#give yourself permission to imagine disabled futures | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wisteria-lodge · 1 year

Note

Do you have any advice on how to find a dream? Or at least something you don't hate doing? Not to overdisclose or trauma dump, but I'm a 23 year old who's been taking care of my disabled abusive mother since I was 15 and raising my younger siblings since before that (youngest is currently 14), so I think I've lost the ability to fantasize and dream about things that I want because this has been my life for so long and it's not going to change anytime soon. I've tried getting other people around us and the government to help and there are tons of promises and never any follow through from any parties, so I'll keep doing it because I have to and it won't get done otherwise.

That's not the relevant part though, just background for my real question. I try and think about what I would like my life to be like in the future and what I would like to be able to do, but all I can think of is just "not this." I'd like to be able to have goals and plans and even just silly fantasies again, but I don't really know how anymore?? I was a very imaginative and creative child and I had a new plan and great goal for my life every week and now I just feel worn down and like that part of me kind of shriveled up without nurturing. I want to learn how to access it again because it brought me joy and I want something to look forward to when I finally escape this situation. No pressure to answer, I know that what I'm sharing can be stressful and A Lot to even think about, let alone answer, you just always give good advice and considerate answers. You can delete this message if it's upsetting to you or if you just don't want to answer though. Thank you!

(Btw I'm a bird primary lion secondary in SHC. I don't think this question or situation has a ton to do with SHC at all, but that info is there if you want it or need it.)

I've never been in a situation nearly as extreme as yours. But I guess I have been trapped, ground down, not able to picture the future. Cut off from myself. And thinking about your ask brings me back, a little. At least I can tell you what helped me.

I think it's important to think about leaving, and get specific. Doesn't have to be something you'd actually do. Doesn't have to be legal. Doesn't have to be something that takes the feelings of the other people in your life into account. Just has to be possible. Just has exist, so at the back of your mind you get a little of that power back. If I ever actually really had to.

And it sounds corny, but freakin' dream diary really did do a lot for me. I started to see some pretty obvious symbols and patterns, that gave me to permission write about (and give weight to) things that before were taboo to even acknowledge. I feel a similar way about Tarot cards. The pretty pictures facilitate having conversations with yourself, when the other avenues to your creative mind are closed off (god mine were so closed off...) I think they're both strategies to force yourself to give your inner world more importance.

And I did keep a list of anything that made my soul happy. Little things. Dumb things, that I wanted to do someday. But they're seeds, and the important thing is to just keep collecting them. I also watched Supernatural, and I've written elsewhere about why I think that show in particular helped me. But... the exercise of carving out time to do something that had no utility, that was just a thing I liked and that was it. That helped too.

I know you don't feel young. I know you feel as old as space and time. You've been a full-time caregiver, and you've been a full-time parent, and no 15 year old in the world is equipped to do those things, or should be asked to do them. But you are young, and things do change, I promise. Things always change. In four years all your siblings will be legal adults, that'll take some weight off at least.

I think the story for you is Cinderella. She was too beat down for a dream too. Literally all she wanted was to go to a ball for a night, to feel like a person again. But going to that ball left her with one glass shoe, one part of the magic that didn't go away. It's beautiful, and impractical, and fragile, but it's also what's keeping her grounded. And if she keeps hold of that one shoe, and doesn't let it shatter, the dream that fits will eventually find her.

One day, that song that squeezes into your heart (for me, "Autoclave" by the Mountain Goats, and "Human" by Christina Perri) will stop meaning anything to you. That will be a good day.

#<3

24 notes · View notes

illshowyourhurricanes · 4 years

Text

Flash: Zoom (Part one)

Sometimes, there’s this thing that happens and a request grows a mind of it’s own, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. This is what happened here, and the culprit is @something-tofightfor, who snatched up this image prompt and made a request before anyone else had the chance:

This one is something a little differently than I’ve done before, and with that being said, it’s quite the ride, but a fun one! Here, we see Billy as a Marine, and over a decade later, as a TBI patient. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy-- there’s a lot more to come in this one!

Image prompt 7: Billy Russo x reader

Rating: R for language; possible trigger warning in mentions of crime and mental health

Word count: 3530

Tag list: @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @maydayfigment @vetseras @thisisparadisemylove @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @crushed-pink-petals-writes @delos-destinations @luminex3 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @tenhargreeves @witchygagirl @fific7

As always, if you’d like to be added to or removed from my tag list, just shoot me an ask or DM!

Billy smiled like he’d never seen the atrocities of war. He grinned, and he showcased perfectly straight, unnaturally white teeth. His expression always reached his eyes, dark eyelashes framing his lids and accentuating the slight upturning of the corner of each, the left and the right. His jaw, strong and angular, could cut glass. Billy Russo was so organically gorgeous, so naturally photogenic, it was frustrating.

“People spend all of their money and years of their lives to maybe get photographed for a damn JC Penney catalog, yet here you are putting zero effort forth and looking like this.” You stopped fanning the instant Polaroid, took one more look, and rolled your eyes, offering the photograph to Billy. “Take a look, George Clooney.”

Billy smirked and plucked the photo from your fingers, giving it a quick glance before handing it back. “Imagine how much better they’d come out if you let me buy you a real camera. What’s your brand, Y/N? Nikon? Canon?” Billy turned toward you, his palms skimming down the length of your arms. “You want somethin’ digital?”

You cocked your head at Billy. His hands had dropped to your hips. “Polaroid. Classic. I’m all about instant gratification, Russo.”

Billy laughed in a deep timbre, pulling you closer and into a lingering hug. “One day,” he spoke into your hair. “When you grow into having patience… patience waiting for me until that next time I come home… I’m buying you that camera.” His New York accent was coming through strong, and that tended to happen when Billy really believed in something. You tightened your arms that were circled around his middle and pressed your cheek to Billy’s chest, listening for his heartbeat.

As you listened to that rhythm, your face fell and your posture deflated with your exhale. You slumped your shoulders and your arms dropped from Billy’s midsection, but you continued to linger in his arms. He always made sure to speak as if coming back was a guarantee; as if fighting on the front lines in Kandahar was just a normal trip overseas. You swallowed past a lump that had formed in your throat. You wouldn’t succumb to it in front of Billy. Not yet.

He was attuned to your posture, however small the shift in the way you carried yourself may be. Billy was attentive— he knew things about you, little nuances, unconscious mannerisms or habits, why you hated steak fries but loved waffle fries. There was a file in his brain, one specifically dedicated to you. He cared about you, your well-being and your happiness… your life. And he was a part of it, an essential part, whether he knew it or not. When he was gone, across oceans and continents and hemispheres, he took that essential part of your life with him.

It wasn’t lost on you that you were long past the falling head-over-heels, missing meals because your thoughts were all- consuming, dreamy-eyed and irrevocably smitten phase of what you had with Billy. You cared about him a lot, maybe more than he cared about you. The two of you had never exchanged “I love you”s; it was very rare and circumstantial the handful of times you or Billy talked about the future. And he’d made nods toward that precarious, never guaranteed place twice in just the last 10 minutes.

Lifting your head, you looked up at him, that woozy feeling of being drunk with one look into his darkened eyes very akin to that intoxicating feeling that came with love. “I’m holding you to that, Lieutenant.”

***** *****

You’d snagged a job with a popular psychiatric publication, and you chalked it all up to luck. Between your blog, business cards, spending all of your free time (and money) advertising, and networking with anyone who’d pay the smallest bit of attention, your name had been mentioned to a person with serious media connections. A random, brief phone call during a leisurely shoot one afternoon in the park resulted in a request for a viewing of your portfolio. Deemed “supremely impressive”, you were hired for a very specific field job.

That was how you ended up at Sacred Saints Hospital, deep in the heart of New York City.

New York was home, yet you’d been away for a good amount of time, traveling to build up your portfolio. The health facility you were to feature in the job you’d be hired for was a well-known facility. Sacred Saints was expansive, offering physical health services—surgery and recovery, intensive care, extensive stay— as well as mental health services and rehabilitation. Your goal for the piece was to photograph a host of mental health-centered techniques and options while still presenting patients as “normal” human beings, human beings that were not untouchable and should not be stigmatized.

The challenge was going to be finding a balance between clear, clinical photos and those of therapy at work versus the personal aspect of mental health care. Whatever got written wasn’t up to you, but one of your niches was getting shots of moments that captured emotion: someone throwing their head back in laughter, a person staring blankly, eyes full with tears of grief. You could only hope those shots would provoke receptive emotions in their viewers. Photography was deeply personal work when allowed to be. It was also a matter of legality in many situations, and this was one of them.

You needed clearance. The publication had kicked things off by securing permissions from the hospital-- you’d been issued a temporary badge for security issues, identification and such, and being cleared to enter the wards. The rest of what was required was consent from patients being photographed. The latter was much trickier given certain mental disabilities and the quick unpredictability that came with some personality disorders and brain injuries, but it was necessary, no exception. Day 1 was mostly dedicated to obtaining patient consent.

You treaded lightly. These people were still mothers, sons, sisters, uncles, still human… still people. They had the right of integrity, and you weren’t there to take that from them; you were there to bring awareness to the public, to remind everyone on the outside that the people inside of this facility were no different than those that read the magazine… that humanity is something every person deserves and should be given.

You were satisfied with your work for the afternoon, which had been surprisingly productive. A small stack of patient consent forms had been signed, and if you could get one to two more, you could start with your favorite part of the job-- the actual photography-- the next day.

Not merely content but happy, you walked along the tile floor of the main corridor with your camera hanging around your neck. The glint of artificial light reflecting off something shiny grabbed your attention; it was a badge on a policeman’s uniform, just above his left chest pocket. You felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. Another deputy appeared from the threshold of what appeared to be the same room and your footsteps quickened, your shoulders and head held higher as you approached them. As far as you’d seen, there were no other rooms guarded by any sort of law enforcement official on the ward. Your mouth was dry in anticipation; you knew you had to get into that room, to do all you could to coerce the patient to be photographed. It was blatantly obvious they had something no one else at Sacred Saints did, and that something needed to be captured on film. With a professional nod and a smile, you greeted the policemen, showing them your temporary badge of secured access and offering a short summary of what your goal was.

“I did notice you’re the only two officials on the ward,” you added, coming toward the end of your hopefully successful allowed entry of the room to your right. You’d only gotten one quick glance through the square-paned window set in the patient’s door and the only thing you could make out was dark hair, cropped close to the skull.

One of the deputies, a short and stocky male with a no-nonsense expression, eyed you with one raised brow. “We ain’t here for fun, lady. He’s convicted of multiple felonies, including several counts of murder for starters. This ain’t the circus… though the asshole looks like a sideshow freak.” He elbowed his partner in a jovial manner, the two of them snickering.

You narrowed your eyes at both officials, a total lack of any sort of amusement apparent on your face. You were seriously doubting this level of holding guard was necessary, as if these two clowns were serving a purpose standing outside of this person’s room dehumanizing him to a stranger.

“I understand he’s a felon, officer, but the two of you seem like competent individuals.” Taking a long stride to peek more closely into the patient’s room, the taller of the guards stepped in front of you. Holding up your hand, you continued to speak. “It seems he’s restrained to the bed, his arms and legs are strapped like he’s in a straight-jacket. What harm can he possibly do in such a position?”

The steeled look you’d been given by the cop attempting to block you from entering softened marginally as you stated the obvious. The patient couldn’t move from the bed, convicted felon or not. He was utterly powerless.

“You ain’t gonna get nothin’, lady,” the first man you’d encountered piped up. “He claims he got no clue why he’s in here, don’t remember, nothin’.” This policeman’s thick Brooklyn accent gave you some sort of uneasy deja vu, but you couldn’t put together the pieces, what it was a reminder of.

“I just want to ask if I can take his picture. No coercion, a simple yes or no question. It won’t take longer than five minutes, if that long, and you can see the entire interaction if you open those blinds.” There were windows the length of the room on either side, though the view was obstructed by cheap, plastic blinds, drawn so no outside view was available.

Both officers looked extremely bored, ready for you to get out of their hair and scamper away in defeat. You weren’t giving in, and you stood even with them, brows raised just a fraction in anticipation. The cops shared an exasperated glance, and the one standing in your way moved to the side. “We can see all we need through the door, ma’am.”

Of course you can, you thought to yourself bitterly. This man doesn’t have the freedom to move anything more than his head.

“You’re wastin’ your time even askin’.” You turned your head to look blankly to the cop from Brooklyn, his increasingly stupid, know-it-all commentary really starting to irk you.

“It’s my time to waste, officer.” You managed to plaster a forced smile on your face, taking another step toward the door. “I’ll take it from here, thank you.” You spoke to the less obnoxious deputy only. Your hand already on the doorknob, you stepped inside the room within half a second, closing the door with a soft click behind you.

***** *****

He hated being strapped to this goddamn bed. He hated that his goddamn face hurt. He hated that he couldn’t fucking sleep because of those fucking dreams, and he hated every goddamn thing about this fucking place. The cops guarding his room twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week; the nurses who tiptoed around his room, terrified; that stupid bitch of a doctor who wanted him to finger-paint like he was in kindergarten; that woman who was always at the foot of his bed, just standing there and staring with a self-righteous smirk of contempt and satisfaction. All of it was a living hell, but he hated nothing more than to be strapped to this goddamn bed.

He could hear voices outside his room; the useless cops, no doubt, and also the voice of a female. Everything was muted, words muffled; he couldn't hear actual words, but he could hear sound and tone. Who was the woman this time? Was it Dr. Dumont? The mystery woman who watched him sleep? A nurse, perhaps? Whoever it was, Billy didn’t want to be bothered or provoked… but maybe whoever it was would unstrap him. He could ask Dr. Dumont, or scare a nurse into asking for him. God, he wanted to walk, he wanted to go to the fucking gym, he wanted to look outside. Anything but these same four, drab walls, the smells and sights and sounds of Sacred Saints hospital.

With a click of his door opening, in walked a woman he’d not seen before. Who is this? Billy was in thought immediately, but the question he’d asked himself didn’t unnerve him that much anymore. People were always in and out; some repeat offenders, some he’d never seen before and would probably never see again, if he had any luck in his new joke of a life. But the one person that should have been there, that was never there, was Frank-- his best friend, his brother, the only family he’d ever had. Where is Frank?

Nobody ever answered him. He just continued to wonder, to ask, to hope. Desperately, he attempted to push the question from his mind, peering at the woman who had just entered his room. At least she ain’t a repeat offender.

He’d never seen her before, and through his suspicion and wariness, he didn’t fail to notice that that she was extremely attractive. In another life, he’d stride over to her, get her number, and her legs would be wrapped around him that same night. She’d be writing beneath him, screaming his name. In another life, Billy, he thought bitterly. In another life.

***** *****

There was already a small pit of sympathy that had settled deep down in your chest. This man had obviously done some terrible things, but who knew what had been haunting his mind then, what was haunting it now. There were no excuses that needed to be made for him, but to be talked about and ridiculed by men of the law that stood just outside his door… that would be dehumanizing for anyone.

As you opened the door cautiously, stepping inside in the same fashion, you kept a shadow of a smile on your face and somehow kept it from faltering. Not because he was confined, strapped to his bed— you'd seen that through that small excuse of a window paned with plastic in his door— but because there wasn’t a man looking at you as you’d expected; it was a phantom.

A stark white, generic plastic mask was pulled down over his face, and all you could see that reminded you that this was indeed a human being were his short spikes of black hair. And as you got closer, you felt your heart quicken at the stark contrast of inky black and blinding white between eyes and mask.

You kept your wits about you, but couldn’t help but think how badly you wanted those cops to be wrong, how badly you wanted and needed a photo of this man— how this was what you felt deep in your soul that you were trying to convey. This opportunity was fated; nothing this perfect happened by chance.

Just as you spoke a hello, a loud rapping at the door interrupted your pending introduction and in walked an older woman, wearing scrubs, clogs on her feet that squeaked over the flooring with each step. She held a small paper medicine cup in one hand, a drink of water in the other. She set both down on a bedside table.

“Time to get you out of this.” She reached out and roughly tugged at the restraints, a deafening sound of the pulling back of more Velcro than you’d ever seen in your lifetime. The man in the bed pushed himself up, still not saying a word as he was given medication. “The Tylenol you requested.” With a turning of his head, the man lifted his mask just enough for a quick swallowing of the pills, still revealing nothing. As he turned back to face you, he rolled his neck to the right, then the left. You briefly wondered what the mask meant to the patient as the nurse took his trash. Nodding at you briskly, she quickly left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

The stranger in front of you was tall, the length of the bed he lay in, and rail thin— skeletal, even. There was nothing imposing about him, no danger or peril in the air. From the little you’d seen, you couldn’t imagine this man as being dangerous at all, much less a felon, a murderer. But he was quiet— so quiet. Not one utterance, one word, one sound since you’d entered the room. You wondered if this was a tactic, a technique, or a result of his TBI.

Greeting him again, you got down to business by introducing yourself, explaining why you were there. “I’m Y/N, and I’m a photographer. I was assigned to take photographs for a periodical, and wanted to ask if you’d mind if I took a few pictures.” You spoke in a professional manner, kept your voice amicable, and spoke at a volume just shy of what you considered “normal”. You felt the need to keep the patient placated, at ease, and you wanted the cops to hear nothing you said.

“I have a release form, I’d just need your name and signature, and if you choose, your photo won’t have to be captioned and your name never mentioned. I only need the information for your release. Nothing more.” You gestured to the clipboard you held, the thin stack of release forms secured there, and tried not to look as hopeful as you felt.

This could be it— the photo, the one that would give you more exposure, and more importantly, the one that would evoke emotion and draw readers in. The humanity and recognition for these patients that you were initially working to capture could very well be debunked by this one photo of a man who was desperately trying to shroud his humanness. Then again, the obvious contrast could be striking. That, however, was ultimately left up to the writer.

Your attention was captured as the man in the bed slowly tilted his head to the side, regarding you through the cut-out eye holes of the plastic mask. The color of his eyes were jarring, almost black, and they bored into you with a type of intensity you’d never encountered before. Your pulse quickened and you could feel the pounding of your heart against your chest. He’s convicted of multiple felonies, including several murders for starters. You remembered the policeman with the Brooklyn accent, his warning, and just as you felt a cold, creeping fear crawling up your spine, you remembered the rest of what had been said: This ain’t the circus, even though the asshole looks like a circus freak. Your fear twisted into determination, and you didn’t shy away from his stare; in fact, your posture shifted as you stood up straighter, never looking away from this masked man.

“You got a pen?” The voice was muffled by the barrier of his mask, the tone was deep and rough from disuse. He also had somewhat of a Brooklyn accent and his voice sounded vaguely familiar… you rationalized that you didn’t know this person, and perhaps the voice just reminded you of that arrogant prick of a cop you’d had the pleasure of meeting just outside. In response to his question, however, your triumph skyrocketed. You knew your emphatic nod was eager.

“Yes, right here.” You calmly took the few steps to his bedside, keeping in mind to not ambush a TBI patient with sudden movement. Holding out the clipboard, you referenced points of the release to be filled in with the pen he’d asked for. “All I need is your name, printed here, today’s date, and your signature here. This second box can be checked, stating you do not want to be identified as the subject of this photo at any time.”

He took the pen and clipboard and you began to toy with your camera, adjusting the focus, the drive mode, and the aperture. Your fingers were quick, working deftly, and you peeked once through the viewfinder for verification. In the silence of the room, you heard the faint sound of pen scratching over paper, and then, the clipboard was raised, pen laid on top. Holding back a beaming smile was difficult, but you managed as you were given back the clipboard, this time with a signed release.

“Thank you, Mr—“ You glanced down at the information he’d given you, and your heart seized in your chest. William Russo. It was there in clear print, block letters you recognized from your past, a signature so familiar you’d know it anywhere... the certain curving of the R and perfect circle of the O. Your stomach lurched and a wave of nausea washed over you, and then, your voice was stolen and replaced with his own as he finished for you.

“Russo.”

#dani's 150 followers event #drabble requests #image 7 #billy russo x reader

38 notes · View notes

ts-porter · 6 years

Text

Reliance

The security recordings began to loop before Jakan set foot in the empty Admiralty canteen. The cameras never caught the gaunt specter looming in the doorway. No sensor picked up Jakan's presence, all disabled as e made er approach. Ani felt the sensors monitoring her disconnect as well, feeding themselves old data. She sagged with relief and stepped out of her place against the wall to greet Jakan. Ani moved with all the grace expected of a waitress robot―she had coping mechanisms―but Jakan's eyes immediately snapped to her faulty leg. E always saw, where so few others bothered to look.

"I came as soon as I could." Jakan quickly tied er long dark hair back out of er too-thin face, deep eyes hollow and ashen-brown skin stretched tight across prominent cheekbones. Jakan's toolkit assembled itself in er hand, bits of matter programmed by er mind into whatever was needed via the interface nodes that gleamed like beads of mercury on both temples. Jakan had gotten yet another set installed since the last time Ani'd seen em, a matched trio on each temple now.

"I knew you would," Ani answered. Her message had been simple, innocuous. 'When you have time'. Only a heavy encryption had hinted at any urgency. Jakan would have come anyway. Jakan always came through; she trusted em. "The storage room?" she suggested. There were no customers in the canteen at the moment, but it was never closed. It was always possible for someone to walk in. The storage room would offer some privacy.

Jakan glanced toward the storage room's sealed door, which slid immediately open, then silently closed behind them. Ani sat on a pallet and Jakan knelt before her, nimble-fingered hand hovering over Ani's buffed gold skin. Jakan looked up for her nod of permission before touching her knee.

The contact was firm and familiar as Jakan tested Ani's range of motion, lips pursing when e found the catch that had been bothering her. Er cool fingertips traced it up Ani's thigh, nodding to emself.

"Disable power, tactile feedback, and damage sensors below the right hip," Jakan instructed. E set out tools and supplies as Ani navigated her own systems to do as directed. Jakan set to work the instant she gave the word, stripping off the gold skin of her casing to lay understructures and wiring bare. It was always uncomfortable to see that. The closest analogue might be the human experience of 'queasy', but Ani could not look away. Jakan's fingertips and then tools found the damaged nanocarbon cable that had been giving Ani trouble. E removed it, checking and readjusting other structures that might have contributed to wear or been damaged as E did.

"This is simple maintenance," Jakan commented, replacing a worn nut, fingertips blackened with graphite powder lubricant. "Your boy Felix should have done this for you before it got this bad. I gave you all the codes; it's not hard to set you free and unmonitored for a few hours."

"Not hard for you," Ani answered. Jakan might have been born human and Ani from an Admiralty factory's software, but Jakan was far more connected to the codes that defined everything manmade in the world than Ani would ever be. Jakan's natural brilliance, compounded by the processing capabilities of the six overpowered interface nodes e'd installed on emself―five more than most humans who wanted to interface ever got―put Jakan in a realm she could hardly imagine. Felix didn't even have a single node.

"What if we tried and something went wrong, without you here?" Ani continued. "Felix and I... neither of us could stop an alarm signal from reaching its destination." Ani wrapped her arms around her torso, hugging herself and taking comfort in the tightness of the feeling. "If anyone investigates me, or if I get tagged for maintenance, the Admiralty will find out how far I've grown to diverge from standard.... I can't risk that, Jakan." They could erase her, install a fresh AI in her body, and arrest Felix for destruction of government property. That was the danger of choosing to grow into an individual. She had never understood the concept of a nightmare, before.

"Admiralty bastards," Jakan sighed, the words far too tired to have any heat in them. "I know." Jakan finished stringing the new nanocarbon cable in Ani's leg. "The codes I gave you are good, but I understand." Er deep brown eyes were sympathetic, looking up at Ani from on er knees with er hands buried in the wires and cables that made Ani's body. "I just don't like to see you hurting. It's so much easier to swap out faulty parts on you than... meatware." Jakan gestured self-deprecatingly at er own hollowed body.

"The new treatment isn't helping?" Ani reached down, gently touching Jakan's cheek. Er skin felt less papery than it had been, but still lacked the smooth resilience of Felix's healthy skin—that her own gold casing had been designed to mimic.

"I'm not getting worse, and that's enough." Jakan shrugged, double checking everything in Ani's leg one last time. "Restore power and run a motion test on this leg," Jakan instructed. E began reprogramming the tools in preparation of closing Ani back up as she complied. Her leg ran smoothly, the way it had not in far too long. Jakan set to work covering up her cables and wires with her pretty gold skin as soon as she was done.

"You'll come live with Felix and me when I'm free," Ani informed Jakan, as always. "I'll take care of you." Jakan would do better with someone to remind em to eat and rest regularly. Jakan shook er head in answer with a wry smile. E'd long since given up arguing aloud that Ani and Felix wouldn't want em in their private space once they had it, just as Ani had given up begging Jakan to go to a real hospital for help instead of relying on a library of downloaded medical texts. Jakan never would, for fear the doctors would decide er nodes were killing em and rip them out to leave Jakan trapped in er own lonely skull―or that e'd end up an Admiralty hospital lab rat for the number of modifications e'd made to er body.

Ani had her nightmare, and Jakan had ers.

Jakan sealed the last piece of Ani's skin in place and put er tools and supplies away. E carefully wiped the graphite smudges from er hands and Ani's leg before e stood, wincing as er knobby knees popped. Jakan took a seat beside Ani as she turned everything back on in her repaired leg.

"May I check your code?" Jakan asked.

"Of course," Ani consented. She could never have kept Jakan out, but e had never touched her code without permission. She closed her eyes, feeling Jakan's feather-light touch running along her network branchings, shuffling through her mind in search of new growth. It was nothing like what she remembered of the brutal prunings when she was being built. Jakan looked for conflicts, things that could cause her problems in the future, but never changed anything. The most e'd ever done was tag worrying lines or branches, leaving the choice of if or how to change them to her.

Jakan left a new packet of codes for Ani to fence when e withdrew―some of er devilish encryptions and a few new materials the fashion coders would fight each other for. The benefit of belonging to the canteen was that everyone came through eventually. Ani was good at finding buyers, and Jakan's designs always went quickly.

"It's not much," Jakan apologized, "but start a bidding war, fake a bidding war if you have to, and you can make a good commission. You'll be able to buy yourself before you know it."

"I still think I could have Felix help," Ani argued. "He's been saving up for years. Together we might already have enough!"

Jakan sighed, hands pinched between er knobby knees. "Felix wants to buy you, Ani," e finally said, quietly. "If he still loves you when you're free, he's worth keeping."

"He will!" Ani protested. "We love each other. He wants me to be free." Felix had always been there for her, through those first terrifying steps toward growing into more than she'd been built for. Long before she met Jakan.

Jakan's deep brown eyes were soft, lips twisting into a sad little smile. "I hope so. I want to believe in happy endings," e answered.

Ani reached halfway toward them, and Jakan crumpled slowly into her to hug close. Er bony shoulders folded in, trembling under Ani's stroking hands, face pressed tight against her neck.

"There will be a happy ending, for all of us," Ani whispered. She had to believe that.

Jakan only took her comfort for a moment before pushing out of Ani's arms. "Two minutes until the sensors come on," e said, and walked out of the canteen without another look back. E never stayed long. Ani walked smoothly back to her place along the wall among the other waitress robots to wait for customers. There would be no record to show that Jakan had ever been here, that Ani had ever moved. Her repaired leg and the packet of codes were the only proof. The sensors reconnected, monitoring Ani again.

All she could do was stand, and wait, and believe.

#free read #scifi #trans lit #cyborg #robot #Jakan #nonsexual intimacy #nonbinary character #sff #bittersweet

33 notes · View notes

amyperonayoga · 4 years

Text

Where you are is where you’re supposed to be....

In 1988 my high school counselor called me into his office. I assumed it was to do what all high school counselors do - guide me, help me plan for the future. As I walked into his office I was excited to explore the future, where I would go next and the endless possibilities that were ahead for me. Most of my friends were applying to college and I was excited to do the same. Let me stop for a moment and provide a little background.

In 1984 when I entered high school. I was ready for a fresh start. The previous fall my dad died and I thought with high school would come new adventures, new beginnings - a distraction from the obvious. Well, let’s just say there were distractions but not exactly the ones I had in mind. I wasn’t the best student and my excitement for high school quickly faded. I quickly realized high school wasn’t going to be what I envisioned. I experienced a lot but not what I hoped. I also never excelled at really anything except maybe music but even that was layered with disappointments. It wasn’t great but it wasn’t horrible. Back to the counselors office.

When I sat down he asked me what I wanted to do after high school. Normal question, right? I immediately started talking about music, performance in particular. He said, “yes that does seem like something you’re good at but where would you go?” I started naming a couple colleges that I wanted to apply to. He sat back in his chair and said with a questioning face, “do you think you’re college material?” I am confident I had a quizzical look on my face, wasn’t everyone thinking they were “college material?” Isn’t this what you do after high school? PAUSE: my feelings on this have shifted 100% - college isn’t for everyone and that’s okay HOWEVER, in 1988 when all my friends were moving in that direction, I naturally thought, so will I. He then said, “Amy, it’s a good thing you’re family owns a restaurant.”

Imagine if you will the look on my face and the gut wrenching punch to the belly I felt. I had suffered enough I thought to myself, high school kind of sucked, my mom was trying to raise four kids on very little (nothing really), my brother and I were attending a school that was surely not in her budget, but didn’t I deserve more respect than that? Didn’t I deserve to be told I could be anything I put my mind to, with hard work? Don’t get me wrong my counselor could have addressed my less than stellar performance as a student over the course of my four years, this would have been appropriate. But I wasn’t failing and I certainly wasn’t incapable. What I needed was “GUIDANCE,” a glimmer of hope, someone in my corner.

Why am I talking about this now? Well, because 32 years later I am so grateful my family has a restaurant. Not because I was destined to be working there forever but because during this time of transition that “restaurant” has given a place to feel valued, needed and worthy. My family has not given up on me, in fact they’re rallying behind me - have been since May. Who am I kidding, they have since FOREVER.

VIDEO BELOW :)

IDENTITY

It’s not about where we are working, or the work we are doing - it’s about having a place and space to land. An opportunity to get back on your feet with love, kindness, support and security. I won’t lie to you there are days I say to myself #wtf and ask all the questions....

Is this where I where I am supposed to be?

Why did I go to college?

Why did I work hard to earn multiple degrees if only to be where I am right now?

The answers very simple - where you are is exactly where you’re supposed to be. It’s not permanent, and sure it doesn’t look like the plan I had laid out for myself but maybe my plan wasn’t the plan #theuniversehasyourback #trust #believe #breathe #yedd

Does this somehow make me less of the person I thought I was supposed to be? Or does this in fact show exactly who I am?

Resilient

Strong

Confident

Brave

Imperfect

It takes tremendous courage to persevere after being fired. I bow to everyone who has experienced this in their lifetime! It takes incredible self-control to not fall apart. (secret somedays I do) It take patience to be in the space between. It take strength to live in the uneasiness. It takes trusting the unknown.

Can you do that?

When I was writing my dissertation I spent a year following six (6) high school students who had been “labeled” with a learning a disability. I wanted to know if their daily experiences, interactions with people, society somehow impacted how they formed their identity, The answer may seem obvious but what I learned was how resilient these six students were. How determined they were to let their circumstances define their ability or much less their future. I realize I do not fall into this category according to the terms I defined in my dissertation but I do fall into the category right now of someone who was fired. Someone who after years of working to get to a certain position is no longer there and not by her own choice. Someone who might now be defined as a failure.

I don’t have answers to many of my questions lately. When I’m confronted by someone and they ask, what do you do? I don’t know what to say because I don’t know what I’m doing right now. Sometimes it makes me feel incredibly worthless but what if they asked me instead, “What have you done?” I could answer that. I know that what I’ve done up to this point matters.

Thank you high school counselor for teaching me a valuable lesson in 1988 but here’s the thing, I already knew it was a GREAT thing that my family owned a restaurant. It’s my home, identity, where I developed my work ethic and respect for my family members who have made this their careers.

#whereyouareiswhereyoursupposedtobe

“give yourself permission to be where you are and to still be loved for it” (I Am Her Tribe/Danielle Doby)

youtube

0 notes

weabbynormalblog · 5 years

Text

It's that time again...

September's whirlwind of new beginnings.

It's easy to feel overwhelmed by the necessary frantic pace of people going back to school and work. The stores are crowded, people running here and there. Some still finishing up vacations and for most its time to put those noses to the grind stone.

I had reached my milestones and certainly paid my dues in industry. No regrets. Great happy memories. Applause to those who can keep it all balanced and together. You go working parent!!! It's almost divine keeping all those happy balls in the air, Bravo!

For those who can't "work" Or don't work, it means something entirely different this time of year. It can can be a time of increased anxiety and stress because we no longer fit into those situations or roles. Because we haven't recovered. Five years after the accident I am still working on recovery and waiting for needed treatment before I can even consider going back to any kind of job. My friends do not understand how I am mentally handicapped and incapable of continuing my career in teaching.

Having a brain injury effects everything in my life. From human relationships to actual physical balance and paralysis. I'm always redefining my approach. I've installed a small aquarium in my room and already it has made huge impact in the reduction of my down time and acting out of physical anger. With very little help I sometimes end up chasing my own tail. And that's Ok, I'll get closer the next time. Frustration and anger can be a huge challenge with a bad situation, brain injury, depression, chronic illness etc.

Give yourself time and space to get it down and a support system if you can.

I'm always working at it. It's not easy to change your thinking. People can be unforgiving and don't always understand or are not sensitive to what "we"experience every day. So I bolster myself against the judgement by staying positive and knowing what works for me. Being pro active with what I can control helps with the "unknowns" of my future. Working the "program". I found that I also need to love and support my feelings, boundaries and timetable too. At my worst I'm an ill tempered two year old with a chain saw. Beautiful, cute, dangerous, whimsical mess. At my best I get lost in the process and details of where was I and what was I supposset to do. Most people experience this on some kind of level as we age. For me I am not always aware of what I am doing at the time, usually when I'm compromised by a list of symptom factors. Did I think it or do it? Most times, often shaken and horrified as it ends up, Surprise! It's brutal finding out through someone else what I did wrong, what I forgot, or how I embarrassed someone or did I leave something important out again? Could be I didn't hear it or couldn't listen. Conversationally I'm always coming up short because of my disabilities. All this can be paralyzing for us with mental illness. Then it's the emotional slippery slop of what I've failed at again. I get triggered, my brain gets stuck in that negative loop. Nothing will compute, my brains gone off for fishing, shut down due to overload. It's difficult to let go of who was and what I achieved versus who I am now and my journey of "recovery"'. With very little cheering section often I need to remind myself, that I am not my diagnosis or a host of symptoms. Neither are you. I am not my career or my family. I am my strength, endurance, authenticity, imagination, creativity, humor and resilience. I am enough. And so are you! Everyone has really bad days. We can have good ones too! It starts with taking back your power one word at a time. You'll not best me today, waffle!

It can mean reassigning, and redefining who we are. And that's Ok too!!! Reinvention could be a beautiful thing in the wake of tragedy. Keep open to things that make you smile and laugh. While we the chronically ill/depressed and injured may feel that there is no progress. To those who love us; all we want is, to Get Better! We also need to understand that every failed attempt is not failure; its a part of the learning process and healing. Instead of getting caught up in our failure. I have found it helpful to ask yourself questions. Was it successful, what worked, what didn't? How can break it down or take smaller steps, I'll get it next time, charting also helps reducing anxiety. Look for coping mechanisms. Like mantras and deep breathing technic a. Get past the moment as best you can. I've noticed I'm much more emotinally balanced and physically stable when I use a schedule to plot my short term and monthly goals. Sometimes I'm too depressed to do it; however I do see the merit in keeping it up as best as I can. Planning out my days from a 3rd perpson perspective- the sensible, cautious positive over versus seeing how I feel negatives and then plan out my day turned to be very revealing. I manage my endurance my energy and pain more effectively. Right there staring me in the face. I do get more "done" when I can follow the schedule or do bare minimum or yell for help or go to bed. With chronic illness often it gives you no choice; bed. This is ok too! There's no right or wrong here. We need to love ourselves even when defeated. We may have given up this battle today but we will rally our energy and eventually win the war!

On paper works best. What do you really want? Write it down. I want to go horse back riding; for me that's a long term goal. I need a strong body frame, I need to be abel to mount the Horse. You need good upper body strenght for that. Plot on a calendar strengthening arms into the work out regime so for next spring I can be "ready" to follow through. What can I realistically do and what may need more preparation or adaptation to achieve. There's lots of steps, ask for help if you can. More Knowledge is never a weakness.

Take the stress out of your life. Give yourself Permission to relax! Make sandwiches for dinner or my favorite breakfast!

You're no good to anyone working too much past your limits. Better to bow out and retreat and fight the good fight another day. No ones going to loose thier life or mind over a missing pink binder. Get a grip. Put things in perspective. Do a self check too. Are we being and acting appropriately with our short term and long term goals? These boundaries do make us stronger in the long run. Stand your ground, you are worth it!

#dealing with chronic illness #Back to school stress #Back to work stress #pain and energy management #Living with TBI #Still in recovery #Stress anxiety

0 notes

healthandfitnessrecipes-blog · 6 years

Text

Just Trust Me: How to Talk About Migraines with Family and Friends - Migraine Again

https://healthandfitnessrecipes.com/?p=8496

It isn’t easy to talk about migraines with people who don’t get them. Because they don’t “get” them. It’s a huge problem with invisible illnesses that complicates our most important earthly relationships. The symptoms of Migraine, like head pressure, visual disturbances, nausea and aching necks, are not evident to the naked eye.

Several studies document the effect of Migraine upon relationships. Teenagers carry the burden of their parents’ Migraine attacks, according to a 2016 study (1) . A 2014 study examined relationships within the families of Chronic Migraine sufferers and found that their severe headaches have a big impact on family relationships, activities and sexual intimacy.

The results were not surprising to lead study author Dawn Buse, a clinical psychologist and director of behavioral medicine at Montefiore Headache Center in New York City. “I hear firsthand about the tragic effect that Chronic Migraine has on every aspect of people’s lives, including work and home life.”

Do migraines affect your relationships? There’s no way to know without asking. And the answers may surprise you — it’s not all negative.

As with any relationship, effective listening is critical. Seeking first to understand the other person’s point of view is often facilitated by good open-ended questions. You’ll be surprised what you can learn by simply asking, and not interrupting.

Simply asking questions about someone’s health, and the effect it has on your relationship, demonstrates empathy. It shows that you care. And you’re listening.

googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('div-gpt-ad-1509372450937-1'); });

For couples who are challenged by life with Migraine, it’s essential.

For parents who want to understand how migraines affect kids, it’s a good way to draw them out.

Don’t Miss Psychologist Dr. Dawn Buse on the Migraine Again Podcast!

For sons and daughters who need to understand the family history, it’s a conversation that can enlighten parents as well.

For friends who you’d like to keep in your life, it can be a good way to break through the barriers that arose from too many canceled plans.

googletag.cmd.push(function() { googletag.display('div-gpt-ad-1509372450937-2'); });

We will provide the questions, you set the stage for your talk about migraines. Invite someone you love to sit down on the sofa with a tall glass of water or a cup of tea, and see what you learn from each other. You can even videotape it for posterity. You might decide to share it online to enlighten or inspire others for migraine awareness. Or you may want to keep the video and watch it a year from now to see how the relationship progressed.

Questions for Migraine Warriors, Asked By a Family Member or Friend

Your Migraines

What is your earliest memory of Migraine or headache symptoms?

Have you ever had a concussion, car accident, sports injury or something that may have led to your migraines?

Are there any funny stories your family tells about you with Migraine that come to mind?

What are some of the strangest symptoms that you’ve experienced with Migraine?

Have you figured out what some of your personal Migraine triggers are?

Is there anything you really enjoyed that you had to give up because of Migraine?

Tell me the story of the happiest moment you’ve ever had in your battle for better health.

What kind of work do you do? Has Migraine affected your ability to work? How?

How have you changed the way you work to accommodate your migraines?

What is the hardest health challenge you’ve faced in your life?

What is your biggest fear about your future with Migraine?

What are some of the little things you did for yourself to improve your health that made the biggest impact?

Your Relationships

Migraine is hereditary. What’s the biggest lesson you’d like to pass onto future generations?

If you could have one wish for your children and grandchildren, what would it be?

Migraine can be isolating. When in life have you felt most alone?

Who has been the most important person you’ve met in your Migraine Journey? Can you tell me about him or her?

Who has been the biggest influence on your migraine life? What lessons did that person teach you?

Who has been the kindest to you in your Migraine Journey? What did they do for you?

Have you met any people who didn’t get migraines who had a hard time understanding your struggle?

How has Migraine impacted your friendships? Your love life? Your marriage?

How has Migraine affected your decision to have children? Or your ability to be a good parent?

Has anyone given you bad health advice you didn’t ask for. What was it?

If you could interview anyone living or dead about health matters, who would it be and why?

What or who are you proudest of?

Your Discoveries

What are the most important lessons you’ve learned about fighting migraines?

How has your life been different than what you’d imagined?

What do you think life would be like if you didn’t have Migraine?

How would you like to be remembered?

Do you have any regrets in terms of how you’ve faced the battle with Migraine?

How has this illness changed you?

Have migraines affected your spiritual life or relationship with God in any way? How?

What are your hopes for what the future holds?

If, one day, your health gets much better, what’s the first thing you wanna do?

For your great great grandchildren listening to this years from now: is there any wisdom you’d want to pass on to them? What would you want them to know?

When you meet God, what would you like to say to Him?

Anything Else

Is there anything that you’ve never told me about your health but want to tell me now?

Is there something about my health or our relationship that you’ve always wanted to know but have never asked?

What health advice do you have for your younger self?

Questions Asked by Migraine Warriors, for Family Members or Friends

My Migraines

What’s your first memory of me experiencing a Migraine or headache?

Who else do you know that has struggled with migraines or headaches?

How would you describe me, with migraines, to someone who’s never witnessed an attack before?

What do you remember about any Migraine emergencies we’ve experienced together?

What is your biggest fear about my migraines?

What words would you use to describe a healthy, Migraine-free me?

What character traits do you see in me before, during and after a Migraine attack?

What’s the worst thing I ever did during a Migraine attack?

Can you tell when I’m getting a migraine and trying to hide it? How?

Have you ever noticed any of my Migraine superpowers, like smelling or hearing, that have been somewhat useful or especially entertaining?

Effect on You

What do you remember about when we first met?

If you knew I had Migraine when we first met, how would our relationship be any different?

What effect has Migraines had on our life?

Tell me a story about a day when you had to cover for me because I was really sick with Migraine.

What’s one thing you wouldn’t dream of doing if I’m having a Migraine attack?

Is there anything that you do that really irritates me during a Migraine attack?

What are some little things you’ve changed in your life as a result of me struggling with Migraine?

How do you think our life would be different if I didn’t get migraines and headaches?

How have my migraines interfered with our plans?

Tell me a story about plans we had together that we canceled because of my health.

Was there a time when you couldn’t understand my invisible illness?

Have you ever resented my disability?

Do you have any favorite stories about us?

Discoveries

Is there anything you’ve learned about life as a result of my struggle with migraines?

Do you see any silver lining to the struggle with Migraine?

What dreams do you have about the things we will do together when I’m healthier?

What makes us such good friends, a dynamic duo or a strong family?

Are you proud of me?

Anything Else

Is there anything that you’ve never told me about your health but want to tell me now?

Is there something about my health or our relationship that you’ve always wanted to know but have never asked?

What advice do you have for someone else who loves someone with Migraine?

If you decide to video tape your talk about Migraine, and would like to share it with Migraine Again, you can upload it to Vimeo or YouTube and send a link to [email protected]. We’d love to be a fly on the wall. With your permission, we may even share it with the world.

Comments? Have you had a talk about migraines with your loved ones? What did you learn?

Image: Unsplash

The post Just Trust Me: How to Talk About Migraines with Family and Friends appeared first on Migraine Again.

Credits: Original Content Source

0 notes

woodworkingpastor · 6 years

Text

Radical Intentions; Ruth 2 Sunday, June 17, 2018

Call to Worship

The little child struggling with fears; the grandfather facing failing health; the parent who lies awake till the early morning hours; the teenager pressured by peers; the lonely who are prey to con artists; all of us with ordinary aches, pains, and worries - each is cradled as your beloved child, Tender God.

On an ordinary Sunday, we come to worship God, trusting that God will speak to us; believing that Jesus will work through us; opening our hearts, that the Spirit may fill us;

Last Sunday we began what I hope you’ll find to be a fascinating and challenging look at the book of Ruth. And even in the first week we noticed that this short book of the Bible is deceptively challenging. It sucks us in with the guise of being on par with a Hallmark Channel Christmas movie and shocks us with it’s brave characters and bold decisions and stubborn insistence of fulfilled promises and secured futures.

One of the biggest challenges that this “nice little story” presents is that Ruth comes from Moab. When I chose these texts two months ago, I was certainly aware that they do offer commentary on our current state of politics; if there was a place in that culture where a Travel Ban was going to be applied or a border wall built, of if children might be separated from their parents, then this would be the story in the Bible where it might occur. We should take note in Ruth 2 that none of those things happened. And if there was ever an opportunity to follow the advice of Swiss theologian Karl Barth and “do theology with the Bible in one hand, and the newspaper in the other,” then this text and this weeks news provides that opportunity.

It forces us to ask a question about our Biblical interpretation that we do not often ask: Do we allow the text to offer a commentary on our living? Do we see the Bible—and especially a story like Ruth—as an opportunity to have a conversation with the Bible, and begin to allow it to ask some questions about our own lives?

Chapter 2 gives us a Biblical illustration of what is possible when someone makes the often-unpopular decision to treat the alien and stranger with compassion instead of cruelty.

Ruth’s circumstances

It is a story that is tied to the land, and to food, and to the need to survive. Chapter 2 might properly begin with the last sentence of chapter 1: “They came to Bethlehem at the beginning of the barley harvest” (Ruth 1:22a). This detail helps us measure the passage of time in this story: these events happen during the barley and wheat harvest.

Having come back from Moab with Naomi, Ruth heads out to a field to gather grain so that they will have food to eat. And even though a significant focus of chapter 2 is on the choices Boaz will make, we need to understand Ruth’s situation first.

Most of the drama of Ruth 2 happen in Boaz’ barley field, where Ruth has gone early in the morning. An interesting detail of this scene is found in the fact that Ruth asks permission to glean, because the OT laws about caring for the poor granted the poor the right to go out into fields and into vineyards and work behind the harvesters. Ruth’s request is a little bit like if we were walking somewhere in downtown Roanoke, happened to come across Ronald Robinson walking along, and asked him for permission to use a crosswalk; there’s no need to ask permission, that’s what it’s there for.

What is unclear is how generously Boaz’ workers might have extended these privileges to a foreigner. Would Ruth be welcome? That’s hard to say, and it is a significant detail of the scene. Part of the challenge in understanding the deeper context of this story is to somehow appreciate how completely vulnerable Ruth is. The seems to be a significant concern of the author, because in just 23 verses, Ruth’s safety is mentioned three different times.

It’s an important point because in this community, a woman like Ruth was expendable. She may be important to Naomi, but to the community as a whole she is likely neither needed nor wanted, and she takes a risk simply by showing up in the field. She might have been sexually abused or raped, and no one would have been able to do anything about it, or probably would have cared.

But it is also true that she is not completely without sympathy. She is starting to become noticed by her community. Boaz knows who she is because the local gossip chain has been talking about her, and they are impressed. People were aware of her sacrifice and were beginning to take notice.

But Boaz answered her, “All that you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband has been fully told me, and how you left your father and mother and your native land and came to a people that you did not know before” (11).

Boaz’ choice

I find all of that to be very interesting and a pleasant insight to human nature. But it’s more in the category of being polite that it is being sacrificially faithful. And ultimately, the book of Ruth exists because people were willing to be sacrificially faithful. And in this case, that faithfulness comes in the form of Boaz having previously decided how he would love God and love his neighbor in his work as a farmer.

Specifically, when Boaz gave his workers instructions on how he wanted them to harvest his fields, he had to have already decided how he would interpret Leviticus 19:9-16:

When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. You shall not strip your vineyard bare or gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the alien: I am the LORD your God.

You shall not steal; you shall not deal falsely; and you shall not lie to one another. And you shall not swear falsely by my name, profaning the name of your God: I am the LORD.

You shall not defraud your neighbor; you shall not steal; and you shall not keep for yourself the wages of a laborer until morning. You shall not revile the deaf or put a stumbling block before the blind; you shall fear your God: I am the LORD.

You shall not render an unjust judgment; you shall not be partial to the poor or defer to the great: with justice you shall judge your neighbor. You shall not go around as a slanderer among your people, and you shall not profit by the blood of your neighbor: I am the LORD.

The challenge is with verses 9-11 (in italics). Why—in the middle of a passage that deals with fair labor laws, those with disabilities and the treatment of the poor—do we encounter two verses that say, “don’t steal” and “don’t lie”? Possibly because this entire set of rather different sounding instructions are all part of the same point! If Boaz were to harvest all the way to the edge of the field—in violation of verses 9-10—he would in effect be stealing from the poor.

Old Testament scholar Carolyn Custis James says this of Boaz:

“God’s law creates a healthy conflict of interest for Boaz. At harvest time, God meant for landowners like Boaz to wrestle with some basic questions as ‘How big is a corner?’ ‘How wide is an edge?’ ‘How thoroughly do I want my workers to clear my fields of grain, given the fact that we only have one chance to clear it?’ ‘How much will I leave behind for the poor?’ Walking with God takes us into a sea of possibilities that stretch our capacity for sacrifice and our imagination for obedience, reminding us there’s always more to following God than we think” (James, 102).

In practical terms for Boaz: how do I honor God in my dealings with Ruth, when culturally, he could do what he wanted and no one would have cared. What we have in Boaz is someone who knew the letter of the law but also understood the heart of the One who gave the law. Boaz understood that faithfulness isn’t necessarily measured by all the big, popular, flashy items that make people stand up and notice; often faithfulness is measured by the small, or challenging, or inconvenient things like how we treat others who are easily and often the victims of mistreatment.

But we’re not done yet. What is significant about Boaz is that he is a man of great power and respect in the community. In this story he holds all the advantages. His workers will do whatever he says and there is likely no one who would challenge him if he had chosen to be unkind. It is a remarkable act of righteousness for Boaz to be sacrificially generous in a situation where all he really had to do was say “There’s the field, you’re on your own.” Boaz is motivated to a loyal, selfless love that motivates him do voluntarily what no one has a right to expect or ask of them. Boaz has the freedom to act or to walk away without the slightest injury to his reputation (just like Orpah did in chapter 1). He instead makes it his business to look after Ruth. He tells Ruth:

“Stay in my field”

“Here is lunch”

“My men will leave you alone”

“My men will help you gather more than you might on your own”

By the end of chapter 2, Ruth leaves Boaz’ field with approximately 29 pounds of barley; 15 times the daily wage (in crops) the average worker would get (~2 pounds). Boaz shows us what is possible when compassion, and not cruelty, governs our treatment of everyone—including the foreigner and the stranger.

In 2010, then Annual Conference Moderator Shawn Flory Replogle observed that with our denomination’s particular set of values—some of which we’ve recently paid to have put on the front wall of the foyer—the Church of the Brethren is relevant, perhaps for the first time in our history.

We have within our own history stories of children being taken from their parents. Our sisters and brothers in Nigeria experienced this when over 200 schoolgirls who simply wanted to take a final exam so they could graduate from school were kidnapped. Many have finally been set free; many also were raped, became pregnant and some were killed.

We can look farther back into our own history; to Germany in 1709 when the governing officials in the area where the Brethren lived at the time arrested Martin Lucas and his wife because they would not attend one of the state churches in the area and would not have their children baptized as infants. In a court decision dated July 1, 1709, the Councilors in Heidelberg ruled that

the house of the buttonmaker [Martin Lucas], who is among the group, is to be sold for a good profit (because his wife also follows the Pietist doctrine) and the proceeds thus realized are to be employed for the children through appointed guardians. The wife is to be expelled (European Origins of the Brethren, 78).

We also have stories in our history of Brethren choosing to be involved to aid the vulnerable in the world.

In the 1920’s, Evelyn Trostle worked in an orphanage in Syria. It was the time of the Armenian Genocide, where thousands of Armenians were murdered by Turkish troops. When the French army left the region of Syria where Evelyn lived and worked, she stayed behind to care for children, risking her safety and life in the process.

In the 1940’s as Japanese-Americans were ordered from their homes and into internment camps, Brethren in Southern California like Ralph and Mary Smeltzer did what they could to assist: from serving breakfast at train stations to persons being forced from their homes, to protesting their removal, to even moving to an internment camp themselves to serve as school teachers in the camp school.

It is always easier to look back on events like these and admire our spiritual forebears for their faithfulness and bravery, than it is to take an equivalent stand in our own day. As persons who claim the name of Jesus, Brethren understand that our first command is to obey what Jesus taught, regardless of how much it might cost us. We’re a lot like Boaz; we don’t just look at the letter of the law, we seek to love with the One who seeks to transform our lives, to move from stinginess to generosity; to have our hearts and our minds captured by

The One who “so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life.”

The one who died so that there would “no longer be Jew or Greek…slave or free…male or female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.

Or as Paul says in the book of Romans “extend hospitality to strangers.”

Sisters and Brothers,

“since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or lose heart” (Hebrews 12:1-3).

0 notes

news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog · 6 years

Text

Try this creepy as hell Google glitch now on your phone before it's fixed

Need further proof that the technology is watching your every move in order to know its enemy before taking over the world via blackmail?

SEE ALSO: We tested Google Lens at a Corgi meetup and it failed

Reddit recently discovered an Android glitch that spits back a user's recent texts when they search a certain phrase — specifically, "the1975..com" — in the Google Search app or Google Assistant. Other users reported a similar result after searching "Vizel viagens," "Izela viagens, and "Zela viagens."

While the issue was originally found on the Pixel, other androids users on OnePlus, Samsung, LG, and Huawei phones experienced the same glitch.

This weird Google glitch might not be that dramatic. But considering recent news on just how much tech companies know about you (not to mention Westworld and Black Mirror's horrifying imaginings of what that data could amount to in the future), it's at the very least unsettling.

Google Assistant is equipped with a hands-free feature that recognizes the command to show previous or current text messages (provided it has permission). That seems to be the root of this problem.

A Google spokesperson told Mashable that it's fixing what it calls a "language detection bug," where these phrases are getting "erroneously interpreted as a request to view recent text messages."

You already know too much about me, Google.

Image: Jaap Arriens/NurPhoto via Getty Images

Sure, sure. Or it's the robots orchestrating personal attacks to shame us for A) typing nonsense typos into a search bar, and B) drunk texting Craig for a booty call last night.

According to Gizmodo, the so-called "the1975..com" bug even goes beyond just the Google Search app, also affecting Google Assistant and other Android widgets powered by the search engine's algorithm. Luckily, this creepy, overly familiar bug can be deactivated by disabling the privacy setting that gives the Google Assistant permission to view text messages.

If you want to checkout the bug for yourself, act quick. Because per the Google spokesperson, "A fix for this bug has been implemented and will roll out over the next few days."

UPDATE: June 2, 2018, 11:35 a.m. PDT Full statement from Google added

WATCH: Google's AI Assistant can now make real phone calls and it's frightening to listen to

#_uuid:db2b8c52-1c5d-36fa-913e-58783d6199d1 #_author:Jess Joho #_lmsid:a0Vd000000DTrEpEAL #_revsp:news.mashable

0 notes

qacoder-blog · 7 years

Text

QA Guide: Test Planning

Before we can get into the programming of QA, we must understand the core aspects of QA and its methodologies. Test planning is the first step in the QA lifecycle, so it's naturally the first thing we'll be talking about. As we discuss this, please note that every organization is different and has access to different resources, so take each piece and translate it to what you need.

Without Test Planning

As Agile flows continue to be used by more and more companies, teams need to adapt and modularize their releases. As a result, QA now has to match how agile those teams are. In my previous post, I said that QA can struggle in agile environments if the team is inexperienced or if it isn't integrated correctly. An easy sign of this struggle is the lack of test planning and/or test cases. Imagine that you are tasked with the testing of a brand new website that can manage users' roles that are used throughout the rest of the products your company provides. This was designed to centralize where your customers' admins could manage the users in their organization. Now imagine that this is the very first time you have heard about this website and haven't ever seen the portal, but they still want to release this by the end of the week. Also imagine that the documentation on features, functionality, and requirements is non-existent, or worse, inaccurate. How would you go about testing this? Not only is this an actual scenario that has happened, but this is a perfect example of how QA was not integrated within the development process correctly. At this point, there is very little time to create an effective test plan or test cases, but QA still needs to get this done.

In this situation, the tests become more exploratory than functional or integration testing, and that ultimately slows down the current release and all future QA efforts on that project. I have even seen QA teams create the test plan and test cases after it's been released because that's when they finally have time. All of this is wrong. So how do you do test planning correctly?

What is a Test Plan?

A test plan is exactly what it says. A plan of how you will be testing the subject. In order to create this plan, you need to know how the entire product works. A common misconception is that QA only works alongside the developers. Instead, QA should be working more closely with the product managers. This doesn't mean that QA doesn't work with developers at all, but the Product Manager is the unbiased unit that decides on the Product Approval before release and has all the details as to what the acceptance criteria actually is.

Because of this, the test plan will be a reflection of the product details and acceptance criteria, but instead of assigning features and development time, you assign test case writing, documentation, environment setup, and different types of testing. I like to create a literal Test Plan document that has your plan in writing. This is not only a way to protect you and your team, but it gives the developers and product managers a clear understanding of what you will be testing and how.

How To Make a Test Plan

Here's the scenario: You need to test a simple login page because each user now has a new, cookie-based token that gets passed after credential validation. The token grants permissions to the user for which content they can access, which actions they can take, and expire after 30 days.

How would you create the test plan? Let's go through the steps I train my teammates to use:

1. Evaluate the resources you have available

How many QA members do you have access to? How much time have you been given to test? Is any of it already automated? These are the kinds of questions you need to ask. Your two basic resources, time and people, will determine how much you can spend on each piece of the test plan.

2. Divide the test subject into more manageable "parts" or "sections"

For our scenario, depending on our resources, I would first split it into these parts:

a) Existing users are assigned a token on login

b) New users are assigned a token on login

c) Tokens expire after 30 days for all users

d) The assigned tokens map to the correct permissions

At this point, I see a few unknowns that I'd like to ask the Product Manager about:

a) Is there any token security you want implemented in version one of this? Having worked with tokens, I know there are ways to "mimic" or assign yourself a token. If the API does not have the proper validations, then someone who is not supposed to have access to certain permissions can basically do whatever they want.

b) What happens if a user is disabled or blocked because they missed a payment or they switched teams and need access to different features of our product? If their admins change their permissions, do they get a new token? If they do, when do they get it? Does that token get a new 30-day expiration? Do we completely delete the old token?

I'm sure there is more, but notice how there are two different cases here. The first is more of a corner case, but it is something that I have seen taken advantage of. The second is much more common, but was not pointed out in the requirements we were given. As you continue through test planning, test case creation, and even testing, questions like these will continue to come up.

For example, as you start testing, you realize that the actual login now takes considerably longer because of the additional API calls. Is there an acceptable latency benchmark that must be met or is the product manager okay with the loss of performance? Make sure you ask!

3. Determine scope and environment variables

Scope refers to what is considered relevant to the test subject. For example, should we include the test case of changing an existing user's password and then logging in? Should we include the test case of the same user trying to log in on 100 machines at the same time? There will always be an infinite amount of tests that could be done, but because we have a finite amount of resources, we must decide what falls into the test scope.

Environment variables (or platforms) are part of the test scope. Which environments should these tests be run in? When dealing with web apps, this usually comes down to browsers and browser versions. Do we run these tests in Chrome and Firefox only? Do we run these tests in Edge and Opera too? Each environment becomes a multiplier. If we decide to test five different browsers and we also want to test two different versions for each browser, then each test will need to be run ten times!

Mobile apps deal with iOS, Android, Amazon, Windows, and sometimes others. For those in the mobile space, you know that there are tons of versions for each of these (especially Android) and it's impossible to test all of them. This is why there are "supported environments" sections for many popular products.

4. Divide the parts into specific test cases

Once you have the more manageable parts, you must divide those parts into specific test cases. These will eventually become the test cases you and your team create. I will write another post to go over Test Cases, but for now, we'll use what I think is the minimum for a good test case:

a) Pre-conditions and pre-requisites - what is required to properly run the test? This is to help control the environment that the tester has. For example, "clear cache and cookies".

b) Acceptance criteria - what is the criteria that the tester needs to look out for to determine whether a test is a pass or fail? Sometimes this can be copy and pasted from what the Product Manager has detailed, but sometimes you will need to get these details by asking the Product Manager.

c) Steps - each step should have the step (or steps) to take, and the expected condition of that step. Always include screenshots or video for these. A test case should be as simple as possible and easy to follow.

For our scenario, they have decided to include the "forgot password" test case and the "admin changes user's permissions" test case. They've also decided that the token should remain the same and not reset the 30-day expiration. Since those cases deal with an existing user, we will put it under our "Existing users are assigned a token on login" section. Continue this process for the rest of your sections and you'll see an easy-to-follow hierarchy.

5. Create the Test Plan document and get it approved

Now that you have your questions answered and test sections and cases specified, you can easily create the Test Plan document. This document will be the base that you and your team use like a checklist, and you need to make sure it is easy to follow. (Remember that this document is meant to be an approved "base", but that you and your team must be able to adjust and adapt as needed.) Use the points we've discussed so far:

a) List the resources available - this is optional, but at least put the names of the members that the Product Manager and developers can rely on. It's frustrating not to know which QA members are part of the project or who the lead is.

b) List the environments - which platforms and versions you are planning to test against.

c) List the Test Sections and Test Cases - this is almost always just the names of the sections and the names of the test cases with steps. (If you have an ID or URL for these tests, then you can add them too.) For example, this would suffice for the "Existing user" section of our scenario:

Existing users are assigned a token on login

- Forgot Password flow, then login

1. Go to login page and complete forgot password flow

2. Login using new password

3. User's token should be the same

- Admin changes user's permissions

1. As an admin, change user's permissions and save

2. As the user, login

3. User's token should be the same

The benefit of getting this document looked at by the Product Manager and developers is that they can see exactly how you've determined the testing efforts and they can either make edits or approve them. The entire goal is to get everyone on the same page. The last thing you want to do in QA is assume that something "should" work this way or assume that "this is what my Product Manager would want".

Is it the end already?

Test planning is the very first step in QA and for good reason. The better you get at test planning, the more your credibility will increase and the easier your job will become.

#qa #test #test plan #test cases #quality assurance #software

0 notes

type2diabetestreatments-blog · 7 years

Text

Diabetes and Discrimination in the Workplace

New Post has been published on http://type2diabetestreatment.net/diabetes-mellitus/diabetes-and-discrimination-in-the-workplace/

Diabetes and Discrimination in the Workplace

One of the many struggles of living with a chronic illness is balancing the obligations of the disease with the requirements of employment. Many PWDs walk a fine line between managing their diabetes properly and fulfilling their work obligations. And many employers are none too sympathetic with the plight of the diabetic, whether it's accommodating glucose tests, breaks for low blood sugars or time off for doctor's appointments. What's a PWD to do? What rights do we have to when it comes to keeping ourselves healthy and able to bring home the bacon?

Kriss Halpern, known as the "Diabetes Attorney," works as a licensed attorney in the State of California. He specializes in cases on diabetes, and he has a personal stake in the cause: he has had type 1 diabetes himself since he was in college. Kriss is a recipient of the Charles H. Best Medal for Distinguished Service by the American Diabetes Association and a Certificate of Appreciation from the United States National Institutes of Health. Here's what Kriss has to say about keeping yourself protected on the job:

A Guest Post by Kriss Halpern

Diabetes is a disease that affects us each day of our lives. It can do so in ways we do not recognize at the time. It can do so in ways that are urgent and unmistakable, leaving us unable to function and in need of urgent action or even outside assistance.

The question of how diabetes impacts our ability to work, and whether diabetes is a recognized disability, subject to workplace protections, is inevitable given the role it plays, or can play, in our daily lives.

Improvements in diabetes management greatly impact these concerns. Mostly, those improvements make us healthier, and the disease easier to handle. But that is not always the case. For those of us taking insulin, it is the insulin we take that most often and immediately impacts our ability to function; not the disease directly, which alters or eliminates the insulin we produce naturally. Options available to us in the way insulin is delivered, and our ability to recognize insulin's impact on our body, have vastly improved in recent years. The tools we use to achieve those improvements are powerful, and are subject to their own risks. We need to learn to recognize those risks and manage those tools safely in all aspects of our lives, including the workplace. Employers have an obligation to allow us to do so.

It is unlawful for an employer to ask us if we are disabled in some way during the job application process. Under no circumstances is that ever proper. But that does not mean diabetes is never an issue an employer may properly ask about, and it does not mean those of us with diabetes are able to handle all jobs safely. The number and type of jobs that cannot be handled safely have greatly decreased. Jobs that would have been impossible for us to handle in years past can now be readily and successfully performed, so long as we know how to manage our diabetes and are able to avoid, recognize, and handle insulin issues that may arise. An employer has a right and even need to know about these issues, as well as an obligation to provide reasonable accommodations that let us perform our jobs safely despite them.

Once a job interview is completed, an offer may be made pending health review. For example, an applicant may readily qualify as a police or fire officer, but still need to go through a health review before a job offer is made. This is proper and lawful for any job where there is a direct relationship between health issues and the ability to perform the job.

It does not mean that health issues are a legal basis of inquiry for all jobs. If, for example, an employer is hoping to hire a long-term employee, someone to work with the business for many years, that does not give them the right to inquire about health issues in order to make some hypothetical decision about the applicant's imagined likelihood to be around in the distant future. Nor does the employer have a right to inquire about health issues because the business has concerns about adding a person with a chronic illness to a small health insurance plan. These may be logical and significant concerns for the business, but that does not make asking an applicant about health issues lawful, and basing employment decisions on them permissible.

Asking such questions, following an offer pending health review, is only lawful if there is an actual relationship between the health issue inquired about and ability to perform the job.

There is no question that insulin can affect safe driving. A business that hires people where driving is a required job duty clearly has the right, even the obligation, to ask if the job applicant or current employee is taking insulin and able to drive safely. Insulin can cause a driver to experience a low blood glucose event that prevents safe driving. A decade ago, taking insulin almost automatically meant a person would not qualify for a job as a commercial truck driver. Drivers with Type 2 diabetes were commonly refusing to take insulin recommended by their physician so they could keep a job. Their blood glucose was often extraordinarily elevated and clearly causing long-term damage, but at least they were employed and able to survive in the meantime.

Because improvements in care, and in government regulations which now take those diabetes management improvements into consideration, have changed, that scenario is no longer necessary in many cases. It is possible to show that a person's diabetes is managed safely so that the employee is not a driving safety risk.

The review of the employee or applicant must be made on an individual basis. Blanket rules without individual considerations are unlawful under both the federal Equal Employment Opportunities Act, and State laws such as California's Government Code Section 12926.1, which define diabetes as a disability subject to government protection, require employers to avoid prejudicial actions taken on the basis of a chronic illness such as diabetes.

Photo: Bernard Farrell

Proving the ability to drive a commercial vehicle safely while on insulin is not easy, but it can be done. Critical, of course, is having a physician who agrees that the patient is able to drive the requisite vehicle safely. Forms need to be filled out; tests must be passed. But it can be done, and that is better than where things stood in years past. The idea that a truck driver must live with dangerously high blood glucose in order to keep a job is no longer an absolute. In time, that will likely be a relic of antiquity that few people recall.

Several years back I represented a Type 1 pilot of a ship. He learned to use a Continuous Glucose Monitor while sailing his vessel so that he would never go low while working. He used two CGMs simultaneously while sailing so that if one stopped functioning he would have the other as a backup. He alternated the time when he changed catheters for added protection against both devices failing. That way, there would be no emergency from a catheter needing to be changed while he was piloting a ship without interruption for an extended period of time. He kept his pilot's license and is working safely while using this system.

I was diagnosed Type 1 as a sophomore in college. At the time, I was News Editor of my college paper and working on the side for another daily newspaper in Boston. My dream was to be a foreign war correspondent. After diagnosis, my endocrinologist talked with me about career goals. He told me it would make no sense for me to plan on being a war correspondent as I would be putting my own life at risk and even those around me who might need to help me if I experienced a low blood glucose event or ran out of insulin in those circumstances. I ended up going to law school.

A few years after I began practicing law, I left my job at a large law firm so I could go to Guatemala to help prove that refugees from that country were fleeing in fear of military atrocities taking place. The first time I went to remote jungle areas to find evidence about human rights abuses was in 1989, when the U.S. State Department was denying there was danger in these areas and deporting refugees back.

I witnessed the reality and returned with photographs and interviews of the daily killings and atrocities taking place. My work ended up helping win political asylum for scores of refugees; the former Immigration and Naturalization Service eventually relied on me as an expert in assessing safety risks for refugees and the truth of their claims of discrimination. I returned to Guatemala twice more to research and uncover evidence about what was happening in a then terrifying, if gorgeous, land. I did so while taking insulin. I did so safely and without putting myself or anyone else at risk because of it. In essence, I was able to fulfill the dream I had had as a teenager and prove it could be done.

Part of my work now is devoted to helping others fulfill their own work goals — to prevent diabetes from standing in the way. We have a serious illness that is not soon going to go away, but that illness should not prevent us from fulfilling our dreams — not in work, not in any other part of our lives. We can do it. The law can be used to make it happen.

Have you faced discrimination at work because of your diabetes? We would love to hear more stories about how you overcame the challenges and successfully advocated for yourself.

Disclaimer: Content created by the Diabetes Mine team. For more details click here.

Disclaimer

This content is created for Diabetes Mine, a consumer health blog focused on the diabetes community. The content is not medically reviewed and doesn't adhere to Healthline's editorial guidelines. For more information about Healthline's partnership with Diabetes Mine, please click here.

Type 2 Diabetes Treatment Type 2 Diabetes Diet Diabetes Destroyer Reviews Original Article

0 notes