#anti maskers got very comfortable. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chaos-and-cookies · 3 years

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Omg... It really does sound like the circle of life. Love crystals....

There's different types of massages and you should've let ur bf massage and work on ur body but letting him know where and how to massage you, (fingers, palms, grips, presses, circulations etc). Massages are VERY complicated and tbh, and it keep my bf a while to pick it up... Now I sometimes have my kids step on my back once in a while 😂 lol

Also days like these, maybe he felt comfortable enough to just knock out around you. It's only the first month and I'm tired of it already. This year is already exhausting...

I really do hope the meds do kick in and you feel better. Definitely salt bathes.

I've tried... sometimes he even tries to give massages without any oil like that's gonna feel comfortable in anyway and have to tell him to stop go get the oils 😬 I've tried to tell him to stop doing certain things but he always ends up doing them again.... I even tagged him in a buzzfeed video for couples massages I saw in fb but I dont think he actually watched it 😭 and when even the smallest of things can set off my pain to be way worse I wasn't gonna let him try to learn now. I keep hoping he would learn from how I massage him but he doesn't and just continues to do things like press on my spine and squeeze the place where I'm hurt 😣 I wish my dog was still here, sometimes I would get him to stand or lay down on my back. Can't believe its about to be the 1yr anniversary of his death too 😞

Oh he's more than comfortable to just sleep wherever in my house I'm just concerned why he slept pretty much all day. I get taking a nap but this was all thru the afternoon/evening. He slept more than me! I kinda wanna ask if he sleeps better here than he does at his home because he almost always takes a nap when he's here.

Yeah this year is just gonna be the aftermath/consequences of last year tbh, I didn't have much hope for it knowing that white ppl anti maskers/vaxxers don't understand the concept of having consequences for their actions and this year is definitely gonna be full of it after ignoring them all last year. I just hope things get even a little bit better by the time spring/summer comes i just wanna be able to enjoy the warm weather again, I think I went outside maybe a handful of times last spring/summer and was always surprised when it was warm cuz I forgot winter ended 😶 I think the only date we had was a picnic when cases had went down and that was it for the whole summer. I'm so over it all and all these shitty ppls selfishness. If they had just made a law with like a $5k fine for not having ur mask on, and not having it on properly, things probably wouldn't have been nearly as bad as they've been. Like hell even Trinidad did that and they did pretty damn good during the pandemic all things considered.

I'm finally feeling a little bit better and tired after hours of waiting for these stupid pills to kick in luckily, thanks anon. I'll try to sleep soon. It's like.... 4:40am rn but I was sleeping on and off before Zahfi left at 2am so I at least got some kinda rest beforehand

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maren-as-an-adult · 3 years

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The 2020 Experience, Part 2

When I flew back to New York a few days later (yes, I braved the airports and a plane) I could not stop crying. What should have been a loving and heartfelt reunion between myself and Graham turned into an awkward situation for him, with me bent double in the front seat of his car sobbing inconsolably.

And suddenly I had to adjust back to life more or less on my own. I couldn’t have friends come over, my family who lived in NYC were too far for me to get to them without public transit, and Graham’s mother was immunocompromised so we couldn’t spend much time together. I was back to sitting at my computer, taking online surveys for the promise of money and sending out application after application. Jena and Julia, my other two roommates, were still not back, so it was just me and Polina.

Things started to get a little better though. I had applied for Medicaid so I had some health coverage again. I scheduled an appointment with my new doctor, I started talking to a therapist again in August, and I stopped budgeting for birth control and got it for free. The after school program was up and running again, this time remotely (only one of my schools was able to host their program though, so my work hours were still cut). I looked forward to every other weekend, where Graham would drive out and pick me up to spend a few nights at his place. Jena came back and announced she was moving out, and our new roommate Michelle moved in. Michelle and I had a lot in common, and I found it easy to talk to and connect with her.

I even got out to see my family. I braved the subway to see my family up in Astoria, and Polina told me about the ferries I could take that brought me to my family on the Upper East Side.

One day in late September, however, I woke up with abdominal pain. It was pretty mild at first, but it kept getting worse. As someone who has periods, I assumed it was just week-early cramps brought on by stress combined with a poor diet that didn’t include much fiber. I tried to assuage the feeling by eating an apple, but after a quick trip to the bathroom it made a reappearance coming back up the way it went down. I decided to do what most people do (and what doctors hate) and look up my symptoms online to try and self-diagnose. The two big contenders for what I was suffering from were IBS or an ulcer. I texted Graham and told him what was up, and he asked what I was going to do. My current plan was to try and wait it out, and if things still felt bad in the morning, I would go to the ER.

If it wasn’t for Graham’s suggestion that I go to an urgent care center (which I had completely forgot existed at this point in time) I may have died.

At 7:12pm I grabbed my bag and walked three blocks to the urgent care center closest to my apartment. Unfortunately, they were no longer taking walk-ins for the day, but told me that another urgent care center was open until 8 and would take walk-ins.

It was 17 blocks away.

I walked 17 blocks with severe abdominal pain to this urgent care center just to be seen and tell a health professional I wasn’t feeling well. I knew there wouldn’t be much they could do, but maybe they could give me a better idea of what was wrong with me. I called Graham and gave him the address of the urgent care center, asking that he come out to be with me. Whatever was happening to me, I did not want to go through it alone.

I made it to the urgent care center fifteen minutes before they closed. I was taken to an observation room where a brusque young Russian woman took down my vitals and information as we waited for the RN to come see me. When he finally did come in and I started telling him what was wrong, I barely finished explaining what happened after I ate and failed to keep down the apple that he interrupted me saying, “You need to go to the ER immediately, because what you described sounds like you have a GI bleed. You’ll need an endoscopy, where they take a camera on a long, thin tube and feed it down in through your stomach and into your intestines to see if you’re bleeding internally.”

It was getting late, I was alone, and I was TERRIFIED.

I was told where the nearest ERs were, was given a printed referral, and then dismissed for the evening. All I could do was wait for Graham and tell him what was going on... and then call my mother and tell her.

I love my mom. I’ll likely never not love my mom for the rest of my life. But sometimes she takes a bad situation and makes me feel even worse. When I told her I had called Graham to come get me, she pointedly asked why I didn’t call any of my family who lived closer than Graham. Well, of my family who live in the greater metropolitan area of New York City, we have:

- My Aunt Barbara and Uncle Danny, currently NOT in NYC and instead staying out in Milford, PA

- My Uncle Brian, Aunt Corinne, and cousin Nikki up in Astoria. My aunt cannot drive and gets panicked easily, my cousin only has her learner’s permit, and my uncle (though I love him) would not be the most comforting presence to me at the moment, being VERY pro-Trump Republican and a FIRM anti-masker

- My Uncle Mike, Aunt Gloria, and cousins Maura (and her husband Andrew), Brendan, and Kevin. Maura, at this point in time, was nine months pregnant and due to give birth any minute, and I was not going to be responsible for pulling my aunt or uncle away from the birth of their first grandchild

With this information presented to my mother, she did concede that calling Graham had not been a terrible idea. Continuing to fret, however, she said I should at least have called them to let them know what was happening. She took it upon herself to do that, and additionally call my father and tell him (dad was on the road at that point and so missed my initial call of “Hey, jsyk, I’m going to the ER, wish me luck!”). Graham pulled up, I ended my mom’s call telling her I’d keep her posted, and headed off to the unknown.

As we were driving to the closest ER, my dad called. Thankfully, he gave advice that calmed me down. He listened to my symptoms, told me it was likely an ulcer, and told me what would happen when I went in: I’d be admitted to the ER, they’d take my vitals, I’d explain my symptoms over and over and over to multiple people, they’d probably admit me overnight, knock me out and do an endoscopy, and in the morning I’d be sent home with a prescription to help with the ulcer. I felt better.

Graham and I made it to the ER at about 8:45pm. I was admitted immediately, my vitals were taken, I was given a cup to pee in, an IV was placed in my arm, my blood was taken, and I told my story to two different doctors and a few different nurses. I went in for an ultrasound to rule out pregnancy, endometriosis, and ovarian cysts. I waited, with Graham by my side.

The doctor came back at about 11:30pm and told me my urinalysis and ultrasound came back unremarkable, but my bloodwork showed a high white blood cell count, which meant my body was fighting off an infection somewhere. This is absolutely something I did and did not want to hear in the middle of a global pandemic. On the one hand, go immune system! Keep me safe, you beautiful, hard-working bitch! On the other hand, what was it my body was fighting off?

The doctor said if I wanted to leave at that point, I could, because nothing obvious was found. “But,” she said, “I would strongly recommend we do a CT scan just to be safe.”

It was late, both Graham and I were tired, and my abdominal pain wasn’t awful to the point where I was bent double anymore. I could stand and walk around with only a slight discomfort. The thought of getting out of the ER, a frankly dangerous place to be in these COVID times, was deliciously appealing.

“What the hell, lets do the CT scan.”

I was given almost two liters of fluid to drink to prep for the scan. It didn’t taste bad, actually, kind of like a flat lemon La Croix that had been left in its aluminum can too long. At 12:30am I went in for the scan. Two hours later, Graham and I were still waiting for the results. At around 2:30am Graham turned to me and said, “Honestly, I’m ready to go. I won’t leave you here alone, but I’m exhausted and ready to get out of here.” I responded, “Honestly, I am too.”

At that moment, a doctor walked around the corner into our area and said, in a too cheery voice, “Hi there! You have appendicitis.”

I swear in that moment I could feel the cosmic force of the universe tremble with suppressed laughter at this finely crafted moment of ironic timing. My only response to the doctor and Graham was, “Well... I guess I’m staying here for the night?” Remember when I thought it was IBS? Couldn’t we go back to that?

I’ve mentioned before the idea of surgery scares me. I’d hoped I’d only have to experience anesthesia from getting my wisdom teeth removed. I fully expected to break down in hysterics then, but I guess I was just too tired and overwhelmed to react in such a big way. I called my mom and told her what was happening, and the first suggestion she made was for me to come home and heal in Chicago.

...mom, I love you, but getting on a plane immediately after major surgery in the MIDDLE OF A GLOBAL PANDEMIC FROM AN AIRBORNE VIRUS is frankly the DUMBEST IDEA EVER.

After realizing that would be a bad move, she suggested she come out to be with me while I heal. While an appealing process, it ultimately wouldn’t be of much use, because she’d have to quarantine for two weeks before seeing anyone at that point. Eventually, she offered to book a hotel room for me and Graham for a long, extended weekend to help me recover. It was extremely generous of her, and I’ll forever be grateful she did it.

I was hooked up to antibiotics to prep for surgery, and the attending surgeon explained the procedure to me. Everyone was so calm and sure of themselves that I felt okay, and the inevitable wave of panic was held off. At 4:30am, I was wheeled up to the operating room. Graham stayed by my side as long as he could and walked all the way to the doors of the OR hallway with me and the attending. I made sure he and my mom had each others’ phone numbers so he could give updates. I was wheeled through the doors, and met with my operating team.

The anesthesiologist and practicing surgeon assured me that they felt fine, well-rested, and at the top of their game, and I was able to relax some as I moved off of my gurney onto the operating table. Once I was on the table, clad only in a thin hospital gown and gripper socks, my body started to shake. Whether it was from the cold or the panic had finally set in I wasn’t sure, but I calmly told the doctors that I thought my fight or flight response was kicking in, and they might need to consider restraining my shaking limbs.

They did, and they also put a heated (and somewhat weighted) blanket over me which relaxed me so my limbs weren’t shaking so violently. An oxygen mask was placed on my face, sealing my nose and mouth into a thick plastic chamber. I tried to breathe deeply and evenly, forcing myself to think of pleasant thoughts and not spiral into a headspace of worst case scenarios. I think what helped most was actually an attending nurse reading out loud my patient chart for posterity and recording’s sake, and he said, “Patient is a twenty-seven year old female named Maureen Ford.”

The annoyance I felt at being misnamed (again as Maureen) cut through the second wave of panic buildup, and my only goal was to correct him. The oxygen mask muffled my voice, but I like to think if you were to listen to the audio recording of my surgery, you would hear, very faintly in the background, me indignantly stating, “It’s pronounced MAREN!”

My last thought before I went under was that I need to make sure that nurse was corrected.

When I woke up, I felt more comfortable than I had in a very long time. The only thing that kept me from being in a total state of comfortable bliss was the slowly incoming knowledge that my mouth was drier than the Sahara desert at noon in July. Despite this, and the residual effects of the anesthesia still in effect, I was pleased to find that not only could I clearly hear and understand the conversations happening around me, I could also coherently speak and communicate with people. I asked for water as soon as I could, and the nurse told me that they’d have to work me up to water. We’d start with a lemon swab in my mouth, followed by ice chips, and then I could get water. The attending surgeon came in to tell me the surgery went smoothly without complications, and I asked her if she could make sure whoever called me Maureen was corrected on my name pronunciation.

I really hope it wasn’t written off as a sleepy patient’s delirious request, because I was absolutely serious about it.

After eating some very powdery eggs and drinking an apple juice, I was discharged and told to get my medications, rest up, avoid lifting anything over 15 pounds, stay away from submerging my sutures in water, and to schedule a one week post-op follow up with my primary care provider and a two week post-op follow up with the attending surgeon.

Graham drove us back to Bay Ridge, and I gave him my keys to go grab some essentials from my apartment. I gave Michelle and Polina a heads up that he was coming up (and I had let them know what was happening before I went into surgery) and that I’d be gone recovering through the weekend and partway into the week. They both wished me a speedy recovery, Graham grabbed a few essentials for me, and we drove up the street to pick up my meds from Rite Aid.

For some reason, they had only filled two of the four prescriptions. One they didn’t fill because it was a controlled substance and the hospital hadn’t submitted the proper authorization for it, and the other prescription (one of two laxatives) I have no idea why it wasn’t filled. Eventually, I got both my pain medications and one of the laxatives, with the other laxative to be filled and picked up at a different Rite Aid, closer to Graham’s work.

Exhausted, sore, hungry, and (in my case) in desperate need of a shower, we made it back to Graham’s to spend one more day there before going off to the hotel my mom had booked us. Graham had been scheduled to work that day, but after calling into the office was told he should only come in if he thought it was absolutely necessary. He ended up catching a few hours of sleep before going in for the late shift at work. I managed to take a shower and fell asleep on his couch as his bed was too soft and sent my abdomen into absolute agony. I blinked in and out of consciousness for the next few hours, waiting for Graham to come home with my last bit of medication. In that time, my dad called to check on me and ask how I felt, what I was prescribed, and what was expected of me. As we were talking Graham called, and I excused myself so I could answer the call. Nothing could have prepared me for what Graham was going to say to me.

“I was just hit by a truck.”

*click*

#part 2

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riplady12 · 4 years

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The thing I hate most about this mask and antimask business is that divide right there. You have very effectively made and us vs them battle between civilians while the rich and entitled of ALL COLORS AND POLITICAL VIEWS get to sit back as usual and spend our hard earned money and do whatever the fuck they want as we squabble with one another.

My view is to prevent unnecessary violence, follow the rules as you are comfortable and when face to face with a rule breaker just go the other way. It’s like driving when some asshole is trying to cut you off, you can A honk and flip him off and risk and accident or B slow down/move over and prevent one. If you are being confrontational then yes you are part of the problem too. This illness is known to spread from people speaking loudly and even singing. Going to scold someone sitting on the floor and refusing to leave is spreading the disease. Yes they’re being impertinent but like a child if everyone ignores them then they’ll be on their way. Life isn’t fair, and you can never force someone to give a shit about you. Why do you think this virus would change that? We can’t even convince people to accept gay marriage, are you expecting a miracle? I’m sorry if this sounds like I’m scolding the pro maskers but there’s always more than one side to the story and I’m tired of hearing that someone got into a fight or even worse, killed bc they had differing views. If I am willing to listen to an ultra crazy bible humping west borough baptist church mofo just for the slight chance that I can make them think a little differently, then maybe you should try too. (No it’s not easier bc I’m religious, I’m not at all I just practice wearing other people’s shoes constantly).

I would like to say for the anti maskers also, be truthful. Don’t lie and say you have a medical condition I know it’s tempting bc they have that exemption statement at the bottom of every sign that says to wear a face covering but you make yourself look very unintelligent. Also NO YOU ARE NOT BREATHING IN CARBON DIOXIDE (CO2). Just tell the truth that you don’t care, we’re human we all have faults. Starting with the truth will actually make things a little better and most importantly don’t get mad. Don’t ‘rise up to the challenge’, don’t call attention to yourself. You most likely don’t care about people so do your best to stay away when out and about. We can all coexist safely if people would simply get along. Oh! And don’t bring relgious beliefs into it and don’t bring threats. (For both sides).

Also is anyone going to mention the virus is now being seen as airborne aka the mask was useless before in protecting me but now they’re basically telling us its useless in protecting those around us as well. Any thoughts? Certainly haven’t seen gma or gpa in a while :( I read the CDC first said it was an ‘unedited’ post but now I’m seeing more and more of it. Another question, does anyone personally know people who’ve gotten it? I want to know the geographical location like North or South and the severity if anyone cares to respond.

Friendly reminder vaccinations are our friend please just bc your children may not be in school GET THEM THEIR SHOTS ANYWAYS. They will live longer and no they won’t mutate (:

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newstechreviews · 4 years

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The 2020 Emmys had to be different. Such is, of course, the reality for all awards shows right now. But the TV Academy’s annual self-congratulations ritual was begging for a revamp long before COVID-19 hit. Without a host to personalize the ceremony, the downbeat 2019 telecast drew just 6.9 million viewers—a 32% decline over the previous year. Another drop of that magnitude, and it might be hard to justify devoting three hours of Sunday-night airtime to a glorified industry event.

Hopefully, it won’t come to that. Because despite the unprecedented challenge—or, perhaps more accurately, because of it—this year’s Emmys turned out to be one of the most enjoyable awards shows in recent memory. That success wasn’t necessarily the result of any one big decision on the producers’ part. But many of the details worked well, from H.E.R.’s lovely rendition of “Nothing Compares 2 U” during the In Memoriam montage, to Jennifer Aniston frantically extinguishing a trash fire as part of a gag about sanitizing award envelopes—and then reappearing two hours later flanked by her Friends co-stars Courteney Cox and Lisa Kudrow. Bits by genuinely funny people like David Letterman (“Regis, I checked; you’re in the montage, buddy”) and Anthony Carrigan as Barry’s NoHo Hank (himself flimsily disguised as a U.S. postal worker) earned their laughs. Inviting essential workers to present a handful of awards could’ve come off as patronizing, but the show avoided schmaltz by actually letting them share their experiences. And clips of luminaries like America Ferrera and Lena Waithe speaking candidly on their early encounters with Hollywood was a welcome alternative to the usual guilty jokes about the industry’s racism and sexism from the obligatory white-guy host.

Speaking of which: Jimmy Kimmel wasn’t an extraordinary host by any means, but he was certainly better than nothing. (If that seems like faint praise, it’s a whole lot more than I can say for Ricky Gervais at the Golden Globes this past January.) His mere presence throughout the evening brought much-needed consistency and enthusiasm to a telecast that, due to its far-flung nominees, could’ve felt scattered or low-energy. In fact, there was something kind of comforting about the very averageness of “Pandemmys” jokes aimed at easy targets like anti-maskers and Quibi (which Kimmel rightly identified as “the dumbest thing to ever cost a billion dollars.”) I mean, what feels more normal than an awards-show host doing just OK?

ABC via Getty Images—2020 American Broadcasting Companies, Inc.Anthony Carrigan in a bit as his ‘Barry’ character NoHo Hank during the 2020 Emmy Awards.

Really, though, it was the winners who made the 2020 Emmy Awards special. It’s always heartening to see some of the best nominees take home trophies (or have the trophies delivered to their homes via interns driving Kias, as the case may be), particularly after the farce that was the Game of Thrones‘ atrocious final season winning top honors last year. And while there weren’t too many surprises on Sunday, Zendaya’s richly deserved Lead Actress in a Drama upset livened up the proceedings nicely.

As for the favorites that dominated the night—Schitt’s Creek in the comedy-series category, Succession in drama and Watchmen in limited series—each one fulfilled some vital function for Americans toughing out this pandemic year from our couches. And the acceptance speeches reflected how thoroughly the casts and crews understood what we were getting out of their work. Along with his gratitude, Succession creator Jesse Armstrong underscored his dramedy’s cathartic lampooning of the super-rich and mega-destructive with a torrent of “un-thank-yous” to Donald Trump, Boris Johnson and nationalist leaders around the world.

Watchmen honorees from Regina King to creator Damon Lindelof and writer Cord Jefferson leaned on the series’ most political moments, such as its wrenching depiction of the 1921 Black Wall Street Massacre in Tulsa, and urged viewers to take advantage of voting tools like Ballotpedia. I was especially moved by Supporting Actor in a Limited Series winner Yahya Abdul-Mateen‘s speech, in which he acknowledged that Watchmen was a story about white domestic terrorism and inherited trauma, before pointing out that “it was also about a god who came down to earth to reciprocate to a Black woman all the love that she deserved. He’d offer her sacrifice and support, passion, protection. And he did all of this in the body of a Black man.” Abdul-Mateen continued, “I’m so proud I was able to walk into those shoes.” He dedicated his Emmy to the Black women in his life.

Nothing captured our collective thirst for comfort, positivity and familial togetherness more than the Schitt’s Creek sweep, which had the show’s major players—gathered in masks and formalwear at a small, socially distanced party—accepting seven straight awards. The Canadian ensemble was humble as always, giving generous shout-outs to each other and fellow nominees they admired, such as Issa Rae. “The internet’s about to turn on me,” Daniel Levy, who co-created the comedy with his father and fellow Emmy winner Eugene Levy, joked after his third time at the mic. “I’m so sorry for making this political, but I had to.” Even when they kept their masks on, you could tell how thrilled the members of the fictional Rose family were for each other. (“I can’t believe that Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara are my friends!” exclaimed their TV daughter, Annie Murphy.) Maybe it got a little old hearing them reiterate that the show was a celebration of kindness and inclusivity, but those values could not have been more refreshing at a time characterized by isolation, anger and mourning. For a few minutes on Sunday evening, it was possible for millions of struggling people across the country to imagine ourselves as honorary Roses—punched in the gut by life but united by human decency and capable of finding their way back to something like normalcy, together.

#Blogger

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