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wild-moss-art · 9 months

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hi moss! I hope you are having a good day!! I was wondering if you were willing to share how you convinced a doctor to yeet the uterus :O are you scared about having a major surgery? (I am, as always, having The Thoughts.)

<3 I hope you're having a good day too! It is a long story and kind of personal but I'm happy to share bc I know that it's really difficult to find info on, and if anyone has questions you can feel free to dm or send an ask. Gonna put the story under the cut.

First of all, I live in america and this will all sound very american lol.

In the interest of not burying the lede, my working theory is that I have endometriosis or adenomyosis; these are notoriously difficult to diagnose. Endometriosis is only diagnosable through a laparoscopic surgery and adenomyosis is literally only diagnosable through getting a hysterectomy and having the tissue biopsied. If you don't want a hysterectomy, you can't get an official diagnosis.

Now to the backstory. I think my medical history and experience advocating for myself medically had the most impact on being approved for this procedure.

I have been on hormonal birth control since I was about 13 or 14 practically as soon as I hit puberty I had debilitating periods. I was missing a lot of school and obviously this didn't look good for my parents, so I was put on the pill, and later when I was older I switched to IUDs. The birth control basically put a bandaid on the problem, and the IUD eliminated my period altogether.

Near the beginning of this year, I started to have a lot of pelvic pain that I initially thought was a UTI. I went to the doctor who kept telling me I didn't have the bacteria for a UTI, and basically sent me home with some antibiotics anyway, which didn't help. They did not test for any other problems. I ended up switching doctors due to insurance purposes, but was also put off by the care I'd received.

When I went to the next doctor, they were actually willing to run tests. This doctor and every other doctor I've seen since initially insisted I must have an STD. A panel was run, and I was fully clean for STDs. I was referred to a urogynecology specialist, as my main symptoms at this point were pain(which they do not care about- didnt even put it in my file) and difficulty urinating(this symptom I believe is the only reason I was able to get a referral to a specialist).

While I was waiting for my urogynecology appointment(they were pretty booked out), the pain got worse, like a lot worse. I was also having more and more hormonal symptoms like heavy acne. I was able to move my appointment up but ended up going to the ER. At the ER, I posted about my experience which I can link if you'd like but I'll include the relevant info. The doctor hadn't looked at my age on the file and initially DENIED testing because I was "too young". He came back later and approved it, because he actually looked at my fucking file. From this point on I've been livid and ready to fistfight every doctor Ive seen.

I was at the ER for like 10 hours and got a CT scan, which showed all the inflammation in my uterus and little in my bladder, which was when I began to realize that the bladder issue was just a symptom and not the problem. The original doctor was off duty toward the end of my visit, and the new doctor came in for briefing when she mentioned they needed to run an STD panel. I told her I'd had one about a week ago that was fully negative. She said "I need to go talk to my supervisor."

Ultimately, I was released from the ER with a prescription for extra strength ibuprofen and a referral to a gynecologist. They said my IUD was stabbing me internally, and needed to come out. They did not take it out at the ER.

At this point, it was time for my urogynecology appointment. At the appointment, I told them about my ER visit and asked if they could take my IUD out. They said they didn't really do that there, but after I showed them my CT scan results, they did it anyway. I felt a lot better, immediately. They were helpful and awesome, but said that they mostly treat bladder problems, which was clearly not what I had.

I didnt feel fully better though, because hormonal birth control keeps endometriosis and adenomyosis symptoms and pain at bay. The pain has gotten gradually worse, but it's not longer quite as sharp and stabbing. I've been doing a lot of research about these conditions thanks to a helpful tumblr mutual, and I believe I have adenomysis. I'm not sure whether I have endometriosis.

I followed up on the gynecology referral from the er; I am really happy with this clinic so far. They are the ones that offered the hysterectomy. In my initial appointment, I mentioned that I was not on birth control and wanted to be sterilized. They asked if I wanted birth control in the meantime. I said no(I believe this helped).

(as an aside. Another reason I believe I was offered what I was is that I am married. When I listed my partner as an emergency contact, they specifically mentioned that I did not take his last name. I believe this says something about our relationship to doctors. I know often they will ask for the husband's permission in this scenario; however, they did not even bring him up beyond the last name thing.)

When I met with the doctor for a tubal ligation consult, we talked a bit about the procedure and what other symptoms I was having. I also got an ultrasound that showed inflammation in my uterus(as well as a medium sized cyst on my ovary. lmao). He said the tubal ligation would not help my other symptoms. When I mentioned my CT scan, he actually left to go look at it, returned and immediately asked if I wanted kids. When I said no, he told me he could give me a hysterectomy.

We went over some details; just a hysterectomy is a pretty non invasive procedure and doesn't even require an incision. He mentioned that it may or may not fix the whole problem(it would fix adenomyosis which only affects the uterus, not endometriosis which affects other organs) but that it's pretty complicated to remove the ovaries because it's a more invasive procedure and basically I'd have to be on hormones to simulate menopause for a really long time(I'm only 27). So that is an option, but it's better to just see if the hysterectomy fixes my problems.

The surgery is in 10 days from now and I have my intake consult on tuesday. I plan to update cause again, I know not a lot of people talk about these experiences and it would have really helped me to have known more going in. I really cant wait, I've basically been bedridden, cant exercise, can't stand for long periods of time, not much at all. I'm lucky my livelihood is sitting on my couch drawing.

Finally, I believe that it is possible that they wanted to sterilize me due to my mental health history. I am in ongoing treatment for my mental health, and have particular diagnoses that I do not disclose publicly. You can message me if you'd like to know this information.

#ty for the ask <3 #im sorry this is so long lmao. it has been a lot #I do feel all this is relevant though. I don't think I could have just rolled up to my general doctor's office and asked for a hysterectomy #nor do I think I could have rolled up to the gynecologists office and asked for one without the history #im not sure how to tag this so that people could find it if they need to lmk if anyone has suggestions #moss is sick as in cool but also as in sick

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cryptidwritings · 2 years

Text

Dark Water

Chapter 9 : The Cathal pt. 4

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CW: freezing whumpee, beating with fists, gun, gun shot wound, blood

Moss’ clothes felt like ice against his skin. Dark clouds had snuffed out the sun and brought a chilling rain. He shivered, closing his eyes, unintentionally torturing himself with intrusive thoughts of lying on a hearth, wrapped in a wool blanket.

“Why do we live here?”

“Because we’ve always lived here,” His mother answered from their kitchen just a few feet away.

“We can’t… leave?”

The silence as he stared into the fire, even with the crackling of heat-eaten wood, was enough to tell him to bury the thought.

“Be back before sundown!”

Ignore it.

“Mom, Dad! Look what I found!”

Don’t say it.

“You trying to bring a curse on us, boy!?”

Moss stood in front of that same fire, feeling the heat bounce off a fresh bruise with eyes red and swollen from tears long past being able to fall. He turned over a stone in his fingers, feeling the hand-carved grooves of two intertwined rings.

Moss felt a small tap on his cheek, and he opened his eyes, staring at the Quartermaster.

"Sorry to interrupt your nap,” he said with a smile as he stood up, “just thought I should introduce myself, since we’ll be here a while," He removed his hat and hung it on one of the unused shackles, revealing braided blond hair underneath a red cloth that wrapped around his forehead.

Moss had been too busy drowning to notice the skulking presence of the man.

He grabbed the other chair and placed it in front of Moss before walking towards the porthole, "I'm Liam Riess. Quartermaster on this ship for five years, previous boatswain for ten,” He shut the window.

Moss barely heard what he had said, distracted by the pain in his fingers and toes and by the small fact that he didn’t really care to listen.

“Unorthodox introductions can make things a bit awkward if you let it,” he smiled, taking a seat, “your turn.”

“You kn-know my name,” Moss’ teeth chattered.

Riess nodded, “Moss Harper from Holm,” his gaze lingered, “your island has an interesting history.”

“Is that why you’re doing this?” Moss shook with frustration, or from the cold, he couldn’t distinguish one from the other anymore.

Pity pulled Riess’ mouth into a frown as he placed his hand in his pocket.

“Not directly. Truthfully, you are either incredibly stupid or incredibly unlucky,” Riess shook his head and glanced down as he pulled something from his coat, “Or a combination of both.”

Moss watched as he placed a large ring on the trigger finger of his right hand.

“Either way, you’ve found yourself here, so this is how it’s going to go,” he reached into his coat again and pulled another ring, fitting it on his middle, then another until all four were adorned, “I’ll ask you questions, and hurt you until I know you’re telling the truth.”

“I am telling the tru-”

Moss’ head snapped to the side, staying that way as the pain radiated throughout his cheek, burning from the cold.

The other chair clattered to the floor as Riess retracted his open hand, “Stupid is taking the lead.”

Moss re-adjusted his gaze toward him and stretched his jaw, watching as Riess untied the cloth around his head and used it to meticulously wrap his fist, snaking through fingers. He flexed his hand and finally looked at Moss again.

“One more time, then. Who sent you?”

Moss stared at the officer, who patiently waited for an answer. The sound of water dripping onto the floor and the chains shifting along the wall filled the silence. What could he say?

“I-I just wanted a job-”

The room spun as the initial hit forced his head to the side, followed almost immediately by the unmistakable pain.

“I’m going to need a name.”

Moss felt blood dribble from his lip, falling onto his pants as he looked back at Riess. His nostrils flared and he balled his hands into fists.

“I don’t. Have. One.”

“Hm,” Riess looked through the porthole, “shame…”

His fist collided with Moss’ face again. His head snapped back and he groaned, slowly picking it back up just as another came flying, finding its purchase on his left cheek, pummeling it quickly again until he could feel the blood seeping from it and down his neck.

Then a train hit Moss in the gut. He doubled over as far as his restraints would allow; his hands shook behind him, mimicking the shaking of his eyes.

“You can take a punch, I’ll give you that,” Riess sniffed and grabbed Moss’ shirt, pushing him against the back of the chair again. He swept aside his coat and pulled out a pistol, “Put an end to this and tell me what you know.”

“I don’t know anything!” he coughed, “let me go!” Moss twisted away from Riess.

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Riess yelled, pushing the barrel to Moss’ leg.

“Fuck you!”

A blinding pain ricocheted through Moss’ leg. The ringing in his ears swallowed his initial scream as his vision went white, “Aah! D-damn it!”

What the hell? Did he- he shot me? he…

Riess pulled him upright again. Moss grimaced and huffed as his freezing thigh grew warm and damp with blood.

“Why were you in the hold!?”

Moss fought the adrenaline coursing through him to look into Riess’ eyes. He grit his teeth, hearing the muffled question.

“I overheard the Captain mention it to you. I didnt care about the cargo until then!” specks of spit flew out of Moss’ mouth, “Gah!” He slumped forward again as the wound pulsed.

He didn’t feel cold anymore. No. There was pain, there was frustration, and there was blinding hot anger. He left Holm to leave this shit behind… All those days he spent wandering; trading the noise of breaking backs for that of waves breaking against the cliffside, all with the hope that one day he would run and never look back.

Moss clenched his fists, “You drowned me, beat me, shot me, and then ask if I’m a spy while this ship hands over cargo? What’s in them? Medicine? Charts? How many lives have you sacrificed for a bit of coin!?”

Riess’ pensive face fell, as did his grip on Moss’ shirt.

"Wish it were that simple, swabbie” he crossed his arms, relaxing the pistol on his bicep, “You’re not a spy. I believe that."

Moss exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Though," Riess continued, "you already stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, so it doesn’t really matter if you were.”

Doesn’t matter? Moss’ eyes locked on the gun as it clicked.

“Unfortunate, really, but you know the saying, dead men and all that,” Riess began, his voice bubbling with curiosity, “How did you know what was in the crates? I thought learning pirate knowledge was forbidden.”

Moss thought for a moment, swallowing a dry lump in his throat. He really was stupid.

“Holm has an interesting history,” He repeated, trying his best to smirk, though he could feel his face shake as a cold sweat fell off his swollen jaw, “I guess knowledge finds the desperate, aye?”

Riess stared down at him, eyes flat, “So does death, thieving pig.”

Moss snarled and pulled at the restraints, looking Riess in the eye, "Better a pig than a snake!"

He was cut off by another punch to the gut and a hand pushing him down by his neck, folding his torso over his knees. He sucked in air and felt cold metal press against the back of his head.

"That’s enough," The Captain stepped in.

Moss stayed bent and wheezing underneath the gun, hearing the exchange as he watched their boots turn toward one another.

“There’s been a change of plans. Patch him up,” he kneeled in front of Moss with an impish grin, “looks like I do have use for you.”

taglist: @sparrowsage @kixngiggles @honey-is-mesi

(let me know if you would like on or off this list)

#whump fic #whump sseries #pirate whump #tw gun #tw gunshot #tw blood #whump writing #male whumpee #multiple whumpers #dark water by jovi #writeblr #originalfiction

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abohemianinthewood · 6 years

Text

A UnaRobby Manifesto

the UnaRobby

that is I

the Loner

the Una-Robby Manifesto

on Hypocrisy & Pain

Since I know a little about alot,this will no doubt be alot about a little.

But before all that follows, this happened:

There & back again(with apologies to Tolkien)

I was 19 in the summer of '74.

My girlfriend had gone to work with a traveling carnival.

I was unhappy with where my band (Columbus) was at and life in New Oxford in general.

I had been to visit friends in West Lake (Charles),Louisiana in the past and knew that there was access to cheap pot,psilocybin mushrooms,and possible work on the shrimp boats.

One sunny afternoon,in June or July,while Mom worked in her garden unaware of my intent,I packed my knapsack,strapped my sleeping bag to same,took the short walk thru the Wood to Rt 15 and stuck out my thumb.

I was on my way to the adventure of my lifetime,and,I found out in my 30's ,in Mom's eyes,running away from home!

I caught the Lincoln Highway,headed West and got picked up by a friend from New Oxford who was riding with a girl I did not know who later became the mother of my children and they carried me to the other side of Gettysburg.

All along this journey I got picked up by a multitude of different types,from old ladies to young kids to business men.

I shall relate the ones that have stuck in my mind.

Outside of D.C.,probably in Virginia,a long-hair in a VW micro-bus headed for Florida picked me up and took me almost to Jacksonville where I planned on getting Rt 10 to West Lake. He stopped to visit his sister in backwoods Florida.She lived in a Spanish Moss covered area and treated me to tea and energy bars for the next leg of my trip.

That leg was arduous! Long,endless,hot tar,road construction,endless heat exhausting.A young girl in a small car is in my memory from this part.She had the vehicle jam-packed with plants(South American,I believe) which had something to do with her botanical studies in University.She also had a small dog.He had been on the passenger seat until I got in,when she put him on the floor at her feet.He kept sitting on the brake pedal:)

It was night and I was tired,riding in some businessman's car as we crossed over New Orleans . The closest I ever got to that magical city was eyeing it's lights from a car seat on a bridge.

I landed at the foot of the Huey Long bridge,on a beach,early morning of the third day of my trip.I remember a few people cavorting in the water and a bench that looked comfortable,finding a phone booth and calling home to let Mom know where I was.She said,"I figured that's where you went".

I looked up my friends,one of which was living in a tent in a local store's clerk's yard.I moved in with him.We snuck into the house with the air-conditioning whenever Gloria,the clerk, felt kind-hearted.

I signed up for the shrimpers and while waiting to hear back drank a lot of wine and beer and hung out in bars with dirt floors where we were the only whiteboys and fancy discos with sassy high school girls from Lake Charles("Oh,but yes!")

Near the end of August I was tired of waiting to work (and actually not feeling like it),so I repacked my sack,was given a bag of peanut butter sandwiches for the road and headed West on my thumb again.

Somewhere around Houston a strange fellow with a colonoscopy bag and a desire to re-establish himself,gave me a ride all the way to Colorado Springs where my sister was living with her future husband and attending college. Along the way,he picked up two college students who let us stay in their dorm overnite where we drank beer and ate pizza.The driver tried to get them to let him stay there.He did the same in Colorado Springs and my future lawyer frankly told him "no".

I believe I stayed there two days.They lived at foot of Pike's Peak and Ric took me for a drive along the old mountain trails.I had spent the only money I had on a bottle of whiskey,so Barbe lent me $10 to get me home.

She went to school in Denver so she took me there to catch Rt 70 East and homeward.

i passed by the Gateway Arch on foot,in the rain at night.There was also some major ball game nearby at the time.

A carful of Stoners from Weirton,WVa,had been to Indianapolis to pick up a friend and take her home.Somewhere in Indiana they gave me a ride.Her name was Charley and we crashed at her house,they treated me to beers at a local smokey bar and then headed for Three Rivers Stadium to see Suzi Quatro in a daytime concert. i'm quessing they paid my way, cuz I roamed the park area smoking with the crowd and scoring joints to take back as payment to my new-found friends. They then arraigned for a van full of their friends to put me as close to the PA turnpike as possible.

It was raining as i approached the Harrisburg exit.My current ride was traveling on thru so he let me off along the pike and I scaled the fence to get past the toll booths.

i found a phone booth and called home.

Mom came and got me.

i found out later that the Shrimpboats had called for me the day after I left.

And then all this...

http://lonersbloggenses.blogspot.com/2020/07/a-bohemian-in-suburbia.html

Prelude:FEB 28,2009

I’ve been back on ‘theFarm’ for ten years!

I came here to live with Dad in my old Dodge pick-up with a daughter,two cats,Dusky & Grayson,& Lena.The cats died or wandered off,Leenie is buried,Robyn grew up and moved to Boston and I watched my Dad die of cancer.

So,now it’s just me & Japhy and I’m lettin’ him take it easy in his old age.

It’s funny,as a twelve year old boy roaming thru these woods and fields,I never pictured a greying,old man with arthritic hands and a bad back,but today,all I could see was that twelve year old drivin’ a tractor,plantin’ corn,balin’ hay and haulin’ rocks off the fields to pave the back path to the hay fields( which now is beyond gettin back to usefulness,short of gettin a dozer)…and the damn kid is bitchin’ ‘bout the hard work!

Why couldn’t he see what he had?

2011 & on until morning:

I am a solitary man.I have spent my life putting others at arm’s length and reveling in the fact that I am a Loner. This makes me alone.

While keeping that mind-set,I yearn for the companionship of others,yet cringe at the aspect of going out into the real world and being amongst them.

I am the Father of daughters,the son of a Mother,a brother of sisters and hold the role of the Feminine in the highest regard while also feeling the camaraderie of my fellow males in the degradation of that gender.

I am a child of the ‘60’s,a young man of the ‘70’s,a responsible man of the ‘80’s,a falling and re-discovering man of the ‘90’s and an aging man in this Millennium.

I am sure of myself and I am confused.

I hold dear the radicalism of my youth,yet feel that nothing has changed and i have not been the change i wished to see.

I am a patriot who hates my country.

I am a Socialist and a Communist who holds no regard for those countries existing under said ideologies.

I am an arthritic old man who wants to quit,but can’t.

I worship my body and i abuse it,

i love Nature and I abuse it.

i believe in a work ethic,but i am lazy.

i believe in Solidarity,but prefer Solitude.

I am a Bohemian in the Wood.

4/4/15

a puppy grew up just the other day

and he looked at me,eyes wide,as if to say

I know that it’s a holiday

but if it’s OK with you I’d like to go out and play

cuz there’s squirrels and birds and rabbits and stuff

and laying on this couch ain’t enuf,dad

you know I’d rather be out there

cuz there’s cats in the barn and deer in the woods

little tennis balls and poop that tastes good

I’ll be playin’ hard and you know that I should

and I’d sure like ya out here with me,dad

ya know I want to be with you…

KIKI

the year was 2005.

my dad died that summer.

my daughter informed me that when she went back to school she was getting an apartment and staying in Boston.

I noticed a sign on my way home from work one day.

it was a board advertising low-priced massages from therapy students at a school in the basement of my bank.

seeing it everyday got me thinking that that would be a nice treat for myself .

every Friday morning after work,what a great way to start the weekend!

I never took the first steps and probably never would have,but,I mentioned my thoughts to my daughters and that Christmas,received a gift certificate to said place!

that lead me to getting a weekly therapeutic massage,every Friday ,after work,with a nice woman,close to my age.

turned out the school owner was a distant relative.

I became a regular in a friendly and relaxing environment.

that summer my regular girl graduated and took work in Maryland (a long drive away)

I had several fill-ins and then was introduced to a young girl who became my new regular.

she was as old as my youngest daughter.

a new mom

black earrings and hair and eye-liner.gothic/emo/punk

very quiet,but,as weeks went by,we began talking,getting to know a bit about each other and her skills impressed and relaxed me as she learned and became proficient at her chosen art.

she graduated and started work at a spa.

I followed her there.

we got to know each other even better.

several years later,she became pregnant with her second child and left the profession to concentrate on her family.

we remained in contact,as I continued therapy with other people at the spa.

one day she asked if I wanted to come to her home as a client,as her daughter was getting to need less constant care and her husband was available to watch the kids while I received my massage.

that was one of the happiest messages I ever got!

I continued my therapy with her.

i got to know her family and our friendship blossomed until one day she stated that she considered me to be her best friend.

incredible!

so,that day that my daughters bought me a gift certificate for a free therapeutic massage,they got me much more.

they gave me a friend.

7/24/2015

I try so hard to, not be a part of, that it hurts

8/21/16-thoughts after a tourista wknd…sometimes, I suppose, one needs to get out amongst the masses in order to remember why we retreat from them.

10/15/16-the Ides of October

fellow employee:“why don’t you work overtime?”

me:”why should I?”

fellow employee:”to make more money”…

and there-in lies the problem with Society as a whole.The making of money.The desire for more, more, more.

I was born into and manage to exist in a capitalist World,that sees the acquirement of money as the end goal.

The acquisition of money leads to crime,imprisonment,poverty,war and all the plagues of man.

I need to make money to supply myself with basic needs and I keep my wants to a minimum.

Why would anyone need to float on the oceans with access to a ferris wheel and a waterslide!

why would anyone need a home that has gold walls!

why do towers need to reach to the sky!

a roof, food and modest entertainment and I am satisfied.

OH! and trees.

Dec 10th,2016

Several friends have been posting pix of their younger years and that has tended to make me feel nostalgic.

I have few regrets in my Life,so far, and I come here to mention only one of those.

I do have many ‘what ifs’…. What if I had opted for college rather than the Work Force?

What if I never tried drugs? What if I had spent that summer in the Village instead of West Lake ? What if my hands had slipped under those railroad bridges or on that hair trigger?…

But,I digress.

The regret that I have of my wild, irresponsible, late teen-early twenties is that there was no Chronicler.

No one carried cameras!

I would love to see pictures of Jeff and Dan of my first work crew. Are there pix of the rock band,Columbus and when we jammed at Joe’s garage? Hell,I don’t even have any of my Ludwigs :(

What about congregations on the square,Mandy, the inside of the house I shared with Denny and Gilbert and the freaky flock of friends who frequented same?

The apartment I moved into with my first serious girlfriend,Andy & Bev,Bear,the ‘great whiskey and mescaline party’.

Those two trailers, the keggers, the shooting galleries, hardwood floors,poopy sheepdogs,marijuana window boxes and gardens.

Lep’s hearse,Tim’s John Deere Harley,the VW station wagon, my ’64 Valiant.

Terry Lee,Betty pregnant…

But,nobody carried cameras, so I must hope that the images in brain suffice.

8/27/17

I have been retired since Nov.18th of last year and I am diggin’ it!