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yourtoradorasextendedwarranty · 4 years

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Making a Change

I need to talk about this because it seems like most people are only making things worse. Recently we all heard what happened to George Floyd. And it spawned hashtags like #nojusticenopeace and #justice4floyd etc. What followed were several riots and lootings. This even though Floyd’s relatives said not to because George loved his community and would not have wanted to see this. So tell me? Where is the justice in that? Where is the justice in literally looting businesses, and burning down places of work?

Where is the justice for all of the black Americans you literally just put out of work, while “Sticking it to the man”. “The Man” whom has all their stuff covered in insurance. “The Man” who does not care that people are losing their jobs and might never rebuild in those places. Where exactly is the justice in hurting your own community or other’s communities. What happens when the flame go out, and the looting stops? 100′s of Americans of varying skin colors without work. With no money to pay bills. With no money to feed their kids. What comes next? These very same people that were apart of this whole ordeal, complaining about racism because they have no where to buy food. Complaining that the “White man” is keeping them down. Honestly it’s ironic how racist these people are. And by “these people” i’m referring to the rioters and looters. No matter what color they are.

And then there is the larger issue at hand. The one where YES George Floyd was in fact killed due to police brutality. By a man who has a history of doing awful shit. And should not have been on the force at all. I’ve seen this picture floating around lately as well.

You know the issue i have with it? It does not show if he had a history of mindless violence towards everyone or just minorities. Because guess what? If he did have a problem with mindless violence towards everyone no matter who it was, then everyone, LITERALLY EVERYONE, including ignorant racist people, would be like, YEAH F*CK THIS GUY! And you might say, “I DON’T WANT HELP FROM NO RACIST!” And yet the more help the better. We all know what this guy did. We all know he used excessive force. What we can’t say for certain is that the attack WAS in fact racist. And not just this POS on a power trip. Fact of the matter is, we NEED to see this as police brutality. We don’t need to see this as a racist attack. Even if it was. Fact of the matter being, if we focused less on the race aspect of it and more on the brutality of it, more people would be willing to stand up for what’s right. But the moment #BLM comes out of the wood work, people have doubts about the validity of what happened. More so considering how many of them are perpetuating the violence we are seeing.

We need to stand against brutality. We need to hold those who do use excessive force and brutality responsible for what they do. WE CAN’T do that if the first thing that happens is a rush to violence. Thing is since the early 80′s Black Americans and left leaning individuals have been brainwashed. Brainwashed into believing that the entire system of police is to be racist but it’s not. Most precincts have a very racially diverse group in them. Meaning you are calling people of your own minorities racist against yourselves. And you know what? It’s all apart of the plan. Because guess what happens next? You end up as the next headline because you go out with a vendetta against the cops. And you get gunned down. Then we repeat the cycle. And your death, is profit for 3 groups of people. The Media, Black leaders, and The Left. Think clearly for just a moment. Stop and frisk being rampped up ? Democrats. No changes to the school system in very impoverished neighborhoods? Democrats. The first to cover a cop on black death? Left wing MSM. The first to be on the ground in the area or make a speeches about what happened? Black leaders like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton. And guess what? They make money off every single book they sell back to you. Every single guest appearance on a news show or talk show. They PROFIT by keeping you under them. THEY PROFIT keeping you under the belief that all cops are racist. They profit when you riot. When you loot. When you get violent. And you do this all because you’ve been told your whole life that cops are racist. And the “The white man wants to keep you down”. YEAH Dems and Black leaders want to keep you down. Of course they do. Because Dems are the party of “Black change” that never changes. All the empty promises. Black leaders don’t want you to do better because there is no profit in that. There is no fame in that.

I want more than ANYTHING to see people succeed. No matter the ethnicity. No matter the sex, no matter the gender. We can’t do that if you don’t look at the truth. We can’t stop people who are racist unless we call out socially acceptable racism. This whole “Power vs Privilege” bullshit needs to stop. It’s a moving of the goal post. I’ve met plenty of successful black men and women in my life. And many of them told me to get to where they were, they had to put the hate behind them. They had to ignore the people that were telling them that they were being held down by “insert blank group here”. I know several people that have been killed and there was no rally for them. Do you know why? They were not the right color. So i guess their deaths don’t matter. I guess the parents or kids of black Americans don’t matter when they are killed by gang violence. Why do you think you never see it in the news? Only ever in passing or just on a local station. Because MSM does not care. The left does not care. Black Leaders don’t care. And truthfully? Most of you reading this don’t care. You just want confirmation bias that says

Cops racist

White people racist

We are always oppressed

Violence is the only way

That’s all any of you care about. If you cared about more than that you’d be trying to make a chance in your cities and town. You’d be joining the fire departments. You’d be joining the police force. You’d be joining the city council. You’d opt to make change from the inside. You’d opt to make positive change. What you would not do is break the windows of businesses in your neighborhood. Businesses some of which are owned by Black Americans that live in those places. So you are literally hurting the black community in doing what you are doing. Many of whom support the protests....right up until you attacked their income. Now they have to show they are separate from you. Now they have to spite you because they have kids and a family to support. Oh what? You think it’s ok just because it was a Target? And Auto Zone? The CEO’s of those companies are sitting pretty in their castles while you hurt others who are literally no better off than you. They are the manager of a single store. Maybe a Cashier who was living paycheck to paycheck. And you TOOK THAT from them. You took that because you could not work with others. You TOOK THAT from them because “Must hate white people”. You took that from them because “MUST HATE COPS”.

Fact is a large part of what keeps many Black Americans where they are is this line of thinking. It’s the belief that you are being forcefully kept down. And then you have men like Morgan Freeman who does not subscribe to this. Other successful black men, Black preachers etc. who live in these areas or who grew up in these places and moved past the hate. Moved past the oppression. Moved past the brainwashing and made something of themselves. I have friends that are making something of themselves. Be they musicians, business men, office workers, store owners, etc. They are trying do be their best selves.

What happened to Floyd was awful. He did not in any capacity deserve to lose his life. The cop that did it deserves to go away for life too to be made an example of. Put him in with the people he put away. We just need to stop treating every single instance of this as some racist attack. No matter the why, we need to call out brutality. We need to call out excessive force. And if you leave race out of it, more people will join in on the conversation. And guess what? If it’s found out that there is hard proof he is a racist, charge him with hate crimes and abuse of power. Put them away for life. But for the love of god, stop just claiming racism every time. All it leads to is the cop getting away with it most of the time. And it prevents instances of actual recognition when cops are actually fighting for their lives. I mean in today’s era a black man could kill a rival gang members siblings or friends and a cop could shoot them and there would be a sigh that says “Justice for *insert murderer’s name here”. Most of you do not care. BLM does not care. You just want a reason to be angry. And that’s the reason racism will keep getting worse. Because hate breeds hate. Anger breeds anger. Violence breeds violence.

#george floyd #no justice no peace

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thesickpanda · 5 years

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Medical Gaslighting

As I scroll through my Tumblr feed, I come across innumerable stories from fellow spoonies who have experienced mistreatment, neglect, abuse and disbelief from the medical institution. I recoil in both horror and in painful empathy as I read the stories, because they are all too familiar and terrible.

It's hard to understate how exhausting and upsetting it is to be questioned on your chronic illness, to be lectured by doctors who know nothing about what you’re going through or even the latest research on your particular condition. It's horrible to suffer something so disabling and debilitating, only to be told that you're not disabled enough to qualify for concessions, finance or support. It's bad enough that friends and family often don't believe us or make accommodations, but it is a truly desperate feeling when the very people who took an oath to help you and do no harm actively dismiss, deride or bully you.

I'd like to list my own examples of what I term “medical gaslighting”, both as a personal record and as a contribution to those stories.

Example One:

It is my first year living in Australia. I moved to this country already suffering from debilitating pain. I had previously been diagnosed with Myofascial Pain Syndrome in the UK; however, even the rheumatologist said it did not account for all my symptoms. The pain had grown a great deal worse, and it had started spreading to other parts of my body. I went to go and see my partner's family doctor. I explained how badly my back ached, that I had a two year history of this pain and that I really want to get to the bottom of it and find some relief. His response? "Everybody gets back pain. Take painkillers and just deal with it." I came away from the appointment stunned and disappointed. This was not the first time I have felt as if my condition was not being treated seriously; however, it was the bluntest delivery of this sentiment. Little did I know this was an experience I was going to have repeatedly…

Example Two:

I have been on the waiting list for a public pain clinic for many months. In order to have access to the pain psychologist and physiotherapist, I need to have an assessment by the resident pain clinician. This man is a dinosaur. He looks to be in his 80s. His thinking is about that old, too. He tells me I need to go on anti-depressants. I tell him that I have been on SSRIs before and that I have always had severe side-effects and that they have never made any difference to my pain. I also tell him that I am not suffering from depression. Yes, the pain is wearing me down but I know what depression feels like and I don't currently have it. He tells me that if I want to go on the pain course and have any hope and improving, I absolutely must do what he says. When I try to express my concerns, he bullies and emotionally blackmails me to accept. I don't want to miss out on the rest of the program, especially as I feel desperate and don't know what else to do, so I begrudgingly start taking the antidepressants. And so begins a four-year horror fest of dreadful side-effects, appalling and long-lasting withdrawal symptoms, and of course no pain relief. To say that I hate this man is an understatement. Not only did his “advise” me down the wrong path, he made an already uncomfortable experience so much worse (and with NO warning of the side/withdrawal effects, either…).

Example Three:

I ask the pain psychologist whether or not he thinks severe childhood trauma and PTSD could contribute to my chronic pain. He dismisses the notion out of hand. Turns out, there's plenty of research to suggest this and that it is not a ridiculous notion by any stretch. I knew this, because I had been reading some of the latest peer-reviewed journals on the subject. But as I soon learned, the so-called experts were not keeping abreast of the research. They were, on average 15 years behind it. Not like I would know anything about my own illness!

Example Four:

At a different stage in my life, I do wind up depressed, but that is because I have just lost a close family member, my relationship is breaking down, and the pain has reached agonising levels. I wind up in hospital after an attempted suicide with a knife. I am put in a room and made to wait seven hours before anyone see me. The only person who comes in is a nurse who tells me that I'm not a priority because “there are real sick people” who need real attention from doctors. The room is full of sharp objects.

Example Five:

When I do get a name for my condition, Fibromyalgia, I soon learn that not everybody believes Fibromyalgia is a real illness in and of its own right. My GP in particular likes to tell me it is a diagnosis of exclusion. Now, I understand that many things need to be excluded before one can arrive at the conclusion that it is Fibromyalgia; however, when she says it she puts it in that dustbin of "medically unexplained symptoms" because Fibromyalgia is just a word for that in her books. Meaning, she doesn't recognise it as its own disease and therefore doesn't know anything more about it. There is a lot of research coming out at the moment that indicates Fibromyalgia might be immune based, among other things. It is also being recognised in some parts of the world as its own disease. It is beyond frustrating to be told that I am just one of those people that have aches and pains that aren't really based on anything and therefore don't warrant much support or understanding. This is a recurring problem with my GP and other doctors. I have heard it called “the fakers disease” and have been told by perfect strangers that it's all in my head and that if I just had a positive attitude I could get over it. I know that this is a universal experience faced by all people with chronic illnesses, but getting it from your doctor is particularly hurtful and frustrating.

Example Six:

The disability employment agency that I go to tells me that I'm too ill to put into paid work because I will not make for a reliable worker. The government tells me I'm not disabled enough to qualify for any financial support. All of the burden falls to my partner who, lucky for me, is a great guy. However, the tens of thousands of dollars we spend every year on medical bills mean that we will never have enough for a deposit for our own home, nor can we easily afford appliances, holidays, events or even gifts for family at Xmas. Literally all his disposable income goes on medical expenses. We have very few savings to speak and rent in one most expensive parts of the world. When my partner asks my GP for a carer’s card to give him small concessions on life's little luxuries, like going to the movies, he is told that because I am not in a wheelchair and a paraplegic, I do not qualify and neither does he. We are constantly being told that I am not disabled enough to qualify for anything: not government support, not concessions -zilch. The only thing that we have received from the Roads and Traffic Authority has been a disabled sticker for the car. And thank Christ for that!

Example Seven:

When I tell the exercise physiologist that I am seeing that I don't think it's a good idea for me to do the types of exercises he's giving me in 40° heat (back then we live in a rough area and the local gym has no air-conditioning) he tells me it's fine and I should do what I'm told. He shows me some exercises to do and then rushes off to see one of his five other customers he’s treating at same time in the same hour. I go into a full spasm because guess what? Extreme heat and exercise do not go together. Even the Bureau of Meteorology tells people not to do strenuous activities on 40° days. But my exercise physiologist, who again seems to know nothing about Fibromyalgia, thinks this is just peachy. Twice I go into flare with this man. One day, he is on leave and his immediate boss comes in to take me for my sessions. His boss watches all the exercises that I have been doing for six month. He tells me I'm doing them all wrong. I tell him that this is how his colleague taught me to do them. He again tells me they're all wrong. I terminate their “services” (read: scam). Exercise physiology is not covered by medical insurance so I have literally spent thousands of dollars on a program that has put me into spasms and done little to nothing to help me with my pain.

Example Eight:

I see a number of different psychologists over the years; often this is not by choice as we either move away or they do. I have seen good psychologists and very bad ones. On more than one occasion, psychologists asked me if I “identify with my illness”. I know this trick question. When I go to them to ask for help on how to deal with the psychological ramifications of coping with a debilitating, continuously worsening and disabling illness, something I am not permitted to speak about with friends and family lest they dismiss me/tell me I’m being depressing, I am told that I identify too strongly with my illness. It seems like you are literally not allowed to complain or express dismay about being sick and sore every waking second of your life to anyone. It should not, apparently, be taking any psychological toll on you and if it is it's because you have decided that it must. I have been told this by both able-bodied and disabled psychologists. Ableism is not exclusive to the able-bodied. Disability is a spectrum: people with chronic illnesses of different sorts face different struggles. I feel as if no place is safe. I give up on therapy and start reading self-care books and following these Tumblrs because I get more validation and assistance from the Internet that I have ever had from a real-life human being getting f-ing paid to counsel me.

These are just some of countless stories I could tell. Having to fight to be believed every day, from the second you get out of your car in a disabled park and have people challenge you, to trying to explain why, to your friends, you needs to take the lift and not the stairs, to begging your doctor or the government for basic concessions, to sobbing over bills that mount up because of all the mobility aids, medicines and treatments you've been taking… This is exhausting beyond description. And after years and years and years of it, you begin to feel a bit hopeless.

So to all my fellow spoonies posting on these Tumblrs: thank you. I am always sad to read the terrible experiences you go through, but it does give me some sense of connectedness and unity when I know that there are others fighting just like I am fighting. I appreciate the advice that is shared in this space and the posts of validation and comfort that we just don't receive from the people in our lives. Thank goodness for this community. I don't know how I would have coped at all, if not for you.

Feel free to share your own stories of medical gaslighting with me. Sometimes it helps to vent.

#gaslighting #medical gaslighting #chronic illness #spoonie #that spoonie feel #Fibromyalgia #myofascial pain syndrome #chronic pain #ableism

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write-havoc · 6 years

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The Glasswing Butterfly Part 3

Summary: Chuck has never thought of herself as anything special. Just an average beta living her life next door to a womanizing alpha named Negan. But her life, and Negan’s too, are turned upside down when Chuck suddenly presents as omega.

This is a non-zombie AU featuring A/B/O dynamics.

Fandom: The Walking Dead AU

Pairing: Negan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

The war between Chuck and Negan wanes after their encounter in the elevator. Chuck finds herself too preoccupied to really care about it after everything she went through. Not only does she have several days of work to get caught up on, but she also has a ton of information on her new status to absorb.

Chuck realizes pretty quickly that she is woefully ill informed about the group she has found herself in. She had a cursory course in her high school health class on omega physiology. Then in her college American history class, she learned a tiny bit about the omega civil rights movement in the 80s. But it really wasn’t a whole lot, so she had some information to get caught up on.

Before the 80s, omegas really didn’t have any rights. They couldn’t vote, had no representation in government, and actually weren’t considered real citizens. It wasn’t exactly illegal for omegas to hold jobs or own property, but it wasn’t illegal for employers to refuse to hire them or for banks to refuse loans either. So, really, omegas had no choice but to mate early to survive, usually just after presenting in their early teens. And it was perfectly legal for a fully grown alpha to claim a newly presented omega. Non consensual claiming was legal in most states, too. A claim bonds and alpha and omega together when the alpha bites the scent gland on the omega’s neck, thus changing her scent for life. So the omega is bonded to the alpha for the rest of her life. And it truly horrifies Chuck that forced claiming was legal not even a generation ago.

But things had changed quickly in the last forty years. Though there is still some prejudice, the current state of things for omegas is definitely the best in the entire history of the country. So at least Chuck can breathe a sigh of relief about that. She doesn’t have to worry about being fired immediately or being kicked out of her apartment because she’s now an omega. And any alpha that forces a claim on an omega gets life in prison. Advances in medicine also has made it possible to break a claim, if one is forced. It is difficult, but still possible.

During the time that Chuck is wrapping her head around her new status, Negan is busy avoiding the omega next door at all costs. And it’s not because her mother threatened him. No, it’s because every fiber of his being wants to do anything but avoid her. And that scares him.

He was mated, once. Married to an omega for ten years, his Lucille. But she had died a decade ago. And part of him died, too. People say that alphas don’t feel the bond of a claim like omegas do, since they technically aren’t the ones that get claimed, but he felt his mate die. Like it was his own body giving out on him.

He never wants to feel that again. Ever. So he hasn’t been with any omegas since Lucille died. And he’s not planning on changing that. No matter how much of a pull he feels to Chuck.

So when he comes into the building and Chuck is picking up her mail, he rushes to the stairwell so he doesn’t get caught in the elevator with her. Or when she leaves her apartment to do laundry, he jumps in the shower to stop him from smelling her scent wafting underneath his door. He even tries not to be so loud in case the girl would confront him about it. Because he’s not too sure how much he would be able to control himself if she showed up at his door.

Chuck leaves her apartment for her follow up with Dr. Bailey and it’s the first time she’s out alone since she presented. Diane couldn’t get the day off to be with her daughter, though she tried. But Chuck said that everything would be fine and for Diane not to worry. Even though Chuck is pretty nervous, herself, about it. But she doesn’t let that on.

When Chuck steps up into the bus and takes her seat, she can feel eyes on her. It isn’t really a very long ride to the medical center, but it starts to feel like forever as an uncomfortable silence makes its way through the vehicle. Chuck knows it’s because of her. Though scents aren’t as important to betas, they can still easily tell the difference between alphas, betas, and omegas by the way they smell, especially in an enclosed space. And the rarity of omegas means that it’s very likely that Chuck is the first one these people have encountered in quite some time.

Chuck isn’t used to the attention, being much more accustomed to fading into the background. So the bus ride isn’t exactly a comfortable one for her. But nothing major happens and she gets to the doctor’s office in time for her appointment.

Dr. Bailey goes over Chuck’s lab results and does a thorough exam. The checkup isn’t just for Chuck’s medical records, though. One of the many things that changed in Chuck’s life with her presentation is her medical insurance coverage. Diane had spent hours on the phone with Chuck’s insurance company getting everything changed over to an “omega plan” and setting everything up. Part of getting the new coverage requires the results of a full exam to be sent back to the company.

Something that filled Chuck with dread was when she overheard her mother negotiating visits to the alpha brothel for her heats. The prospect was endlessly embarrassing for Chuck. Not only was she probably going to have to sleep with a complete stranger in a few months time, for money, no less, but it was being discussed by her mother and some insurance brokers. Chuck had always heard that “first times” were usually awkward, but this surely has to take the cake.

In the end, Diane informed Chuck that visits to Alpha For You would be completely covered by her insurance. Mainly because it was cheaper than spending several days in the hospital. But, of course, if need be, insurance would also cover the hospital stay. With a higher co-pay, though.

After the doctor finishes up with the exam, she gives Chuck more pamphlets to look over. “Here is some more info for you to read over regarding the medical side of being a newly presented omega.” She gets up from her chair and opens the door. “But, you’re doing really well with all this,” she says with a smile. “Don’t hesitate to call if anything arises or you have any questions.”

Chuck leaves the medical center a little relieved. The experience wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be. And Dr. Bailey has a way about her that puts Chuck at ease. Unfortunately, Chuck’s relaxed feeling doesn’t last too long.

As soon as Chuck steps back on the bus to go home, she can smell that there is an alpha on board. It’s faint, but in the enclosed space of the bus, it’s not hard to pick out. Not wanting to draw any more attention than she did in her first bus ride, Chuck takes an empty seat right by the door, hoping that no one would notice her.

“Hey, omega,” someone calls out from the back of the bus in a loud voice.

Of course, I can’t just be lucky, Chuck thinks.

She knows it’s the alpha calling out to her, but she really doesn’t want to deal with it. So she just ignores him.

“Hey, omega,” he tries again. “Come sit back here.”

Chuck can feel her whole face get hot as the blood pools just under her skin in embarrassment. Everyone can hear the man. And everyone knows exactly who he’s talking to. Still, Chuck just ignores it and hangs her head, waiting for the bus to get to her stop.

“Move,” the same deep voice rings out again, but now it’s right beside Chuck. The elderly man that had been sitting to her left immediately gets up and is replaced by a tall, muscular built man in his early twenties. He looks like a quintessential douchey frat guy.

Chuck moves to stand from the seat, but the alpha pulls her back down by the elbow.

“Come on, omega. Why you being so rude?” he rasps as he pulls Chuck into his side.

“Please... let go of me,” Chuck pleads quietly. “I-I just want to go home.”

“Where’s home, omega? I can escort you.” He leans down into her space and breathes in deep. “You smell good,” he growls out.

Chuck tries to lean away from him, but his hold on her is too tight. Being this close to him, Chuck has no choice but to breathe in his scent, too. And it’s not at all appealing to her. Granted, she’s really only smelled one alpha and his smell is so much more... attractive than the alpha beside her. This guy smells more like spoiled milk and b.o.

“Leave me alone,” she tries again and pushes him away as hard as she can. But it’s really no use. The alpha is much bigger and certainly much stronger than she is.

The alpha takes Chuck by the shoulders and growls right in her face. “Know your fucking place, knot-slut.”

In her peripheral vision, Chuck can see everyone on the bus turn their heads away. They know that it would be dangerous for them to step between an alpha and the thing he wants. And he knows that, too. That’s why he’s so brazenly acting this way in full view of everyone. Chuck understands why no one is interfering, but she still hopes someone will come forward and get her out of this situation.

“I’m gonna take you home with me and I’ll show you a real good time, little omega,” the alpha hisses through his teeth.

Chuck’s whole body goes stiff as pure fear shoots through her veins. Is this really going to happen to her? What if this alpha goes through with it? Would her hurt her? Claim her?

Chuck is so frightened that she doesn’t even realize that the bus is stopped. But when a new loud voice calls out, she turns away from the alpha gripping her to face it.

“Let go of the omega, sir,” an alpha police officer demands.

Unbeknownst to Chuck or her alpha attacker, the bus driver had seen what was going on behind her and had notified the authorities discretely. Two officers, an alpha and a beta female were dispatched to intercept the bus at the next stop.

“Really?” the alpha questions the officer. “You know they were put here for us,” he spits out, referring to the omega still in his grasp. “Those ‘Omega Lib’ laws are a crock of shit! How does it feel to betray your own kind, pussy alpha?”

The other cop steps forward, her hand hovering over her taser. “You can either walk off this bus right now and get on with your day, or we cuff you and take you to the station.”

The alpha lets out a huff, but unhands Chuck and stands from his seat. “Omega cunt,” he says under his breath.

The alpha cop escorts the man off of the bus while the beta cop checks on Chuck.

“Are you okay?” she asks matter of factly.

“Uh...” Chuck clears her throat. “Y-Yeah. I’m okay.”

“If he hurt you, you could press charges.”

Chuck just wants to put this all behind her. “No. I’m fine. I just want to get home.”

“Okay, miss.” The officer turns away and exits the bus.

When the bus starts up again, Chuck makes the decision to skip her stop and get off on the one closest to a car dealership that she’s passed a ton of times. Because there’s absolutely no way she’s going to set foot on public transportation again after this.

During the short walk from the bus stop to the dealership, Chuck takes a bunch of deep breaths and tries to rid her mind of what she just went though. She doesn’t want to be all weepy and emotional while negotiating with a salesman. So she pumps herself up, says a few mantras, and pushes open the smudge free glass doors of the shiny showroom.

Chuck has no idea that she’s about to run into the man that has been trying his hardest not to see her.

Negan had worked at Adams Auto Sales for just over a decade. It’s not exactly his dream job, but it pays the bills and he’s good at it. It was actually the first job he interviewed for after he had moved into his apartment. And back then, he wasn’t exactly picky. Really, at that time, he barely cared about living.

After his mate had died, he just wanted to get away from everything in his life. So he sold their house immediately. Everything in it was like it was saturated with Lucille, so it had to go. Then he quit his job. That actually was his dream job. Teaching kids. He was the phys ed teacher and baseball coach for a high school not far from his former home. He loved it. It made him happy. And because he felt like he didn’t deserve any more happiness, it had to go, too.

Within three months of Lucille dying, he had moved into the first apartment he found and took the first job that would take him. And he’s lived with those decisions for ten years.

Negan knows the second that the omega next door sets foot in the showroom where he’s currently pouring himself a cup of coffee. He slowly turns around to see the girl walking into the large open space, her head moving from side to side as she takes in the sights. The moment that she realizes he is also there is written all over her face.

Chuck pauses her motion into the room when she sees Negan approaching her. She is already having a bad day, so a run in with her neighbor outside of their shared building really isn’t necessary. “What are you doing here?” she asks before thinking.

“I work here,” he answers with just as much attitude as she gave him. “What are you doing here?”

“You work here?” Chuck repeats.

“Yes,” he drags out.

Chuck huffs out a a breath. “Well...” She feels pretty stupid now, so she just tries to move past it. “I need a car.”

He stares at her for a few moments before responding. “You’ve come to the right place.”

They both stand there blinking at each other, neither of them knowing how to proceed with this. Should Chuck find a different employee to help her? Should he? Should Chuck and Negan still hate each other? Should they bury the hatchet? Should they just continue to ignore one another? They get an answer of sorts when another person walks up to them.

“Negan?” the middle aged alpha calls out. “Maybe I should handle this sale.”

The first thing that goes through Negan’s mind is to push this alpha out of the way wrap the omega up in his arms, covering her with his own scent. But, of course, Negan doesn’t do any of that because the alpha now standing next to him is his boss, Thomas Adams, and Negan doesn’t want to get fired.

As soon as the new alpha makes his presence known, Chuck instinctively takes a step towards Negan, almost standing behind him. She’s completely unaware of the movement, though, her body working on its own. But it’s not hidden from either alpha, both of which know what it means.

Thomas looks from the omega to Negan, who now has a smug grin plastered on his face. “You know what?” he says, trying to hide his annoyance from the rejection. “You can handle this, Negan.” He turns and walks away from the pair.

When Chuck tilts her head up to look at Negan, she realizes that she’s much closer to him than she thought. She sidesteps away from him and clears her throat.

“So,” Negan calls out, still with that smug grin on his face, “what kinda car you looking for?”

It becomes apparent to Negan fairly quickly that Chuck pretty much knows nothing about cars as she peruses the lot. “You ever bought a car before, sweetheart?” he asks as he follows her.

“Yes,” she answers quickly.

He raises his eyebrows at her, not exactly believing it.

“I bought a car my senior year of high school,” she bites back. But she knows what he means. “It was a used car that I spent 700 bucks on,” she admits.

“That’s what I thought.” Normally, dealing with a person like Chuck brings dollar signs bouncing before Negan’s eyes. He could always talk people into features that they really didn’t need. But for some reason, Negan doesn’t take advantage of the girl’s ignorance regarding horsepower and antilock brakes and the like. She said she wanted a car that was safe and could get her around the city, no bells and whistles required. To he stuck to showing her cars on the cheaper end of the scale.

As Chuck walks around looking at the section of cars Negan had pointed out to her, he is busy watching her. She looks completely different now than she had before. Not that she really was different , but it was more her attitude. Instead of scowling at him or stomping away from him, she’s lost in thought, considering her car options with her bottom lip between her teeth.

She’s cute, but not exactly his type. Considering that his type is the kind of woman that would go home with him after just a few drinks. This girl isn’t like that. At all.

But she’s cute. Really cute, actually, with her freckles and her big green eyes. And Negan always had a thing for natural redheads.

“Negan?” She draws him out of his thoughts. “I think I like this one.” She points to the sensible sedan in front of her.

He walks toward her with a smile on his face. “Any preference on color?”

“Um.” She turns back and looks over the options. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. They all look nice.” She looks up to him standing beside her. “It’s not like any of them are neon green or anything.”

“Ahem.” He taps her on the shoulder prompting her to turn around and points across the way to a car that is, indeed, the worst shade of neon green.

Chuck laughs. “God, that’s ugly.”

Negan can’t help but laugh, too, as the girl’s face lights up with a genuine smile. “Did you just change your mind?” he jokes.

“Oh, definitely,” she answers sarcastically. “That ugly thing over there is my dream car.”

Negan chuckles at her quick response and turns back to the car she had pointed out. “I always thought the red ones looked the fuckin’ best out of this line.” He gestures to the car.

Chuck nods. “Okay.”

“So why don’t we test drive the red one.”

As Chuck leisurely drives her prospective new car through the city with Negan in the passenger seat, she smiles at the friendly atmosphere. Never would she have expected that she would almost enjoy Negan’s company, but he has proven that he can be a sort of good guy. He actually helped her with picking the car, and he’s even offering it at a fair price (a quick google search while Negan was getting the keys told Chuck that). He’s also really charming and funny when he’s not being a jerk.

As she stops the car at a congested intersection, her eyes flick over to her passenger. When she sees that he is staring squarely back at her, she instantly averts her gaze to the windshield once again. Her cheeks quickly blush as she beats herself up for being so stupid.

Negan lets out a deep chuckle at her reaction. “How are you liking the car?” he asks with a wide grin on his face.

“I like the ride,” she answers quickly, but realizes that that sounds weird. “I mean, it rides good. Rides well !” She corrects herself. “It’s- I- It’s nice. I like it.” Now her ears are burning hot in embarrassment.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the ride,” he responds without missing a beat.

“Um... Thank you...?” Chuck replies quietly.

They sit in silence for a few minutes as Chuck barely inches the car forward in the rush hour traffic. With Negan sitting beside her, his scent filling the small space, and with the way he’s been treating her today, she actually starts to feel butterflies in her stomach for the first time is a very long while. It’s pleasant and exciting. And just as she starts to really accept the new feeling, he opens his mouth.

“So... how are you an omega, anyway?” he blurts out.

The butterflies instantly die leaving behind a sour feeling. All the good will Negan has garnered with Chuck evaporates away with that one question. Her face instantly falls and she ducks her head to hide just how embarrassing the topic is to her.

“I don’t want to talk about it with you, Negan,” she responds in the most diplomatic way she can muster, just trying to hold onto those nice feelings she just had.

“Why not?” he responds simply.

The fact that he looks genuinely confused at the notion that she wouldn’t want to talk about something so personal has her embarrassment turning into rage. “ Why not ?” she repeats searingly.

Her tone has him getting angry, too. “Yeah. Why not ?” he stresses again.

Chuck just wishes that the traffic would clear out so she can get back to the dealership, but there’s no such luck. She inches the car forward one car length and gets stopped again. “It’s not exactly your business, is it?” she finally adds.

“Well,” he lets out a huff, “it kinda is my fucking business.”

She whips her head to look at him. “How do you figure that?” she spits back.

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid, little girl. You know damn well why.”

She lets out a huff in shock. Not really because of how he’s acting, but because she let herself think for one second that he might be a good guy. “What I know is that two weeks ago, you didn’t even know I existed . Even though I’ve been living next door to you for four,” she shoves her hand showcasing four fingers into his face,” years. Then, when you do realize I’m an actual person, you make sure that I know just how much you hate me everyday. And now that you know I’m an omega, I’m just supposed to open up and tell you my whole life story?”

“I didn’t fuckin’ ask for your life story,” he spits back. “I just asked how you were a beta one minute and a goddamn omega the next! Do you really fuckin’ blame me for asking?! It’s a big fuckin’ deal.”

“It’s not your deal!” she screams. When her words are punctuated with car horns, Chuck realizes that the traffic has let up and she can drive. So she does, making her way straight back to the dealership. Negan and Chuck rush through the paperwork to finalize the sale with very few words uttered between them and go their separate ways.

That night, Negan decides to unwind at his favorite watering hole, named The Outlaw Pub. It’s just a couple of blocks from his apartment building, so he found it easily right after he moved in. That’s when he met the owner, Simon.

Since Negan spends so much time in Simon’s establishment, the two alphas build up something like a friendship. They don’t exactly hang out outside of the bar, but they talk and are friendly with each other.

“You look like shit,” Simon comments when Negan takes his usual seat at the bar. “Rough day?” Simon doesn’t even ask what Negan wants, he just starts to pour a double bourbon, knowing that that’s what Negan would order.

“Yeah.” Negan drags his hand over his face before propping his elbows up on the bar. “Something like that.”

Despite the fact that Simon is the closest thing Negan has to a friend, he doesn’t want to discuss exactly what’s bothering him. Mainly because what’s bothering him is his neighbor and the fight they had earlier when she showed up at his work. Especially because Negan never told Simon that the girl next door, the one that he’s complained about before, is now an omega. An unmated omega. And Simon is an unmated alpha.

There is no way that Negan is going to advertise the whereabouts of a single omega to anyone, even to his friend.

Simon pushes the drink in front of Negan. “Are you looking for a distraction?” Simon nods his head in the direction of a group of giggly women. “Bachelorette party.”

Negan turns around to look at the women. “Fuck yeah.” Negan starts to grin. “Think I can get two to come home with me? Get some threesome action?”

“No fuckin’ way,” Simon scoffs.

“Bet you twenty fuckin’ bucks I can.”

Simon laughs and shakes his head. “You’re on.”

Negan takes the glass from the bar, downs it, and gives Simon a wink before he approaches the women.

When Negan leaves the bar, Simon’s wallet is exactly twenty dollars lighter.

Chuck finds herself sitting in the fancy lobby of the Alpha For You office a few days later. Her insurance company had set this appointment up for her, so she really has very little choice in the matter. Despite her nerves about the situation, she did what she was told, completing the questionnaire in the Alpha For You app yesterday and showing up for the appointment, of course.

“Charlotte?” A pretty, well-dressed beta woman comes out from a hallway and motions for her. “Right this way.”

Chuck stands and follows her. “You can call me Chuck.”

“Certainly, Chuck. My name is Sophia and I will be guiding you through the process.” They continue to walk down a long and winding hallway. “We’ve taken the results of your survey and have picked out five candidate for you to choose from. Did you read their profiles in the app?”

“Yup,” Chuck answers, trying to sound casual. In actuality, Chuck has the alphas’ information memorized. The moment the app had brought them up, Chuck had read and reread their profiles. She thought that if she knew about the alpha that she would ultimately sleep with, it would be less awkward.

“Great!” They finally get to a door and pause outside of it. “We just like to have you meet our alphas here, face to face, to start the selection process.”

Chuck is suddenly very nervous and second guessing her choice to do this all alone. Her mother had offered to accompany her here, but Chuck thought it would be more awkward to have to choose someone to get her through her heats with her mother right beside her. “Oh... Uhh... okay.”

Sophia lays her soft hand on Chuck’s shoulder. “Don’t be nervous. We all know about your unique situation and we’re all determined to give you the care you need.”

“Okay.” Chuck lets out a deep breath and waits for Sophia to open the door.

The room beyond the door is just as lavish as the waiting room. Expensive furniture makes up the sitting area in the center with a full bar behind it. And, of course, there are five alphas milling around the room.

“Would you like a drink?” Sophia asks as she leads Chuck further in.

“Uh... no, thank you.” Chuck takes her seat in the chair that Sophia indicates.

The alphas, one by one, step forward, introduce themselves (Brian, Casey, Trevor, Jamie, and Miles), and shake Chuck’s hand. They are all between their early twenties and early thirties and fairly handsome. Not to mention, they’re all over over six feet tall. Those facts are in their profiles, but now that Chuck sees them in person, she realizes just how big and intimidating they all are. And it does nothing for her nerves.

Sophia gestures to the couches and the men take their seats. She takes the chair right beside Chuck and turns to her. “Am I right in assuming that you would be more comfortable employing the same alpha for every heat? Some women like variety, but most want familiarity.”

“Uh... Yeah. That’s- I would rather have the same one,” Chuck answers meekly.

Sophia gives Chuck a friendly smile. “Would you like to ask them any questions.”

Chuck shakes her head. Of course she has questions, but she’s so nervous right now, she doesn’t really want to voice them.

Sophia seems to recognize this. “It’s okay, Chuck. We’re here to make sure everything is perfect for you.”

“O-Okay. Uh... The app- The profiles didn’t say if, uh... if any of them had ever, um, been with an omega for her, you know, first time.”

Sophia nods in understanding. “Your situation is unique. Most of our clientele is made up of betas that want the alpha experience. Our omega clients are mainly older omegas who have lost their mate. We do have a few younger omegas that can’t take suppressants for various other reasons, but... None of our alphas here have ever been an omega’s first alpha.”

Chuck nods. She had hoped that some of the alphas would have experience with that. That maybe if they did, they would make it easier on her.

Sophia continues. “But these alphas are among the gentlest we have. And I assure you, they will be very attentive to your needs.”

Chuck nods again. “Okay.”

Sophia holds her arm out to the alphas. “Why don’t you scent them?”

Chuck doesn’t exactly know what she means. “Scent?”

“Some alphas aren’t as compatible with an omega as others,” Sophia explains. “An omega can usually tell in the alpha’s scent.”

“Oh, okay.” Chuck hesitantly stands from her seat and moves to the first alpha on the left, Jamie.

He tilts his head to the side to give Chuck better access. The easiest way for Chuck to properly scent the alphas is to get close to one of their scent glands, located in the neck and wrists.

Knowing that she will have to get so close to these men has Chuck giggling nervously. “Sorry. I’m-I’m nervous.”

“It’s okay, darling,” Jamie comments gently. “Take your time.”

Chuck bends down closer to his exposed neck and inhales. He smells good, actually.

Not as good as Negan.

Chuck shakes the thought out of her head and moves to Casey. He smells okay. Not exactly bad, but not exactly good either. More like a subtle body wash smell. The next alpha, Miles smells the best, yet. Well, the best out of these alphas, anyway. Once again, Chuck scolds herself for letting her alpha neighbor worm his way into her thoughts.

Chuck bends down close to Brian, but instantly shoots back at his scent and covers her nose. He smells like hot garbage and roadkill. “I’m sorry,” Chuck apologizes quickly to him.

The rest of the alphas chuckle at her reaction to Brian, who stands from his seat and shakes Chuck’s hand. “It was nice meeting you.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“

“It’s okay, Chuck. I don’t take it personally. You can’t help how you react to my scent.” Brian leaves, knowing that his part in this process is over.

Trevor is last and his scent is similar to Jamie’s. Pretty good, but not the best. With that all done, Chuck stands in front of the men, not sure what else to do.

“Do-“ Chuck turns back to Sophia. “Do they need to smell me?”

Sophia shakes her head. “Even though alphas can be more sensitive to scents, they tend to be less picky about them than omegas. I’m sure you smell fine to them.”

“Oh. Ok.” Chuck sits back down in her chair.

“Are you okay with moving forward with these four?” Sophia asks Chuck.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Sophia gives her that friendly smile again. “Then the next thing we like to do is to have the alphas visit you in your home. Usually, when an omega is in their own space, they find it easier to make the choice as to who they want to let into that space. We can set up the appointments in the app, probably within the next few days. We were told we still have maybe a couple of months before your heat, but we want to get all of this out of the way as quickly as possible.”

“Yeah. That sounds good,” Chuck agrees.

True to Sophia’s word, the company sets up an appointment the next day with Trevor. Of course, Chuck is nervous to have him in her apartment, but it goes well. He’s polite and very informative for the hour or so that he stays. But when it’s time for him to leave, Chuck isn’t sure if he’s the right one.

At the same time that Chuck sees Trevor out of her apartment, Negan is just entering his. Their eyes meet momentarily, but Chuck quickly looks away and closes her door.

Negan is frozen in place though, watching the strange alpha exit Chuck’s apartment and head down the hallway. He doesn’t like it. At all.

He stomps across the hall and lifts his fist up to knock on her door, but he stops himself.

What the fuck am I doing? She can do whatever the hell she wants. Fuck whoever she wants. It doesn’t fuckin’ bother me, he lies to himself.

The next day, the agency sets up two appointments, one with Jamie and one with Miles. Though they’re the two best smelling alphas of all the prospects, Chuck finds that their personalities don’t mesh well with hers. Not that they were unprofessional in their separate meetings, but they just weren’t the ones.

Though Negan tries to ignore the the fact that two separate alphas today had encroached on his territory, plus one yesterday, it does bother him. A lot, actually. But he buries it, not really wanting to admit that it is indeed bothering him.

Chuck is a little dejected before her appointment with Casey the next day. The other alphas were okay , but she just really didn’t see herself actually sleeping with them. But Casey is actually different. He’s goofy and makes her laugh. Even though he doesn’t have that strong alpha scent that makes her body react, he puts her at ease.

When he leaves, Chuck has a lot to think about. Should she go for one of the ones that are more compatible with her body? Or should she consider the ones that is more compatible with her personality?

While Chuck is ruminating on that, Negan is pacing his apartment. The omega next door had let yet another strange alpha into her apartment. And Negan is having a hard time dealing with it.

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” he growls out loud. Before he even realizes what he’s doing, his fist pounds on the door next door.

The loud noise makes Chuck jump, but she steadies herself and answers the door. She doesn’t even get anything out before Negan starts.

He does actually try to hold back his rage, but his voice still comes out somewhat raised. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Chuck rolls her eyes and tries to close the door on him, but he places his large hand on it to stop the motion. “What are you doing, Negan?!”

He knows that she’s scared and it sobers him. He takes in a deep breath and removes his hand from the door. “Why are you bringing alphas up here?” he asks in an even tone.

His change in demeanor has Chuck more confused than scared now. “What?”

“I don’t want you bringing alphas up here.”

Now she’s actually angry. “It’s a good thing that I don’t care what you want then, isn’t it?”

Negan leans in towards her, but doesn’t raise his voice. “This is my home and I should have a fucking say.”

Chuck holds her ground. “This is my home and I say you don’t.”

Negan stands up straight and chuckles darkly. “Your mommy know that you’re presenting that omega pussy for any alpha you meet?” He knows it’s the asshole thing to do. Or rather, he knows it after he says it. In actuality, he’s just not being able to deal with the thought that she’s sleeping with any alpha that isn’t him. No matter how much he tries to lie to himself that that’s not the case

Chuck reels back in shock then slaps the man across the face. “I hate you, Negan!” Her eyes immediately fill with tears. “You’re the worst person I’ve ever met!”

“Real fuckin’ mature, little girl,” he growls.

“Get out of my face!”

“All those alphas know that you act like a spoiled fuckin’ eight year old outside of the bedroom? They only care about popping their fuckin’ knot, though, right?”

“Leave me alone!” Chuck shoves Negan as hard as she can, but he barely moves. “I hate you more than anything!” She pushes him again and this time, he steps back enough that Chuck can slam the door in his face.

Chuck spends the whole rest of the night sobbing loudly into her pillows. And Negan spends the whole rest of the night listening to her.

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nane-anime-art · 5 years

Photo

Long rant about my dad . Maybe just enjoy the image and keep scrolling lol

Honestly, it’s a long rant. IDK why you clicked the read more link. But here we are I guess.

It’s complicated. Growing up, I was daddy’s little girl. Always have been, and I guess I made the assumption I always would be. When I was a child, we played video games together, we went to basketball games, we watched kids cartoons together, and we hung out a lot. I remember when he first bought the Xbox. He told me I couldn’t watch him play Halo because it was violent, but he let me hang out with him while he played anyways so long I was quiet. Over time, he let me play Halo too, and by high school, I was kicking his ass at Halo, and was better than every other Halo player in my school. By college, I was making him proud by being a student with a 3.95 GPA, perusing 3 studies, while working 2-3 jobs. By graduation, I was the laziest snowflake millennial he had ever met, and I never appreciated anything he had ever done for him, and I was in financial cahoots with his bitch of an ex-wife, and the only reason I didn’t have a job was because I was hadn’t been applying and was going on some elaborate vacation.

He made assumptions, and none of it was true (except for the fact I’m a liberal millennial). My graduation gift from him was $50, getting that speech, and getting kicked out of the house. He then proceeded to hand me my car insurance bill as well as the cat we’ve had since I was six, and told me to find her a home (I drove her 7 hours to my mother’s house). I understand I’m an adult at this point, and have a level or responsibility. But the sentiment was not at all what I, or anyone that knew us while I was growing up, would have expected. He also didn’t need to kick out the cat - she’s done nothing wrong. Neither have I.

My parents divorced two years ago – as an only child, it was tough. But as an adult child, I understood both sides. My mom really had been upset. My dad didn’t treat her with respect. The divorce wasn’t a surprise – my mom had been talking to me about it for about 5 years before. She probably shouldn’t have done that, but I don’t really think it matters either way because I think I realized they would get a divorce at some point maybe a couple years even before my mom started talking about it. They fought all the time. They jumped to conclusions. They didn’t listen to each other, and instead they just fought. They were both at fault.

I was the center of their worlds. They treated each other like crap, and disagreed a lot. The only exception was me. I was the only thing they agreed on. Consistently. Pros – they didn’t fight over me. Cons- I heard everything in stereo. I was close with both of them. I had a great relationship with my mother, and a great relationship with my father. They never treated me with the same disrespect they treated each other with.

The divorce was messy – I knew it would be. 8 months of lawyers fighting. They went to court twice. Twice. That’s not how that should work. But they fought so much both their lawyers got tired of them and let them go to court a second time.

Of course, when you pay two lawyers for 8 months, it’s expensive as hell. Also, when you take an entire person’s income out of the picture, you’re gonna be left with a lot less money. Mom says she got cheated financially with the divorce. Dad says he got cheated financially with the divorce. Both parents think the other bugged their car/house/etc. I’m not sure what’s true and what’s not. Their relationship - their divorce is none of my business beyond the fact they’re both in mourning of some sort. I tried to be there for them equally.

Of course, with less money, that meant less college funds for me. My dad didn’t feel like he could afford it, so I kept working the job I hated, worked more at my second job, and even started working a 3rd job. I went from paying 50% of my college tuition to 75% to 80% at a private school my parents had pushed. No one works 3 jobs while in college for fun. It didn’t cover what my dad felt like he needed, but it was the best I could do. I would have died if I had gotten a 4th job.

I kept a straight face and my mouth shut while I listened to my dad vent, and say horrible things about my mom, and then follow it up with a simple “oh sorry. I probably shouldn’t say that about your mother” and a smirk like that fixed anything (my mom did the same thing too – it wasn’t just him).

I didn’t say anything when the collection of bottles in the cabinet kept growing.

When my dad got drunk off his ass one night, I drove to the bar to pick him up and drive him home, but he demanded we go to StarWars instead. I babysat him at the movies, until he passed out the second the trailers started, and then snored the whole movie. That was my Christmas weekend.

When he forgot about Christmas, I told him it was fine, and gave him my gift anyways.

He stopped grocery shopping, cooking, and cleaning. I tried to cover, but he never noticed.

When he started dating again, I gave him dating advice.

When he told me to not tell my mom he started dating again, I agreed (ironically that same day my mom asked me for the same favor)

After his first breakup with a girlfriend, I canceled my plans with my mom and hung out with him while he stared off in space for a few hours and refused to acknowledge my existence.

I canceled plans with my mother to hang out with him when he asked.

I canceled plans with my boyfriend to hang out with him – my dad was in grieving, what else was I supposed to do?

I made sure to not voice my thoughts regarding the divorce, because he would have thought I had taken a side in the matter – which I never did. I never grieved the divorce because I was focused on helping my parents grieve.

I didn’t complain about the job I hated that brought back thoughts I hadn’t had in over a year. I didn’t want him to feel like I was trying to get out of paying my college bills.

When my dad started dating a second time, I was supportive of his relationship – even though he couldn’t stop saying mean things about my boyfriend of 5 years. He had no respect for a person in my life that is clearly important to me.

After he started dating, I got to hang out with him about 5 times one-on-one in the course of 2 years. But it was fine because his girlfriend made him happier (even though their relationship was emotionally abusive – but not as bad as my parent’s marriage had been). She went everywhere with us, even though my boyfriend was never invited.

He started yelling at me more, and treating me with the same disrespect he had shown my mother.

We celebrated the month of my dad’s birthday and then celebrated the month of his girlfriend’s birthday. But on my birthday my dad was busy (with a date with his girlfriend) and couldn’t hang out with me. So we had sushi the day before my birthday, where he admitted he had entirely forgotten about my birthday

The day after my birthday, I got home and found out my dad’s girlfriend broke up with him on my birthday because he “hung out too much” with me, and that I was a “heathen”. My dad took my side and packed up her stuff in the house for her to take. I got to hang out with him for a whole week. I canceled plans with my friends to spend time with him because I hadn’t hung out with him in what seemed like forever. I kept an eye on the liquor cabinet, but he yelled at me less, and joked more. I finally thought he would start acting like he used to… like my dad!.... Until him and his ex got back together….

And now we’re here.

It’s hard because one of my biggest motivators doesn’t care. He does. But he doesn’t. It’s hard. He seems upset too. I know he’s just jumped to conclusions that are incorrect, so I don’t take his words too closely, but I do understand that he’s mad at me and disappointed with me whether his reasons are valid or not.

I have other supporters, who’s support I really do appreciate, and they’re support helps a lot! I will get a job, a good one, and things will get better, but it’s hard. I think I want to have a good relationship with my father. But I don’t trust him, and I don’t think I ever will again.

This picture is from a trip we took in high school to visit his parents. We went kayaking, and it was a great memory. I don’t want to hate my dad, but I think I do right now. I’m not sure how I feel. It’s complicated. And I’m not sure if I want to have a good relationship with him in the future, or if I just want to cut his toxicity out of my life.

This post was long, and I really hope no one actually read it. But I needed to vent, and this is the only way I know how to do that.

#my art #nane art #dad #complicated #personal vent #personal rant #family #trigger warning #my dad #illustration #florida #kayaking #father

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tomishaped · 6 years

Text

522 Things I am not allowed to do at Hogwarts.

Numbers 1-96

1. I will not poke Hufflepuffs with spoons, nor will I insist that their House colors indicate that they are "covered in bees".

2. No matter how good a fake Australian accent I can do, I will not imitate Steve Irwin during Care of Magical Creatures class.

3. "I've heard every possible joke about Oliver Wood's name" is not a challenge.

4. Putting up Doug Henning posters in Filch's office is not appropriate.

5. I will not go to class skyclad.

6. The Giant Squid is not an appropriate date to the Yule Ball.

7. I will not use Umbridge's quill to write, "I told you I was hardcore".

8. I will stop referring to showering as "giving Moaning Myrtle an eyeful".

9. I will not insist the house elves serve fried snake to the Slytherins.

10. If a classmate falls asleep, I will not take advantage of that fact and draw a Dark Mark on their arm.

11. House elves are not acceptable replacements for Bludgers.

12. Starting a betting pool on the fate of this year's Defense Against Dark Arts teacher is tasteless and tacky, not a clever moneymaking concept.

13. Seamus Finnegan is not "after me Lucky Charms".

14. I will not refer to the Weasley twins as "bookends".

15. I will not tye-dye all of the owls.

16. I will not re-enact Harry Potter Puppet Pals in the Great Hall

17. Or anywhere else for that matter.

18. I will not shave Mrs. Norris.

19. I will not refer to the Patil twins as "bookends".

20. I will not write all my essays in red ink claiming it is blood.

21. I will not ask Lupin if it his time of the month.

22. I will not provide Luna Lovegood with Coast to Coast AM transcripts.

23. I will not bring a Magic Eight Ball to Divination class.

24. I am not allowed to tell Hufflepuffs there is no Santa Clause.

25. I am not allowed to refer to myself as the New Dark Lord.

26. I am not a sloth Animagus.

27. I am not allowed to steal Professor Flitwicks wand, hold it over my head and laugh as he tries to reach it.

28. I am not allowed to have a reticulated python, snow leopard, Tasmanian devil, or piranha.

29. I do not weigh the same as a duck.

30. Remus Lupin does not want a flea collar.

31. I am not allowed to wear death eater robes to dinner and shout Long live Lord Voldemort because I think its funny.

32. I will not kiss Trevor.

33. I will stop asking the Arithmancy teacher what the square root of -1 is.

34. Skiving Snackboxes are not a suitable gift for first-years.

35. Any resemblance between Dementors and Nazgul is coincidental.

36. I am not allowed to sneak into Professor Snapes private chambers to watch him sing I Will Survive in the mirror, as it is disturbing.

37. I will not mock Dumbledore with exaggerated limb movements.

38. I am not allowed to draw a smiley face on my arm and tell everyone its the new Dark Mark.

39. Asking "How do you keep a Gryffindor in suspense?" and walking away is only funny the first time.

40. I will not offer to pose nude for Colin Creevey.

41. I will not insist that the trees in the Forbidden Forest are Ent wives.

42. It is a bad idea to tell Professor Snape he takes himself too seriously.

43. It is a bad idea to tell Professor McGonagall she takes herself too seriously.

44. I am not to Owl copies of the Evil Overlord List to suspected Death Eaters.

45. I will not offer to prepare tandoori owl.

46. I will stop asking when we will learn to make "Love Potion Number Nine".

47. I will not ask Dumbledore to show me the pointy hat trick.

48. I will not ask Ginny how to properly strangle a chicken.

49. If Ginny Weasley wanted to borrow my Darkover books, she would have said so already.

50. I will not take out a life insurance policy on Harry Potter.

51. Sirius Black did not found the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation.

52. I will not draw an H on Percy Weasley's forehead.

53. Filch does not have a sister named Magenta.

54. I will refrain from wearing black leather gloves at all times and saying "Hogwarts is mother, Hogwarts is father".

55. Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab does not sell potions ingredients, and I will not resell their products as "Veela Pheremones".

56. I will not refer to the Slytherin dorms as "the Tremere chantry".

57. The Malfoys are not Draka.

58. Hogwarts does not have a student council. Even if it did, they would not wear the rose seal. Therefore I will cease going after the prefects with a sword.

59. Richard Upton Pickman did not paint The Fat Lady.

60. I will not refer to Umbridge as Queen of the Toads, even if she really is.

61. I will not sweep the Gryffindor common room with Harry Potter's prized Firebolt.

62. The Giant Squid has never made an appearance in any hentai film.

63. It is wrong to refer to Aragog as "Charlotte".

64. Professor Flitwick's first name in not Yoda.

65. I will not refer to the hippogryph as "Horseybird".

66. I am no longer allowed to use the words "pimp cane" in front of Draco Malfoy.

67. -Or any other Slytherin.

68. I will not "borrow" a prefects' badge for Peeves.

69. I am not the Defense Against the Boring Classes Professor.

70. -Nor am I the Care of Witches Underwear Professor.

71. -I am not a Professor, at all.

72. I will not replace Madam Pomfrey's Skele-Gro with pumpkin juice.

73. -I will not replace Professor Snape's pumpkin juice with Skele-Gro.

74. -It was not an honest mistake.

74. I will not swap Draco's broom with one out of Filch's broom cupboard.

76. I am no longer allowed in the student laundry.

77. -Or the teacher laundry.

78. Nor am I allowed to ever cast an Invisibility charm again.

79. While wand safety is an important issue, I am no longer allowed to distribute any pamphlet, which makes reference to Belinda the Buttless.

80. It is generally accepted that Cats and Dragons cannot interbreed and I should not attempt to disprove this theory, no matter how wicked the result would be.

81. I will not give any girl a one half of a set of two-way mirrors as a Christmas present.

82. -Especially if I don't tell her what it is.

83. Gryffindor courage does not come in bottles labelled firewhiskey.

84. -Charming the label does not change anything.

85. I am not allowed to eat Chocolate Frogs in Potions class.

86. -Even if I brought enough for everyone.

87. -Emptying a bag full of them onto Professor Snape's desk to prove this last is unacceptable behaviour.

88. Peeves may not countermand any of my professors' or prefects' orders.

89. No matter what Professor Umbridge may tell me to the contrary, I am not authorized to form press gangs.

90. Chemistry and Potions don't mix.

91. -Testing this last is not funny.

92. Crucifixes do not ward off Slytherins, and I should not test that.

93. May not mock Professor Umbridge in front of the press.

94. I may not speak Latin in front of the books.

95. The proper way to report to Professor McGonagall is "You wanted to see me, Professor?" Not "I have it on good authority that you have no evidence."

96. May not insinuate that all beautiful American exchange students to Gryffindor or Slytherin House in Harry Potter's Year are Lockhart's misbegotten heirs, even if it's true.

#harry potter #hogwarts #slytherin #gryffindor #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #522 things im not allowed to do at Hogwarts #Hermione granger #ron weasley #draco malfoy #snape #dumbledore #minerva mcgonagall #mcgongall #voldemort #list

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caroline18mars · 6 years

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Into the night - Chapter 123

Right at the peak of her umpteenth orgasm sitting on top of him, her bliss turned in a painful cry “Jared..help..help me” she cried as she grabbed aimlessly for his hands, black spots clouding her vision. Jared who was barely conscious himself covered by the beautiful veil of his orgasm, shot back to reality alarmed by her panicked cries and he instantly knew that things were seriously wrong, she was trembling like a leaf while beads of cold sweat pearled on her forehead. “Honey? Jordan?” he grabbed her hands that were still clawing at him in despair like she was blind, but she seemed to no longer hear him as her head fell back and her body went all limp “fuck no” he sat up and pulled her unconscious body against his so he could put her down safely. He quickly put on the light next to the bed and quickly checked for a pulse “Baby? Hey! Honey please wake up, JORDAN!” his voice started thundering at her before he tapped her cheek but she just wouldn't wake up, this couldn't be it, this couldn't be the end, please god no!. He needed to do something, so he jumped out of bed and put on his pants, an ambulance, he needed an ambulance, “Ja-red” she suddenly gasped for air, “babe..” he jumped back on the bed, towering over her. “What..happened?” she tried to sit up but Jared gently pushed her back down, “I don't know, but I'm calling you an ambulance” he nervously tapped in the emergency number and put the phone to his ear while he checked her eyes and checked her pulse. “Jared..” Jordan pushed his hands away and tried to sit up again, “Jordan, lay down, I mean it!” he almost shouted at her, the adrenalin still racing through him at an alarming speed “yes, an ambulance! Please, it's urgent..” he tried not to yell at the emergency operator as he told him what the issue was and gave him his address “ok, please hurry”. Disconnecting the phone, he didn't care where it landed, all he could care about was her, “the ambulance is on its' way, just try to relax”, to his surprise she didn't protest, she just lay there squinting and rolling her eyes like she just couldn't seem to focus “ok..what is happening?..do you think it's..another” she paused for a second, breathing hard like she had just run a marathon “attack?”. Jared swallowed hard, remembering what she had once told him that the truth should be served up straight “I think so..” he nodded, but that exact same truth hit her really hard as she closed her eyes, her face painfully scrunched up “I'm scared..Jay..I don't want to die” she mumbled, panic laced around every single word. “You're not gonna die, Jordan, you hear me? At least not in another 80 years or so” he breathed, trying not to show his own panic, “Jay?” a soft knock on the bedroomdoor followed by Shannon's worried voice came drifting out to them, “yeah Shannon, get in here” he shouted at his brother as he quickly covered Jordan's naked body before the door hesitantly opened “is everything ok?” and Shannon walked in. “No! I think Jordan's having another heart attack”, Shannon heard his brother say and he finally dared to look in his direction, scared he might walk into something he didn't really want to see after all the commotion that had woken him up. “Jordan, honey!” Jared was tapping her face again watching her slip away into another slumber like state before he looked over his shoulder “Shan, the ambulance, go check and get them in here asap, there's no time to waste, go! Please just go!” he shouted. Jared tried his very best to get her attention but she kept drifting in and out of consciousness, his fear of losing her was becoming very, very real, she couldn't just leave him, they still had so many plans, they were gonna get married and have a house full of children “Jordan, stay with me, please, stay with me, wake up, come on” he tried again, deaf to the stomping on the stairs. “Mr. Leto” two paramedics hurried into the room “your brother filled us in, can I ask you to wait outside while we check on your girlfriend?” one of the men tried to persuade him to get off the bed while the other one immediately rushed to Jordan's side, putting the stethoscope in his ears. It took a lot of convincing from Shannon as well before he finally let go of her and was escorted out of the room, Shannon held his brother back from storming back in there while he closed the door behind him, “she needs me, I need to go back in there” Jared pushed against him, “just let them do their job” Shannon shook his head. It broke his heart to see his brother kick the wall in frustration and pain “no, no, no, no” he kept mumbling before he froze and then suddenly stomped off, mumbling all sorts of incoherent stuff.

Shannon's heart skipped a beat when he saw him stop at a few doors down the hall “fuck” he hissed and quickly ran up to his brother “don”t! Jared!” but as soon as he heard his brother run up to him, he ignored his plea and opened the door. Jared just stood there, in the middle of the room, everytime it was like stepping into a timemachine, all of her clothes, handbags, shoes and every other designer accessory you could think of was right here, including her perfume, everything that defined that young life cut off in its' prime. His brother looked at him, standing there breathing deeply like he wanted to drink in the entire room, this was his sanctuary, this room was his imaginary friend, in here the outside world didn't exist, as long as he was here nothing bad would ever happen anymore. “Jared..man, sometimes I wonder if you even love Jordan at all” Shannon couldn't help himself, this needed to be said once and for all, Jared spun around on his heels “what..the fuck? How can you say that? I love Jordan more than anything..but I can't do it..I can't watch her die” he shot back. “You can't watch her die? so you come in here to worship on the shrine of your former, dead lover? Seriously? Charlotte has been gone a year, Jordan is still here and with a little help you'll get to be with her for the rest of your life, so stop trying to fuck up your own happiness and let Charlotte go..because it's time, Jared, high time” he stepped back. “I can't..this is like my church..” Jared breathed, shaking his head ferociously, “really? And what kind of miracles happen here, huh? Tell me, in all this time has Charlotte come back from the dead yet? She never will, Jared, no matter how much you, or me for that matter, would like to see that happen..Charlotte is in the past..and I can't believe we're talking about her while a few doors down the love of your life is struggling to stay alive, she needs you more Jay, she so needs you right now, and so does that little boy..” Shannon turned briefly before he shook his head and walked out on him. “Mr. Leto?” the door of Jared's bedroom finally opened and one of the paramedics came walking up to Shannon, “she's awake now..she's been asking for your brother”.

Jared who had overheard, instantly came walking out of the room and ran up to his bedroom, his heart jumping around in his chest when he saw her sit up in bed “Honey..” he breathed when she gave him a tired smile. “I'm so sorry” she whispered in his ear when he put his arms around her, “shhh..it's ok, you're here and that's all that matters” he sighed and closed his eyes only to watch the paramedics gather their stuff when he opened them again, “Mr. Leto we'll be going, we just need you to sign some papers, they're in the truck so if you don't mind..” one of them said. “Yeah sure..” he nodded and reluctantly let go of her “I'll be right back” he whispered and squeezed her hand before he got up and followed the men out. “Is she gonna be ok, shouldn't she come with you to the hospital?” he stepped out with them in the crisp nightly air, “not much we can do for her there if they don't find her a new heart..I'm gonna be honest with you, Mr. Leto..her condition is seriously deteriorating..she had another heart attack, luckily it was a milder one this time but all we can do is buy her some time given the circumstances but at this point that defibrilator implant is the only thing that's keeping her heart going”. Even though they said nothing new, it still took his breath away and all of a sudden he heard himself ask “how much time are we talking about?” even though he already knew the answer. “A couple of months..weeks if these attacks get more and more frequent, her heart is at the end..I'm so sorry Mr. Leto” the paramedic struggled with his words, telling someone the truth was never easy. Shannon stood there like he was nailed to the floor, only a few minutes ago he had been scolding his brother for acting so strange and now they were standing here hearing the man put on expiry date on that exact same future he said his brother would have with Jordan. “No..it's..uhm..” he extended his hand to the paramedic “I should be heading back, she needs me, thank you for your help” he mumbled and then slowly walked past his brother heading back to the house with his own broken heart under his arm. “Jay..man..I'm..” Shannon followed him inside and stopped him right before he could head on up the stairs, “is there any news on the ring?” Jared turned around and seemed to look right through him “the engagement ring, is it ready yet?”. Shannon swallowed hard “I'll give them a call in the morning” he said in an unsteady voice, “good, because it's getting urgent, and for the record..not a word to Jordan about what the paramedic said, ok?” he said without a trace of emotion, but his brother knew better, he knew that there was a storm of emotions raging through him.

”Everything ok? You were gone a while and I was just about to come and check on you” Jordan greeted him as he walked back into his bedroom, “everything's fine, there were more papers to sign than I thought, insurance and stuff” he pulled his shirt over his head again and walked up to the bed, sliding between the sheets with her. “Come here” he pushed his arm underneath her and cradled her, kissing her shoulder before he fell completely silent and got lost in his own tangled thoughts, “what did they say?” Jordan's voice pulled him out of his daze again, “nothing..” he lied. He was acting real strange, but she told herself it was the aftermath of her having yet another heart attack and the medical intervention, while she didn't even remember half of what happened. “I'm sorry for raining on your parade..I just wish my body would give me a litte notice in advance you know, preferably before really pivotal moments like an orgasm” she rolled her eyes as she pushed a kiss on his chest, kneading his flesh, Jared couldn't believe what he was hearing, was she trying to seduce him? After everything that had just happened?. “I'm the one who should be apologizing to you, if I hadn't forced myself on you then none of this would have happened..” he hissed between gritted teeth, groaning in pain from the blow to her heart, she pushed herself up on her elbow “what are you talking about? What happened is not your fault” she frowned at him. “I'm talking about not wanting to see you go through something like that ever again, I mean it Jordan, from now on, you and I are gonna keep our hands to ourselves“ the determination in his voice surprised her, “what? What are you trying to say? That we can't ever have sex again?” she tried to laugh it off but he didn't “that's exactly what I'm saying, I had to call an ambulance just now because you almost died, I'm not risking it again, no, no way”. Jordan just stared at him, in a second he was gonna burst out in a fit of giggles telling her that she was always such a sucker for believing his little jokes but there were no giggles, not even a trace of a smile on his face, he meant this.. Too shocked to say anything she lay down again and stared at the ceiling, she was so gonna wake up from this dream any second now with him kissing her awake but a few hours later she woke up in an empty bed with the sound of the shower running in the background.

Just when her aching body had finally gathered enough strength to go join him, Jared beat her to it and came strolling into the room with nothing but a towel tied around his hips “Morning” he sat down on the bed and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips “how are you feeling?”. Slowly she raised her hand, her finger slowly tracing the path of a waterdrop on his chest “like I've been run over by a truck” she couldn't lie or deny it any longer that she wasn't feeling a 100%, “maybe I should go to court on my own today, I'll ask Shannon to stay here with you and keep you company” Jared's brow knitted together in worry. “Have you seen my normal Jared anywyhere? because ever since last night he seemed to have vanished into thin air and I miss him terribly” she breathed while she tried to make eyecontact with him, but he just closed his eyes and gently pulled her hand away from his body “don't do this Jordan, I'm going to get dressed and if you don't want to stay here, then you should go take a shower because I don't want to be late” he got up and simply walked out of the room leaving her behind with a lot of questions. Half an hour later she walked inside the kitchen clearly interrupting a conversation between the two brothers because they immediately stopped talking when she walked in “Morning” she singsonged at them as she walked over to the fridge to get her some milk, “you're not dressed yet” Jared rolled his eyes, clearly dissapointed. “You know there was a time when you used to complain about me being too overdressed” she winked at him trying to keep the mood light and then turned to get herself a glass, “I told you I don't want to be late so you go get that shower now or I'm going to that courtroom by myself” he snapped completely ignoring her effort. “Could you stop talking to me like I'm five” she turned on her heels to look at him, what the hell was his problem? “I'll stop if you stop acting like a five year old” he put his cup of tea to his lips, ostentatiously staring at the clock once again. “Excuse me? What the hell is your problem? Huh? What did I do wrong this time? Is it because I'm not as quick on my feet as I used to be because of this stupid heart of mine? Is that what's bothering you? Well, guess what? You won't have to wait much longer, ok? No need to drive me to an early grave, because that's where I'm already heading anyway!” she suddenly exploded at him, all she wanted was to hold him and be with him while he seemed to be doing everything in his power to push her away being so distant and so angry with her ever since last night “ you know what? fuck this!” she yelled as she banged her glass back down on the kitchen counter, making the milk slosh over her hands before she stomped out of the kitchen.

#jared leto #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #30 secondstomars fanfic #30 seconds to mars #into the night #chapter 123 #jordan and jared #jordan

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leyahroehl · 3 years

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multi-teez · 4 years

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Hello my name is Bryanna Stewart I am a 26 year old single mom from Glendale Arizona I have two little girls, Myah which is 4 years old and Ariyah who just turned one this past August. On August 2, 2020 I brought my 11 month old to the ER just to get an evaluation because she had shown signs of some neurological differences over the past week, such as not being able to sit up straight for periods of time and not wanting to walk any more or be able to use her right arm. After getting a MRI completed in the ER the doctor came back to tell me that my baby has a tumor the size of a tennis ball in her brain, and at that moment my life as I knew it changed forever. At that point in time my worst nightmare as a parent became my reality, not knowing what the tumor is, where it came from, how long its been there, you can only imagine all the questions and worries going through my mind for my baby girl. We were admitted to Phoenix Children's Hospital PICU (pediatrics intensive care unit) that night, throughout the night I'm meeting with so many doctors from different teams from neurologist, neurosurgeons, oncologist, trying to figure out what is wrong with my baby. Our first stay was ten days in the PICU, during that stay Ariyah under went three operations, a brain biopsy, surgical drain place in her brain to drain the excess fluid that was collecting in brain that was blocked by the tumor, which was causing her to lose feelings in her right hand and leg, and also a tumor resection where they went in and took out 80% of the tennis ball sized tumor. After hearing her surgery went well I felt relieved hoping that the tumor would come back as non cancerous, but I was wrong. Ariyah was diagnosed with atypical teratoid rhabdoid tumor also known as AT/RT for short, this is a rare form of an aggressive brain cancer found in children from as early as birth up until age three. This type of type of cancer has no known source this cancer forms from cells not properly producing in the body as you grow. They see about only three cases of this a year, with a survival rate of 43%. So not only did my baby just have brain surgery I'm being told she now has to go through chemotherapy with less than a 50% success rate of her making it through. After finding out her diagnosis and her treatment plan of six rounds of chemo, another tumor removal surgery and a week of radiation, which will all take place over the next year with weeks in and out of the hospital for treatment. With me being a single parent I had no choice but to resign from my job to become her primary caregiver during her time of treatment. Ariyah started her first round of chemotherapy on September 9th her chemo session stay was only supposed to be a six day stay in the hospital then return home for two weeks to recover then come back for a second round. Up until then my child was still the same, had the same personality still played still laughed even after having brain surgery. As of today September 24th we are still in the hospital Ariyah has not been able to go home. Her little body is taking a beating to the chemo drugs and has started her hair loss and is getting worse than expected. My baby is only one years old, she cant talk, she cant communicate her pain she cant tell me whats wrong. I don't know when she wants to try to eat or drink. She cant do it on her own any more because she had to get an NG tube placed (nasal feeding tube). My baby was never a fussy baby never cried she was happy and always ready to eat your food and if you didnt share it she was bound to yell at you until you did. Ever since Ariyah started chemo she spends most of her day sleeping because she has no energy to stay awake long enough to want to play. She lays there in the hospital crib in pain most of the day from sores that grew in her mouth as a reaction to one of the chemo drugs she takes. The pain of these sores were described to be as the same feeling of have strep throat. I've personally never had it but I've heard its very painful. Its very difficult to watch my baby suffer in silence and just whimper and cry, and as a parent not be able to do anything about. Most days I cant even hold her because of all the things shes hooked up to or I dont want to sit her up because throws up everywhere. Most of her day is spent laying down even it she is awake she just gives you blank stares not even a smile anymore, its very hard endure on a day to day basis. Due to COVID 19 the hospital has visitor restrictions to only where two people are allowed to be on her visitor list and are only allowed to be here one at a time, during the duration of the hospital stay, with these restrictions in place Ariyah has not been able to see her sister nor have I been able to have both of them together. I plan on using these funds to support Ariyah and her big sister Myah to cover any medical expenses not covered by her insurance. Also to cover rent and utility expenses for the next year while going through treatment. Any funds donated will help make sure all of Ariyah's needs are met during her fight through cancer. Just a simple share will help bring awareness to this type of rare cancer and could possibly help other parents identify different signs in their young children to get them evaluated. Thank you for taking the time to read my baby's story

This is not me but please help in any way you can!!!

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hannahswanviscom · 4 years

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A facebook account of infertility

https://www.herfamily.ie/pregnancy/couples-heartbreaking-infertility-story-made-us-cry-243738

“Do you have a minute? I’ve got kind of a long story.

Leah and I have been trying to get pregnant for over 3 years. I’m not sure when, exactly, we stopped the birth control. Like all our plans, we didn’t start with a plan, but instead decided that if we got pregnant, that would be great.

And then we didn’t get pregnant.

I mean, look, when you’re in your twenties, it feels like you can’t look at someone else without getting pregnant. We’ve all heard about someone who got pregnant through 2 condoms, spermicidal lubricant, and an IUD. Right? But we didn’t get pregnant. No big deal.

We’re in our 30s. Things are probably a little bit dusty, and a little bit rusty. So, three years ago, we started using apps and calendars to track this and that. Ovulation test sticks. Old wives’ tales of positions and timing. We got some late periods. And some periods that never came!

But we didn’t get pregnant.”

So, off to the doctor we went. His and hers appointments for collections of blood and semen and measuring parts and such. Medical science being what it is, we got the answer to all our problems: ‘You’re fine, and there shouldn’t be a problem.’

Do doctors ever tell anybody, ‘This is what is wrong, and this is how to fix it,’ and then give them pills, and they’re fine? This is not my experience.

We didn’t get pregnant.

So then came the hormones for Leah. Along with those hormones came the realization that little-to-none of this would be covered by insurance, and that the coverage rate would go down as we went deeper into the process. See, insurance companies look at getting pregnant a lot like getting sick. Why, they can’t imagine, would you try to get sick? Well, f**k you, insurance companies. That’s why.

But we didn’t get pregnant.

So maybe we’re bad at timing, or something, or god knows. Usually that’s fine, but we are in our late 30s, and clocks are ticking. The doctor told us that certain hormone levels were low, lower than they should have been, and that meant our egg supply was dwindling.”

Let me tell you something. There is nothing you can tell a woman that will make her feel more young, beautiful and vibrant than, ‘You have a dwindling egg supply, and it is time to pick up the pace.’ You should try it. Maybe at a bar.

And that was when we began IUI, intrauterine insemination. IUI is – colloquially – the turkey baster method. When they told us about it, I tried to really hear what the doctor was saying, but all I could hear echoing around the room, off of the oyster-y pearlescent floors and the alien-vagina wallpaper, was ‘dwindling.’

For Leah, we eventually figured out, this meant a regimen of hormone boosters to facilitate egg production. Are you aware of what happens to people when their hormones go out of the norm? They are not happy. Unless they are happy, in which case, they are very happy. There is no mild. There is no average day. Her job was to feel like her brain and soul were on fire.

My job was to try and not say anything dumb, because she also needed to be calm. I tried to avoid triggering phrases like ‘Hey,’ or ‘Good morning,’ or ‘I love you,’ but I kept f**king up, and opening my mouth, or allowing Leah to see TV programs, or commercials, to read books, and interact with the world in any way.”

“The best was when someone would ask her when we were going to have kids. That was just the best.

Then, after one or two ultrasounds to make sure eggs were there, and in their right places on their little follicles, I would give my needle-phobic wife a shot in her thigh to set ovulation in process. She says she’s not so much afraid of needles as she is afraid of being stuck by me with a needle, but same difference, right?

Over time, I developed a method where she would look away, close her eyes and cry, while crushing all the bones in my left hand, and I would count to three, and inject her with my right. I wouldn’t inject her on three. I tried to pick a random time. She usually didn’t even feel it.

After all that romance, you would think that abstaining from sex for a few days would be hard, but you would be wrong. You might also think we should be having massive amounts of sex, but it turns out that you have to let your seminal stash build up for a few days before collection.”

“Over the last couple years, I became pretty professional about my sperm deposits. My first one was a few paragraphs up, for testing. Man, is it ever weird. You can do it at home if you want, but then you are under a clock to get your sample to the lab on time. I don’t need that kind of stress.

I don’t talk about it much, but I like to think I’m pretty good at taking care of business in the art of sperm production, but I had never entered a room designed specifically for masturbation, while people waited outside, hoping my masturbation went okay. Perhaps that is what Eddie Murphy’s life was like in Coming to America, but I was less familiar with it.

The room was like a combination of a hotel room and an office. It had a big picture of The Ohio State University football stadium, filled with fans, on the wall over a small vinyl sofa. There was a neatly folded sheet, fresh and crisp, hanging on the far armrest. A clock radio on the side table, tuned to local political talk radio, sputtering away beneath a low-lit lamp, was paired with a little wooden cube that had one tiny drawer, specifically made for storing your collection cup.

Under the table were four or five magazines that I didn’t really want to touch. Usually two Playboys, a Penthouse, and a Swimsuit Issue. Across from the couch was a TV/DVD combo with a DVD preloaded. I didn’t want to touch the remote either, really. It sat on a wicker chest.

Wicker struck me as the worst possible material for a room designed for male masturbation. Everybody’s aiming for the cup, I know, but I also know there have been enough accidents in that office that it required a laminated sign about what to do in case of an accident.”

“The first step, in case of an accident, is to not try to hide it by scraping your mess into the cup. Big no-no. This makes your sample corrupt, which may mean that your partner could end up being impregnated by carpet fibers if I understand correctly, but it is also unsanitary.

The second step is to tell the front desk staff that you had an accident, which seems horrific. The people who work at the lab are people who, by my calculations, deal with upwards of 80 men per day who have just masturbated, or are about to, and their sperm. Sure. They are professional.

But, still, everyone is a little bit tittery, a little bit anxious. We all know that this is all very silly, and that I just touched my penis, and you are someone’s grandmother, and that even though you have a pin in the shape of a little sperm fella to help break the tension, we all – if we really had the choice – would probably prefer to burst into flames than discuss any part of this, let alone the fact that someone missed. Whoops!

The DVD would change over time, but still be of the same variety. Usually some kind of early 90s Eurotrash boat fantasies, or oily faux-lesbian scissorhands scenes, starring fingernails that made me very nervous. I would check every time I went in, and it was always awful. Everybody’s got their thing, I guess. My thing is that I am thankful for the Internet.

Oh. And you are supposed to go in dry if you can help it. Lubrication, as it turns out, can mess with the quality of the semen, which seems like a pretty big jerk move on the part of lubrication.

But, yeah, I’ve got my routine down.

When your sample has been washed and spun, or whatever it is they do with it, they put it in a paper bag that you carry over to the doctor’s office for the procedure. We long-timers can always tell the new couples. Their discomfort and optimism is cute. They smile and look around on their walk, hoping no one notices the bag they have pinched in their fingertips.

Me, I carry my paper bag like a sack lunch. The same turkey sandwich I’ve had every day for years. With hope, yes, but the skepticism of routine. The IUI itself is pretty quick, and from what I understand, painless, if not the normal amount of demeaning of going to an OB/GYN. You get one more ultrasound to make sure everything is in place, and then they pour the gravy all over the giblets.

Sorry. I know. I’m hung up on turkey metaphors.

And then we wait.”

“You’re warned against taking pregnancy tests because they measure hormone levels, and after taking all sorts of weird shit all month, you can trigger a false positive. So you wait. And there will be spotting. Is it spotting, or is her period starting? You don’t know. So you wait. And you wait. And you wait.

And sometimes her period comes, and you start over. Step one. And sometimes it doesn’t come. But the second line doesn’t appear, or the plus, or the whatever these tests do. So you wait. And it’s negative, but you hope, and you see your friends getting pregnant, and you get a little sad. But you get mad at yourself because you want to feel happy for other people, and that’s not fair to them. And then the 17-year-old across the street gets pregnant, and you get a little sadder. And your cousins get pregnant, and you get a little sadder.

And you see people scream at their kids, and beat them in Kroger, and you just want to die because you would give anything to have a child throwing a tantrum in the cereal aisle.

You don’t want to hate people. You don’t. I think babies are beautiful. I think kids are awesome, but you can’t help the jealousy. The envy. The resentment. It really creeps up on you. And you search for positive things. And you talk on end about your capital-O Options.”

“And then you see people on the internet post screeds about how dare anyone assume that they would want to have kids because not having kids is the best – which is fine, have at it or don’t have at it, I really don’t care – but we want to be procreating, and we want what you could have, but are choosing not to use.

And we want to tell you, but people don’t talk about it. Because you don’t want to talk about it.

Because you spend all day thinking about it, managing it. Trying not to cry. Trying to not turn into HI and Ed from Raising Arizona, stealing babies in the night.

And the doctors start talking about Next Steps, and the Next Steps are very expensive, so you try it one more time. And then, while you’re in Kansas on a road trip with a friend, your wife does the IUI with a frozen deposit you left behind.

And you get pregnant.”

“You go in for a blood test, two weeks later, and they tell you that you’re pregnant. And you cry. Big fat tears of relief. And then you freak out because, to be honest, you talked yourself out of real hope months and months ago, but now you have to get ready for a baby.

Some weeks later, you go in for an ultrasound, and there it is. I mean, yeah, it’s a tadpole with a giant head. There’s its brain, and there’s its heart fluttering away, and it’s so real.

And you relax.”

“We’re in our late thirties, which means that the chances are higher than average that a pregnancy won’t be viable, or there will be a chromosomal abnormality, or something along those lines. We spent a lot of time tiptoeing around that idea, but we talked about it. And about not getting too excited. You know, the higher you let your hopes up, the further they have to fall. But they told us to relax. Everything looked great and we were on track, so when we went in for one final scan before being released to our obstetrician a couple weeks later, we were all smiles and jokes.

‘I’m so sorry. I can’t find the heartbeat.’ …

And then you’re not pregnant.”

“I’ve felt time stop before. Car accidents, falling off a fence, a mountain bike jump gone wrong. I have not felt the vertigo of infinity like when we were told our baby was dead. I’m logical. I understand science and biology. I know it was a fetus, not a baby. But it was my baby. In my head, in my heart, I could already imagine being old as it grew into an adult and had its own children, and – woosh – it was all gone.

As I write this, the due date is a little over a week away, like a car accident on the road ahead that you’re trying not to look at, that you have to drive by. The world isn’t going to stop. We all get up and go to work. Because it happens. People lose babies all the time.

Miscarriage.

But no one talks about it. No one gets on Facebook and tells their friends. It’s specifically why you wait to tell anyone.

But then you have no one to tell. When a family member dies, you can share your grief. With a miscarriage, you would have to tell people that someone who will never be born, who they had never heard of and will never meet, but who meant the world to you, is gone. And you don’t have the strength to get into it. You tell your parents, maybe a close friend, maybe your boss. I was so stunned when it happened that I texted my boss that I wouldn’t be back that day, but that I’d be back the next, which really cracks me up now. I didn’t even get how I was about to be affected.

Leah was scheduled for a D&C, dilation and curettage, under general anesthesia at Christ Hospital right away, so she wouldn’t have to go through the trauma of slowly passing the fetal tissue over the course of a week. It wasn’t until they took her back that I let myself break down. Alone with my worst thoughts and the sour coffee of the waiting room for several hours. God, I have no idea how long. One more forever.

The people at the hospital were excellent. We got a lot of information about support groups that we never went to, but we should have. We just wanted to hide. I’m thankful for our families and our friends, who came to sit with us. Who brought Lea the things she needed, and let me get out of the house to walk around the neighborhood. I must have looked like a zombie.”

“It’s very difficult to think about, even now. I don’t think I’m doing a good job of describing it. I don’t want to dwell on it. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t think it was until around the New Year that I went a day without crying about it.

But, you know, you pass the car accident and it’s in the rear view, getting further away, and sometimes you don’t even see it anymore. Maybe you’ve told yourself enough times that “at least we know we can get pregnant” and “this just means that something was wrong and it’s a good thing.” Maybe you even believe it.

Just to let you know how strong Leah is, she still made the Dean’s List that semester, and she was carrying 18 credit hours. I dropped out of college for the dumbest reasons in my time – once because I got mugged – but she persevered. Like Britney, bitch.

We started back at the fertility process too soon, in a dumb burst of optimism and courage, and the desire to move forward. The hormone treatments were too much for Leah. And the lack of success was too much for the both of us. So we stopped. Our doctor told me, privately, that we need to take care of ourselves, but that, if we want to have a baby, we either need to move forward now, or start discussing Next Steps.

Remember: Dwindling.”

“We tried a couple more times, one of which felt good – we thought we had it – and were told that if this one doesn’t take, that we would need to increase hormone treatments substantially and begin planning for options outside of IUI. In Vitro, surrogacy, or something else.

The doctor also told us, during one IUI, that while Donald Trump scares him, his wife loves Trump because of the Mexican wall thing. They are both immigrants. His problem with the wall was that it would be impossible to pay for it. I don’t know. Doctors tell you some crazy shit while they’re inseminating your wife.

Through this process, and through both of our lives, neither of us have ever had a home pregnancy test come out positive. Even when we were pregnant before, it was the doctor who did a test. This last one, Leah couldn’t bear to look at it herself, so I looked at it while she was in the shower, and told her no, that it was negative.

While she stood there, crying, I googled ‘pregnancy test faint line.’ As it turns out, even the faintest f**king line in the whole f**king world means you’re pregnant. So we’re pregnant.

We’re pregnant.”

“Not that we believed it at first, but we are. Three scans later, I’ve even heard the heartbeat, like a hummingbird, and it’s beautiful.

As I write this, tomorrow is our first obstetrician appointment, and we’re so nervous. So, so nervous. I wouldn’t dare to post this until we’re in the clear enough, and ready to tell people. Almost no one knows right now. We’re worried to jinx it, us, we, who don’t believe in jinxes. Mostly, we’re afraid of going back through the pain. To have to retract it, publicly, is too much to think about.

I know plenty of people have gone through more than us. We are comparatively very lucky. Some people have never gotten pregnant. Some people could not go as far as us. Some people have taken many Next Steps beyond where we were. Some have been successful, but many haven’t. I hesitate to share this because I don’t want anyone to read this and feel what we felt, watching others’ dreams come true. Some people have found out, or have guessed, and have been very kind to share their own stories with us, and it has helped tremendously to not feel alone. Many thanks to all of them. I hope that maybe this helps someone else feel less alone.

And I hope that everything goes well, and I can inundate you with pictures, starting in November. …

Everything went well. Arms and legs and moving around. We’re very excited, but I’ll be holding my breath for 26ish weeks. And it’s a girl. Not that gender matters! But we’re going to have a little girl! And I am stoked. We are stoked.

We are pregnant.”

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damo1704 · 7 years

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A man of a different generation

Man I love telling stories. I used to go out of my way to write Tumblr posts as often as possible when I was younger. Perhaps back then I had more interesting thoughts to share. Perhaps I felt I had an image to maintain as a tortured creative type. Perhaps I had too much time on my hands. Likely, one or more of these are true but somewhere along the line I ran out of reasons to keep sharing. Today though I encountered a man who sparked my storytelling sensibility. For my own amusement, I’m writing this in the 3rd person.

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It’s odd really. He wasn’t a particularly remarkable man by any means. Damien placed him at more than twice his own age, and the same estimation was placed upon the circumference of his belly also. He was clearly a man blessed with an easy life, a fact that would confirm itself later on. The man approached the counter and towards the till that Damien was operating.

“How can I help you mate?” Asked Damien, his go-to opener for such encounters. The man produced a mobile phone encased in some manner of battery prolonging device. This already sparked alarm bells in Damien’s head, as devices such as this are reserved for mobiles with problems. He wasn’t a fan of problems. Problems usually resulted in Damien having to explain things repeatedly, slowly lowering the level of accessibility from ‘Technical’ to ‘Lehman’ to ‘Child’ to ‘How are you not getting this yet?’

“This phone has videos on it of my mother that I buried 2 weeks ago.” Said the man. For a fleeting moment the words banged against Damien’s eardrums without actually progressing to the part of the brain that processes sounds. After the brain caught hold of the sound and ran back the instant replay to confirm it had heard correctly it passed the message onto Damien’s face so he could react with the correct expression of bemusement. Having been desensitized to such statements from working in retail so long, the expression took a form that could quite easily have been mistaken for boredom or the slightest passing of gas.

“I’ve tried charging it but it won’t switch on.”

“Ah.” Damien thought to himself. Now the first statement made sense. The man had footage of his mother, presumably pre-mortem, and wanted to preserve them. He also, one assumed, needed a working phone also. “Let me take a look at it mate.” Everyone was Damien’s mate at work. Perhaps he had devalued the term so much that to be someone’s “mate” to Damien was just to be someone. He ran the necessary diagnostics and discerned that it was beyond his ability to meet both the requests of the gentleman simultaneously. “I could get the phone working again, but I’d need to restore the phone to it’s factory settings. Perhaps there exists a guy much cleverer than I who can access the stored data on the phone directly and recover it for you.”

“Oh, well thanks for being honest. It’s a bugger though because I like to use this phone to communicate with my friends with iMessage.”

He then proceeded to share information about the various ways he stays in contact with various people. Completely unprompted by Damien. Damien had never been a fan of this self indulgence of people. He never shared details of his life unless asked, so why had this man taken it on himself to reveal so much to a random guy in a store? Usually Damien would find slight revenge in making up long and boring stories in response to these people. But today he lacked the motivation and just took the verbal onslaught as it came. From here the conversation turned to all the various mobile phones the man had owned in the past. This served to aid Damien in narrowing his earlier age estimation of the man to over 50.

“I used to have one of those phones the size of a brick!” Said the man.

“Like the ones that had a separate box with them to carry around?” Damien queried mistakenly. For what was intended to be a sleight at the man for robbing so much of his time, actually spurned new anecdotes. This, Damien supposed, was how karma acted on small indiscretions.

“Ah well I did have one of those actually! But it got broken because I left it on the roof of my car... And then drove off!”

“Oh dear.” Damien replied, learning from his earlier mistake and not wanting to prompt anymore new conversation.

“And then I had another one of those and the same thing happened again! Not covered on the insurance apparently!” He jested. “But,” he continued “the phone I mentioned earlier, the one the size of a brick. It was actually the reason I got my mortgage.”

The age estimation narrowed. This man got a mortgage at a time where mobile phones evoked the image of professionalism, placing him at over 18 in the 80s. He was over 60 it seemed and it became more apparent that this guy had lived a bit of a charmed life to Damien. No signs of stress on a man who had recently buried his mother. A greedy, rotund belly and designer glasses. Damien sensed he was about to be enraged. He had been enraged so many times by now that he could detect it’s approach. Like a pot of water being heated slowly, gently starting to turn around itself before bubbles rise to break the surface.

“Yeah,” The man resumed “My boss at the time assured me when I went to get my mortgage that I should have my mobile poking out of my top pocket. Sure enough I got a £140,000 mortgage. Lived in the house a few months then flipped it for a tidy profit.”

Some facts about Damien and his current situation a perhaps pertinent here. Damien is a 24 year old victim of the baby boomer generation. Men of his age in the year 2017 are not able to get mortgages without a substantial deposit and even then he would only be entitled to 3 times his measly salary. This is a result of mortgage lenders being very irresponsible when it came to a certain generation and loaning money to people based on whether or not they displayed, now unremarkable, technology from their top pockets. Damien’s pot of anger now boiled and steamed. Being a master of rage, Damien did not need to express it in any outward form. He was surely harboring deep internal damage because of this, both physically and emotionally. But he was a professional and never directed anger at the undeserving, as he saw this man to be. He knew the man was just seizing a great opportunity that was presented to him. He knew the man was not bad-natured, unless being boring is to be considered of poor nature.

He absorbed his anger at a time long-passed and reiterated his later phone diagnosis and suggested some next steps to the customer. Customer is a poor description here, as he never actually bought anything in the store! The man left and Damien exhaled his usual post-fury sigh.

“Just another day” He thought. And continued to do his job exceptionally, as he always did.

Later, Damien observed the man outside the shop eating an ice cream and smiling.

“Life is shit.” Damien concluded.

THE END

Thanks for reading all this way! A lot of embellishment has been used here so don’t worry about my very real but slightly exaggerated rage issues. And certainly don’t worry about the man I encountered! Believe me when I say that I hope 2 weeks after I bury my mother I am as jovial as this guy was!

See ya guys!

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mfmagazine · 5 years

Photo

Pilar Sanders

Article by Teresa Walters

You'd have to be pretty quick on your feet to keep up with Deion Sanders but in the case of Pilar Sanders, she is the one who gets his heart racing. Wife of the famous football star, she juggles just as many gigs as he does. Model, actress, entrepreneur, personal trainer, mother and philanthropist; she is both multi talented and keenly industrious. Even if she has a full plate already she always has something cooking. With a good sense of humor and a warm heart she tells us about life in the limelight.

Deion and yourself had some amusing and biting banter on PrimeTime Love. Did you guys fall into that romantic ribbing right when you met? What was your first date like?

Well, the banter began day one. One of his attributes that grabbed me immediately was the fact that Deion was quick on his toes…literally and figuratively. [Laughs]. He could go toe to toe without breaking stride verbally and with comedy so it was a wrap! The first time we ate together, we took a limo to a place I'd never been before...Popeyes! Yes, Popeyes Chicken! But I think that was strategically planned because when we went inside to order he cleared his throat and motioned for me to look behind where we were standing and low and behold there he was… an 8ft. cutout of him and the Road Runner! [Laughs] Talk about a conversation piece!

Yes it is. So, let’s talk about Football Wives. Did you know any of the ladies before you got involved with the show? Were you surprised by some of their personalities or where they were coming from? Can you dish on any behind the scenes drama?

I only knew one of the wives, Rahgibs Ismails’ wife, before getting involved with the show but I did not know any of the other wives at all. I am one to not judge a book by its cover, because it's done to me ALL of the time, so I had no preconceived notions of any of the gals. I didn't know where they came from, where they lived or who they were married to, never heard anything about them before the show. Unfortunately reality TV isn't always what it says it is. With hundreds of hours of footage being cut down into 22 minutes divided often by 7 cast mates - I'd say the realness of life is missing, However, seeing a slanted view or not, an overall depiction of a person is made and edited to support whatever 'role' was created. Luckily for the avid viewer, it's up to them to read between the lines and do a scavenger hunt to find the whole person. Dish: There is ALWAYS so much more than what you see! What you may hear the loudest or see the most of, isn't always the truth. For instance I am placed in scenes at a fashion preview that I never shot with 5 of the other cast members (Episode 4) and "said" that my husband and I hold a boot camp at our home,... and we do NOT (Episode 3). But I really do train women in Lancaster, TX (1hr. away from my home).

Were you ever worried being on Football Wives would pigeon hold you or maybe keep you in that role as Deion's wife? You are certainly vivacious and multi-talented person as well so how are you able to juggle all the roles you play? Has it been a struggle defining yourself or getting into your own groove and path outside of Deion?

I'm not worried about being pigeon holed as Deion's wife because I am. I'm very proud of that. [Smiles] I think what we all struggle with, men and women alike, is learning how to juggle life, religion, family, career along with the social aspect of life. Finding and keeping a balance is the key. Having God as the center and in the mix of everything is paramount! Once getting into the rhythm of life, it is always somewhat of a challenge to begin to move to a different beat. So going from a model/actress to wife/mommy to business/philanthropist/entrepreneur, has been a bit of a challenge with the adjustments in schedules and making sure that the most valued things in my life stay at the top of my list in terms of personal, family and business time. Healthy boundaries have to be set in place so we all as a family can win.

Some people have said that I "shouldn't have to want to work". Well, Deion is very old fashion in that perspective. He believes that as a man, husband and father that his responsibility is to cover our home and take care of all of our needs. I honesty applaud him for that because he is a go getter, a great provider and will do anything for us…his family and loved ones. That's not something you can teach, it's in him! So to understand that aspect and move from the realm of being a housewife and operating all of my businesses and charities from home, to now being more public on a show different than our family show, Deion and Pilar: PrimeTime Love, was a bit of a growing process for both of us. But support from my family has undoubtedly helped me find my own personal groove.

Your daughter plays the muse for your perfume - Shelomi. What was it about her that sparked this new scent?

My baby girl, Shelomi, is a ball of joy! From her smile to her sweet demeanor, she is completely captivating. I always said that if I could bottle up her beautiful spirit to share with others I would. I believe I grabbed a good piece of it in my first fragrance "Shelomi". It is Fresh yet a little flirty, sweet and light and lasts all day long…Which is a MUST for a really great Fragrance!

What would you create or design if Deion played the role of muse in your next project?

His fragrance. In which case he's already played my muse. I love a man whose sent is unforgettable…Strong, masculine and absolutely sexy.

Is there a copy of Power Money and Sex on your bookshelf? Is it hard to keep your faith and your family grounded in the midst of the fame?

No, he has a copy on his shelf, though. It's not hard to keep grounded because I don't forget I came from. Understanding life no matter where you are in it is a gift and a blessing all on its own, Knowing that we are all one incident away from our lives changing drastically, and Believing that I am not here by accident but on purpose and that there is a bigger reason than myself that I am where I am now. It's really not about me. And this is what we teach our children.

Can you tell us anything about the new TV series Single Ladies?

The series Single Ladies is full of faces we all know and love to see in action. A beautiful cast of women who bring the comedy and drama. Oh, and yes, the men are definitely a must see for all of the real single ladies.

As a trainer what are some of your “must do” no fail exercises that keep you in shape and give you that energy to keep up with the kids?

Staying in great shape and having energy is accomplished by two things…Good nutrition and exercise at an 80%-20% ratio. In essence you really are what you eat so, trying to eat live, clean foods is always best. I think the "no fail" exercises bring you right back to the good ol' fashion basics: sit ups, crunches, squat thrust, lunges, running, jump rope, pushups and pull ups. You can do these anywhere and anytime without fail and get results fast.

What inspired you to get involved with different charities? Can you tell us a bit about them?

My mother and father always said that charity begins at home, and that's right where I learned it. I grew up volunteering my time, effort and always giving money to charitable causes. I believe in tithing and giving in general. Becoming a flowing river brings blessings that money cannot always buy. Believing in that lead me to establish and head our 501c3's: Sanders Claus, in which case we bridge together companies and communities to answer the needs of the people whether it be building a new home, stocking refrigerators and cabinets full of food, giving items that medical companies refuse to cover like motorized wheel chairs or teeth! Nothing is too big or too small for Sanders Claus to be involved in…And PrimeTime Association, where we house our TRUTH Academic & Athletic League. As well as working with the Texas Dept. of Agriculture to help feed children and families throughout the entire state of Texas. In 2011 we will be the face of the Summer Food Program insuring that children will be provided with nutritious meals throughout the summer when school is not in session. And we are also opening our Charter School in 2011.

Is there anything new happening on the modeling front for you? Who are some of your new favorite designers right now?

I am focused more on acting and producing, launch my first fragrance "Shelomi" from my new Signature Collection, and operating our charities, Sanders Claus and PrimeTime Association.

Some of my favorite designers are Roberto Cavalli, Laguna Beach and TRUTH Tees.

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steven-heisler-law-firm · 4 years

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Danielle Roberts: What You Need to Know About Medicare

About Danielle Roberts: Danielle Roberts is a founding partner at Boomer benefits. Which is a National Agency specializing in Medicare-related insurance products since 2005. She’s been serving thousands of Medigap policyholders in 48 States. Boomer benefits help baby boomers learn the ropes regarding Medicare, a nationally recognized expert in the Medicare sector of the health insurance industry. Danielle is a past President of the Fort Worth chapter of the National Association of Health underwriters, and a Forbes financial council member. She’s been featured and or quoted by major news outlets around the country such as Fox, Yahoo, finance, and Business Insider.

In this episode, Steve and Danielle discuss:

1. Why do people feel so overwhelmed about Medicare when they’re approaching age 65?

I think it’s because your whole working life, you’ve had someone choose your health insurance for you, you work for a company, that company has an HR department, HR department reviews, a bunch of group health insurance plans, and they come and say here, you know, you can sign up for this plan. Here’s what it’s going to cost you out of your paycheck. And that’s what happens. Maybe you work for a company that gives you a choice between a PPO and an HMO they have two plants to choose from, but you never have to do any of the heavy lifting and learn what deductibles and coinsurance are, you know, you just sign up and go with whatever insurance that’s given to you. Well, when you turn 65, and you’re retiring and you’re leaving that group health insurance whenever if it’s at 65 or later. Either way, you’ve got to learn this National Health Insurance Program, which is a beast with four parts, 10 supplements, and literally thousands of Medicare Advantage or Part D drug plan options.

2. Why haven’t they made it easier to comprehend or done some type of Medicare course to help people get introduced and acclimated with Medicare?

Yeah, you’re speaking my language. We have a private Facebook group where we allow people to join and ask their Medicare questions. I have heard that same question. Probably hundreds of times, like people will say, Why didn’t anyone prepare us and I often like to say, there should be a class when you’re 50 that you have to take could be online, and they could do it in an hour, but preparing you for things that people generally don’t know about Medicare, namely, that it’s not free, that you’re going to pay for it, and also that it doesn’t cover 100% of the cost of your healthcare so that you have time Get ready for that. Because we have met over the years, many, many people turning 65 getting ready to retire who were just blown away to find out that there’s a cost to this healthcare that they’re going to pay their whole life, that it’s going to be deducted from the cost, their social security check, and they’re not ready. So we’ve seen a lot of people decide to work a few more years because they were so caught off guard. So the government really does need to do a much better job. They send out a handbook. It used to be mailed to you now not even everyone gets the book in the mail. There’s some legislation too, that’s in Congress right now to take place to try to do a better job of preparing people for when they should enroll. So they don’t end up with penalties that they incurred just because they didn’t know when and where and how they should have signed up for Medicare.

3. Is it because they’re so confused or just so not in the know about what it actually involves and what it’s gonna entail? Usually when there’s things that people don’t really know anything about, and they’re a little nervous about, they tend to avoid it.

Yes, people will procrastinate until the very last minute, or they just don’t make any decision at all. They sometimes end up in trouble for that. One example that we’re dealing with a lot now is that people who don’t have employer insurance who’ve been insured the last few years through the private health care exchange, they have had a subsidy which, which helps to make that insurance, very inexpensive for them. So they might be paying 50 or $100 a month for a health insurance plan because the government picks up part of the cost of the premium under the Affordable Care Act and so they’re like, well, I love the insurance coverage I have I just not going to sign up for Medicare. Well, what they find out later, is that it was never intended that the ACA Plans replace Medicare, they’re supposed to leave them and enroll in Medicare at 65. So not only will they pay a late enrollment penalty for signing up for Medicare because of that, but furthermore, once the government catches up with them, they’ll make them pay back all the subsidy dollars that they’ve been given since age 65. And you can just imagine there are literally thousands of people in that bucket who don’t know any better. So it’s so important that people start doing their research early. The early 60s is a good time, but certainly no later than age 64. You need to dive in and learn the parts of Medicare and learn the enrollment periods and familiarize yourself with all that so that you don’t accidentally make a huge blunder that is going to affect your coverage and what you pay for it for the rest of your life.

4. Can you fill in our listeners on exactly what that entails when you start being eligible for Medicare as far as price?

So part of the reason people think Medicare is free is that during your working years, you pay FICA taxes, and you see on your paycheck stub, the amount that’s pulled out of your paycheck to go toward Medicare and to go towards social security. So people think that they’re prepaying and that Medicare will cost them nothing when they get there. And on one part, that’s true, Part A, which is your inpatient hospital coverage under Medicare that is funded by the FICA taxes that you pay throughout your working life or if you were married to someone, you have to work at least 10 years here in the US or be married to someone who did to get Part A for free, and most people do work so about 99% of all Medicare beneficiaries, enrolling in part A will pay nothing for it. You can purchase If you a lot of times immigrants who are recent to America, maybe don’t have that work history, you can purchase it, but for most people, Part A costs nothing.

5. What exactly is Part A?

Part A is your inpatient hospital coverage. If you’re admitted into a hospital, Part A is the fund that pays for inpatient hospitals, skilled nursing, hospice, blood transfusions, things like that, that would occur in a hospital setting.

6. So that doesn’t cover all the other stuff? It only covers if you get sick, and you have to go into a hospital or you have to get skilled nursing?

Sometimes, people who can’t afford or didn’t know they have to pay, won’t sign up for the Part B which is the outpatient coverage, and that’s a big mistake if Medicare is going to be your primary coverage if you don’t have other coverage, such as through the VA or through retiree coverage through an employer, because although Part B does pay for outpatient things like you and I would think of as outpatient like doctor visits and lab work, it also covers things which may happen in the hospital because physicians perform services at a hospital and physicians fall under Part B. So if you were to have outpatient surgery or chemotherapy or radiation in a hospital, Part B is actually the part that covers those services. Part B is not free currently in 2020. The base premium, the standard base premium for Part B that most people pay is $144.60 per month. That typically goes up a little bit every year. People in higher income brackets about 5% of Medicare beneficiaries pay substantially more than that because they’re in a higher income bracket.

7. What about the senior or the aging person who doesn’t want to pay $144 for part B, and has either a pension which includes health benefits or is still working and has health benefits, do they need to get Part B?

They don’t. If you work for an employer, past age 65, and that employer has more than 20 employees, then you can keep your employer coverage and it’s going to pay primary and Medicare will pay secondary.

8. What is Part C?

Part C is the Medicare Advantage program. To understand how that works, I’ll first state that when you have your Medicare benefits in place. They work similarly to other insurance that you’ve had in the past when you have employer group health insurance. When you go to the doctor, you have a copay. If you go to the hospital, you pay a deductible. Well, Medicare has those same things. You have a deductible when you go to the hospital, there’s an outpatient deductible, and then Medicare covers only about 80% of your outpatient expenses. So you need some sort of supplemental coverage that’s going to cover that other 20% and also pay those deductibles for you. So you could choose to enroll in a traditional Medicare supplement that goes alongside the original Medicare that picks up those things for you or you could opt for the Medicare Advantage Program instead. And that is just a way where you can get your original Medicare Part A and B benefits through a private insurance company that operates a local network in your area.

9. What’s the difference if someone wants to do Part C and Part D, they can either get that through Medicare, or they could get it through private companies such as Boomer Benefits?

The Medicare Advantage program is not something Boomer Benefits offers, you would enroll in a doctor, a private insurance company, and all the same companies that you’re used to that operate in the under 65 world. They offer Medicare supplements and Medicare Advantage plans. So in your local area, you might be signing up with United Healthcare or Blue Cross or Aetna or Cigna Anthem. There are dozens of carriers that offer these plans. The main differences are with original Medicare and a Medicare supplement. Medicare is the primary payer and if you have a Medicare-approved claim which Medicare approves most medically necessary care. Medicare pays its share and then sends the rest of your supplement company and the supplement company picks up their share, leaving you little out of pocket. And the advantage of sticking with original Medicare and going that route is Medicare doesn’t have a network There are over 1 million providers that participate in Medicare across the United States. So you can see any doctor you want anytime you don’t have to pick a primary care doctor, you never have to get a referral.

10. If I was over 65 I could use any doctor, even in another state under my part C?

Original Medicare with a Medicare supplement is the one that you could see any doctor Part C is the one that has a local network.

“What’s really important to know Is that Medicare has election periods and you need to know how they operate and when to use them.”

— Danielle Roberts

To find out more about the National Injured Senior Law Center or to set up a free consultation go to https://www.injuredseniorhotline.com/ or call 855-622-6530

Connect with Danielle Roberts:

Facebook: Medicare Q&A with Boomer Benefits Instagram: @boomerbenefits Website: https://boomerbenefits.com/ Pinterest: Boomer Benefits YouTube: Boomer Benefits Phone: 855-732-9055

CONNECT WITH STEVE H. HEISLER:

Website: http://www.injuredseniorhotline.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/attorneysteveheisler/ LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/the-law-offices-of-steven-h.-heisler/about/ Email: [email protected]

Show notes by Podcastologist: Kristen Braun

Audio production by Turnkey Podcast Productions. You’re the expert. Your podcast will prove it.

The post Danielle Roberts: What You Need to Know About Medicare appeared first on The Maryland Injury Lawyer.

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karelounge · 4 years

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HOW IT ALL BEGAN

July 30th 2019- Hi y’all… My husband has had cancer since December of 2018… It has been a journey in the little time that has passed… He was in remission in April and it came back in May. They had him doing high dosage chemo, and just this week they checked how its doing, and the chemo is not working. We will see what the doctors have to say on Wednesday… On what they want to try next.Since the beginning I have been mourning my husband… since then, It’s been off and on. But it has always been a part of me to prepare for the worst… I would really hate to have to burry him in a few months.. I will really go into shock if it comes to that. He was raised very different than me. My parents were more old school, very involved and a bit over protective, while his parents let him do whatever whenever. I have really tried to get him to adapt a healthier lifestyle… But after trying so hard I have grown to just accept that it’s out of my control. I need to be well mentally and physically to be able to take care of him. I wished my friends would check on me… Instead of how everyone at work just asks how he’s doing… I have been doing fairly well these past couple of days… But it’s definitely been difficult to get where i am today. I am trying to stay strong and self reliant. I wish I wasnt human and didn’t feel the need for wanting someone to check on me or be the shoulder i desperately need. I cannot rely on my husband for this… He is going through too much for me to burden him with my emotions. I want him to focus on the fight… I could keep going forever about this… Thanks for reading.

August 5th 2019-

After seeing the Oncologist Wednedsay July 31st, the fight keeps on. We got a new treatment plan that involves chemo pills, IV chemo, and IV chemo injections into the spine. Unfortunately, my husband does experience discomfort from the LPs (lumbar puncture), which will definitely will be a change for him to go through this treatment.

I have high hopes for MD Anderson doing what they said they’ll do and take good care of my husband. Unfortunately, we do live in the United States, and all these hospitals just care to make profit and the insurance companies try to get away with as much as they can. We have been fortunate that the insurance has covered a lot of the cost, and we do have a mountain of medical bills. The struggle and the fight continues.

This has definitely caused my mental health to be a roller-coaster ride and it has thrown my self care off the rails. I am trying to be there as much as possible, as my health is also important to me. I’m hoping that things will improve with my husband’s side effects once treatment is started.

” We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.”

Monday 8/5/19 – This weekend was really tough. When people that say enjoy the days that our loved one with cancer isn’t experiencing the cancer symptoms… Well I finally get it, because the chemo on the first diagnosis was working well and he was his normal self throughout it. While the time that the doctors decided to not do the chemo he was currently on because it wasn’t working, all his cancer symptoms came in… the nausea, the fatigue, plus depression and a roller coaster of emotions, sure makes things fuuuunnn (sarcasm). I got him as much of God’s plant as I could get him. It has been the one thing that makes his face to look as not sad or as nauseous. I am certain things will get better, but having to come to work while my hubby is going to start a new chemo that he is frightened about is definitely a challenge to stay composed at work. I really need to speak to someone that can help me lean on them through these tough times.. I do not want to burden my husband with my problems. Please keep us in your prayers and send us love and good vibes. Funds are tight, so please donate at our gofundme https://www.gofundme.com/f/AAlfaro

Much Love, xoxo Karry

August 12th 2019

Weekends are the beginning of a new week for me. The weekends mean so much to me because I am able to spend two full days with the man I have loved for close to 10 years, he is my everything, and he is the love of my life.

Watching him struggle with hospital procedures, body pains, constant fatigue, and now with his sleeping schedule all out of wack, is definitely hurting me more and more each week. I do not know what the future holds, ever since we got the news of the cancer coming back in May 2019. It was devastating. Then after doing 3 rounds of high dosage chemo, and finding out that the chemo was not working. We both broke, and I seem to continue to keep breaking down emotionally.

Anyone would feel crushed and devastated after so many bad news. These news brought the thought of death back in my mind. When my husband was first diagnosed, I had constant panic attacks, and couldn’t stop myself from crying. I am proud of myself for resorting to getting professional help with a therapist and seeing my general doctor about the body pains that the stress and anxiety are doing to me. I have been taking medication for anxiety and depression daily, and a sedative for whenever I get panic attacks.

Now that we are in the path of treatment once more, I am uncertain as to where I fit into this relationship. I have definitely been there for everything my husband has needed, I try to help him stay relaxed and give him advise. But is that all my life will be from now on? Taking care of my husband? I try to take care of myself, but that has gotten far off the rails. I don’t know what to do or where to start. I am a lazy social butterfly. I am definitely chatty, but lack confidence in myself. I get social anxiety when going to new places. I want to continue living my life, but what about my husband? I do not know how to deal or cope with this. Until next time.

xoxo Karry

August 20th 2019

First Cancer diagnosis was on Dec. 12, 2018 (250 days ago from today). Second Diagnosis was on May 31, 2019 (80 days ago).

It seems like it was yesterday that my husband was in ICU, that he was in remission, that he was his happy self making useless jokes that only made him laugh. On July 31, 2019, we saw the doctor for the new treatment plan. My husband said something along the lines of.. If God decide’s its his time, he will be all around us, because we’re all made out of energy and energy is recycled in the universe… something like that. When I first heard him talk about death like it’s nothing, it broke me inside.. I’ve never thought of my life without him in it… but what if that does happen. This whole experience has been traumatizing. My jaw is always clenched, my teeth are constantly chattering, my hands shake, and I am emotionally numb. I hate to give into the thoughts of death, but they are normal. I have always tried to prepare for the worst case scenario in everything in my life, but nothing could of prepared me for this. My husband’s current diagnosis is Central Nervous System Lymphoma, the statistics that can be found on the internet in regards to this cancer are very grim. My cancer support group that has plenty of survivors, tell me to not think too much on those numbers, some were given a couple of months to live and they have lived years since then. I hope that God can bless my husband with plenty more birthdays, and in the case that my prayers don’t get answered he will always live in my heart, in the hearts and memories of all the lives he has touched.

These past few weeks the treatment has made him extremely weak. He has lost his balance after so many LPs (Lumbar Punctures), plus the medications that he is on make him extremely fatigued and this has caused his legs to get weaker where he cannot get up, sit up, or walk without assistance. I pray that he never falls. We are all here for him for anything that he might need, and we are extremely proud of his strength and motivation, even though there are those bad days where I have to kind of nudge him to take his medications. For pains, or headaches he keeps wanting to treat it with marijuana or caffeine instead of taking his medicines. On top of all this, his left eye is pretty much gone. He can no longer see through it, and last night he was telling me that his right eye was hurting.

Staying hopeful, but I am broken.

xoxo Karry

September 20th 2019

A lot happens in a day in the lives of my husband and myself. The final day of radiation is 9/11/19… his niece’s, Haqua’s birthday.

A quick recap of the second diagnosis… Diagnosed on 5/31/19 with CNS lymphoma. First treatment was liquid high dosage chemo, and it was not working. 7/31/19, Second treatment was chemo pills with LPs and some liquid chemo. I believe on 8/26/19 he was admitted to start radiation.

Since he was on the chemo pills he became disabled and could no longer see out of his left eye. Once his oncologist saw the cancer claim his eye and starting to take away his mobility, he wanted to start on radiation right away. He was admitted for about 5 days to start his daily radiation treatment. After he was discharged, the doctor assigned physical therapy for my husband twice a week or so… In just a week of the radiation and physical therapy he has completely turned around. It’s still a struggle to bend down for him, but other than that he is able to see a little bit through the bad eye, can walk faster than before, get dressed, and shower without assistance. MD Anderson has made a miracle with my husband’s case. The radiation has completely turned things around. He will get a 2-3 week break before redoing the scans and imaging. I am sure that after the doctors get the imaging they will reevaluate and see what steps we will take on.

Keep us in your prayers. xoxo, Karry

October 8th 2019

Starting Oct. 15 the husband is going to go back to the hospital to do imaging and test to see how the cancer situation is.

In that time, I have noticed that we keep ending each month in the negative (financial wise). I am trying all kinds of things to have as side hustles to maintain us afloat, but it doesn’t seem to be in the cards yet. I am definitely falling into some dark time, but what can I do? This shit is out of my control, but I can always do my best with what I got.

In a more personal note, my relationship with my husband has not been well for a couple of years now. We do enjoy each other’s company, but that is it. I have voiced to him my concerns and what my needs were in the relationship over the years, he would agree and change for a brief amount of time and then return to being content. I let this continue for weeks, months, and years. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, but we were no longer on the same page. Love, passion, and chemistry all abandoned our home. Like any other human being, I thought it was all my fault because I am the only person I can control. The summer of 2018 I started working out, eating healthier, and trying to grow and become a better person for us. I took on a second job and side hustles so that we can have more disposable income for us to enjoy life. When his health started to decline that fall/winter it was a very difficult and traumatizing time for us both. Seeing him multiple times at the brink of death from then to now has made me mourn my husband one too many times. I have done everything in my power to take care of him and make him happy, as I would expect him to do for me if I was in his shoes. But after years of constant disappointments, constant emotional and physical drain, of trying to rebuild this relationship on my own; I have thrown in the towel. He is and always will be in my heart. He is and always will be my best friend. He is and always will be my family.

People will judge me, but they haven’t walked a mile in my shoes. People will call me selfish, but they haven’t experienced what I have been through. If I don’t take care of myself, who will? It’s okay to do nothing. It’s okay to speak up. It’s okay to let go. I have been hiding this for too long. I have been pretending to be okay for too long… After I finished my therapy with AbleTo, I have been on a path of living my truth. The people that know me very well know that they can tell my mood or feeling just by looking at my face. Life is too short to live a lie, to live unhappy, to not be heard. I will continue to live my truth, I am proud of my battle scars and my self; nothing and no one will change that.

xoxo Karry

#persuit #of #hapinnes #broken #hurt #mental #health #help #life #cancer #lymphoma #caregiver #girl #problems #damaged #heart #love #relationship

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