is still wrapped around his stomach. 

You tell Nat you need to get up and she groans but allows you to. Then, she climbs onto Clint. 

Out of everyone in the tower you did not expect Natasha to be the most affectionate. 

You grab Loki’s attention and get him to follow you back to your floor, again. When you have him laying on your bed you search in your bathroom for what you seek. 

Coming out of the bathroom a few minutes later you show Loki what you have by holding it up in both hands with a satisfied smile. It’s old fashioned, you probably should just buy a heating pad, but this was given to you by your mother and you can’t let go of it because of sentiment.

“What is that?” Loki asks with confusion etching his face, propped up on his elbow. He stares at the orange, rubber bag you hold. It’s the size of a decorative pillow.

“A water bottle.”

“Are you expecting me to drink it?” He asks slowly.

“No.” You laugh and make your way over to him. 

When you’ve climbed into the bed and cuddled up to Loki you place the warm bottle on his lower stomach and Loki actually groans. 

“I understand the intended use now.” He says in a grateful voice as the heat of the bottle penetrates his aching stomach. 

You smile at him but turn your attention to putting on a movie so Loki may rest here for awhile. 

See, thing is, it doesn’t stop. The cuddling, that is.

The next day Loki comes to you and asks if he may use your water bottle. When you tell him yes and go to give it to him he holds it, looking at it like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Would you mind.....holding me as I use this?” Loki says in a soft voice, as if afraid he’s going to be rejected.

You can see tears welling up in his eyes when he looks up at you, which you blame on the period. You smile at Loki and nod. 

“Of course.” 

As you lay there with Loki wrapped in your arms, a movie playing in the background, he says, “While I am trying to keep an open mind about this whole situation, the blood clots are disgusting.” 

You laugh, causing Loki to smile up at you. 

“Have you bled through yet?” You ask him after awhile, curious. 

Loki scoffs. “Yes. I was wearing a nice pair of pants at the time. Natasha promised to get the blood out though.” He says with a frown. 

“If anyone here knows how to get blood out of clothes, Natasha would be the expert.” You chuckle out. 

“I must apologize to her. I was a bit snappy at the time because of the frustration of ruining a perfectly good pair of pants. She was close and received the brunt of my frustration.” Loki says, his fingers trailing down the side of your chest as he spoke, his eyes trained on the movie though.

Loki must not be ticklish, you absently think as his fingers drag over your sides and you don’t react. 

It happens again the next day. The day after that too, you both cuddle with the bottle and watch movies. 

When the period ends Loki still comes to your room and cuddles with you. It’s a routine now. Every evening, if there is nothing going on, Loki comes and you both relax into each other and watch movies and tv shows, casually talking or teasing the people in the movies. You refrain from teasing Loki personally until after the period has passed because you’d feel bad if you made him cry.

It’s nice, to say the least. 

What you don’t expect is Loki almost kissing you one day. 

It was a normal day, you were cuddling and watching Die Hard, teasing the actor when things were way exaggerated. You had been rambling on about how some of the action scenes could have ended had Bruce’s character did something else. You had noticed Loki looking at you with a twinkle in his eye but said nothing about it. You really looked down at him when he grabbed your chin and angled it just enough to where he could reach your lips. 

Loki pushes and crawls up, you laying beneath him, frozen. Your eyes roam his face, it’s a little weird looking at your face but you’re too invested in the moment, to invested in the switching bodies thing. His lips come to hover over yours, close enough you could close the distance in a blink but you stay rooted to the bed. You both breath each other in, eyes memorizing everything about this moment. 

Then the moment passes and Loki pulls from you. You let out a deep breath and blink. 

Surprisingly, Loki did not run, instead he cuddled back into you and continued conversation as if nothing had happened. You replied back casually, if not a little shaky from the anticipation you had just experienced. 

Tag list: @a-laufeyson​ 

#loki x reader #easy aim #easy aim pt.5 #loki gif #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #reader insert #my writing #i read over this like 8 times or more because i wanted to put more situations in it where we experience loki and the period #but i couldnt find a way to add them in without disrupting the flow of the sotry #story* #idk imma let this sit in my drafts for a bit and see if i come up with a way to put a new part in it #we'll see #body switching au #i couldnt come up with anything more to add sorry like i just dont find periods that eventful cuz i only experience mood swings and cramps #other than that everything is calm #and i dont want to write something wrong if i did make it to where he gets sick and stuff cuz i dont have anyone i can talk to about this #all my friends are male 😅 #and i dont want to message people on here and be like hey what kind of periods do you have?! XDDDD

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Come Hell or Helwater - Part Eighteen

Claire comes back to the past with Brianna and arrives at Helwater looking for Jamie—but must confront the Dunsanys first.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen

******************************************

The messenger escorted Claire to Lord Ellesmere’s estate. Though she told herself it didn’t matter because she was menopausal, not pregnant, Claire insisted they ride at a reasonable pace – Lady Geneva was going to be with child for a long while yet, so they needn’t risk their own lives by riding recklessly. The messenger seemed more than fine with taking his time, having ridden back and forth twice now in the span of less than three days. 

Their arrival at the estate showed that, indeed, there was no need for haste on their part. The servants at the door hadn’t even been warned to expect them, causing several minutes of confusion upon their appearance. It wasn’t until Lord Dunsany heard the commotion and came to see what was the matter that Claire was ushered inside and herded toward Lady Geneva’s rooms upstairs. 

“May I be shown to my room first?” Claire asked, wiping at her sleeves to show the dust from the road still clinging to her. 

“Of course,” the excited grandfather-to-be said with a shake of the head. “You’re right. You need a few minutes to rest and make yourself presentable. I’ll let my wife and daughters know you’ve arrived. I’m sure Geneva will see to it that you’re provided anything you need – supper, perhaps, when you’ve finished with her.”

“Yes, just some tea and bread should be fine. Traveling like that leaves me more tired than hungry,” she told him with a polite smile. Truth be told, the riding had left her a bit nauseated but that might be nerves and the deep yearning for hopeful signs to counter the practical voice in her head. 

Lord Dunsany nodded and approached a servant who led Claire up to a guest room – not one for important guests or personal friends, but not a room that might be relegated to mere servants either. Claire was just glad to have the quiet and privacy of a shut door while she removed her dusty outer  layer of clothing and lay down for a few minutes, flat on her back and breathing deeply. She felt her nerves settle, her muscles relax, and her head clear.

At last, she sat up and moved to the small table where a basin and pitcher sat waiting. The water sloshed into the basin and Claire resisted the urge to plunge her face into it. Instead, she leaned into years of habit and training. 

She started by splashing water on her face and patting it dry. The raw feeling from riding in the sun with the fine grit of the road’s dust clinging to her sweat gradually faded, the water soothing and calming. She pulled the pins from her hair, then, and used her fingers to comb through it as best she could – she’d forgotten to grab her brush – taking time to massage her scalp in the process. It would have been easier with a mirror, but she had mastered the art of putting her hair up without one years before (was there a woman alive who hadn’t?), even if she knew it wouldn’t be perfect. She just needed it out of her face. Lastly, she washed her hands, moving her sleeves out of the way to get as close to her elbows as possible. There wasn’t soap to be seen but then, she wasn’t about to perform surgery – it was the routine of it that she truly needed. 

Once again she felt the self-command of a physician ready to examine a patient. 

A waiting servant led Claire to the private sitting room adjoining Geneva’s bedroom. The entire Dunsany family was there though Lord Ellesmere appeared to be absent. Upon Claire’s arrival, Lord Dunsany excused himself as well leaving the ladies alone. 

“Mother, why don’t you and Isobel head to your rooms to rest before dinner,” Geneva said gently. “I’m sure Mrs. Mackenzie will be through with me in plenty of time.”

“Of course, darling. I’ll verify everything with your staff as well. No need for you to strain yourself unduly.” 

Claire caught the sisters exchanging an amused smile behind their mother’s back as Geneva followed them to the door to secure it behind them. 

“It will be easier to examine you properly in the bedroom,” Claire advised. “You’ll need to undress a little and lie on your back so you’ll be more comfortable on the bed.”

“I ought to change for dinner anyhow,” Geneva agreed, her air cool and authoritative even as she readily complied. 

It was only when Geneva’s hand dropped to her belly that Claire could make out the subtle strain at the front of the young woman’s dress. Geneva dismissed her maid as well, telling her that Claire would assist her as far as undressing was necessary. 

“Go make sure the lace on the sleeve of my blue dress is mended. I gave it you yesterday and it ought to be done before Lord and Lady Dunsany depart at week’s end,” Geneva told the meek girl, a hint of scolding in her voice. 

Once they were alone, Geneva stood with her arms lifted at her sides so Claire could untie and remove whatever she would need in order to perform her examination. While Claire could have done without the attitude from Geneva, the proximity did make her more comfortable raising certain delicate issues.

“You found a way to convince your husband the child is his,” she stated, waiting to see whether Geneva would confirm, let alone elaborate.

“In the end it wasn’t necessary. The maids eventually noticed my condition and began gossiping about it themselves. I told Isobel and she thought it would be best to tell our parents in person. She assumed my husband already knew but it was more effective to tell him with them present,” Geneva explained, relishing her newfound sense of security. “He couldn’t exactly make a scene in front of them. Though, he did get himself rather riled up by the time he came to see me in the evening. If he were a younger man I might have worried he’d grow violent but even in my condition I could easily elude him. Then it was just a matter of letting him wear himself out. When he had said his piece, I reminded him that any denunciation of me would require he acknowledge how he could be sure he wasn’t the father – that he would have to admit to being incapable of fathering a child. I told him that we had both been deceived in our expectations upon entering the marriage – he that I would have been untouched, and I that he would be able to fulfill the obligations of a husband in the marriage bed. I told him he could make a fuss about it or accept that he would at last have an heir. I told him that, what’s more, if he insisted on making a fuss, it wouldn’t be difficult for me to explain away his insulting confusion as a symptom of his age – the servants are constantly gossiping about issues with his memory.”

“Lie down please,” Claire instructed, having helped Geneva out of her layers till she stood in just her shift. 

The growing swell of her belly was more easily visible without her stays. She pressed a hand to it, distracted for a moment from reciting her triumph over her husband.

“Feeling the baby move?” Claire asked. 

Geneva nodded, a smile of quiet amazement on her face. “I always feel it more when those are removed.” 

“They don’t just hinder your ability to move,” Claire pointed out. “They limit the baby’s movements as well. You’ll need to wear them looser for your comfort and the baby’s. Now tell me, how have you been feeling?”

“I’ve not been ill for a while if that’s what you’re asking,” Geneva said as she finally lay down on the bed. “Mostly I’ve been tired. Having Isobel around has helped… I’ve told her everything. It’s been better since then, and since others have learned of the baby.”

“It helps when you don’t have to keep things to yourself,” Claire agreed. “When you have someone you can talk to and don’t have to hide.” She gently felt Geneva’s abdomen then looked around for a piece of paper and rolled it into a cone as best she could to listen for a heartbeat. 

“Is everything well?”

“We already know exactly how far along you are,” Claire reminded the nervous young mother quietly. “And everything appears to be on schedule. You’re going to grow increasingly uncomfortable in the coming weeks. You should be sure to rest regularly. You’ve likely guessed but no more riding or activity that’s too strenuous. However, you should try to go for walks and get a little exercise. I’ll write up some suggestions for your diet to keep both you and baby healthy.”

“And you’ll come when it’s time…” Geneva’s statement fell just short of sounding like the command she appeared to be aiming for. She couldn’t hide the anxiety in her eyes as she met Claire’s eye. 

Pity and the impulse to mother overtook Claire. She nodded. “I think your mother and sister should come to stay with you a fortnight before you’re due and I should be able to come the week itself in case you should go into labor early. It’s your first, though, so barring any complications, you may find your little one reluctant to leave.” Claire moved to the desk to write out her recommendations and calculate an approximate due date for Geneva. 

“Thank you,” Geneva said quietly as she raised herself from the bed and fiddled with the sleeves of her silk shift. “You may stay the week, if you like. My parents and Isobel leave Friday to return home. There is enough room in their carriage for a fourth. It would be more comfortable than riding so far.”

“Thank you, but I will leave sometime tomorrow. I don’t wish to be away from my husband and daughter for so long,” Claire replied. 

“Of course. You can send the maid in on your way out. Tell her I’m ready to dress for dinner.”

#;mod lenny #come hell or helwater au #featuring: geneva #featuring: the dunsanys

[heresince93]

Gillian Anderson Sunday Times Interview Transcript

There is a moment in the second series of Netflix’s Sex Education when Gillian Anderson’s character, Jean, sighs a deep resigned sigh as she is lying in bed one morning and spots the messy pile of small change her latest lover, Jakob, has left on her bedside table.

It’s my favourite moment of this uplifting show about the tangled love lives of British secondary school teens that manages to appeal to both parents and adolescents alike. Anderson plays the outrageously inappropriate sex therapist Jean Milburn, a stylish, confident single mother.

The sight of those coins will resonate with any woman of Anderson’s age and stage of life (she is 51), whatever kind of relationship they are in.These pennies, a symbol of how untidy life gets and the constant imposing presence of someone else even when they aren’t in the room, represent for Jean the gradual realisation that the excitement of a new love soon becomes tempered by the boring bits.

For those of us who have been married a while, the coins are perhaps the equivalent of the dull domesticity of picking up the shirt always dropped on the floor or the wet towels you always end up refolding after your teens have left them near but not on the bathroom radiator. Anderson and I chat about this a lot when we meet to talk about the second series of Sex Education, given that we are both working mothers in our early fifties.

The actress, who is most recognised for her role as Scully in The X-Files, is twice divorced and has three children, Piper, 25, Oscar, 13, Felix, 11, all of whom live with her in London. Her partner of three years is the playwright, screenwriter and creator of The Crown, Peter Morgan, himself a father of five.

In person Anderson is chatty and witty, aloof and friendly at the same time, a peculiarly feline trait that I often encounter in driven, confident women who have reached midlife. Tell me about Jakob and the coins, I say, what is it like starting a new relationship in your forties, compared with your twenties?

“It’s very different,” she says. “I think you are more fully formed, especially if you have taken time out of previous relationships to find yourself.

“Early on after the break-up of my last relationship and before my current one, somebody encouraged me to write a list of needs and wants in a future partner. Needs are non-negotiable. If you go on a date with someone and realise they won’t meet, say, three of those needs, then they are not the person for you. It may last as a relationship, but it won’t make you happy. Wants are easier, not more frivolous per se, but easier to deliver. Doing this made it clear to me going forward who would be good for me in a relationship.

“And there is a new creativity nowadays to what a relationship should look like, too. For instance, my partner and I don’t live together. If we did, that would be the end of us. It works so well as it is, it feels so special when we do come together. And when I am with my kids, I can be completely there for them. It’s exciting. We choose when to be together. There is nothing locking us in, nothing that brings up that fear of ‘Oh gosh, I can’t leave because what will happen to the house, how will we separate?’. I start to miss the person I want to be with, which is a lovely feeling. And it is so huge for me to be able to see a pair of trousers left lying on the floor at my partner’s house and to step over them and not feel it is my job to do something about it!”

I’ve never interviewed a celebrity who, even though she is wearing heels (little pointy white boots) is still shorter than me (I’m barely 5ft 2in), but Anderson is tiny. This is only important to note, I think, because her roles since Dana Scully have been so big and so powerful: Blanche in A Street Car Named Desire and Margo Channing in All About Eve on stage; Lady Mountbatten in the film Viceroy’s House; Stella Gibson in The Fall; and now Jean Milburn.

I wonder if she is perhaps filed under “tricky, unpredictable, charismatic, spiky, intelligent and fearless woman” in the casting director’s directory of suitable roles. After all, her next part is going to be Margaret Thatcher (in The Crown). And when she arrives for our chat in the closed Chinese restaurant of a central London hotel, she apologises for the sticky mess in her hair caused by wearing the Iron Lady’s wig the previous day. Her nails are manicured pale pink like Thatcher’s too.

“She had a condition that meant two fingers of each hand would curl around — Reagan had it too — so it affected her gestures and she would wear lots of rings and bracelets to distract. But she kept her nails long, which is how I have to keep them now,” Anderson says. She is fascinated by Thatcher, concluding, after studying her childhood, that “nobody ever existed like her. She was unique.”

Anderson might be unique herself, and despite giving many interviews (three last year), I see that she has been smart and managed to remain a bit of an enigma. When I listen back to the tape, she is very good at general talk, but not so hot on specifics.

She spent her early years in north London with her American parents before going back to Michigan for high school. She was a teenage punk plagued by panic attacks that have continued to trouble her over the years, particularly during her intense work schedule on The X-Files. She went into therapy at 14, then became world famous at 25, and had her first child at 26 (the same age her parents had her, before going on to have her two siblings 12 years later). She split up with her first husband three years after that.

In 2011 she endured the death of her brother, Aaron, aged 30, from a brain tumour, which she rarely discusses. She is an impressive activist, campaigning for a variety of issues including women’s rights in Afghanistan, Burma, South Africa, Uganda and South America. There are 10 charities she has worked with listed on her website, and in 2017 she co-wrote We: A Manifesto for Women Everywhere, a well-received book of advice for women. She has also designed two small fashion collections for Winser London, which include some gorgeous silky blouses. I found I had three in my wardrobe without knowing they were hers.

She is a Bafta nominee and Golden Globe winner, and Neil Gaiman, who cast her in the TV series of his book American Gods, said: “She is in this strange place where everything exists in the shadow of Scully, yet she is bigger and better than that.”

When I listen to her 2003 Desert Island Discs, though, she tells a darker story. In between Radiohead and Jeff Buckley, she talks of troubled mental health that she has worked ferociously hard to improve. She has been in therapy for more than 30 years.

Anderson tells me she has been teetotal since her early twenties and despite some mild probing on my part is reluctant to elaborate on exactly why. I understand. She has soon-to-be teenage children who don’t need to know about any of the “dangerous things” she has done, as she described them to Sue Lawley.

I’m fascinated by Anderson and can see why she was the perfect person to cast as the quirky, funny therapist Jean in Sex Education, which really hits its stride in the second series. While still a comedy at heart, the subject matter tackled by its fantastic young cast is revelatory. Sex Education is one of the first productions to hire an intimacy director to make the young actors feel comfortable and process what they were doing, often naked in front of multiple cameras, to be happy and authentic about what they did and feel they had input.

Anal sex, drugs, masturbation, STDs and nudity feature graphically in this show, which I would advise all parents and teens to watch, though not at the same time — only Jean would do that. When I interview Anderson I have yet to see the finale, but Jean’s journey is that of many women in the middle of their lives after divorce with teenage children.

“There’s a grief, isn’t there?” Anderson says as we discuss the menopause. “I haven’t quite got to the place where I don’t have my eggs, but your body is going to mourn that, isn’t it? I remember the very last time I breastfed and it was heartbreaking. I wept and wept through it.

“And I know people who describe particularly difficult periods at home without realising they are describing their mothers going through the menopause.

“We’re all at the point where we’re kicking off just as our teenage children are kicking off. I was looking at some home videos of Piper when she was three and wondering where all my patience came from in my twenties. I have forgotten that version of me.”

She says she doesn’t feel quite ready for her two boys to become teenagers, but sometimes Jean slips into their conversations at home.

“I find myself saying something embarrassing at the dinner table and I don’t know if it is me or if Jean has given me the licence to say that. Maybe I have always been that way, though. Some of what she shares is too much information. I wouldn’t share it, even with my eldest in her twenties. But my son came home after having a sex education class and I completely clammed up. I couldn’t bring myself to continue the conversation. I just let it die. I really don’t know why.”

Over the years Anderson has tried to schedule her roles to fit in with her children, but like many of us who have devoted much of our time to careers, she still lives with nagging doubts about doing the right thing.

How did you deal with a small child while filming back-to-back episodes of The X-Files for 16 hours a day, I ask, especially when you decided to go it alone as a mum. “I missed her, really so much. Those moments when you see a small child in the street when you are apart from yours and the conversation just drops, it’s hard. She was on a plane a lot when she was six and we moved production to the West Coast. I justified that, I mean it was selfish on my part. I just could not imagine being away from her for long periods of time.

“I became obsessed with schedules, and I still am because of that time. I would plan and colour-code everything, make a series of propositions about schedules so I could see her, and the show would either reject or accept them.

“With the boys the longest I have been away from them was during the two X-Files movies, but again I would be travelling constantly to see them.”

I ask her if she regrets working so hard. “Not yet,” she says. “I have a feeling that will come. I definitely feel like on a level I do regret Piper flying back [to her dad, when she was six] as an unaccompanied minor.” We sit in silence for a bit, mulling over the thought.

“But there’s another version of my life where I could have worked less, had a smaller life and been more present as a parent. I could have chosen that, that could happen. But sometimes it feels like why would you, if you keep getting work as an actor, doing things you dreamt of doing and being offered incredible roles at this age, while paying the bills, and you still get to see them a huge percentage of the time and they witness a mother enjoying her work?”

She has talked to her daughter about it, but says Piper is not yet at the place where the lightbulb goes on and she realises Mum was still up at 6am the days she faced 16 hours of work to be with her, or those days we all have when we are still on the edge of the sports pitch, despite the demands of a job.

But Anderson is an all-or-nothing personality. She tells me she is either on a healthy eating plan, meditating and working out or hiding like a hermit at home eating chocolate. She has been plagued by frozen shoulders all her life, leading to months of pain-filled insomnia and cortisone injections.

“My default position is sedentary,” she tells me when I ask about her meditating and yoga right now. “I like being in bed in my PJs. When I’m working, like right now, I seem to exist mostly on chocolate. Then I go through a stage when I feel dreadful and I review it all and start a food plan, torture myself counting shots of milk and all that.

“In the cycle of all or nothing, I am in the nothing phase right now. It has gone on for quite some time, but I think I am better to be around. I was having lunch with my daughter and we were just, you know, eating, not asking for stuff without oils or sugar, and she said, ‘It’s so much better when you are not in that place.’ ”

I’ve enjoyed my hour with Anderson; she is likeable and thoughtful. I sort of hope we’ll meet again one day. It’s unlikely she’ll read the interview; she has said before that she rarely does. So what do I think as I walk away from her? I’m impressed by her curious nature and, obviously, her sense of style, a blueprint for us all at this stage of life, but mostly I’m inspired by her strong sense of self. It has obviously taken quite a bit of work for her to get there, but from what I can see, it has been worth it.

@GillianA

Sex Education series 2 is available on Netflix from Friday

Hair: James Rowe at Bryant Artists. Make-up: Mary Greenwell at Premier Hair and Make-up. Nails: Saffron Goddard at Saint Luke using Sisley Hand Care

#gillian anderson #sunday times #interview

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Changing Channels: Part One

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,123

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I am so sorry this is out late. I’ve been dealing with shit the past few days.

I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

“Dean, do you have to watch that here? I’m trying to eat,” you half-joked, throwing your wrapper of the candy you bought from the vending machine earlier.

He disregarded your comment as he stared at the TV as Dr. Sexy MD played. He was channel surfing, this was on, and he hasn’t taken his eyes off the TV yet. Right now, a doctor was making out with a woman in an elevator while you were eating on the bed next to him and Sam was in the bathroom.

“Dean, your girlfriend is right here. If you want a make out session, I’d be glad to give you one,” you added.

“What are you watching?” Sam asked from the bathroom door.

His brother’s voice made Dean snap out of his trance, but he didn’t look away from the TV.

“Hospital show. Dr. Sexy, MD. I think it's based on a book.”

“When did you hit menopause?” Sam scoffed.

Tipping your head back, you let out a loud laugh as you got off the bed.

“It's called channel surfing,” Dean pouted, getting up and turning off the TV.

Sam grabbed his suit jacket off the other bed and put it on.

“You boys ready?” you asked, putting on your grey blazer.

“Are you?” Sam asked Dean.

The older brother just rolled his eyes, grabbed his keys, and left the motel room with you and Sam snickering from behind him. The drive to the police station wasn’t long since you were down the street from it. As soon as you walked in flashed your important badges, the sheriff came out and started talking to you.

“The FBI is here why, exactly?”

“It might have something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off,” you said in a monotone voice.

“Bill Randolph died from a bear attack.”

“How sure are you that it was a bear?” you questioned.

“What else would it be?”

“Well, whatever it was it chased Mr. Randolph through the woods, smashed through his front door, followed him up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom. Is that common? A bear doing all that?” Dean asked.

“Depends how pissed off it is, I guess. Look, the Randolphs live way up in high country. You got trout runs to make a grown man weep… and bears.”

“Right, and what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says she saw the whole thing,” Sam commented.

“Yes, she did. My heart goes out to that poor woman.”

“She said it was a bear.”

“Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma. She's confused,” the sheriff said after a few reluctant pauses.

“What did she say?” you asked.

“I think you’d rather hear it from her. Take a seat in the interview room, and I’ll call her down to the station.”

“Thanks,” you nodded, leading the brothers to the room.

After taking a seat, you leaned back in exhaustion.

“What do you think she saw? Was it really a bear?” you wondered.

“I guess we have to wait and see,” Sam sighed as he took a seat.

Due to it being a small town, it didn’t take long for Kathy to show up at the police station. Once she was escorted into the room, she took a seat across from the three of you with a nervous look.

“Hi, Kathy, would you mind telling us what you saw the other day?” you asked gently.

She shook her head with a mutter as if she was talking to herself about what she might have sawn.

“It must have been a bear. I mean, what else could it have been?”

“What do you think you saw?” you asked.

“No, I—I remember clearly now. It was definitely a bear,” she nodded.

She was obviously hiding something from the three of you, and there was only one logical way to go about getting the information.

“Kathy, I’m sure it was a bear, but it really helps us if we can evaluate every single angle. Whatever you say, I promise you, we’ve heard it all. Just tell us what you thought you saw.”

“It's impossible, but,” she sighed, “I could have sworn I saw... the Incredible Hulk.”

“The Incredible Hulk…?” Sam questioned.

“I told you it was crazy.”

“Bana or Norton?” Dean asked, and you kicked him lightly underneath the table for teasing her.

“Oh, no, those movies were terrible. The TV Hulk.”

“Lou Ferrigno. Spiky-hair, Lou Ferrigno?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.”

“You think I'm crazy,” she sighed.

“No. Uh, no, it's just... would there be any reason that Lou Ferrigno, the Incredible Hulk, would have a grudge against your husband?”

“No. Why would he?” she asked.

“I think that’s all the information we need right now. Thank you so much for coming in and telling us the truth,” you smiled.

Getting up, you escorted her out of the room before turning to the brothers once you knew it was secure.

“The Incredible Hulk?”

“I think we need to look back on the police and news reports while someone goes and checks out the house.”

“I’ll check out the house. You can drop me off on the way,” Sam declared.

“Then, let’s go,” you agreed.

“This report is just weird,” you commented as you read an article in the Wellington Guardian about a "Local man killed in bear attack".

There was a picture of the victim holding a fish proudly that you assumed he caught. The door to the motel opened and Sam walked in with a look of seldom.

“Find anything?” you asked based on his expression.

“There is a giant eight-foot-wide hole where the front door used to be. Almost like a hulk-sized hole. What do you two got?”

“Well, it turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper. He's got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions. You might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry,” Dean read.

“So, a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead. Kinda sounds like just desserts, doesn't it? It's all starting to make sense.”

“How is making sense?” you asked.

“Well, I found something else at the crime scene,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of candy wrappers. He drops them on the table to show just how much he’s got. “Candy wrappers. Lots of them.”

“Just desserts, sweet tooth, and screwing with people before you kill 'em,” Dean observed and started to put the pieces together. “We're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?”

“Sure looks like it.”

“Good. I've wanted to gank that mother since Mystery Spot.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking positive.”

“No, I mean are you sure you wanna kill him?”

“That son of a bitch didn’t think twice about killing Dean a thousand times,” you argued.

“No, I know. I mean, I'm just saying maybe we should talk to him.”

“Excuse me?”

“Think about it, Y/N. He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met. Maybe we can use him.”

“For what?” Dean asked.

“Okay, the Trickster's like a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, women, song—maybe he doesn't want the party to end. Maybe he hates this ‘angels and demons’ stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us.”

“You’re actually serious about this,” you gasped.

“Yeah.”

“Ally with the Trickster. A bloody, violent monster, and you wanna be Facebook friends with him? Nice, Sammy.”

“The world is gonna end, Dean. We don't have the luxury of a moral stand. Look, I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all. If it doesn't work, we'll kill him.”

“How are we going to find him anyway?” Dean wondered.

“He doesn’t ever just take one victim. He’ll show somehow. I’m sure of it,” you sighed, taking a seat on one of the beds.

“I better make the weapons,” Dean declared, grabbing his keys to get the stuff out of the trunk.

Dean was almost done with sharpening the wooden stake that would kill the Trickster. There was something off about this whole thing and with the Trickster. Why was the name Gabriel coming to your mind whenever you thought of him? Why did he appear now, of all times? It’s been a long gap between the Mystery Spot events and now, so why pick now to show up again? There was something about this eating at your brain, and it bugged the hell out of you not knowing what it was.

Sam was sitting at the table with a police scanner on, waiting and listening for the right kind of call to come in that might point you in the right direction of the Trickster. Dean was on the last stake, although, he seemed pretty much finished. You, on the other hand, were nervously biting your nails in anticipation. Dean looked over at you, and he reached up and removed your hand from your mouth.

“Don’t bite your nails,” he stated.

Sighing, you were about to get up and start pacing when the police scanner started going off with chatter.

“Um, Dispatch? I, I got a possible 187 out here at the old paper mill on Route 6?”

“Roger that. What are you looking at there, son?” Dispatch asked.

“Honestly, Walt, I wouldn't even know how to describe what I'm seeing. Just send everybody,” the officer panicked.

“Alright, stay calm, stay by your car. Help's on the way.”

“That sounded weird, right? Like, weird enough to be our guy?” you asked.

“Let’s go find out,” Dean declared, getting up and gathering the weapons he made.

After packing the car, you three jumped inside. Dean took off down the road to the old paper mill on route six which was a longer drive than you thought it was. However, when you arrived, you frowned at the lack of officers and people.

“Where is everyone? There was a murder here. No police, no anyone. How’s that look to you?” Dean asked as he got out of the car.

Both you and Sam followed his action, and you walked to the trunk to retrieve your weapon.

“I don’t like this at all. Something is wrong,” you muttered loud enough for the brothers to hear it.

“It’s the Trickster. Don’t worry, he must be inside,” Dean shrugged, handing out the flashlights and bloodied stakes.

After he closed the trunk, he and his brother began walking to one of the warehouse doors.

“No, don’t open it!” you gasped too late.

Dean opened the door and walked in, you and Sam following behind. As soon as the door closed, you were no longer in the warehouse, but a hospital. Gone were your worn-out hunter clothes and stakes, only to be replaced with white lab coats and stethoscopes around your neck.

“What the hell?” Dean muttered in confusion.

A blonde doctor and an Asian doctor passed by the three of you, and they gave Sam and Dean sly looks.

“Doctor,” they said as they disappeared into a room.

“Doctor?” Sam asked.

“You shouldn’t have opened those doors,” you sighed.

Turning around, you opened the door you three walked through, expecting to see the outside of the warehouse. Instead, you saw two people making out, and you quickly closed it. A dark-haired male doctor walked past you, and as soon as he did, he slapped your ass with a grin.

“What the fuck?” you snapped angrily.

“Call me,” he winked at you.

Your body jerked forward at the thought of ripping him a new one when Dean held you back. There was no use in fighting anyone when you didn’t know what was going on and the circumstances of this. A brunette doctor quickly approached Sam from the side, muttering his name before slapping him across the cheek.

“Ow!” Sam gasped, your focus shifting from the perverted doctor to the new presence.

“Seriously.”

“What?”

“Seriously? You're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. You're a brilliant coward,” the woman sighed.

“Um, what are you talking about?” he asked, clearly confused.

She reached up and slapped him once more in the same spot.

“As if you don't know!” she sniffled, stalking off in the opposite direction.

While Sam had a look of complete befuddlement, Dean’s was more shocked and admired.

“I don’t believe this,” he smiled.

“What?” you asked.

“That's Dr. Piccolo. Dr. Ellen Piccolo.”

“Who?”

“The sexy yet earnest doctor at,” he walked as he looked around before spotting the name of the hospital on the wall, “Seattle Mercy Hospital.”

“Dean,” Sam sighed, “what the hell are you talking about?”

“The doctor getups. The, the sexy interns. The 'seriously’s’. It all makes sense,” he laughed.

“What is going on, Dean?” you urged.

“We're in Dr. Sexy, MD,” he chuckled.

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[kiss-my-freckle]

The Apothecary

8x5 episode description: “The task force investigates an organization of bank robbers with a special expertise in stealing from other criminals. An old blacklist case resurfaces.”

My suspect: The Apothecary 

Reasons why:

1. Red’s collapses. 

The timing is perfect because it’s like a reverse of The Apothecary’s episode. Instead of suspecting Dembe of poisoning him, Red’s first collapse came at a time when Dembe’s imam was abducted. Red has no reason to suspect him, which removes their need to do an exact repeat. 

Snakes -

The woman’s snakeskin boots as she entered the room. 

"The lab did find one distinct element in the molecular structure of the drops taken from Robert Dahle’s apartment. A peptide unique to the venom of Bungarus flaviceps, also known as the red-headed krait."

Jennifer's reference in S6 that reminds me of Liz's reference in S4 and ties in Red's reference in S2.

"I'm the snake in the grass."

"I’ll do my job, but I am done cozying up to that snake."

"Our fake father's a criminal, and our real one's a snake."

Orion Relocation Services + Fate - 

There are other seeds, like Dembe standing by the Orion stained glass window. 

The Hunter and his arrows. This made me think of The Deer Hunter and Liz's marionette comment, which she first mentioned to Ressler in The Longevity Initiative (2x17).

This also pulls in Keenler’s Capricorn Killer soundtrack.

♪ What arrow? At what angle? And what angel? ♪

And I already know Agnes is that angel because she was referenced twice, by the woman from Paris and Skip Sutherland.

“She’s an angel.”

“For a surcharge, I’ll even watch the cherub.”

Red’s Stairway To Heaven comment. "Who the hell's Elizabeth Keen?" because Liz was wrong. "I'm expecting a little devil of my own." As Red already warned us she would be. "What makes you so sure you're not wrong this time?"

My question is, what the hell happened? You did. You and Agent Ressler.

All that glitters is gold + Like I said, silver linings

Red’s symptoms, which mirror that of his original poisoning, only it’s more like an ongoing attack rather than a one-shot. I think they’re getting the formula wrong because The Apothecary didn’t have Red’s medical file. Kate only needed so much from him anyway because of her skill set. 

“Well, just that whoever poisoned him knew his medical history - intimately. The toxins were uniquely designed to target his body chemistry.”

She attended medical school and she knew of Red’s medical history.

"Your tremors are gone. But not the underlying condition."

His tremors were gone because he wasn't drinking the wine.

"Fun fact - Li Qing Yuen ate wolfberries every day of his life and was said to have lived to the ripe old age of 256."

The tests -

“We thought, at first, you may have had a series of mini strokes. But the MRIs, the EEGs, they ruled that out.”

“Vitals are - okay. Pulse. You need an MRI as well as a CT-scan.”

The medical file -

“There were no medical records, nothing about Reddington on file.”

“About my chart.”

The wine (with both his collapses) - 

“An old blacklist case” for an “old friend”

“Elizabeth, I found the wine that was used to administer the poison.”

“What? Everyone knows wine is dehydrating.”

The difference in doctors -

Dr. Clemons: "Not for her."

Dr. Stark: "Someone she cared about."

For the same reason the woman from Paris didn't turn to Norman Devane for herself, Red didn't turn to Spalding Stark for himself. He's trying to donate to someone he's related to, someone he actually cares about. That's why Red isn't collapsing, having tremors, or showing signs of vision and/or hearing impairment when he visits Dr. Stark, only when he visits Dr. Clemons. He's seeing two doctors for two different reasons. That’s why Dr. Stark purposefully stated that he doesn’t test on children. He’d experiment on Red because technically, he’s considered terminally ill. He has a running hit on his head. Dr. Stark would provide Red with hope of saving his future - Agnes, his granddaughter. Agnes runs opposite Ames in The Pharmacist. That’s why Red is financing Stark.

“My - My daughter’s pregnant. I want to see my grandchild. I can get you the money.”

Just as he financed Dr. Shaw to save Liz. 

2. Elodie killing her husband. 

Taking note how Aram's dialogue to Elodie's dead husband mirrors Red's comment to Tom in 5x8.

"I, uh - I know this is super awkward. But I think this might be in your best interest."

"I’ll say this for you - you’ve always believed that you were acting in her best interest."

As well as Red’s comment to Kate.

"And yet, I know you believe what you did was best for Elizabeth, which is why I brought you here."

Aram's comment... lol

"Quick stick. Oh, God. Oh."

This ties in Liz's second memory wipe. “You were drugged. Propofol, Tramadol.”  imo, the reason they've been mentioning Tom so much lately. 

Add in Elodie's comment -

"Who comes up with all the nicknames? General Shiro. The Pharmacist. The Apothecary.”

And Aram’s -

“You used me. You got me to open up to you. That’s why you kept asking about Blacklisters. To seduce me into giving you a murder weapon.”

3. “stealing from other criminals” like Red’s statement to Marvin.  

"I shouldn’t be surprised. We’re criminals, after all. It’s in our nature to betray."

Judas hits back to The Pharmacist (Dr. Stark). 

“I’ve always found stories of betrayal to be so compelling, so tragic for all those involved. Judas, Iago, men who were beloved by those they’d betrayed.” 

♪ There is a judas among us Nobody here we can trust There is a judas among us ♪ 

4. Marvin and Becky.

This is a man who already lost a son to suicide.

"They tracked him down, of course. Returned the child to his mother. Marvin was disbarred, convicted, and incarcerated. A year later, Timothy hung himself. He was 15."

Went to prison for three years because of his work with Red.

"He forced the FBI to release you from prison a week before your parole so that you could become his accomplice and help him escape during a police standoff. You had a new fiancé at the time, a whole life waiting. What do you have now, Marvin? Alone, on the run til you die?"

While incarcerated, lost his chance to have children with Becky.

"Becky hit menopause while I was in that bird cage. We wanted kids, but if you must know, I had performance anxiety during our conjugal visits."

The bird references are everywhere. Atticus at the mental hospital. Red wanting to hear the birds sing in Isabella Stone's episode. Agnes and her cuckoo clock. Mato and his cuckoo clock. Red wanting to hear the bird sing in Miss Rebecca Thrall's episode. 

"Because I am working in a toy store!"

Then Marvin went to work in the toy section, which likely upset him more, but it's as close to kids as he'll get. It’s also likely he did time with The Apothecary (Asa Hightower) because they took the death penalty off the table in exchange for curing Reddington. 

"I’m here because I need information about the prison where you served. Wallens Ridge, something’s happening inside those walls, and I need to..."

"You take the death penalty off the table, and I’ll tell you how to cure Raymond Reddington."

The father Asa became, the father Marvin wishes he could be. Asa raping his wife pushes to Hannah Hayes' episode.

5. My predictions for Ressler.

I already did a full-length post on my predictions for Ressler. Not sure where it is and I don't feel like looking for it, so I’ll keep it basic. Ressler went with Red to Dr. Stark’s lab FOR A REASON. Red’s two-for-one sale will become his two-for-one investment. “This is gonna be a gas.” Damn right, it is. Ressler’s gonna look at Red’s medical file in the hopes of helping Liz, only to find out Red is Katarina Rostova aka N-13. Then Red is gonna threaten Ressler with fire just as he did Minister D because it’s all about those blackmail dialogues - found in Minister D and The Informant, as well as the one Garvey handed to us with the bones. Add in Dom’s warning to Liz in 8x2 because knowing is enough. 

“I don’t bite. Unless you ever utter my name. In which case, I’ll gut you like a fish and feed you to the lobsters.”

While Red is threatening him, Ressler’s gonna talk his way onto Dr. Stark’s table like Norman Devane was, only it’ll be for a DNA test to see if he's the father of Agnes. “Because I honestly don’t want her to worry. Whether she does or not is ENTIRELY up to you.” This will be what saves his pretty face from fire, and follow through with Tom’s 4x8 iou. Because Agnes is a Ressler, not a Keen. imo, Ressler’s gonna save two people - Red and Agnes. Red’s two-for-one investment simply by bringing Ressler to Stark’s lab. Because Red knows Agnes is in need of a donation, but he has no idea he’s being poisoned. Ressler’s gonna realize Red is being poisoned, while Red is gonna realize Ressler is the father of Agnes. The not-so- cliché future in-laws. 

The Apothecary hits in so many directions.

#Rederina #Anti-Tom Keen #Anti-Keen2 #Keenler baby theory #memory wipe theory #My predictions

[wildlyminiaturesandwich]

Do you have pcos? or any kind of health problem that makes it hard for you to lose weight? I'm just curious, don't answer it if you don't feel comfortable

Ok so I got a couple messages asking this same thing, as well as people suggesting that “just lose weight and then try again”, so I’m gonna put a bunch of information (and I mean A BUNCH of information) under a cut here that explains everything and why “just losing weight” isn’t a solution nor is it the problem. Like, at all.

If you don’t want to read all of this, you really don’t have to. There’s a TL;DR at the bottom and I wouldn’t blame you for just scrolling straight there and skipping my rant lol

I don’t have PCOS, no, my weight is mostly a “side effect” of my mental health and years of trying different medications to help with that. Just in case some people aren’t aware, two of the most common side effects of anti-depressants are increased appetite and weight gain. That coupled with one of the two most common symptoms of chronic depression — lack of energy and motivation — means that over the years I’ve slowly put on weight.

Even though every doctor insists on telling me I’m overweight and need to lose weight as though I’m completely oblivious to my own body and such an idea as losing weight has never occurred to me before, I have in fact tried to lose weight many many times over the years with very little success no matter how healthily I ate and how much I exercised. The only time I have ever had success was back in my 20s when I switched to a gluten and dairy free diet to try to fix another issues I was having with my gut. This is why, in the past few weeks, Mr Sandwich and I have been slowly switching our diets to be gluten and dairy free.

BUT even though I am doing that, and exercising as much as I can with my limited energy, it’s not enough. I can lose weight, sure, but I can’t lose enough weight quickly (and safely) enough to be able to do IVF, which I’ll get to in a minute. So it’s not always as simple as “just lose weight”, everyone is different and despite what most people think, a lot of overweight people don’t chose to be that way. Why anyone would think that is beyond me, but a lot of people do and because of this you get people treating fat people as less than human, as though we’re not worthy of any kindness or sympathy because obviously we had to have done this to ourselves, right?

This is also why I get so annoyed when people equate being overweight to being unhealthy. The whole “overweight people are twice as likely to die early” bullshit is nonsense! Sure sometimes it’s the case, but not always. I am not medically unhealthy at all. Apart from being unable to conceive and my mental health issues, neither of which are a symptom or side effect of my weight, I am actually perfectly healthy. Over the past few years I’ve had every test anyone could come up with to try to find out why I wasn’t falling pregnant and that includes things like liver, kidney and thyroid function, cholesterol, diabetes and blood sugar tests, blood pressure, the list goes on. Everything everyone always associates with fat people, all of it was tested, and everything came back perfectly normal. I had a doctor literally say to me “If I hadn’t seen you in person, I would never have known you were overweight based on these results”, which just goes to show you how biased even doctors can be.

Warning: If you don’t wanna learn some interesting stuff about fertility and reproduction, don’t read any further.

So why am I trying IVF if I’m healthy?

Fun fact: When a woman talks about her “biological clock” ticking, it’s not even a joke; a woman’s biological clock is like a clock counting down from the moment she’s born… or maybe it’s more like an hourglass? Either way, unlike men, who can produce viable sperm from the time they hit puberty until the day they die, women have all the eggs they will every have in their entire life already tucked away in their tiny little ovaries from the moment they form as a fetus. That ovarian reserve starts at around 6-7 million follicles during the fetal stage, by the time that new baby girl is born that number has already dropped to 1 million, and by the time she hits puberty she’s only got about 300,000 left. Of those 300,000, only about 300-400 will be ovulated during her entire lifespan. That number obviously continues to decrease when a woman ovulates each month right up until they run out and that is when the woman will go through menopause, and there is no way to raise that amount either. Once the eggs run out, that’s it, there’s no more. Pretty grim huh?

By my age (35), a women with perfect reproductive health will have an AMH (Anti-Müllerian hormone, essentially an indicator of how many eggs you have) level of around 5.1 pmol/L (2.3 ng/mL) but for some reason, my ovaries seem to think I’m actually50. My AMH level is 0.3 pmol/L (0.1 ng/mL), which is considered EXTREMELY low and essentially what that means is I will never be able to conceive naturally. My only chance to conceive and carry my own biological child will be through IVF.

Now, it’s super important to note that low AMH has absolutely nothing to do with weight. There are a lot of different reasons that AMH levels can be low and they could be anything from hormone imbalance to a side effect of cancer treatments, from smoking to mumps. My hormones are normal, I’ve never had cancer or mumps, and I don’t smoke; in my case, it’s most likely due to constant and severe amounts of stress (like years and years of it). But seeing as there’s no medical way to test that, the cause of my low AMH has been deemed by my doctor as idiopathic (unknown). So while weight does have some affect on conceiving naturally, in my case it wouldn’t matter how much I weighed because my AMH level would still be low even if I wasn’t overweight.

In Australia, there are these wonderful things called Low Cost or Bulk Bill IVF clinics. At a private IVF clinic you’d be looking at about $10-15k (Aussie dollars) a cycle for IVF, but at a bulk bill clinic they can charge as little as $800! Unfortunately at these low cost clinics you’re not able to chose your doctor either, you just get whoever is available so that’s a problem too. But the way they’re able to keep costs low is a combination of Medicare rebates (Australia’s free health care system) and the fact that they don’t use full sedation during egg collection which costs a buttload of money because anesthetic. They use a combination of local anesthetic and twilight sedation, which means lower cost for the patient, it’s win win… unless you’re overweight. For reasons I have yet to figure out — because not a single clinic can come up with any reason every time I ask — most clinics demand you be under a certain weight before they’ll treat you. I’m not going to tell you my exact weight but it’s not anywhere near this stupid limit.

Another fun fact: This weight limit is non-existent in private clinics but I don’t have, nor could I get, $10-15k. The fertility specialist I spoke to yesterday also suggest bariatric (lap band) surgery as though that were an actual viable option. Like, listen lady, if I had the money for that (anywhere between $5-20k), don’t you think I would be using that to go to a fat-friendly private clinic instead of talking to your rude arse at a low cost clinic?! 

This all brings me back to the TL;DR of it:

Here’s the problem I’m facing. A year ago when my AMH (egg supply) was tested it was 1.4 pmol/L (0.6 ng/mL), which was already very low then, but it’s dropped down to 0.3 pmol/L in a little over a year, so at that rate I’m going to run out of eggs and be hitting early menopause most likely before the end of the year. At 35 years old.

Merry Christmas to me.

This has nothing AT ALL to do with my weight but for some reason these IVF clinics have a weight limit and there is absolutely no way I can lose enough weight (safely and healthily) before I run out of eggs, hence why I’m so mad. Even if I had barbaric surgery it still wouldn’t be enough time! None of these stupid clinics give a shit about that, all they keep saying is “lose weight and then come back to us”, as though I have all the time in the world!

My only options now are to a) rob a bank and take my fat arse to a private clinic. b) rob a bank, get myself some bariatric surgery and take a buttload of speed to lose weight SUPER fast, and then take myself to a low cost clinic. c) rob a bank and use the money to buy a baby. Or d) continue to do as I’ve been doing and will continue to do regardless of what happens and that’s lose weight the safe and healthy way and run out of eggs while I’m at it.

Last fun fact of the post: All of this could have been avoided had my stupid GP tested my AMH levels 5 YEARS AGO when I asked him to! It would have been low then as well but not as low so I would have had more time AND back then I would have just scrapped in under the ridiculous weight limit!

/rant

#i'm sorry it's so long 🙁 #nonsims #saviourhide #personal #Anonymous

[hollyteague]

Adult Acne Battle - £3000 Later (What I’ve Learned)

If you HAVEN’T struggled with Adult Acne - congratulations! Long may it last! The below is less relevant for occasional breakouts, but you still might find some bits useful... here is a table of contents so you can skip ahead.

NB: I am a normal person with 0 skincare qualifications, the below is my advice based on my own experience.

1. Intro

2. General Useful Info

3. Active Acne: Drugs from Docs

4. Easy Fixes/General Well-Being

5. General Rules

6. Acne Scarring (Clinical Treatment, Home Remedies)

7. Recommended Brands

8. Points of Interest

Intro

... it’s all you see in the mirror and every photo... it feels like a constant battle against yourself, you feel unhealthy and it actually REALLY HURTS. ... And it makes no sense, because you NEVER struggled with acne at school?! And you’re 25?! Life is hard enough!!!

Good News: you DON’T deserve it. Here is a list of things I’ve tried/researched and paid for (🤦‍♀️) so that you can explore some options with much less financial upheaval.

Bad News: it’s probs going to take 6-12 months before you see some results/work out what’s most beneficial to you. Sorry! But - slowly slowly catchy monkey & you will learn SO MUCH MORE than people with good skin in the process (knowledge = power) ... think that’s the only positive thing I can offer right now.

General Useful Info

- Your skin takes between 26-30 days to completely regenerate

- Your face is 64% water... DRINK DRINK DRINK

- LESS. IS. MORE. If you have problem skin, you are the beauty industry’s DREAAAAAM. There are SO many brands, SO many treatments and SO many people wanting to help, and you will pay ANYTHING for better skin. Proceed with caution! (Recommends for what I believe is “worth” considering are at the end of this doc)

- FROM NOW ON, use ONE cleanser TWICE a day & ONE moisturiser TWICE a day, then ONE scrub to be used ONCE a week. Even LESS if possible

- As an NB to the above 👆🏻 right now, you may well be making things worse (sorry). I visited a dermatologist who reminded me that the skin I do the LEAST with (he used my inner thigh as an example ... bit dodge 🤨) is currently the healthiest. That doesn’t mean there isn’t a problem, but does highlight the importance of giving yourself a break. Scrubs and I washes will really really irritate if used excessively.

Active Acne: Drugs from the Docs

(... because it’s NOT normal and it’s been going on FOREVER and the NHS need to sort it out and life isn’t FAIR 👊 💕 🌈 )

- LEVEL 1 - “Zineryt” - antibiotic which you apply to the skin. Note: you’re really only treating the epidermis here but if used in conjunction with:

- LEVEL 2 - Oral Antibiotics (various names) - internally treat 👍 you need at LEAST a three month course for this to be beneficial, and I don’t personally believe that using one without the other (oral and topical) would have much of an effect. They need to happen together

- LEVEL 3 - “Benzoyl peroxide” ... this really stings 😣 works as an antiseptic to reduce bacteria. NB: “peroxide” = bleach 🤢 😳 This is effective almost immediately but definitely causes skin irritation, and needs to be applied regularly... ie, regular stingy stingy. For some people, surface bacteria is the cause (even post-washing) so this treatment is a life-saver!

- LEVEL 4 - DUN DUN DUUUUUN - 🧙‍♀️ “Roaccutane” also known as “ Rizuderm” or “Isotretinoin” ... “when all else fails”. This is a nasty naaaasty drug and there are lots of waivers to sign before taking including promising not to get pregnant! I did not take this medication (although I was eligible) because it is highly dehydrating, and I didn’t know what effect it might have on my voice. However, I have three friends who have undergone the course, and aside from having to bath in coconut oil ever day, it was by FAR the most effective treatment. IMO, this is absolutely a last resort - read the side effects and decide if you really HAVE tried everything else before going to argue with a doctor 👩‍⚕️ 👨‍⚕️ 💕 they don’t particularly like prescribing it either

- For women, contraceptives willllllll be discussed as they’re the cheapest & easiest of the hormonal offerings (combi pill recommended for adult acne). This is really a personal preference thing, DONT feel pressured into switching like it’s the ONLY option. Try to keep a log of any significant skin changes through the month (even if you’re on a pill where you don’t bleed 🩸yum!) and if you HAVE recently switched contraceptives, it’ll take a good 6 months for things to settle/work through your body

- Topical Retinoids (various names) - discussed later under “Home Treatments” but occasionally prescribed by doctors... much less popular and much less effective for very active acne IMO

Easy Fixes/General Well-Being

- Try to drink a minimum of 2litres of water per day - much more if you are exercising. For every caffeinated or alcoholic drink, you -2 glasses of water 🍷 ☕️ ☹️💔 keep drinking! (Water, not wine!) Permanently attach a straw!

- Vitamins with biotin & keratin can really help (if you’re good at taking vitamins!) although I’m sceptical (I don’t think a keratin deficiency is the root cause of acne) & results are too slow for someone like me. However, if you DO have brittle nails/thinner hair, it may be worth considering

- Usual Mantra - happy body, happy mind - and undoubtedly better skin. Feed the machine good foods, and be mindful of sugar content, which really will have a direct effect. NB: Post-workout glow is definitely a thing! 💪

- Adult acne can often be a sign of something going on internally... have a health check & gets some bloods done. Initially I was diagnosed with early menopause (yikes!) but after additional tests I was told I (like lots of women) have PCOS. Not life threatening, but very useful information that I would have really appreciated a good 5 years ago 🤦‍♀️ and now shapes a lot of my diet/approach to health

General Rules

- Try not to touch your face/back/areas with breakout. Even clean fingers will transfer additional oils

- If you have a spot NEVER. EVER. EVER “pop” it!!! Leave it ALONE until it comes to a head, then use a sterile needle to make one SINGLE hole and gently squeeze. The more you pop, the more scarring you will have

- Wash face twice a day - once additionally if you exercise (try to wash as quickly as possible after you run to rebalance pH).

- Use medium temperature water. If you need to open pours or want to help a spot along 🤦‍♀️ use a hot towel on the one area rather than across your whole face, and make sure you finish with a cold compress to close everything back up again

- Invest in a silicone sponge to wash your face (link attached) they are cheap and help to keep hands away & bacteria at bay. There are lots of expensive silicone products (eg foreo luna have a silicone range that also vibrates ... I have one, it feels nice, but it’s just a gimmick!). Get rid of any muslin cloths/face flannels you’ve previously invested in

- Use ONE moisturiser, ONCE a day and make sure it has a good SPF. Brands recommended under ... “Recommended Brands”

- Exfoliation &/ glamorous face mask MAXIMUM once a week. (Less is more less is more less is more). Again, see “Recommended Brands”

- ... Ahhhhhh lovely makeup covering all of those unlovely lumps and bumps and then making additional lumps and bumps 🤦‍♀️ MINERAL MAKE UP ONLY, HENCEFORTH. And whatever happens, do NOT fall asleep in it.

Acne Scarring

😔😔😔😔 (when the battle is kind of (mostly) over, you realise this is the hardest bit to fix).

If you have scarring AND still have active acne, DONT BOTHER WITH ANY OF THE BELOW. There’s really no point. Get the initial problem under control, THEN you can start thinking about how you’re going to get yourself to bare faced freedom.

Clinic Treatments

- LEVEL 1 - “Milk Peel”- the least abrasive chemical peel... between 4 & 8 treatments recommended, each treatment lasts about 45 mins. Lovely experience! No makeup for 24 hours and healthy skin looks kind of glowy for a day or two......... however, absolutely zero effect on scarring (total cost, £200!)

- LEVEL 2 - “Chemical Chemical Peel” - this was called a “Cosmo” - no idea what that means really other than it hurt MORE than the milk peel and left my significantly more red, with peeling etc. These treatments definitely DID have an effect, and perhaps with another round of 4, I would be a disciple... I really feel that the aftercare is annoying though... and it really is an uncomfortable procedure (acid on the face... yeah... hmmm). Cost - £250 for 4 appointments

- LEVEL 3 - “Micro Needling” - NOW. THIS ONE, if you can afford it, makes the most sense. Essentially, the needle re-damages the skin, encouraging it to re-heal itself, promoting collagen and elastin in the process. Hurts less than a chemical peel too 😂🤦‍♀️ course of 4 - £400. Excellent. 🤦‍♀️😒

- LEVEL 4 - “Laser Skin Resurfacing” ... I’m too poor to try this, but I would imagine the results are amazing .... it’s a laser, and it re-surfaces your skin, so 🧙‍♀️. Single Treatment, costs range from £600-£1000. Advice: GO TO A DERMATOLOGIST. I’m sure cheaper alternatives are available at salons and I’m SURE all salon practitioners are registered and hygienic but ... again - IT’S A LASER... ON YOUR FACE.

Yum yum yum - after most of these treatments, you might be asked if you want to sit under a LED Light Box - say yes! It takes 15 mins ish and kills bacteria.

DON’T BOTHER WITH:

- Dermaplaning! You might not be eligible anyway if you have particularly bad scarring.... lovely treatment with many benefits, but won’t fix anything

- Microdermabrasion! As above! Also really might not be a good idea if your skin is particularly sensitive after all the lotions and potions you’ve been using to try & clear up all that acne

- Any kind of facial that claims to use super special fancy lotions. It will be a lovely experience, but it will do very little.

Home Treatments

- The Ordinary (see “Recommended Brands”) have an exfoliating peel (ONCE A WEEK. ONCE A WEEK!) which does certainly lift and brighten - search for “AHA 30% + BHA 2% Peeling Solution” (easy to type, eh)

- Retinols ... to be used with caution. The Ordinary provide an affordable range of %s - retinol works to increase cell renewal and tackle blemishes and pigmentation... Start a lower % and be super careful to use an SPF. If you have active acne, avoid - it will irritate it further

- Home Derma-Rollers - similar concept to the microneedling treatment, but you MUST. MUST. Keep your equipment sterile and keep rolling to a MINIMUM. Every two weeks is still too much! Give your skin a break!!!!!! Rome wasn’t built in a day!

Recommended Brands

- Bare Minerals, for all make up. Other mineral brands are available, but I like the ethos of Bare & the customer service they provide is second to none. They will give you lots of samples to try, and ALL of their staff are real brand pioneers. They’ll also do you a full face of makeup with no appointment, which is very much appreciated on a bad day. Love u Bare Minerals 💕 (Cost: Mid-Range)

- For me, Dermalogica is the one and only skincare brand 💋💋 It’s the easiest of all and feels like a professional product at all times. You only need ONE cleanser (Ultra Calming, to calm me down - thanking you) ONE moisturiser (more options available, but I would stick with Active Moist) and ONE exfoliator/scrub (Daily Microfoliant is fine, but - don’t use daily 🤦‍♀️). For heavier make up wearers, Precleanse Oil is a blessing. Again - samples available and if you go to a department store, lots of advice will be offered. Don’t be seduced by serums. (Cost: Mid-High Range)

- The Ordinary (mentioned above) are kind of cool because they just sell the BASIC product ingredients, making them much cheaper. Woohoo! You can concoct your OWN lotions and potions, how exciting! However, proceed with caution: you may find you end up a failed skin scientist, as lots of the chemicals will cancel each other out/won’t be effective. Eg. Vitamin C Suspension with Retinol in Squalene which you might be tempted to use after some research. There are articles available online to help with this

- CHEAPEST OF ALL - “Kaeso” (available online) sells a box containing cleanser, toner, moisturiser, exfoliator and mask for approx £20. The “Rebalancing” collection is for problem skin, although the hydrating collection may also be nice to try. You get SO much product for so little here, but IMO, if you have particularly bad acne, the cleanser actually isn’t strong enough. Useful to have in the cupboard though/when payday feels a long way away.

- Other brands: Juliette Armand (Cleanser & Moisturiser yum yum!) ZO Skin Health (although these are usually salon based only) Environ (far superior, but less affordable for me!). Again - you only need ONE cleanser & ONE moisturiser, then ONE scrub to be used ONCE a week!!!

Dermalogica, The Ordinary, Kaeso Beauty & Bare Minerals are all cruelty free paraben free microbead free formaldehyde free etc etc but more research needs to be taken with other recommended brands. NB: If you choose to use a moisturiser/makeup that doesn’t contain an SPF, you WILL need an SPF additionally, even on a cloudy day ☁�� Embrace the Vit D but say no to sun damage

Points of Interest

- Male & Female skin have different structures and will respond differently to different products and treatments. Most notable, male skin is about 25% thicker so much tougher, which more sebum production ie. guys are more prone to blackheads.

- There is much research being done into the acne occurrence as a predictable side effect of masculinizing hormonal therapy in transgender patients, after six months or more of testosterone treatment. More research necessary but I HAVE read that antibios have proved to be effective, as well as low doses of Isotretinoin, although this is far less likely to be prescribed due to anxiety/depression side effects.

- Super weird - peanut butter (aside from having high fat & sugar levels ... brand dependent obvs) CAN sometimes contain androgens (male sex hormones) ... give it a google, it’s all a bit strange but might lead you to cutting down

- Toothpaste DOES help to dry problem spots out ... the cheaper the brand the better 😂 🦷

#acne #adult acne #skincare #dermatology #microneedling #beauty #skincare routine #hormonal #hormones #treatment

[pinkykitten]

The best date ever

DC

Arthur Curry x female! reader

Warning: curse words

Specifics: fluff, romance, comedy, one-shot, pictures, gifs, race-neutral reader

People: arthur curry, you, diana prince 

Words: 2,620

Requested: By @divaanya Hi!!! So about that sequel to The Old Man's Tale.. 😍😂 I'm not sure if you wanted specifics here or in submissions, so I'll put them here... I was thinking simply about them having that dinner, maybe Arthur picking her up in the morning, showing her around the town, then them eating and talking about her drawings and just fluff...😍😍😍 And I'd love to read anyting you feel like writing about them... And any other aquaman fics you come up with!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Authors Note: srry fam for not posting in a while, ive just been rlly stressed out lately with some personal things like my plate is so full. so pls fam be patient i am still writing just at a slow pace, i need to find a good time to write so im still working that out rn. i hope u guys like this, again srry my peeps! <3<3<3

“Oh my god,” you shouted as you quickly rose up from your slumber, remembering today was the day. “Crap! I have that date with,” you sigh. “My sexy hunk of a hero.”

At the speed of light you got ready, making sure you looked beautiful and glamorous for this date. 

“Perfect,” you chuckled as you looked at yourself in the mirror, posing and modeling to yourself. 

All of a sudden you heard a car’s horn beep from outside. You grabbed your things such as your sketchbook, your phone, the same things Arthur had saved. You open the door and there is standing Arthur with a bouquet of flowers. 

“I found these and thought ‘hey they are beautiful’, and then I thought for a while ‘who could I give this to,’ and then I thought of you.” Arthur grinned from ear to ear, his personality seemed to beam and make the world a better place. 

“Awww these are for me? Arthur they are extremely beautiful,” you stand on your tippy toes and give him a peck on his cheek. “Thank you! Let me find a vase for these.”

While you are putting the flowers away, Arthur stares at you from afar. You are truly a beauty. He can’t help but linger longer in looking at your curves, your body. The way the dress hugged you tightly, the curve of your butt. Your legs that to him looked better than even Diana Prince. The way you moved yourself about made Arthur like you more, made him want to understand you and get to know you more. 

“You look really, really, really, pretty today y/n.” 

You turn around, bashful and place the vase on a nearby table, “oh stop you! But thank you, you always look handsome yourself Curry. Whelp are you ready to go?”

“Ready as ready can get sweetheart,” Arthur opened the door for you. “But before we eat, how about I show you the best places around town?”

“I would really like that,” you smile as you take Arthur’s hand that he offered you and go to his car.

As Arthur’s driving a sweet melody of a tune is playing on the radio, making the morning relaxing. 

“I can’t wait to see where you live! All the stuff you do daily, things that make you happy, stuff like that,” you smile as you wrap your tiny arm around his strong, muscled one. Arthur grins seeing how adorable you are and how interested you look at knowing about his home. 

(ok but i love this gif because his smile is the bomb and the scrunchie is my life; sometimes i ask myself, how r we the same species?)

He gently holds your small hand and laces his thick fingers with yours. You peer up at him and see he is speaking about something the opposite way. Your heart beats vigorously, you are bashful and try to hear what he is talking about but you just stare at your two hands together, his and yours. They looked perfect as one, this meant something right?

“So what do you think, onto another sight?” Arthur asked, now his focus was on you. You fanned yourself and breathed harshly, “ooh is it me or is it extremely hot in here? Wooo, woah, ok, wow.”

“Y/n, its colder than an igloo in here, how in god’s name are you hot?”

“...menopause?”

Arthur chuckled, knowing exactly why you were like this. He knew it was about him holding your hand. He felt the way you tensed up when he did that, it made him for some reason happy. Happy to know that you were nervous around him because then you care about how he sees you, you care about his feelings. 

“You look beautiful by the way sweetheart. You know what I don’t think there has ever been a day for you when you didn’t look beautiful.”

You swatted his way as you chuckled while rolling your eyes, “you’re too much Arthur Curry. Do you flirt with all your girls like this?”

“No...just you.”

Your eyes bugged wide open and you tried to change the subject. “What’s that place over there?”

“Oh that, that’s the ice skating rink. Its been there for like forever, its really fun. It may not look much but that’s where people just enjoy each others company, love birds, kids, teenagers, you name it, they go there.”

“That sounds so nice. Lovebirds you say though?” You raise your brow as your arm rests on the center console of the car. Arthur turns his head from the window to you and his head moves closer to yours. In a sultry, raspy, deep voice he says, “yeah many, many lovebirds go there. They dance around each other and sometimes get to touch.” Arthur comes closer and his lips almost go to yours, but then he stops. He smiles, “that means then we should go!” He gets out of the car so quickly you didn’t have a chance to think about what just happened. 

“What!?!”

One minute you thought you were going to kiss this hunk of a merman and now he’s wanting to go ice skating, and you don’t even know how to ice skate! Then you realized, he was trying to play hard to get. He flirts and tries to kiss you and then he doesn’t! “Well, two can play it that game!” You thought in your head. 

“Okay I should of told you this but Arthur...I can’t skate!” Your holding onto Arthur for dear life as you stand on the ice with the skates on.

“Well lets just practice a little, I’m gonna let go-

“No Arthur don’t you let go I swear if you let go I’m gonna punch you in the balls so hard that you’re gonna wish you were a woman, don’t you let go!”

“And when I let go y/n, lets see if you can skate on your own. Okay 1, 2, 3.” Arthur lets you go and pushes you forward to bring speed to you. You slide forward with a shriek as you can’t stop. As you’re about to fall to your death Arthur comes to the rescue and picks you up with ease. “Man, sweetheart I’ve already saved your life twice. I should get a reward.”

Arthur holds your hand as he practically guides you through on the ice. “Yeah you want to see your reward?” You smack his torso and shoulders but unfortunately with your size compared to his you didn’t really do much damage.

“Ouch what was that for?”

“What was that for? Arthur I nearly almost died...again! You pushed me you hot, idiot, jerk, stupid, guy!” You look straight up into his eyes with an angry face. 

“So you think I’m hot?” Arthur comes closer to you. 

You try to slide back but you trip and that makes Arthur strong hands go to your back, near your butt and bring you closer to his body. “I never said a thing like that.”

Arthur’s handsome face gets closer with yours and his body is touching your body, tightly pressed together. “I think you did, I know you did.”

You look away as you put your hands up. His lips go to your ear, “don’t worry y/n, I think I’m hot as well.”

Your face becomes annoyed as you shove his face away from you and roll your eyes. “Haha, good one.” You say sarcastically as his laughter booms loudly. He laughed so hard he had to wipe a tear. “Was it really that funny Arthur?”

Arthur nods, “oh yeah definitely. You should of seen your face!”

“HAHAHAHAHA WELL YOU SHOULD OF FELT YOUR JUNK, CUZ IT WAS GIVING A STANDING OVATION!” You then laugh really hard at your joke and pretend to wipe a tear. You see Arthur’s face as he gives you a death glare. You chuckle some more as he skates towards you. He wraps his hand in yours and you two skate like normal people do, or how the lovebirds do. 

It was actually really romantic. 

“There you go sweetheart, just like that.” You actually were skating correctly, of course holding for dear life onto Arthur, but still you did it. You were skating smoothly, almost perfectly. 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m doing it!” You smiled up at Arthur, your smile beaming. This made Arthur happy and his heart pound. He couldn’t focus on anything except you, the way you looked up at him. You looked like a goddess, like his whole life revolved around you. Like you were meant to be his, and he was meant to be yours. 

“Arthur, Arthur, Arthur! We’re gonna crash!”

As soon as you said that you and him crashed into the wall. Before your body could hit the cold, harsh ice, Arthur fell on his back but caught you just in time. 

“Oh my! Arthur are you okay?” You felt yourself being carried and laid, on your stomach, on his chest. His eyes were shut, so you shook him and tried to get him to wake up. “Arthur please wake up! Are you okay?”

You were starting to get worried that he hurt himself badly until he woke up. “Did I scare you?”

You smacked his face a couple of times, “Are you serious? Yes you scared me Arthur! I thought you were hurt. C’mon lets go somewhere to eat because I am starving.”

Arthur got up with your help and placed his hand on your hip as you two walked to the car. “Hey, thanks for worrying about me.” Arthur bent down and kissed your cheek, then he walked to his car leaving you all bashful. 

“I swear this boy,” you muttered.

You two ended up deciding to go to a pizza restaurant. (if u dont like pizza then u r cursed and have sinned because pizza is a gift from god) 

As you walked in the smell was good! It smelled delicious! Your stomach growled at the thought of fresh, hot pizza. 

“Sorry for keeping you waiting. We could of gotten food sooner.” Arthur looked at the menu by the cashier. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder. If no one knew it, it looked as if you two were a couple.

Suddenly Arthur stomach growls. “Well if you were hungry Arthur, we could of gotten some food.”

Arthur puts his hair in a man bun with his light pink scrunchie, you could tell he was embarrassed. “I didn’t want to interrupt you having fun on the ice.”

You stood on your tippy toes and kissed Arthur’s cheek, “thank you, that was really sweet of you.”

After you two bought the pizza, you guys sat at the booth by the window. 

“This looks so good! I’m starving!”

“Well y/n, bon appetit!”

You ate like you haven’t eaten in years, the pizza was so perfect and so delicious in your mouth. The atmosphere was perfect. Jazz music was playing in the background, there were not too many people there but enough to hear talking. It was gloomy looking outside since it was so cold. You took your coat off and placed it next to you. 

“So I saw your sketchbook, what do you draw?” Arthur asked, taking a gigantic bite out of his Hawaiian pizza. 

“Oh pretty much everything. Yeah, I like to draw animals, settings, but mostly people. I mean I love art but sketching and drawing is my passion, it lets me vent as much as possible. I just think about life when I draw. Think about how I want to better my life, how to better me.” You find yourself getting off the discussion. “Sorry, I’m talking too much aren’t I?”

Arthur placed his hand on yours and smiled, “not at all. Please continue.”

“I wanted to get away from my day to day life. Sometimes doing the same thing over and over, day by day can be such a bore and honestly tiresome. That’s why I needed to come here. I wanted to experience a place like never before, and also encourage myself to draw more.”

“Well I’m glad you made that decision to come here, if you hand’t then I would not have met you.”

“Thank you Arthur.”

“Can I see your drawings?”

You started choking on your piece of pizza, “what? You mean like mine, my drawing as in my own, like mine?”

“I’m pretty sure mine means that.”

You chuckled and scratched the back of your head, “I don’t know Arthur, they’re not that good.”

Arthur gave you a wink, “c’mon y/n, I know they’ll look amazing.”

You pull out your sketchbook from your bag and hand it to him. 

“Wow y/n,” was all he said as he was mesmerized, captivated by your art. “You are incredible y/n, just incredible! I’m speechless with how you draw.”

“Thanks, it feels good to have someone important say such great things about them.”

Arthur almost turns to the page you don’t want him to see. “Um don’t see that drawing.”

Arthur raises his brow, “why not?”

“Because it has something personal on there.” You try to grab it but Arthur is too quick and moves it away from you. “Give it back Arthur!”

“Wait! I want to see what it is.” As he says this he turns the page to show a drawing of him. 

You feel hot and so embarrassed. Your hands become so sweaty and your heart pounds. Will he think your drawing is weird or stupid? 

“Y/n, this is so beautiful. I can’t believe you drew me.” Arthur was baffled at your gift. Just from seeing him in a short time you sketched him out like you knew him for many years. You got each curve and each detail of his face and body. 

“I studied your face long and hard when you picked me up. I had to draw out my hero.” 

Arthur’s smile made you fall more in love with him. “I’m sorry if me drawing you was weird. I can just get rid of it when I go back to my cabin.”

“No! Please y/n, don’t. Please don’t get rid of this amazing drawing. Hel* I wish I could draw you, but not even a dam* drawing would show and describe how beautiful you are, not words not art, nothing. You are so frickin gorgeous and sweet y/n, you really are.” Next thing you knew Arthur got up and sat next to you in the booth. Feeling shy you backed away in the booth but this just made Arthur get extremely closer to you. His wild blue eyes were half lidded as he was overpowered with love and lust for you, and to be honest so were you. Arthur came closer and closer to you until his huge body trapped your tiny, fragile one against the wall. “I so wanna kiss you right now,” breathed out Arthur, rubbing delicately your cheek. 

“I wanna kiss you so bad too,” you said in a whisper, looking directly at Arthur’s plump lips. Without no hesitation Arthur’s lips crashed on yours. You two didn’t care who was watching or who was there. This kiss was needed. Arthur’s tongue slipped in your mouth in one swift movement, but just as quick as it went in it went out. He was teasing you! He was showing you what was to come if you two spent the night in a sexual escapade. You two made out a few more seconds until you and him separated to catch your breaths. He leaned his forehead against yours, “boy am I glad you decided to come here for your vacation.”

You chuckled and touched Arthur’s facial hair, “me too Arthur. Me too.”

Tag List: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @dreamsofwhiteandblack, @hyehoney, @wtfisalltherandoms, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag) , @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @polyglot-t, @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @collectiveyou, @divaanya

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[icanseeyoufromhere]

On lists and lessons

March 26, 2018.

December 10, 2018.

January 14, 2019.

February 26, 2019.

April 24, 2019.

June 20, 2019.

These are dates that I’d like to say I’ll always remember, but I probably won’t. I mean, I am terrible with names, dates, all that good stuff. 

For example, I often confuse my kids’ birthdays. 

This gaffe is not totally unreasonable. Camilo was born on 9/18/15, and Magdalena was born on 9/14/17. Both are September babies, and all the other numbers in their birthdates sit in the ‘teens, really close to each other. But I’ve had people look at me twice, because I get the dates wrong. You do not want the receptionist at the ER questioning your maternity in the middle of the night when your kid has got croup.

So I’d like to say I will remember the dates of my six surgeries, but I am just not sure. 

Happily, I have this little blog, and now the dates are forever archived somewhere in the ether, for generations to come:

1. March 26, 2018. First (unilateral) mastectomy on left side, to remove cancerous tumor, with removal of lymph nodes and insertion of expander.

2. December 10, 2018. Emergency replacement of expander with silicone implant so that I could have an MRI of my ovaries. Fat grafting to help fill out the implant so it would look more natural.

3. January 14, 2019. Second (unilateral) mastectomy (prophylactic this time) on the right side, with insertion of expander. Excision on the left side to scrape out some remaining tissue that wasn’t fully cancer free and also to remove a patch of skin that was dangerously thin.

4. February 26, 2019. Total hysterectomy, including removal of tubes and ovaries.

5. April 24, 2019. Emergency replacement of expander on the right side because skin had become blistered and eventually ruptured. 

6. June 20, 2019. Replacement of expander with silicone implant on the right side. Fat grafting on both sides to help fill out the implants.

My kids’ grandkids didn’t even know they wanted this list! And now they have it. You’re (all) welcome.

Anyway, I have had six surgeries in just over 15 months. Four were planned. Two were not. My body has been through the ringer. I’ve taken so many drugs of so many kinds--antibiotics, opioids, acetaminophen, stool softeners, even a bit of valium; had lots of JP drains (including one currently); and have so many scars all over my torso, my breasts, and between my legs.

It shouldn’t surprise that, over the course of these medical procedures, I’ve learned quite a bit about myself. I thought I’d list a few of those lessons here, alongside (or just below, really) the list of dates of the surgical interventions that have marked my life (and my family’s life) since I had my first mastectomy last March 26.

A short-term thing (god, I hope it’s short-term):

1. I now go to bed with the reasonable expectation that I will be up for at least half the night (often more), unable to sleep. 

Early menopause has not been completely unkind to me. The hot flashes are hot, but they’re manageable. I’m feeling generally pretty good emotionally, although now when I get mad (not an uncommon thing, heh) I tend to get really mad, really fast.

But I don’t sleep. I mean, sure, I will fall asleep, often as early as 8:30 (because I’m so damn tired). But I will quite reliably be up again, sometimes at 10, sometimes at midnight, but always before 2 am. And then I’m up. Like, really up, often for a really long time. Hours and hours. With phone, without the phone (I know the screen messes with our sleep cycle), it doesn’t matter. And I am so fucking tired. 

During those sleepless hours, I spend a lot of time wondering. I wonder how long one can function with so little sleep. I wonder if lack of sleep can cause cancer. I wonder if this world will be around long enough for my kids to have grandkids. I wonder about concentration camps and my kids drowning in pools and if I passed along my genetic mutation to either (or both) of them. You get the gist. These are not pleasant musings. I try to shift course, meditate, play Wordscapes on my phone. I run through my old high school balance beam routine, over and over in my head. I get up, kiss my kids, drink water...I NEED TO SLEEP. So, so desperately. 

I’ve learned, in short, that early menopause for me means coping with temporary insomnia.

Other, longer-term lessons:

2. Each surgery has required at least a couple days of repose. I have learned, however, that I. Cannot. Just. Sit. Still. Four hours after my total hysterectomy I was picking up toys and sweeping the floor. You know, just some light housework after having a few reproductive organs removed. It’s rather sick. I’m not proud of this. My inability to lie in bed probably helped produce some of the physical setbacks and at least one of the emergency surgeries (#5. April 24, 2019). It has not, however, produced ANY FUCKING SLEEP. So go figure. 

3. I am a lazy medicator. I mean, I took my antibiotics every six hours for seven days, as per doctor’s orders. But I’m really bad with pain management. To wit: I still haven’t taken the 500 grams of acetaminophen that I was supposed to take two hours ago, even though I feel quite a bit of pain under my right armpit, where the scar is healing and the JP drain is protruding from my skin. It’s the same when I have a headache, or when I used to have menstrual cramping. I just ride out the discomfort, as if science hadn’t created tiny, magical pills to take away the pain. I don’t know why I am like this. I literally just typed about my need for acetaminophen. I have the acetaminophen right next to me, as well as a glass of water. And I still haven’t taken it! What is wrong with me? 

(I just took the acetaminophen.)

4. When I woke up this morning (after falling asleep some time around 4 am), my feet were where my head should be. As in, I decided to flip around and put my pillow at the foot of the bed. As a long-time poor sleeper, I, at some point along the way, realized that this shift in perspective could at times help me fall asleep.

Matias mocked me earlier today about this, saying something to the effect of: “What do you think that does for you? It’s ridiculous.” 

(Oh, the hormonal-induced RAGE.)

Setting aside my offense for a moment, let me put on my social scientist hat. There could be science at play here. Flipping the person is not unlike flipping the mattress, right? And there is loads and loads of research (read: un-verified websites like this one) on the benefits of a flipped mattress! So, yeah, when I cannot sleep, I have learned that turning around at night can help. Insomniacs, take note.

5. Finally, and perhaps rather cheesily, my body is fragile and also fierce. 

When I had the emergency expander replacement (again, surgery #5, April 24, 2019), my plastic surgeon used both stitches and staples to close up the space where the bad skin used to be. It was the most Edward Scissorhands-y of all of my surgeries. The suture crossed my breast, from about 2:00 to 8:00, just missing the nipple. It was creepy. I couldn’t look at it. I didn’t even document it with a photo, so I can’t share the evidence with you here. (Sorry...or, perhaps, you’re welcome?) 

In the matter of a 1.5 hour surgery, my body had been opened and then sealed shut, with metal and twine and glue. For weeks after, I looked like a sewed up ragdoll from the stories (and nightmares) of my childhood. 

My skin, so delicate and yet so robust. Today, you can barely see the scar. 

When I look at my JP drain, my scars, my new breasts, my newly curly hair (it’s called “chemo curl”), I think that we, as humans, are simultaneously strong and weak. So prone to damage, and also so highly resilient. Vulnerable to illness and yet up to the challenge of fighting it. 

I don’t seek to resolve this paradox. I marvel at it sometimes. I cry about it too. I’ve lived with it for months and think it probably best to simply describe rather than explain its existence. 

I will say this. The duality of our physical reality (its fragility and its ferocity) does give me hope, for my kids and for us as a society. (When I get real dramatic I extrapolate all the way out to humankind as a whole.) 

We impart pain, we receive it, we recover. We hurt and we heal. Hopefully, we learn at least something from the process. 

It’s been seven days since my last surgery, and I’m still spending a lot of time in bed, despite a (growing) list of work to do, an impending move to another country, and a house that is just begging to be cleaned. It took six surgeries, but I now know that rest is important--indeed, necessary--for our fragile bodies to recover their strength. 

Add that to my list of lessons learned.

[50yearoldteenager]

The story so far...

So since November 2017, I've been feeling like a teenager again. Not in a zombie apocalypse kind of way, or looking forward to the next party... Hell no! My memory is so bad I couldn't even organise my own surprise party 🎉 No, it's the damn raging hormones, mood swings and, worst of all... bursting into tears and getting upset at T.H.E. slightest thing.

I'm usually such a laid back and easy going person, but like a teenager, I feel like everyone is against me and if they're not against me then I've clearly managed to piss everyone off and everyone hates me. This all stresses me out and my body feels like a tightly sprung coil ready to release on some poor unsuspecting person who just happens to look at me the wrong way or say the wrong thing to me at the wrong time, in the wrong place. So for the sake of whoever I might end up murdering (metorphorically speaking of course!), I thought the responsible thing to do would be to go get myself sorted out... And go see the doctor!

So two to three weeks ago I made that appointment and last Thursday I'm on my way, and my mood is lifted a little believing I'm finally going to get sorted out and able to start living my life again. Firstly, as I check-in at the screen as I walk through the door I see I'm booked in with the doctor I'm registered with and NOT the lovely Dr I've asked to see.... I'm told she left a few months ago... I can't cope with this and I say to the receptionist I can't see the one I'm booked in with. I've had bad experiences with her so the receptionist goes off to try and see what she can do. She's lovely and whilst she's sorting that out, 'said' doctor comes out and calls me in. In hindsight I feel bad for telling her publicly I didn't want to see her and I'm not seeing her! She looks a bit shocked as if she doesn't know what she's done wrong but the damage is done now.

I'm back an hour later to see a different doctor but when I tell him my woes I feel that sinking feeling when he asks me what I want him to do about it... Ffs I just want to be told, directly, what is available when taking into account my medical bloody history after all he's the fricking doctor! I try reasoning with him that I struggle with the making of hospital appointments as you now have to wait for two letters, one with a password and one with your login details before getting some appointment. I seriously can't deal with it. It stresses me out having to think. I tell him if I'm given an appointment I'll turn up hoping he'll see I can't cope with decision making so prescribe what he believes in his professional opinion is best for me. So I have blood tests after he's faffed about. Two lots six weeks apart to see if I'm definitely going through the menopause which to be fair I expected. It didn't help that it was a male doctor but far worse my 13yr old son looked older than him. Nice lad but really doesn't have the experience needed to deal with somebody like me. There's still two hospital appointments I won't have because of the hassle and stress just having to fire up the computer to complete all the security questions before I even get to where I need to be.

I come out wondering why I even bother, I've told him I ache, I sleep constantly along with loads of other stuff and if I didn't feel like life was passing me by I'd be OK but no... I'm still banging my head against a brick wall! Doctors just want you to pop pills. I want to do so much for myself but my body stops me. I feel useless. I feel helpless!

As I head out along the road I toy with the idea of going straight home rather than go shopping at the supermarket I work at. I AM STRONG so I decide everyone will be busy, too busy to notice me if I slink in, WRONG...

I'm crossing the road and I've seen a girl I am quite close to being dropped off. I figure if I keep walking she won't notice me... I'm WRONG again... She calls out my name and I pretend not to hear, but like I say, we are quite close so when she calls again I can't ignore her, I wouldn't want her to think badly of me. I try to smile and she asks if I'm OK and that's it I'm a wreck... I can't even talk to lie to her that I'm OK, and then I crumble. I decide I can't go in to do my shopping but she persuades me... And she links arms with me to show support. She carries on in, I've made her late but she's more bothered about me, I'm touched! I quickly get what I need and everyone I want to avoid (the team I work with are like a little family unit) is there. I go to the self service and my boss who I'm so very fond of is covering. I try to avoid eye contact and I think I've done OK, then the detagger is playing up so I help him. Now I know he's going to know something is wrong because I've always got time for him and I practically blank him. He's busy so I hope I've gotten away with it.

I get home and my daughter who I'm so very close to calls. She makes a comment when I tell her I'm fed up having no money. She makes it sound like she's going through the same as me and when I say she's not she bites my head off. She's got a lot going on but she's so wrapped up with her lifestyle, and keeping my two allergy ridden bits alive, it's all about her and just for once it would have been nice for her not to have made it about her. I worry if I'll be able to pay the rent ghe following month, she doesn't have those sorts of money worries. They'll just borrow from their savings, a luxury I've long forgotten what it was like to have.

We end our call. I'm tired and go back to bed. She's called a couple of times, then she calls my mum. My mum does NOT need anything else to worry about. She fractured her right arm at Christmas then a month later she fell on a slippery surface outside a supermarket and broke her other arm. I'm 300 miles away from her and that stresses me out too. I can't afford to even hop on a train to see her while I'm off this week

So work is my saviour but then I see my boss who stops me and says my friend is concerned about me. I know they will have discussed her seeing me so distraught and he's very intuitive, I've a really good relationship with him, he knows when I'm hiding shit from him so now I know he's concerned to. But I can't talk at work as I don't want to end up balling my eyes out again so I think he feels hurt because he thinks I don't want his help. My first hour, especially after that, is hard, but I manage to muster up a few smiles. By the end of the evening I'm feeling like I've done well. Nobody suspects a thing. So long as nobody asks me if I'm OK I cope well.

So it's Saturday and I sleep in till gone 10am. My daughter hasn't called all morning. She's normally called by 9am but today she doesn't call till about 4pm. So I spend the morning feeling down. I'm holding it together and I feel ready for my shopping trip with my 13yr old son who's cooking dinner tonight. I feel really anxious as we head off and the anxiety gets worse as we go about our business. I'm scanning the area so I can avoid people, the people who I love working with. I spot my boss, but I'm already turning so I may have got away with it. It's kinda going OK but it's quite busy and I don't want to be in store any longer than necessary. My boy heads us over to self service and I feel my stomach begin to churn... My lovely lovely friend is supervising there. Luckily its busy and I'm thankful but standing in the queue feels like forever. We're next, as we wait he asks that question I don't want to be asked... "are you OK?" Again I think I've hidden that I'm not and gotten away with it when he says, I saw you around the corner with 'X' and was gonna stop but thought twice, for my sake. He's been through dark times too... I begin to crumble and admit I'm not good. He repeats my own words I've said to him back to me. I know he's right. It's my turn and I go to the free pay point. He's so lovely. I love him with all my heart. He hugs me and I hold back tears... As best I can anyway. My son then realises I'm still not good. He picked me up when I was down in Wednesday. As we leave another colleague (or rather ex-colleague) turns up and I remember I was meant to have met up with her today. Again, I can't talk so I motion to call me... Which she did so later but I missed the call. I'd thought it was someone else so ignored it. I find it hard to talk to people just now so I switched my phone to do not disturb.

So that is the story so far... I can't go on like this. Doctors, as you've seen, are of no help to me so I'm going to try and sort myself out and hopefully, in the end, this blog may help people get out of their own version of anxiety, stress or depression.

So my plan is to live my life by a tick list. I'm a single parent (that is a completely other story) and I feel very alone. It feels like I have no purpose. My boy doesn't really want to be around his mother so my tick list gives me a purpose. More about that another time

Goodnight xxx

[justanoutlawfic]

We Are One: A Scrabble Future Shot

Plot: A game of Scrabble changed their lives forever. Now they're happily married with their large family. What happened after happily ever after?

A/N: I just can't let go of this verse, so I will take prompts for future fics. This one focuses on them welcoming the last members to their family. If you have any prompts, just let me know. :)

Also on AO3

Mary Margaret had only had one pregnancy scare in all of her life, long before she had even planned out her family. Ever since Emma, her period had been off, but she knew when to expect it. Things with two kids had been so great that when Neal was only 6 months old, they had tried for baby number three and conceived right away, having Charles James or Charlie as he was almost immediately nicknamed by everyone. People called them crazy and occasionally they felt it with three kids under four. Yet, they wouldn’t change a thing. Charlie showed to be relaxed, a lot like Neal when he reached his first birthday. Though, both boys managed to keep up with their rambunctious sister.

 Two years later, Mary Margaret got hit by that baby fever once again and it didn’t take much arm twisting on David’s part. Emma was off at kindergarten, Neal at preschool. Leopold had just passed away, leaving the family an unexpected inheritance. (As it turned out, he had never bothered to change his will after Mary Margaret cut him off.) They put most of it into savings, knowing that they would need to put four kids through college at some point. Yet, they used a part of it to make sure that they’d be okay to have a fourth child.

 Finn Cole came 9 months later, right on his due date. They thought Emma had been a handful, but he seemed to have twice his sister’s energy and was constantly getting into trouble. Even so, they loved him to bits, just as much as they did their other children. Mary Margaret got the job as vice principal at the combined middle and high school, David’s farm was doing quite well. Their older kids were growing by the minute and they felt pretty complete. They decided that four was their magic number.

 Then 7 years later, Mary Margaret felt sick and she wasn’t sure why. She hadn’t eaten anything out of the ordinary and there was no bug going around their household. (A rarity in the winter with 4 kids, on top of Mary Margaret’s job where she was constantly exposed to things.) Luckily, it was the weekend, so she could relax a bit without having to worry about her work responsibilities on top of motherhood.

 Her late period was the next concern. Ever since Finn, it had gone back to its usual cycle, two months on, two months off. She wondered if it was possible that she was going through early menopause. It wasn’t as if she knew her family’s medical history all too well, but it wouldn’t surprise her. She was all set to make an appointment with the gyno, until her mind flashed to another reason why she could be late.

 Date nights were a rarity for her and David, ones out of the house that was. Yet, 2 months prior, Emma and Neal had gone to sleepovers, and Regina offered to take Finn and Charlie for one as well. So, it had just been them. They went to the fancy Italian restaurant in town, ordered really nice wine and when they got back to the house, enjoyed being able to have sex without a kid running in needing something.

 She had to take out her implant due to a recall and hadn’t yet bothered to get another. She could vaguely remember David questioning about a condom, but she had shrugged it off.

 “Crap,” she whispered to herself.

 A quick trip to the pharmacy and three pregnancy tests later and it was confirmed: Mary Margaret was pregnant for the fifth time…at 42 years old.

 She looked into all of the things that could go wrong. There were conditions the baby could have, things that could go wrong with Mary Margaret herself. How could she have been so careless? It was one thing when she was 27 and it was just her…but she had four kids, a husband. A large part of her was so happy at a chance to get to raise another child, but a smaller part was filled with fear.

 The first thing she knew she had to do was tell David. She waited until all the kids had gone to bed and sat him down to show him the tests. He looked as if he had been knocked over with a feather, then said the first thing that came to mind.

 “And we just sold the last of Finn’s baby stuff.”

Mary Margaret gave him a weary look. “What?”

“We just gave the last of Finn’s baby clothes to Bae and Isabella’s baby,” he said. “I guess we’ll have to buy new stuff now.”

“That’s seriously where your mind goes?”

“I just like to be prepared.”

“David…I’m scared.”

“Why? We’ve done this before.”

“Yes, but I was a lot younger than.” She swallowed. “What if something goes wrong?”

“Hey.” He took her hand. “You can’t think like that. You’re not old, you’re only 42. Plenty of women have a baby at that age. Heck, look at Gold. He was 48 when Gideon was born.”

“That’s different. He didn’t have to carry the baby. Belle was what…28? We knew she and Gideon would be okay.”

“It’s going to be okay, I promise you.”

She slowly nodded, wanting to believe it more than anything. “I don’t want to tell the kids, not until we’ve reached the second trimester. I mean…I’m pretty sure we’re close to that anyway.”

David chuckled, realizing when the baby had to be conceived. “Our one kid free night lead to baby number five.”

“Oh the irony,” Mary Margaret said, smiling for the first time since she took the test, kissing him.

 As it turned out, the pregnancy was the least of their surprises. A few tests and an ultrasound revealed one more surprise: Mary Margaret was carrying identical twins. They ran on David’s side of the family, but given that it had never come up with their other pregnancies, they assumed the gene had skipped them.

 The doctor went over the risks of the pregnancy, it was definitely high risk and she’d have to go on bed rest at some point. That didn’t help calm Mary Margaret’s nerves, but David once again assured her that things would be okay.

 Four weeks later, they sat the kids down to share the big news.

 “I’m pregnant,” she said. “With twins.”

Neal raised an eyebrow. “Won’t you be like…the oldest mom in the world?”

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes. “Believe it or not, no. I am only 42, you know.”

Emma tilted her head. “I thought after Finn…you said you didn’t want any more.”

“Well…sometimes these things happen. We’re very excited.”

“So…I’m getting two baby brothers?” Finn asked, hopefully.

Mary Margaret chuckled. “We don’t know about that, they could be girls.”

“Please.” Charlie rolled his eyes. “Emma’s the only girl in this family.”

“So, does this mean we have all your support?” David asked. “Mom’s going to be okay, but this pregnancy means she’ll have to rest a bit. That means I’m going to need you guys to help out more around the house. We need to really pitch in so things stay the same.”

“We definitely can,” Neal promised. “Whatever we can to help Mom.”

 Mary Margaret grinned and looked at all of her kids. Finn and Charlie seemed on board, but when she reached her eldest child, she saw a different look on Emma’s face. It wasn’t anger or disdain, but…she didn’t seem happy.

 “Emma,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’ll help however you need. Can I go now?”

“Sure.”

 Emma avoided her mother for 2 weeks. She did her part around the house and even went out of her way to walk Finn home. Every time Mary Margaret tried to sit down with her, she was busy with something else. David saw the stress it was putting on both of them and knew something had to change. Emma was close to both her parents, but normally it was him to get things out of her.

 One night after mostly everyone else had gone to bed, he found Emma up in her room, reading. He lightly knocked on the open door and smiled a bit.

 “Hey kiddo, want to take a walk?”

Emma glanced at her clock. “It’s 10.”

“Ice cream then? I just got a new pint of rocky road,” he bartered, knowing her favorite.

 She looked hesitant, but couldn’t resist her sweet tooth. Putting the book down, she followed him downstairs and they settled down in the kitchen. David got himself some chocolate, while scooping out some rocky road for Emma. She dug in, ignoring his worried glance.

 “You wanna tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

“Emma, I know you. Is it the babies? I won’t lie, Mom and I are going to be busy when they get here, but nothing will change how much we love you.”

“This isn’t my first baby brother,” she said with an eye roll. “I know how it works.”

“Could be baby sisters,” he reminded her. “If that’s not it, then what?”

“It’s just…Mom’s going on bed rest soon and I…I did some research.” She chewed on her lip. “Her pregnancy is high risk. What if something happens to her?”

“Oh, kiddo.” He moved closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

“You have to say that.”

“No, I don’t.” He sighed. “The truth is, I’m scared too.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, I’ve been scared each time your mom has been pregnant.”

“You don’t get scared.”

He chuckled. “I do, especially when it comes to the people I love. However, I do know your mom. She’s a fighter, she’s going to do all she can to make sure that she won’t leave us.”

“But what if she does?”

 David stared down into her eyes and realized how much of a kid Emma still was. She was nearly 14 and tried to pretend like she was big and bad, not needing anyone’s help. Yet, the truth was, she was still a little kid. One who needed her parents, both of them, no matter what.

 “If anything, God forbid, happened to your mom, we’d be okay,” he whispered. The thought scared the hell out of him, but he knew he had to talk about it for Emma’s sake.

“I can’t lose her, Daddy,” Emma whispered. “I love her so much. I know I don’t act like it sometimes…”

“She knows, we both do.”

“There’s just still so much I need her for.”

“Which is why she’s not going anywhere.”

“She could. Your mom did.”

That comment felt like a sword to David’s heart. “Oh, Emma. It’s not like my mom. I know you’re scared and maybe there’s not much I can say to ease that right now, but I do know that pushing Mommy away won’t help.”

Emma sighed, picking at her ice cream. “I just thought it’d make things easier.”

“But has it?”

“…No.”

“Just be there for her, kiddo. You can tell her you’re scared, she can handle it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

 The next day, David came home from picking up Finn from karate and found Emma curled up into her mother’s side, practically clinging to her. Both girls were asleep, tissues around them. He smiled a bit, knowing that they had worked things out. Deep down, he knew that everything would be okay, they just had to give it time.

 They busied themselves over the next few months to keep their minds off it. Emma and Charlie helped develop the nursery while Neal read practically every book on the subject. Finn helped in his own way, drawing pictures for his mom and going to talk to her every day when he got home from school when went on bed rest during the 5th month mark. Throughout it all, the kids were determined that they’d be getting two baby brothers.

 Mary Margaret’s pregnancy was going well and for a bit, they really thought that maybe things would go according to plan.

 Then when she was exactly 28 weeks, she woke up to bleeding. David rushed her to the hospital and within two hours, she was being wheeled off to surgery. The babies were doing fine, but to keep them that way, they had to be delivered right away. David may have been terrified with every other birth, but this scared him even more.

 The kids had already gone off to school when it happened and they knew something was wrong when their aunt Regina pulled up to take them home. She told them that their mother was fine, she was healing just fine.

 “And the babies?” Emma asked.

Regina bit her lip. “Your sisters are stable, in the NICU.”

Charlie didn’t even seem to be phased that he had been wrong all that time. “Can we see them?”

“Not right now, soon, though.”

“Are they going to be okay?”

“Yes, it’s just going to be a long road.”

 David spent the next few days split between making sure that Mary Margaret was okay and checking on the kids. They all wanted to visit their mom, but the doctors felt that she needed to rest some more. He didn’t feel like he could breathe, until on the day that Mary Margaret was to be released, they felt that the babies were stable enough to be held and have more visitors.

 Mary Margaret didn’t even mind the pain as her older kids gave her big hugs, holding onto Emma’s hand even when she pulled away. They headed down to the NICU, where she had been able to see her babies as much as she wanted. Emma, Neal, Charlie and Finn stood back in awe, watching as their parents got to hold the twins for the first time.

 “They’re perfect,” Mary Margaret whispered. “Just like the rest of you.”

“They’re so tiny,” Finn said, crowding next to David. “Was I this tiny?”

He chuckled. “No. Emma was pretty close, though. They were two pounds, Emma was four.”

“Seems like it’s our girls that are stubborn and come early,” Neal teased, nudging his big sister in the ribs.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Do you guys have names for them?”

“We do. We always like our names to mean something.” Mary Margaret smiled up at all of her children. “I chose Genevieve, because she was the patron saint that protected Paris.”

“And I picked Hannah,” David said. “I really liked the name Grace, but we already know someone with that name, so I picked a name that means that.”

“Genevieve and Hannah,” Emma said with a grin. “Pretty.”

“Nothing too stuffy like Charles,” Charlie quipped with a smirk.

Mary Margaret giggled, shaking her head. “The middle names mean something too. Genevieve’s is Rose, which was my mother’s middle name. We would’ve gone with Eva, but that was just too close to Emma.”

“And Hannah’s is Rachel, which means female sheep.”

“You named my baby sister after a sheep?” Charlie asked

“We breed them on our farm, they’ve always been a big part of our lives.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s so weird, but oddly very our family.”

 Genevieve Rose and Hannah Rachel Nolan were able to come home one month later, surpassing what anyone else thought. Their lives were suddenly ten times more hectic, between the newborns, chauffeuring their other kids around to school and extracurriculars. They all took it in stride, though. It was a new challenge, one they wouldn’t change for the world. They thought they had felt whole after Finn, but now their hearts were completely and totally full.

 (Which was why shortly after the twins’ first birthday, Mary Margaret got her tubes tied…but that’s another story for another day.)

#scrabble verse #charming family #charming family au #snowing #snowing au #daddy charming #daddy charming au #mama snow #mama snow au #young emma swan #teenage emma swan

[dietsauthority]

Diary of a hip replacement: week 1

The countdown to my hip replacement

My ideal leg that has actually had actually the hip replaced is my stronger leg and taking a great deal of the stress, as is my back. In my evaluation, the specialist creates in the notes sent out to my GP and also myself that there is a 3cm distinction in leg size. No surprise my back is harming. He keeps in mind that the un-operated leg is 'perished'.

Walking any kind of range causes substantial pain in my lower and also center back, so before the op I am doing 10 swimming pool sizes at the local recreation centre as well as a series of workouts to maintain myself mobile. I could put it off no more. I should get this hip replaced to even up the disparity in height and to reduce the pain.

At my pre-assessment a week prior to the surgery, a nurse takes my high blood pressure, asks me a series of concerns regarding my way of living, weighs as well as gauges me, takes pee as well as blood examinations, and offers me an ECG heart test.

Coping with anxiety before my hip substitute operation

But probably my most significant concern regarding the hip procedure was going under basic anaesthetic. I have no idea why. I have had lots of hip ops over the years - 7 major operations before the age of six. Some surgery in my twenties then, in 2000, the right hip replaced.

I had never even thought of the general anaesthetic prior to, but this time, it is a significant problem that towers above me. I am 54, not 24 or 14 or 4. Would I make it through the anaesthetic?

I know it sounds absurd, yet it was definitely actual for me for about a fortnight prior to the day. Ultimately I located the ideal means to deal with this irrational fear (I am menopausal) was to deep take a breath whenever the stress and anxiety hit as well as keep active, disturbance being a coping method. That's why I went swimming the night prior to the procedure, because it soothed me down.

When I did fulfill the anaesthetist, I stated to him, 'I am extremely nervous'. 'Of course, you are' he responded. And naturally, the op was mosting likely to happen. Exactly how else was I to be knocked out? With a Roger Rabbit- style animation mallet as well as chirruping cartoon bluebirds circling around over me?

Day 1: the day of my hip replacement operation

A week later on I go to the hospital where I fulfill the expert and also the anaesthetist.

The anaesthetist informs me that I will certainly have an overall basic anaesthetic, asks me if I have any type of loosened or incorrect teeth as well as asks me to move my neck from entrusted to right.

The time has actually come. After not consuming or consuming alcohol from twelve o'clock at night I am asked to place on a gown and also some paper pants. They are prepared for me.

Wheeled to operating theatre, the anaesthetist asks me what I provide for a work (15 years ago it was a '10, 9, 8 ...' countdown), while inserting a cannula right into my hand, as he infuses a solution we bid farewell to each various other and ...

I am woken up by a man stating my name and also telling me that it is around. I have actually felt nothing in all and had no aware knowledge of anything being done to me, or memory, I am impressed and soothed.

I am pressed back as much as my room I am lifted from the trolley to the bed. The specialist enters into the space as well as tells me that my hip was really tight, and that I hemorrhaged a great deal and also have a drainpipe with a container of blood connected to me. The nursing team take my blood stress frequently and also give me an anti-sickness medicine into the cannula in my hand.

The opening night passes, I need to request for a bed pan twice. The staff check on me consistently. I am linked to a set of electric 'socks' that pump as well as grind throughout the evening, as well as carry a set of limited knee-high elastic socks, both to avoid blood clots. I am also provided a shot right into the stomach.

Day 2: my post-hip-replacement physio begins

The adhering to early morning I fulfill the physiotherapist for the very first time and also given a strolling structure so I can rise to go the toilet.

I must rest on the bathroom as well as any type of chair carefully, placing my operated leg out directly. I must not go past a 45 degree knee-leg posture. When my right hip was changed in 2000, I was issued with an elevated seat to put into to the commode itself now the physio tells me that just stretching my operated leg out in front of me will certainly do the trick.

I should not flex over, or exist on my side, as there is a threat of placing the round as well as outlet out. I must not cross my legs. Gingerly, does it, I could stagnate anywhere quickly.

Pain alleviation is a box including morphine with a switch that I could press if I feel I need discomfort relief, I additionally have an oxygen nose pipe.

Later, I opt for my initial stroll with the physio therapist, out and also up as well as down the hallway outside, there is a bar along the wall like in a dancing college. I do some small bends as well as aim to lift the knee of the operated leg. This is tough as the leg still feels swollen and numb from the surgery.

Day 3: the physio encourages me to get out of bed

The physio comes back as well as we pace again and do some even more simple exercises, she speaks with me about waking the muscular tissues up, and also worries the value of obtaining the surrounding tissue relocating once again, also while the new joint is bed linens itself in my body. She also motivates me to get clothed as well as sit out in a chair instead of just maintain climbing back into bed. I admit that I really feel extremely tired in those initial two days as well as spend a great deal of time sleeping in and out of sleep.

Day 4: my morphine pump is removed as well as I practice fluctuating the stairs

The morphine pump is gotten rid of in addition to the oxygen mask makings me cost-free to move around. Two registered nurses come as well as remove the drain that is inside my leg and also the bottle of blood that goes along with it. They inform me to take a deep breath as they draw the drain out, there is a small tugging experience. It is not unbearable.

I am secured by a physio as well as we do the stairways. One step each time: 'Great boost to heaven, poor leg to hell', which implies increasing the staircases you put your unoperated foot on the action first, on the descending trip your freshly run leg goes first. This is sluggish progress as you raise one leg then up with the crutches and also carry up the other one, pigeon design, 15 years back, you were not enabled to do stairs, today you are encouraged to be as mobile as possible.

Day 5: going home after the hip replacement

I'm going home today. A nurse evacuates my bag for me, I am not enabled to flex, and also takes me through the medicines I will certainly take home with me.

The pain alleviation now recommended is 2 paracetamol as well as 2 ibroprofen every 4 hours.

I proposal farewell to the team, who have actually been terrific, as well as my sibling drives me home, in the front guest seat. It is advised that you put a strong plastic bag on the seat, to make sure that you could pivot right into the seat without removaling the brand-new hip joint. It does really feel unusual sitting in the safety seat and I could really feel that something has actually happened in that hip joint.

Home finally (my birthday) but we keep cake and candle lights to a minimum. I need to work out the staircases as well as do my exercises, some standing up holding into a strong chair, as well as some resting in bed, each set needs to be done 4 times a day.

You must sleep on your back, handing over might cause the hip joint to dislodge, not a great situation as you would definitely discover yourself back in hospital.

I am delighted to be home without the noises of the active ward, and also calm down right into my brand-new regimen. I am using two elbow joint assistance props, some medical facilities allow you entrust to walking sticks, it depends from hospital depend healthcare facility trust.

Day 6: sleeping on my back and doing the bed and standing exercises

After an evening obtaining utilized to resting only on my back, in my bed at residence, I rise with aid from my partner, I have little cravings and have the ability to take care of some fruit as well as among those little yoghurt drinks.

We choose that I would certainly do both the bed as well as the standing works out four times a day, with an established day-to-day timetable, for these, though it tends to slip every now and then. The bed workouts contain Deep Breathing to begin, Ankle Pumps (increasing my feet and also doing foot 'circles'), Quadriceps and also Gluteal Contractions (elevating my knees and also calf bones, feet an inch or more and also holding it for 2 secs, Heel Slides (bending both knees no even more than 45 levels), and Hib Kidnappings relocating the operated leg out to the side as much a comfy). This exercise is the hardest and also I require my other half to relocate the leg as I discover it practically difficult to move it under my very own heavy steam.

Surprisingly, the standing exercises are a great deal easier. Hanging on throughout of the bedstead or dining room table or chair, I comply with a series of knee bends, unoperated-leg swings sideways and also to the back, hamstring curls, mini crouches as well as heel raises.

Day 7: obtaining used to moving the house after my hip replacement

I obtain utilized to walking around your home, slowly, I proceed my workouts. I consume hardly any, though it's thought that you could be prone to weight gain while in recovery, due to absence of activity. My little girl chefs a spaghetti dish in the evening which I take pleasure in, the very first dish I've actually enjoyed considering that the op.

I am taking medicines every 4 hours, and as I rise the staircases for the umpteenth time, I remind myself that my 80-year-old mom has in the last few years had both her knees replaced as well as managed it. If she could do it at 80, so can I. I am very worried, nevertheless, that the upper leg of my run leg has swollen to two times the dimension of the other one.

After 2 full days in your home, I appreciate the very straightforward 'precautions' around your home. We have hand grasps all over the house. These are so beneficial, as my crutches are up to the floor whatever I relax them versus. The developer of gravity defying crutches will succeed. I have my mobile phone in my clothing dress pocket when I'm around your home. I have to keep in mind to put on a jacket with pockets.

We have actually additionally gotten a second-hand, straight-backed wooden chair for me to sit in the living space. Low seat, soft pillow sofas and elbow chairs are a rigorous no for the following couple of weeks.

#7 day diet #diet

[bubblegumbi-tch]

GET TO KNOW ME!

I was tagged by the lovely @otsukaresope thank you!(and yes, I copied and pasted yours and changed my answers too)

Rules: Answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people. (lol you know i’m not tagging that many people)

THE LAST: 1. Drink: Mango Juice 2. Phone call: My dad 3. Text message: My dad again 4. Song you listened to: There Was A Rapper by Dizraeli & the Small Gods 5. Time you cried: looooord I have no idea, I cry all the time.. i think it was like two or three days ago..

HAVE YOU: 6. Dated someone twice: No 7. Kissed someone and regretted it: No 8. Been cheated on: Not that I know of 9. Lost someone special: Hasn’t everyone? 10. Been depressed: I guess 11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Yes, only once, I learned my lesson.

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS: 12. Blue or any variation on it 13. Yellow/Orange 14. Very dark pink/red/purple kinda colour if you know what I mean

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. Made new friends: Yes, surprisingly 16. Fallen out of love: lol i’ve never even been IN love 17. Laughed until you cried: Probably yeah, i used to do it a lot more than i do now though sadly 18. Found out someone was talking about you: I found out a guy wouldn’t shut up about me because he liked me if that counts.. 19. Met someone who changed you: I don’t think so, no 20. Found out who your friends are: I already knew who my friends are 21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Yes

GENERAL: 22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: All of them I’m pretty sure 23. Do you have any pets: Omg, yes! I have two cats, a dog, two budgies, a bearded dragon, a tortoise and two chickens! 24. Do you want to change your name: When I was little me and my best friend went through a phase of wanting to change our names, but of course we never did. 25. What did you do for your last Birthday: My family all came to see me and then my parents took me out for a meal in the evening. 26. What time did you wake up: Ugh 7am to pack up from camping and come home, it’s the earliest I’ve been up in ages! 27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Messaging my friends and trying to sleep. 28. Name something you can’t wait for: Hixtape of course and also to get my flipping uni accommodation confirmation so I can start planning my room! 29. When was the last time you saw your mom: About 30 seconds ago, she’s in the kitchen 30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: I wish I was more confident and sociable (I’m a lot better than I used to be but it’s still something I’m working on!) 31. What are you listening to right now: Nothing, although I’ve been recently rediscovering Yoongi’s mixtape, specifically The Last... It’s making me emo af. 32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yeah I know of so many Tom’s 33. Something that is getting on your nerves: My menopausal mother (sorry mum) and my over helpful, dithering grandmother (put them both together like now and i want to take a long walk off a short pier)  34. Most visited website: I guess here or youtube

LOST QUESTIONS. I JUST PUT IN RANDOM INFO ABOUT ME 35. Mole/s: A few like flat big freckle ones but none that i would really call moles because they aren’t raised?? How do you even know what’s a mole and what isn’t? 36. Mark/s: oh man my knees are basically made of childhood scars, I also have a big scar on my arm from when i broke it, and various other tiny scars across my body, and a few bits of discolouration on my back from when i got sunburned really badly once 37. Chilhood dream: I wanted to be a vet 38. Hair color: My natural hair colour is like a light mousey brown, but at the moment it’s henna red 39. Long or short hair: uhh short i guess, it’s in a bob that’s grown out a lil 40. Do you have a crush on someone: Not really 41. What do you like about yourself: I like my long, naturally curled eyelashes, and that I am quite an accepting person (at least i like to think i am) 42. Piercings: One in each ear, and my nose 43. Blood type: I have no idea, i tried to find this out before i went to korea as they believe the blood type=personality traits thing, but it seems to be actually quite hard to find out if you don’t already know.. 44. Nickname: Meg, v occasionally Meggie or (if you’re my mother and trying to annoy me) Meggie Moo 45. Relationship status: Single 46. Zodiac: Aries 47. Pronouns: she/her 48. Favorite TV show: Gosh I don’t know anymore, I don’t watch as much tv as i used to. I recently finished binging Skins (uk) though because i never got into it when i was a teenager 49. Tattoos: No, but i would like to get one one day 50. Right or left hand: left handed! (fun fact a lady i used to work with told me this is a sign of the devil and looked at me reproachfully lol) 51. Surgery: No cosmetic surgery, but i broke my arm pretty badly when i was 9 and had to have two surgeries to fix it and i still have a numb section down my right arm to this day from nerve damage! 52. Hair dyed in different colors: I have only ever dyed it red/coppery either with henna or proper dye 53. Sport: man i am the least sporty person you will ever meet! I was pretty good a hockey in school though and i enjoyed tennis and badminton too. 54. There’s no question here so fun fact: I currently have diamond shaped sunburn patches all down my arms from a lace-up armed top i was wearing yesterday, i’m such a fool. 55. Vacation: I would literally love to go anywhere and everywhere in the world, but right now I’m kinda feeling either Hawai’i (blame bts) or Florida 56. Pair of trainers: Do converse count as trainers? Because I live in my converse.

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: Nothing Right now, but i need to go make myself some lunch.       58. Drinking: Again nothing, someone get me some tea!

59. I’m about to: Go say hi to my grandma who has just turned up, then maybe go over to my dad’s and watch game of thrones with him 60. No question here either so another fun fact: I have hypermobility in some of my limbs, just like Jin does (his wiggly fingers) so my knees bend backwards (i think Jin’s knees do this too actually), which freaks some people out! The downside is apparently it’s awful for my joints, I’m such an old lady! 61. Waiting for: My uni accommodation! 62. Want: So many things, love, money, a job, MY UNI ACCOMMODATION 63. Get married: Eh, maybe if the right person comes along, although i think it will be v different from a traditional type of wedding eg i hate how traditionally the bride is given from man to man and takes the husbands name, I would like to mash our names together to make a cool new name for us both... idk i guess i would just have a more feminist/egalitarian version of a marriage/wedding if i get married. 64. Career: Uuugh I don’t even have a job at the moment, and i doubt i will even when i finish my degree lol oh the hopelessness of adulthood

WHICH IS BETTER 65. Hugs or kisses: Hugs 66. Lips or eyes: Both?? I guess lips if i HAD to choose. 67. Shorter or taller: It doesn’t make a difference to me bc im short as hell anyway so anyone i date it always gonna be taller than me no matter how short they are... 68. Older or younger: i would prefer older but i guess so long as it’s not too much younger i wouldn’t mind so long as they are mentally mature enough. 69. No question here: Then you’re gonna get no answer. 70. Nice arms or nice stomach: nice arms i guess 71. Sensitive or loud: Sensitive 72. Hook up or relationship: Relationship preferably, but all i ever seem to get are hook-ups! 73. Troublemaker or hesitant:  I guess troublemaker so long as it’s not damaging

HAVE YOU EVER: 74. Kissed a stranger: Yes 75. Drank hard liquour: Yes 76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: I lost a pair of sunglasses recently.. 77. Turned someone down: Yes 78. Sex in the first date: I haven’t actually properly dated anyone in ages.. 79. Broken someone’s heart: Not that i know of 80. Had your heart broken: Yes, but not by a romantic partner, just a best friend, they can do that too unfortunately.. 81. Been arrested: No although apparently i once when i was 16 i got blackout drunk and started hammering on a police car door (with the policemen inside) and they had to get out and tell my friends to take me home or they would arrest me (im so goddamn embarrassed about that)  82. Cried when someone died: Of course, who doesn’t? 83. Fallen for a friend: No

DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. Yourself: i have nothing else to believe in so, YES 85. Miracles: I don’t think so 86. Love at first sight: Again, I don’t think so 87. Santa Claus: Of course, what are you saying?!?!?! 88. Kiss in the first date: Yeah why not if i like them enough 89. Angels: No

OTHER: 90. Current best friend’s name: I don’t think i have just one, but i guess my oldest friend and friends i se the most are Jenny and Hannah 91. Eyecolor: Green/blue/turquoise, it depends on the light (yes im THAT white girl, fight me it’s a thing) 92. Favorite movie: Ah man i couldn’t tell you i just don’t know sorry!

Tagging: @aw-yeah-jimin @grandpa-yoongi @sopehope @seoulsistersopi and i guess anyone else that wants to do it!

#you obvs dont have to do this if you dont want to guys! #also i messed up the formatting somewhere in the middle of this so it looks a bit of a mess lol

[macarthurmc]

A Doctor's Love Letter to Her Mirena IUD

Dr. T puts the “I” in IUD (and TMI)

I love my IUD. For all the skeptics, I thought I would share my personal experience with an intrauterine device and how it saved me from myself. Every day, I hear my patients say, “But I’ve read so many bad things about IUDs online” or “I know a friend of a friend who had a really bad experience with her IUD.” Don’t get me wrong... everything has its risks and benefits. There are genuinely people who have bad experiences with certain types of birth control, but keep in mind, that one size does not fit all. There are some people for whom certain types of birth control would be a terrible idea (like birth control pills in someone with a history of a stroke or blood clot in their lungs) and others for whom birth control could be life-saving (like birth control pills lower the risk of ovarian cancer in women with hereditary breast-ovarian cancer syndromes or preventing a surprise pregnancy in a woman who survived serious complications during childbirth). The internet is skewed. People need a place to vent when they have an ax to grind. Fewer people take the time to write a review when they are happy because they just keep living their lives. I have been guilty of NOT writing a good review for restaurants or nail salons or doctors that were fantastic because I just thought, “hmm, that was nice” and kept it moving. 

So now is the time to write my positive review since the internet is so full of bad ones

My IUD has changed my life. I have had horrible periods ever since I was 12. They were heavy. and painful. They lasted forever... ok, usually 10-14 days, but that is still basically needing some kind of flow patrol for half of the year, and that is a lot of wasted money on pads and tampons (this was back in the day before we had decent reusable menstrual cups available in the U.S. and before internet shopping was a thing. That is how old I am). Thank goodness a flannel shirt tied around the waist was fashionable in the 1990s (à la T.L.C. and grunge rock) because that was my Plan B for bleeding through my clothes (TMI yet?).  After I bled every day for almost a month straight, my mom finally took me to her OBGYN when I was 16. I left with a pack of iron pills for 1 month because I had lost enough blood to become anemic. That's it. No birth control hormones to regulate my cycles.  No recommendation that scheduling over-the-counter NSAIDs (non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs like naproxen and ibuprofen) 48 hours before the onset of my periods could prevent the cramps from getting so severe and reduce my menstrual blood loss by 30%. No solution to my nightmare periods. No one even told me that my "regular" 10-14 day periods were not normal. Even though she herself was a nurse, my loving mother (bless her heart) was one of those moms that believed that “hormones are bad for you” and “birth control pills will make your daughter have sex earlier” (which well-validated scientific studies have proven to be untrue). So I continued to have horrible periods and uncorrected anemia (because no one seemed to think that I needed a refill on iron pills when I continued to hemorrhage on the monthly).

Fast forward to when I am old enough to make my own medical decisions

Most people start with birth control pills because it is cheap, it is easy, and it’s the only kind of birth control/hormone you’ve ever heard about. Birth control pills made my periods much shorter (about 7 days), less painful, and less heavy (just in time for baggy clothes to go out of style).  Anyone with an unpredictable schedule knows that it is hard to take a pill at the same time every day, and when you take birth control pills inconsistently, you start to have irregular spotting and breakthrough bleeding. Medical school made it very clear that birth control pills were not going to cut it, so I switched to the Nuvaring, which lasts for a whole month at a time. The Nuvaring coordinated perfectly with my 4 week hospital rotations. This worked out pretty great when the Nuvaring was free with my insurance. Then about a year later, it was suddenly $50 a month with insurance, so back to the free birth control pills I went. Before the Affordable Healthcare Act (also known as Obama care), insurance companies were not required to cover at least one brand/version of each kind of birth control option. Back in the day, IUDs were also very expensive, and they used to say that you couldn’t/shouldn’t have an IUD if you have never given birth before. Now we know that restriction was nonsense. By the end of my third year in medical school, my periods were getting worse despite the birth control pills. I knew that my periods were going to interfere with my ability to do my job as a busy doctor. It's not like I can just say, “Ma’am, I know you’re trying to bring another human into this world but can you stop pushing for a couple minutes? I really need to go to the restroom because I'm bleeding through my super plus tampon and soaking through my pad." I was so desperate that I went to a local OBGyn asking about endometrial ablation (burning the lining of the uterus) or hysterectomy (complete surgical removal of the uterus). These are procedures which should be reserved for women who do not want to ever get pregnant afterwards. My periods were so bad that I did not care. I could be the physician that I have always wanted to be or I could maybe one day in the distant future find my soulmate and have my own baby... I made my choice, and the doctor sent me on my way with an endometrial ablation pamphlet and told me to call back when I was ready to schedule my procedure.  

Now that I am an OBGyn myself, I am absolutely appalled when I think back to that visit for many reasons:

Although endometrial ablation destroys most of the uterine lining, preventing a healthy normal pregnancy, it is not birth control.  An ectopic pregnancy (an abnormal type of pregnancy growing outside the uterus, most commonly in the fallopian tube) after an endometrial ablation can be life-threatening. The doctor  never mentioned that I would still need to be on some kind of birth control so that I would not get an ectopic pregnancy and maybe bleed to death.

Why would you permanently destroy any chance to have a baby in a 23 year old without kids before having a discussion with her about ALL the options?! The doctor  never mentioned that a hormonal IUD is FDA-approved to treat heavy periods in addition to decreasing pelvic pain and working almost as good as tubal ligation ("tying tubes") to prevent pregnancy. 

Good thing I chickened out and never went back

I tried taking my birth control pills in an extended cycle fashion (skipping the placebo pills to suppress my periods), but unfortunately, I was not one of the lucky ones for whom that worked well.  Every 2-3 months, my periods still powered through the active pills. I just dealt with the breakthrough bleeding until intern year of my Obstetrics & Gynecology residency. One of my fellow residents walked out of the operating room with blood splashed over her lap. The nurse at the desk said, "Doctor, I don't think that is the patient's blood..." The resident looked down in horror. She was on her period and realized that she had bled through her pad and onto her scrubs while she was in surgery.  I was a little traumatized and didn't want that ever to be me. I scheduled my IUD appointment.   Most of my patients know the story from here. Since I have never had a vaginal delivery, my gynecologist gave me misoprostol (a medication to open my cervix) to make it easier to place the IUD.  I am a weeny when it comes to pain, so I pre-medicated myself with the maximum dose of Aleve and Tylenol. The insertion process was quick. It felt like a pap plus the worse period cramp I ever had, and then it was over in a few seconds. I cramped off and on for 3 weeks, alternating between Aleve and Tylenol as needed (most of my patients tell me they only cramped for a few days after IUD insertion). Because I knew that weird bleeding was expected for the next 3-6 months while my body was adjusting to the IUD, I kept taking my birth control pills for 6 months to suppress my periods. IUD hormones are so low dose and mostly stay locally at the level of the uterus, so my body only really registered that I was taking the birth control pills. Since then, I have not had a full period. I had some spotting for the first year or two, but now I have not had a drop of blood going on 8 years (I replaced my old IUD after 5 years). It has been glorious. I'll still get a day of cramps now and then when I am ovulating, but it is nothing that cannot be handled by one over-the-counter pain pill. 

So thank you, 52 mg levonorgestrel intrauterine device. This is my love letter to you

For so many women, a bad period can be a pain in your A and your V. I have actually felt your pain. Before going straight to surgery, why not consider a hormonal IUD? I can set it [the IUD] so you can forget it [your period]. I not only recommend the levonorgestrel intrauterine device as a doctor, but as a patient. I trust it enough to put it into my own body (twice so far), and it hasn’t failed me yet. My mantra is going to be "Mirena until Menopause" (and probably even after that for endometrial protection when I start estrogen therapy for my hot flashes... but that will be another story for later).    By: Dr. Stacey Thomas

#MacArthur Medical Center

[temenosjournal]

Progressing through these posts, one by one, with a little trepidation, and reading each only maybe twice through, first to read and then again to fix the most garish mistakes and not touch them again, after adding my two cents, or a dollar’s worth. 

Of these days of early spring I do recall but hazily, as consumed was my mind on that leaving of a friend. Even now, writing this, I have tears threatening to burst through, wandering in my mind and tripping over those many smiles and belly laughs and deep meandering conversations we had, of Sofie farts, and a person who asked me only to be this me, gave me the courage to be this me, and for that I am grateful. 

photos from March 9th, 2018

I admit the last few days I have stumbled over how to describe this sorrow I feel at D3 not being just right around the corner, the loss of wood shavings over everything you had on if ever you graced the inner sanctum of his world, his workshop, of Sof, and frosty mugs of beer and the sound of vinyl on his old record player, the loss of things that I miss, and profoundly, surprisingly, deeply. 

This post is I guess about routines, and that bog standard stuff, but it is as much a post about what I couldn’t say, what did I say, or post, instead? Well, let us see – BEFORE: just Rose and I, and AFTER: Making Space For Better Things – em, I really didn’t know till I just took a  look. 

Which, from a certain angle, was actually what I needed, more and less, to make space for better things, different things, and that I got.

You can become too reliant, on people, places, things. I know they are important, yet I am an introvert and people are not often my cuppa, well, and that I’ve always believed that who you truly are is who you would be if everything you had was taken from you, and I have always asked myself that, and made my choices on the answers, or made my changes. As an introvert one can be prone to solitude becoming lonely, space becoming emptiness, and quiet becomes voiceless.

Routines, yes, I suppose they order the mind, and mine can be rather cluttered and too focused on details, and not enough BIG picture. They give us space for our grief, our joy, our good things, our bad things, our loves and lives and little bits and bobs we revere, or fear, and force us to not carry unnecessary gear. With D3 gone I have had to change, and I guess this post is about that, the beginning of, and the acknowledgement, kind of a pause to look around, if only a short pause.

You know, I’m thinking as well that my early mornings probably started 6 years ago when Tim was dying, in those last months, it was that time I needed to watch the dawn rise, in quiet, coffee in hand, writing in my journal of the days before, or just watching the world out that Cottage window out to the lake and the trees beyond, wondering what was to come, before the nurse, or the social worker, or the appointment to go to, or the hospital, and as the days grew nye to his last, to wait, to care, to stand behind him as he shaved his face, holding him up.

My time, even now, still, I awoke this morning at 5 AM. Oh, routines, they have saved me. And now, a pause, a look around. Which reminds me, I need to listen to the radio more (note to self). So this post isn’t about D3, but that was on my mind and is this morning, but I know what happens next, maybe I’m stalling. 

From March 17th, 2018

You know, I’ve been getting up way too early of late. Most mornings well before the dawn cracks, regardless of when I went to bed.

Call it age, menopause, or perhaps the dog, as it would appear our bladders are on the same pee schedule. Unfortunately, her needs require me to actually wake up and wear pants for. So, well, then I am up. So she starts bouncing at the door, back and forth, and I can hear the whining coming through the open door, so I let her in. Well, at this point I am well and surely up.

Almost some mornings, or, er, nights, it is like I do not want to miss anything, and my body is up before my mind, and when my mind awakes it takes me back to exactly where I left off the night before. Well, unless I was drunk, and then I beg it for mercy.

Given that on occasion throughout the week, I work at 6AM, my body is all like well what!! I thought you liked getting up at this time” ?

So, yeah, I’m up. So what do I do? I watch stupid video’s, scroll through Facebook, looking at the same shite I saw just the night before, generally 6 hours before, as that seems to be the magic number, 6. Six hours of sleep is what my body has determined is optimum, that or 3:30AM, whichever comes first. Seriously, when I work the late shift to 9PM the night before, I am doomed the next day to awake at that magic hour of 3:33. All the time.

Course, if I think back, I recall Grandma mentioning this, how her ageing internal clock began to wake her earlier and earlier, finally having to put her foot down at 5AM, just in time for the CBC Radio News, whilst having her ritual bowl of Oatmeal.

Mornings with Grandma where Peter Gzowski in the morning, listening to his voice, which I can almost hear still, a murmuring away in the background, talking about things I didn’t understand, but that Grandma found engaging, and would sometimes include me in, like making a statement to me, this child, treating me as if I were older, an equal. It was glorious.

Late 1970’s, Grandma & Lexi

Now, call me a liar, what I do? Just re-read this post, and it had me thinkin’. You know, maybe why D3 comes to mind as he sometimes reminds me of grandma, little weird, with a circle of close and dear friends, always listening to the CBC, eclectic music tastes, independent-minded, and those are qualities of both I miss, I cherish, I admire, of ‘cobwebs in your corners not your mind‘ kind of person.

The 21st: Before The Dawn Of Simplicity Progressing through these posts, one by one, with a little trepidation, and reading each only maybe twice through, first to read and then again to fix the most garish mistakes and not touch them again, after adding my two cents, or a dollar's worth. 

#NaBloPoMo2018 #NanoPoblano2018 #teamtinypeppers #a carpenter&039;s workshop #D3 #GrandmaD