#paid senior citizen living homes
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As we age, our physical and mental health start to decline, making it difficult to carry out our daily activities independently. This is where senior citizen homes or old age homes come in to provide assistance and care to the elderly.
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Book luxurious retirement homes with more greenery and special amenities in Hyderabad for senior citizens. Senior citizen homes by Saket Pranamam assures amazing experience for the post retirement life. Experience the pleasure of living a happy retired life!
Saket Pranamam - Senior Citizens Retirement Homes in Hyderbad.
#senior citizen homes near me#paid senior citizen living homes#senior citizens home#senior residences#retirement homes in hyderabad
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Paid Senior Citizen Living Homes - Fully Furnished Home | The Golden Estate
Paid senior citizen living home refers to accommodation for people over the age of 55 Golden Estate offers convenient services, senior-friendly design features, and access to social activities. Many facilities also provide medical assistance and holistic healthcare. Joint family structure with the support of helpers who looked after the elderly.
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Good Old Age Homes In India
Your retirement can be as fruitful as your youth with good health; you need good exercise, nutritious food and, more importantly, great people. Choose Primus Senior Living for good old age homes in India, where residents can enjoy a fulfilling retirement with access to quality healthcare, engaging activities, and a supportive community.
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Crazy For You, Oh Boy
Summary: Nightowl dotes on you when you come to visit.
[Established Relationship] [Long-Distance Relationship] [Domestic Fluff] [Reunions] [Pet Names] [Kissing] [Cuddling & Snuggling] [Literal Sleeping Together] [Sexual Innuendos] [Househusband Energy] [No use of y/n] [Fem Reader]
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Notes:
This is super rambly and drawn out but it's just loads of Nightowl fluff. Would appreciate feedback as I'd like to keep writing lil fics for my favorite Blooming Panic boy, carpal tunnel allowing.
Also, obligatory character playlist plug because I love it. Title comes from a lyric from a song on there :)
Reposted from AO3
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You impatiently stared out of the window as the car turned into the parking lot of an apartment complex. As it comes to a halt, you could not have gotten out of it sooner. Grabbing your backpack, you thanked the driver before closing the door. You went around to the back, opened the trunk, and hauled out a duffel bag. As overworked as you were, your wallet be damned if you paid for a checked bag, not that you really needed it anyway. Slamming the trunk closed, the car drove off. With your backpack on and the world's heaviest duffel bag slung over your shoulder, you practically ran towards the entrance of the building.
Once inside, you rocked your feet back and forth as you waited for the elevator to come to the ground floor. While your destination was only one floor away, your cargo would kill you before making it up half a flight of stairs, not to mention how much a long, cramped flight takes out of you. After an agonizing wait, the elevator arrived with a ding. You hopped in and repeatedly pressed the door close button, knowing full well that doing so would not speed up the process at all. Pent-up excitement was being taken out on your phone via death grip as the elevator went up. Another ding allowed your phone to live another day. With an exit now available, your speed walking to your destination rivaled that of senior citizens at the mall at 7 in the morning. Halting yourself in front of the door, you knocked.
“Hold on!” Nightowl shouted from the other side. Some faint chaos bleed through the door for a moment before the door swung open. You immediately flung yourself onto the person in front of you, enveloping him in a bear hug forceful enough to push him back a step or two. “Woah, hey there, cutie. I missed you so much,” he laughed, reciprocating the hug with the same amount of love.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you more, sweetheart,” you spoke into his neck. The two of you stayed in the hug a moment longer before moving slightly apart, still enough to hold each other. Nightowl leaned down for a kiss, that you happily gave. Though short, both of you had been dying for it.
“Glad you’re back home, things just feel so off when you’re not here.”
“I know, just a few more months, and we never have to do this again,” you smiled at him, lifting yourself slightly for another kiss. When you broke apart, a playful pout was on his face.
“Why can't you just stay here now,” he whined, tightening his grip on your waist slightly. Even after finishing his graduate program, he still acted like a little kid at times. You loved his playful demeanor, though.
“Because my sadist job is trying to kill me before I can leave,” you responded, starting to sway the two of you. “At least the new one will be much better.”
“Mmh, can’t wait till then. But, in the meantime, I will be a chivalrous gentleman and take your bags so that you can take a nice, long shower. I’ll order some food after, and we can have a quiet night in.”
“Ah, you’re truly wonderful, darling.”
“Only the best for you, cutie,” he said, giving you a peck on the lips.
Letting go of each other, you immediately dropped your bags onto the floor and handed Nightowl your phone. While you kicked off your shoes, Nightowl took your bags back to the bedroom. You quickly made your way back to the bathroom. With as often as you visited, it was easier to get a second shower brush and share toiletries than lug your own back and forth. Given that Nightowl wasn’t the 20-in-1 type of guy, you didn’t have to worry about your hair being dry and skin breaking out.
As you took your long-deserved shower, Nightowl put himself to work unpacking your things. Putting your clothes in his closet, your phone and laptop on his desk and charging them, accessories on his own stands, and whatever else you had brought in their rightful places. While the majority of the time he wouldn’t do these things for himself, for you, he spends a full day getting his place clean up for your arrival. Not to say that he was a slob, but the life of an architect could be very demanding. He sometimes joked with himself that if his carrier fell through he would be the perfect househusband for you.
Eventually, your shower ended and you went across the hall in your towel to get changed. Walking into the bedroom, you’re greeted with Nightowl laying on the bed, scrolling through the several options on DoorDash. He looked up at you and grinned. “You’re looking good, cutie. I unpacked everything for you while you were in there.”
“Absolutely wonderful you are,” you hummed, making your way over to the closet to pick out something to throw on for the night.
“For you, anything,” He stared at you, nothing but adoration filling his eyes as you grabbed your clothes. “Want me to close my eyes?”
“If you don’t mind,” you responded. Although you have seen each other in every state of undress imaginable, he still felt the importance of privacy whenever wanted. You appreciated his care, especially given your history of mediocre relationships with people who couldn’t bother with those sorts of things. When he closed his eyes, you quickly got yourself dressed in a random t-shirt of indeterminate ownership and the sluttiest pair of plaid pajama pants you could find. “You’re good now,” you spoke, starting to dry your hair off with the towel you wore into the room. At your command, Nightowl opened his eyes to look at you once more.
“I think I like this combo better than the towel.”
“I tried with the pants.”
“And you succeeded,” he chuckled. “So, did you think over what you want for dinner?”
“Hmm,” you began as you continued to dry your hair, “You craving anything?”
Nightowl shook his head, “Not really, I’m good with whatever.”
“Then can we get something from that one Chinese place over by that one bookstore?” you asked cheerfully.
“Sure thing, cutie. The usual?”
“Yes, please. Thank you, love!”
Nightowl went back to his phone to place your order while you went back to the bathroom to hang your towel. When you returned, he set his phone down and patted the spot next to him. You lay down next to him, moving closer to lay your head on his chest.
Nightowl wrapped an arm around your waist. “How was your flight?" he asked.
"About as good as it can get with two babies on board."
"Aw man, sorry you got stuck with that.”
"At least your neighbors don't have kids."
"I don't think I could have made it through grad school if they did. I hope the shower relaxed you some though," he said, starting to rub your stomach with his thumb slightly.
"Not as much as lying here with you right now," you smiled at him.
“Pretty girl on my chest and she’s this sweet? I won at life being able to have you all to myself.” Your face went pink at his words. Although he said things like that all the time, it never failed to make you feel like a dumb teenager when he did. The best you could do was let out a small whine in response. “Aww, and you’re all flustered by that? You’re killing me here, cutie.”
“Oh, shush, it’s just 'cause I haven’t seen you in months.”
“Sure, if you say so,” he hummed.
The two of you continued to talk about random topics as you waited for your dinner. Due to the wonders of technology and neither of you possessing the ability to be okay with not calling every day, there wasn’t anything exactly big to catch up on. A little while longer went by until Nightowl got a notification that the driver was at the building. The two of you got up, he to acquire the food, and you to grab drinks and pick out the entertainment you would be promptly ignoring. After a decent look in the fridge, you grabbed two beverages of choice and plopped yourself onto the couch.
You waited a moment longer before Nightowl came back with the food. He brought the bag to the couch and rummaged through it to hand you your food along with a pair of chopsticks graciously provided by the restaurant. You, starving, started eating before he even got around to opening his food.
“God, I’ve missed this so much,” you started between chews, “Seriously, this place has the best Chinese food I’ve ever had.”
“And here I was thinking you meant eating takeout with me,” he joked.
“I suppose I missed that too, but I don’t know, this lo mein is pretty fucking good,” you shot back. With his free hand, Nightowl placed a hand on his chest and leaned back, closing his eyes.
“Oh, I can’t believe she loves egg noodles more than me!” he remarked. You giggled a bit in response.
“Fine, perhaps I love the current activity more than egg noodles.”
“Just the activity?”
“You’re not gonna make me say this, are you?”
“How else would I know if you don’t say it out loud, to my face?” The little antic of his was one reminiscent of one faithful night in the call channel of the Bloomic server. Over time, you learned that he loved to pull this type of line either to get you flustered over little things or annoy the shit out of you.
“Fine, I definitely absolutely, love you, Nightowl, more than egg noodles or eating egg noodles in your presence,” you playfully groaned out.
“You hear that? She loves me more than egg noodles!” he shouted. You smiled at his response. Though a cute moment, it was quickly ended by a banging from the wall in front of you.
“Shut the fuck up in there!” A neighbor shouted through the wall. The two of you stared at each other in surprise before Nightowl yelled a quick apology back.
“That’s the second neighbor you’ve pissed off by boasting about my love for you,” you said after a moment.
“I would happily piss off several more if it means I can brag about you,” he said, going back to finish his food, “Granted, as long as it doesn’t get me evicted.”
You chuckled. “Good call.”
As time went on, you continued mindless banter accompanying the completion of your meals. Even once finished, the two of you sat together and talked for what seemed like forever. You even managed to squeeze out some information, albeit, fairly vague, about the dates he had planned for the two of you during your stay. At some point, all the travel and excitement of the day had gotten the better of you. While you did try to hide it, a yawn gave your state of energy away to Nightowl.
“I saw that, cutie. A queen needs her beauty sleep.”
“Says you.”
“I’ll have you know that I still get my full 8 hours every night,” he asserted.
You chuckled, which turned into another yawn. “Maybe so, but you still live life in another time zone.”
“When you’re here, it gets a bit more normal.”
“Really?” you thought for a moment, “Huh, I guess it does. Wonder why?”
“Maybe it’s cause I worry about your well-being in terms of sleep so much that it rubs off on me,” he pondered.
“If taking care of me gets you to take care of yourself, then I'm all for it,” you smiled at the sweetness of it all.
Nightowl got up and started collecting the empty containers, “You go on to bed, I’ll meet you there in a minute.”
“You sure?”
“Mhm, you come first, cutie.”
You got up from the couch, “Absolutely the best to me.”
You cupped his face, giving him a peck on the cheek before making your way to bed. Little did you know, but that small act of affection melted Nightowl’s heart. Blushed, he took a moment from cleaning up to compose himself. He didn’t exactly know why he reacted with the fuzzy, teenager-in-love feeling, but he welcomed it nonetheless. He picked up the pace to join you just slightly sooner.
While he was finishing up, you had practically thrown yourself into bed, the exhaustion finally hitting you. You got yourself comfortable and passed the time looking around the room, studying what’s changed since you last visited. Though a tad boring, you didn’t exactly possess the brain power to check your phone and retain anything.
Eventually, a blonde figure caught the corner of your eye. You turned to face your beloved Nightowl as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He turned off a small desk lamp, allowing the fairy lights over his bed to illuminate the room. You sleepily pat the spot next to you, which he happily filled, snuggling as close to you as he could. The sparking of the lights above the two of you reflected in his brown eyes. Even in your extremely groggy state, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your boyfriend.
“You ready to sleep?” he mumbled, seeming to try to hide a yawn of his own.
“Yeah,” your eyes were already fluttering closed. Nightowl brought an arm around you and planted a kiss on the top of your head. “Maybe tomorrow you can be the activity I love.”
“I will most definitely make sure that becomes true,” he smiled, “Goodnight, cutie.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
The warm lights illuminated the two of you drifting off to sleep together for the first time in months. All became still in that apartment, and for a night, all was right in the world.
#blooming panic#bloomic#blooming panic fanfic#bloomic fanfic#nightowl#blooming panic nightowl#bp nightowl#bloomic nightowl#blooming panic x reader#nightowl x reader#bp nightowl x reader#bloomic nightowl x reader#sfw
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So I’ve finally finished season 4 of Clone Wars! Since the episode order is mostly lining up with the chronology, I can put my thoughts down into something resembling organized.
Mon Cala arc
-can that prince please not pronounce his own homeworld’s name like that? he calls it moan cala and i hate it
-it wasn’t necessary for the plot to work, but I’m curious about the history between the cala and the quarren. i wish we got some more details on why relations are tense
-the animators were clearly out of their depth (ha) with the setting. some parts felt like they didn’t know how to translate the usual fighting to an aquatic setting
-the story was satisfying, but I doubt this is anyone’s favorite set of episodes
-i can feel the gungans growing on me. not sure how I feel about that
Shadow Warrior
-how dare this show make gungans tolerable. coming into my home and making me okay with jar jar fucking binks
R2 and C3P0 duology
-some fun moments!
-would show it to my young cousins but at my age, it goes on a little too long. I’m not looking for/expecting deep meditations on war (American War by Omar el Akkad if that’s what you are interested in), but this is more in the kids show category than the family show one most episodes fall under
Umbara arc
-this is what I mean by being a family show vs a kids show
-I love this arc
-and Rex really gets fleshed out as a character in this one
-i didn’t get why people hated krell so much. i get it now. he’s like the umbridge of Star wars
-the tech designs for umbara and umbaran tech are pretty slick, i hope they get a cameo in live action some day
-the krell twist was. okay ig? it comes out of nowhere a bit. sure, he’s very strict on protocol and has a bone to pick with clones, but it’s said explicitly, more than once, that he gets results as a commander (paid for in casualties, but still successful). him being a relentless opportunist gets away from the clone thing, and i think digging into that could have been really interesting
Zygerrian Slave Empire
-hm
-not fond of the orientalist imagery in this one. won’t elaborate. i’ll say it’s personal for me and leave it at that
-how Anakin’s history as someone who was once literally enslaved should have been explored more
-this arc has its redeeming moments, but it also has a lot of wasted potential
-I might make a more in depth post someday, I have a lot of half formed thoughts about this one
Friend in Need
-this was a rewatch for me, I saw it when I was getting Mandalorian context for the Grogu and his working single father show
-I notice now that except for Bo Katan, deathwatch is all male. and to me, were implied to be sexually abusing the local women (the village leader mentions them having “taken” their women) maybe that’s what was meant by that infamous “they all died off years ago” re: exile of the warriors. no women, no offspring.
Crisis on Naboo arc
-ooh, I wish we get some more time on how Anakin was affected by Obi Wans faked death
-man, cad bane looks stupid without his hat. cover up that dome baby boy, you aren’t ventress, you cant pull the bald look off
-cad bane saving kenobi/hardeen in the Box. he’s a bad guy all right, but he isn’t entirely without honor. love that trope
-and I love palpatine’s scheming! glad to see a senior citizen staying active and involved
Ventress/Savage Oppress/Maul arc
-i love Assaj Ventress so much it’s unreal
-idc that the nightsisters are on the dark side. i love sisterhoods, i love witches, i love covens, it broke my heat to watch the separatists massacre them. at least mother talzin is still alive.
-i have so much Feeling for ventress. betrayed and abandoned again and again only to lose her sisters, and to feel like it’s her fault
-saving that girl from a forced marriage… ventress I love you.
-they should have let maul keep the spider legs, they looked cool
-I didn’t get the obsession with maul. I don’t really share it, but I do get it now. the raw drive for vengeance, his madness. I’m looking forward to where the writers take him
-obi wan and ventress are a great combo, their dialogue has a lot of chemistry
#star wars#text#star wars clone wars#ahsoka tano#death watch#mandalorian#anakin skywalker#obi wan kenobi#assaj ventress#darth maul#savage oppress#rako hardeen#cad bane#sheev palpatine#captain rex#umbara arc#jar jar binks#Naboo#long post#pong krell#my posts
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Copper Badge/Robber Stripes
A commission for @totalcudgel, who was my first customer outside of my group of friends and very enthusiastic for the whole process! Her sona gets her gender transed and her species swapped by one of her OCs. Hope you enjoy!
CW: TGTF, weight gain, some slightly more visceral descriptions of changes
“Nine-one-one, what is the location of your emergency?”
“Sheriff Sam? Oh, thank God I got someone who actually knows what they’re doing! Do you have any idea how many times I’ve called in and been told to try Animal Control instead?”
“Well, I’m the only one at the station-house at this hour.”
“With overtime, I hope. You’re about to do some real good!”
“Good one. Location of your emergency?”
“Okay, listen. You know the dirt road that forks off from main street? The one everyone uses during game season, goes straight into the woods—”
“Please don’t tell me another deer-headed hiker didn’t get shot by a hunter.”
“No, this is bigger, MUCH bigger! I set up some trail cams just a ways off the trail, and—”
“Sir, I’m not going to tell you to call Animal Control, but I am going to remind you that Bigfoot is a citizen of the United States, and that I cannot arrest him for walking around in his own backyard.”
“It’s not—”
“Kidnapping is kidnapping, even if it’s ‘an anthropological breakthrough’, sir—”
“IT’S NOT BIGFOOT! If you can believe it, it’s weirder than Bigfoot!”
“…Weirder how?” The sheriff sighs, kicking his feet up on the table.
He wasn’t lying—the station was totally dead this late at night, and he most certainly was not paid enough to stay this late and field false alarms all night. Someone had to keep an eye on the town overnight, and none of the other cops were willing to do the job most nights. They were either much younger than himself and had social lives to attend to—plenty of them were fresh out of college and still had drinking buddies, or were looking for someone to settle down with—and those his own age had already done so. As the most senior officer—And the only one with nobody to go home to, he thought, before pushing the self-directed jab out of his mind—he volunteered for the job most nights.
Of course, there were plenty of people whose biological clocks inclined them toward night work, but if they’re more alert at night, they’re better suited to working the beat than to waiting around playing operator. Sam himself was a human, but the station was fairly diverse; no owls, but they’re just the most obvious choice. Coyotes and foxes were plenty active after sunset, and mountain lions were comfortable working before opening and after closing. There were plenty of raccoons around town, as well, though none happened to be on the force. Sam lamented this, in passing. He’d always had a soft spot in his heart for raccoons.
“Soft spot” might be putting it a little bit lightly: most of his crushes and romantic flings had been with raccoon women, and he’d always wondered at the dexterity and agility of the wild, four-legged kind. Something about leaping over fences and scurrying up walls, slinking through the grass just out of sight… His office was littered with knickknacks and decorations that evoked the stripey little critters, which he had always played off as being cops-and-robbers-themed decor to add a little levity to the station-house, but it was fairly safe to say that what he had was a little bit of a fixation. Nothing wrong with that, though—everybody was more interested than usual in something.
“I, look, I don’t know how to explain it, exactly,” stammered the caller, “but I need you to just bear with me. I’ve been called crazy plenty of times, and I know that telling you about all these weird, indistinct linear shapes I saw moving past the trail cam isn’t gonna help much, but BECAUSE it’s on the trail cam, you can just come see it for yourself!” Sam heaved another sigh, looking around at the empty office.
“Fine,” he grumbled into the receiver. It had been a slow night. “Am I going out to the camera itself, or am I meeting you at your—”
“SHIT, it’s back!” the caller cried. Sam could hear him frantically tapping at his keyboard—taking screenshots, maybe, or zooming in, or posting to a forum for conspiracy theorists. He pinched the bridge of his nose.
Don’t you think they’ve seen plenty of those photos, bud? He groaned, internally. You splurge on the good trail cam, or are we gonna have another grey smudge to show for your triumphant discovery? He wondered, briefly, if the town really needed a night guard; it was always something ridiculous like this. But I’ll go even crazier without something like this to keep me busy, and worst case? It’ll be good for a laugh.
“It’s, Sam, I’m telling you—are. Are you laughing?”
“No, no,” the sheriff replied, pretending to clear his throat. “What’re you seeing?”
“You’re not gonna believe it ‘til you see it with your own eyes! It’s just this, this mass of zig-zags and odd angles as it goes by the camera, I—I can’t tell if I’m even looking at something solid! It’s dark, and then light again, in a way that doesn’t quite make sense, somewhere between tendrils and, and some kind of—”
“Alright, alright, I’ll go straight to the camera and tell you what I see.”
“Just don’t hang up! I want to hear every little detail about this crazy thing.”
Begrudgingly, the sheriff obliged, calling him back on his personal cell phone and answering his constant stream of requests for updates during the uneventful drive down main street and to the hunting trail. The camera wasn’t too far into the woods, according to the caller; Sam could just park on the trail and walk a few dozen yards to get there.
“SAM!” shouted the caller. “BE. CAREFUL. I haven’t seen the thing in a little while, but the camera just went black—I think it might’ve broken it, and it’s still nearby!”
“Did you consider that shouting into the phone might be bad for my health, if there’s some unknown creature prowling around?”
“I—”
“Just keep quiet a minute, ‘kay?” Sam muttered, crouching low and turning off his flashlight. The trees were thin here; he was able to navigate by the moonlight, quickly spotting its glint on the metal shell of the camera. It sat nestled into the edge of a bush in the middle of a clearing. It was shoddy camouflage, but at the very least, there were no Bigfoots, Abominable Snowmen, or any other undiscovered form of folk gallivanting around. What he did see, however, was a bushy, striped tail scampering out of the clearing at his approach.
“Well, I hate to be the most recent man to call you crazy,” Sam spoke into his cell, suppressing a pang of distaste for the descriptor—”man”, not “crazy”. “But it seems like we’ve got a false alarm. I just saw a raccoon running away as I walked up.”
“A raccoon?” Spluttered the caller. “But—but the shapes on the camera! They—”
“The shapes were black and white, weren’t they? ‘Dark and light’ all over, lots of squiggly lines?”
“Well, yes, but—but I couldn’t make out any concrete shapes!”
“That’s the point of the stripes, pal. They break up the silhouette so they’re harder for predators to see. Like zebras.”
“Like… zebras?”
“My guess is, it just got too close to the camera for you to make ‘em out clearly,” he continued as his boots crunched across the grass. “Either one raccoon was playing ring-around-the-rosie with your little setup, or a mama was passing by with a line of her kids.” He crouched down again when he was close enough to see the culprit for the camera’s blackout: a cheap little mask, probably fished out of the garbage by one of the little guys. He waved into the camera at the concerned citizen on the other end of the line dangling it up for him to see. “They didn’t break anything, either—just left you a little gift!”
“I… Man, this is a letdown.”
“You’d rather send me alone to fend off some kind of formless alien yeti?”
“Hey, you’re the one who signed up for the dangerous job, aren’t you? It’d be for the greater good of science!”
“Yeah, well, like I told you earlier: kidnapping’s kidnapping, even for science. You have a good night, now.” He heard the beginnings of a huffy retort before he clicked his phone closed, and turned to hike back to his car. He’d keep the mask, he thought; it’d be a cute little keepsake of a funny story like this, and the black eye-ring shape of it would make a perfect addition to his collection. He wondered why a raccoon would be so interested in a camera to begin with.
Maybe it thought it was a can of food? Wouldn’t be the first time someone left trash out here and attracted a wild animal. He scowled. There were signs all over the hunting trail reminding people not to get the wildlife hooked on table food. It would just get him more panicked calls about harmless critters! Well, he shrugged, any night I get to see one of those little guys is a good night. Maybe the hunters being lazy litterbugs isn’t that bad.
He walked back into his office not long after, already thinking of good places to hang his “new” domino mask. His keys were still practically jangling in his pocket when he heard a voice from the—now-open—doorway.
“You really do love raccoons, don’t you?” said the stranger, toward whom Sam immediately wheeled around, letting out a yelp that was decidedly unbefitting of a cop of his stature. His hand flew to his belt for the bear spray he’d brought with him; suddenly, he was glad to have given credence to the town kook, and to have prepared accordingly. Even more than being followed into the building, he was taken aback by the intruder’s appearance: they were a roughly person-shaped mass of light, like a sunbeam stood up from the window it poured in through and started walking around.
“Oh, silly me,” they interrupted themself, “this might be a bit much for a first impression. Sorry for straining your eyes like that!” Sam blinked the light out of his eyes, as reflexive as when one’s eyes pass over the sun, and when he opened them again, he was instead looking at a raccoon person. He didn’t recognize them from town.
“Who… who the Hell are you?”
“Well, we just met a few minutes ago! I know my manners haven’t been at their best tonight—not introducing myself, not knocking—but surely you wouldn’t forget so soon. Maybe you’ll recognize me more easily like this!” Sure enough, the next time Sam blinked, the figure was again replaced, this time by a wild raccoon. “How’s this? Better?”
“Are you—did that guy actually pick up something supernatural on his camera?”
“I’m flattered that you think I’m ‘super’! I think you’re wonderful too, Sam,” the being cooed. “My name is Vello, by the way. Sorry again about that!”
“How do you know my name? How do you—” The sheriff did a double take, gesturing at his office behind him. “—How do you know about the raccoon thing?”
“Word gets around fast in a small town like this, don’t you know?” The critter winked before scampering around the doorframe, out of sight. The glowing figure from before stepped back into view, dimmer this time.
How considerate, Sam grumbled to himself, brow furrowing in both confusion and consternation.
“Why don’t you tell me more about it?” Vello prompted him. Sam felt oddly… exposed, by the request. Awkward. Like someone had stumbled upon a sketchbook, or a journal of poetry drafts, and wanted to see more. Not to mention, a total stranger was doing the asking—but the being seemed so genuine, approached it so gently. “Couldn’t be the weirdest thing you do tonight, could it?”
“Why the interest, anyway?”
“It seems to me that you’ve got some tangled feelings about it!” Sam scowled. Dead to rights. Not like the other officers hadn’t caught him stammering for an excuse about it; he was just pissed that it was so obvious. Hell, though, he reasoned, If God or some shit is in my office, I’d better just roll with it. I doubt the bear spray would actually do anything.
“Well…” The sheriff looked back and forth between the stranger and the stash. He scratched the back of his neck, almost anxious. “I dunno, I’ve always just liked them. It feels like it’s deeper than that, somehow, but… that’s weird, right? I try not to talk about it too much, try not to think about it too much. I don’t wanna creep anybody out—there are raccoons all over town, right? I try to just enjoy them in a… in a normal way. I guess.”
“Normal? You say ‘normal’ like you mean ‘good’, dear. ‘Acceptable’. What makes you think that your feelings aren't acceptable?” Sam winced.
“Well, pal, the fact that I have to try not to talk about it too much. I, uh…I think about raccoons a lot.”
“Oh, I know you do!”
Sam blinked, then blinked again. At first, he thought that he’d been stalked the old-fashioned way. Vello was real cozy talking about all this, though, including stuff that even a stalker couldn’t figure out. Given what he’d just done to show off, he might literally know his thoughts. Not that that’s any more comfortable, he groused.
“I really don’t mean to intrude,” Vello apologized, “but—”
“Then what the Hell are you doing it for right now?”
“Oh, no, I could tell just by looking at your face! The raccoons, though—that I could tell just being near you. There’s a reason it was my first choice of disguise earlier!”
“So that was you on the trail cam.”
“Well, I hadn’t realized there was a camera. I hope I didn’t cause the one who called you too much discomfort; looking at me when I’m not decent tends to… give people a headache.”
“Didn’t seem any crazier than usual to me,” Sam shrugged.
“Wonderful! Enough about your friend, then,” he said as Sam rolled his eyes, “What could be wrong with thinking often about something you love?” Sam’s cheeks grew warm at the choice of words—was affection even the right way to describe the way he felt about raccoons?
“Well, like I said, I don’t want to make anybody else uncomfortable. You hear about cat people all the time, sure, but raccoons are certainly more… out there, as an animal to associate yourself with. Not to mention all the people around town who happen to be raccoons.”
“Are you afraid they’ll think you have…” Vello’s voice took on a conspiratorial hush, like a father giving their thirteen-year-old a talk about how to stay safe while dating. “...a ‘thing’ for raccoons?”
“I don’t want to make them feel objectified,” Sam replied bluntly, rehearsedly.
“Have you ever dated a raccoon, Sam?” The heat in Sam’s cheeks intensified, and he looked away from Vello again.
“...I’ve only dated raccoons.”
“And did you ever treat them like objects?”
“Of course not!” He snapped, whipping his head back around to face the glowing shapes “I gave ‘em all the world, when I had ‘em! But…” Vello waited patiently for him to find his words, finally offering some when it seemed like none were coming.
“But it just never felt right?”
“...No.”
“And what about it didn’t feel right about it?”
“Me, if I’m being honest. I was happy as could be with those ladies, but… I dunno. I guess I never felt good enough for them, or… like I couldn’t be myself around them?”
“How so?”
“Well, I suppose you wouldn’t know anything about it, since you seem to be able to be anybody you want,” Sam began. Vello cocked his head at the remark, but continued listening. “But being ‘me’ feels sort of like an act. Not like I’m pretending, really—I’m not trying to lie to anybody—but I feel like I’ve got a mask on around them all the time.”
“What are some things that you feel are part of that mask, Sam?”
“That right there, for one. Never felt too strongly about my name. But who the Hell am I without it, right? Can’t just decide to be somebody else.”
“Whyever not? People change their names all the time. For fun, for marriage, for a fresh start.” Sam grunted in acknowledgment, thoughtful. Vello prodded him further: “Do you have a name you’d prefer?”
“Hmm,” he grunted again. His lip curled—not out of contempt for the idea, but reluctance to dig deeper.
“Anything at all come to—”
“Sally.”
“Sally?”
“Sally.”
“A lovely choice,” Vello beamed. Literally. “May I ask—”
“I don’t really know. It’s just a name my brain keeps coming back to, same way it comes back to raccoons. I figured, if it’s so special to me, that I’d name my daughter that someday, but if you’re asking what other name I’d pick for myself… this is the closest one to feeling like a part of me.”
“As good a reason as any!”
“Shame I couldn't use it.”
“Oh? Why would that be?”
“Because I’m not a woman?” Sam said plainly, turning up a palm and quirking an eyebrow at Vello.
“Do you wish you could be called Sally?”
“What is this, some genie shit?”
“Of course not!” Vello laughed at that, a good-natured, from-the-belly kind of laugh. “I mean, I grant wishes, but there’s no need for that kind of formality!”
“Right,” Sam muttered, skeptical.
“I’m just curious about what it is that you want! If calling yourself Sally would make you happier, then why shouldn’t you? Actually, don’t answer that—I don’t think it’d be very productive to go back and forth about names being fake and all that.”
“Fake?”
“What, do you think I was born with a name you folk from around here could pronounce? I picked it myself!”
“Why Vello, then?”
“I liked the ring of it,” he chirped.
“Huh. That simple?”
“That simple.” Sam crossed his arms, looking at the floor in thought for a moment. Before he could convince himself out of that promising, tantalizing train of thought, Vello pushed further. “May I ask what else you wish you could change about yourself?”
“I don’t know where I’d start, bud.”
“May I make a suggestion.”
“Sure,” the sheriff scoffed. “Shoot.”
“If you’re envious of a feminine name, is it possible that you’re envious of other feminine traits? Or perhaps even, the traits you find admirable in raccoons?”
“Envious? No, no, it’s sorta like what other people describe when they talk about love. The butterflies, the nerves, the excitement. When You talk about jealousy, especially from girls wishing they were ‘as pretty as hose other girls’, it always comes off… bitter. Angry, sometimes. I’ve never felt that way looking at one of my exes, and definitely never when I look at a wild raccoon.”
“Ah,” begins Vello, “but that isn’t quite true, is it? Even with the wild ones, don’t the stripes seem lovely? Don’t you find their faces cuter than any other animal—haven’t you wondered what a snout like that would feel like? How you would look if the rings around your eyes were natural, instead of from exhaustion? Haven’t you ever thought, just once, that a tail like that would suit you nicely?”
“...I wouldn’t say it’d suit me,” he began hesitantly, then reluctantly added: “But I have thought, on occasion, that it might be fun to have.”
“And when you were with those women, wasn’t there something more than the attraction?”
“I don’t see what you mean. Wouldn’t that just mean… loving them very strongly? That wasn’t the issue; I said earlier, my problem was that I didn’t feel like myself around them, even if they made me happy.”
“Think about why you didn’t feel like yourself, dear. When you were near them, wasn’t there a nagging feeling of wishing you could be even closer than skin-to-skin? Didn’t you wish you could see what they saw, feel what they felt? Perhaps you thought of it in terms of… wondering what made them seem so genuine, compared to what made you feel so artificial?”
Sam crossed his arms. Once again: dead to rights. He didn’t like the feeling.
“I know I promised I wouldn’t keep poking around in there,” Vello acquiesced, keeping his hands where the sheriff could see them, “but it seems like you need a little help connecting those dots, friend.”
“So what are you suggesting? That, because I’m always coming back to this… obsession, with raccoons, that it’s like the name I picked out?” His heart quickened as he brushed closer and closer to those feelings—ones he had spent a long time trying to ignore, out of concern for appearances or out of cold practicality for his unfortunate, but immalleable, reality.
It was like feeling a statue under a tarp—acquainted, almost by heart, with all the shapes underneath, but being afraid to pull the fabric away. Afraid that he would lay eyes on it, and never be able to forget its beauty, never be able to stop longing to bask in its beauty. Afraid that he would have to leave it behind anyway. It had been better to leave it, covered, in the corner of his mind where he could safely ignore it; the gentle, knowing tilt of Vello’s head told him that he wasn’t the only one aware of its presence.
Maybe, with someone else who could appreciate the work of art for what it was, he could bear to tear away the tarp.
“Maybe you’re onto something, then,” Sam continued, shakily. “I lay awake thinking about my exes, thinking about all these tacky striped clothes and pelt hats and everything. I think about them, and while I love them—I cared a lot about those girls, and I think the critters are a wonderful part of nature—love isn’t the only thing I feel. It’s like when you think about your hobby, or how I used to get when I thought about graduating from the police academy. There’s a passion. Like I’m the starring kid in a musical, and they’re playing the number about all his hopes and dreams on my heartstrings.”
“Now I think you’re starting to get it,” Vello encouraged him; he had waited patiently while Sam mulled it over, and nodded along as he finally opened up. “So, Sam—”
“Sally,” the sheriff blurted out, eyes fixed on the being like a lost sailor watches the North Star. “Please.”
“Sally, dear,” Vello corrected himself. Something about hearing the name directed at her made her head swim a little; it was like receiving applause after one’s first time playing onstage. Did she just feel recognized? Seen? How did just a taste of being treated like a woman feel so… right? “What is it that you want?”
“You said you grant wishes?” Sally choked.
“I can help you, yes!”
“No monkey’s paw nonsense? No ironic genie rules?”
“Heavens, no. I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you—or have had this conversation with any others like you—if I didn’t want to help. No ifs, ands, or buts, no strings attached.”
“Can you do it for me? Can you… Can I try being like them?”
“Just tell me what you want to try first,” Vello said, a smile palpable on his featureless face.
“Let’s start… let’s start with the tail,” she resolved.
“Would you do me just one favor, first?”
“You said no strings,” Sally said, warily.
“It’s not a string, per se. Just something I think will be fun! Help you get into the experience, maybe.” The sheriff sighed.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Why don’t you put this on?” Vello grinned, holding up the little domino mask. Sally patted her pockets—she hadn't set it down anywhere, but she didn’t have it anymore. It was the same one. What the Hell was with this guy? If she weren't in the makings of a great mood, she’d have snatched it out of his glowing hands. “C’mon. Worst case, it’ll be good for a laugh.”
“Pfft. Fine,” she said, cracking a begrudging smile. She snatched it—playfully—from him and reached up to tie it around the back of her head. “Is it working? Do I look like a raccoon yet?”
“You tell me! Do you feel any different?” She opened her mouth to tell him no, of course not, you wingnut, but all that came out was a surprised little yip. The small of her back felt strange, like there was pressure under the skin. Her belt was suddenly uncomfortably tight, and her shirt, tucked neatly into her waistband like it normally was, began to rumple and come loose as though something were snaking its way out of her pants. She could feel—could move—something, though the sensation was indirect, sort of foreign, like wiggling her ears. It wasn’t long enough for her to see yet, even if she tugged her shirt up and craned around to look down over her shoulder.
“Lord, this thing is itchy,” she griped.
“Oh, careful! Don’t scratch that while it’s still growing in,” Vello cautioned. “That would be, uh, your spine.” She winced and endured the sensation, a growth spurt pushing out instead of up. Her tailbone gave a downright strange crunching sensation as it stretched, then split, into a new vertebra; her skin pulled like taffy as it slid further away from the base of her spine, making way for the next new disc, then the next, then the next. A shudder shot through her each time, hammering against the base of her skull.
She felt the unmistakable sensation of a five o’clock shadow all along the new limb, followed by prickles all over, like a million tiny blades of grass tickling her skin. For each new vertebra, a new ring around her tail. Soon enough, she had a brand-new, puffy little appendage sitting just above her rear, long enough for her to wrap around her waist and examine firsthand. It was surreal, flicking around in her hands, like one of those demonstrations she’d seen of robots being controlled by their inventor’s thoughts. To reach out and touch it, to see something so fluffy and cute and feel both the fur between her fingers and the fingers in her fur—something clicked into place in her brain. This was hers. It was her.
“This is…” Sally fumbled, awestruck and frankly so overwhelmed—so surprised that she was overwhelmed, that this felt so good—that she struggled for the words. “This is really something. You, uh, you said that was my spine stretching out?”
“Mhm!”
“So you can’t just, y’know, poof a tail onto me?”
“No ma’am,” he explained, shooting more sparks right into her brain. “I can only really move things around. It looks like I change instantly when I do it because I don’t have your anatomical concerns. You, I have to be more careful with! Don’t want to hurt you, now do we?”
“And here I thought having your bones twisted and moved around like that would’ve hurt like Hell.”
“I’m being very careful,” he beamed.
“Right.” She was well past questioning anything Vello said, at this point. The results spoke for themselves.
“So?”
“Uh, so?”
“So what’s next?” He pushed, excitedly.
“Oh! Oh um, shit, let’s see,” she searched her thoughts frantically, so swept up in the thrill of everything that she nearly forgot to be flustered at her next proposition. “Can we try making me more… ah, shit,” she said, rubbing her face with her hands, bracing to spit it out. “More ladylike?”
“Certainly! Any specific requests?”
“Well, all the girls I’ve had eyes for have been on the heavier side. Maybe if I like having a soft tail so much, I’ll like being a soft woman too!” she said, half-joking, full of enthusiasm. “Do I have to, y’know, do something else like the mask, or…?”
“Oh, no. I can just—” Vello began, trailing off with a vague gesture in Sally’s direction.
“Woah.” Immediately, she began to feel changes: her hips creaked as they widened, and her once-broad shoulders groaned as they pinched inward toward her spine, narrowing and sloping downward. Her legs lengthened a few inches, snapping and squeaking like rhubarb or bamboo as her bones warped under Vello’s guidance, and her torso shortened by a few more inches than that. She was smaller overall, and a touch more slender, but much leggier in comparison. Her legs began to fill out as well. Her thighs, at first, merely brushed against each other as she shifted her weight around, her eyes darting from limb to body and back in wonder; within moments, they were like pillows stuffed in a bag from a furniture store, straining against the confines of her work pants and pressed firmly against each other, even with her feet slightly apart.
The changes progressed further and further up her body, testing her pants’ limits even more harshly as her rear softened and grew. If she hadn’t just sprouted a tail, she’d have found the weight in the area to be an unfamiliar sensation; even with her five whole minutes of experience, she quickly had to learn to adjust her balance. Finally, the button gave way, and the zipper was torn open by the force of her growing hips. Even so, the garment was stuffed taut and drawn tight as a suspension bridge, and even so, her butt bounced slightly when she moved. She knew that if she were in the nude, it’d be wobbling outright—rippling, even.
Next was her shirt’s turn to be put through its paces. Her tummy changed gradually at first: the outline of the bottom of her ribs softened, then faded away entirely; her flat stomach grew to a bit of a bump, then began to squish down the tiniest bit under its own weight; a muffin top began to spill over the waist of her pants. Quickly, rolls started forming—her belly had grown soft enough to fold, to pool on top of itself. When she moved, her stomach took half a second to catch up to her, and its weight was palpable as she turned to admire her burgeoning figure. The way it stretched her button-up looked almost like an over-stuffed plushie: pulled tight in a way that seemed like you could sink your hand into it, and like it would make for an excellent pillow.
Her chest grew in much the same way, starting out as a single extra layer of padding and becoming larger, more rounded, bound more strongly by gravity as they expanded. Perky at first, they quickly became heavy enough to squish down onto themselves, though, supported by her tummy as they were, they still seemed plenty bouncy. Her nipples puffed up beneath her shirt, becoming broader and softer—right up until her chest filled out the top of her button-up, and they were pressed to tightly against the fabric as to be plainly visible through it. Another button gave, zipping right past Vello, and then another. Her face grew flushed at the sight of her own cleavage; the way she was enraptured by every little bounce with her breathing, by the way her shirt cupped and supported them, it was like she was a teenager seeing her first pair in person all over again. Except these, she got to keep!
A few final changes happened above her shoulders: her brows thinned, her cheeks filled out, and her Adam’s apple just about disappeared with one flustered gulp. She tested her new voice, shaky from excitement though it was:
“Listen, Vello,” she began, face burning. Her voice still carried years of wear, exhaustion, but it was a bit higher itched; a raspy contralto instead of her old gravelly grumble. “I know you have a real good read on the things I enjoy—and please don’t mistake me, I am enjoying this—but I don’t think this much of a figure is… office-appropriate.”
“No? But, dear, you aren’t too encumbered by the new changes, are you? You can still run well enough, especially with legs like those, and—”
“No, trust me when I say that this is… exceptionally curvy, for us mere mortals. Maybe it’s just me, another one of those things I was worried about being creepy over, but… can we just dial it back a little with the body fat?”
“Well, as long as it’s what you want. I can’t say I understand, though. You seemed thrilled about it just a second ago!” Vello waved again, and Sally lost a cup size, two waist sizes, and a few inches off her inseam. She breathed a sigh of relief, and her clothes finally stopped screaming for mercy.
“There’s such a thing as too excited about a body, Vello.” He looked at her blankly—even more than you would expect for someone without a face.
“I guess I just wouldn’t get it.”
“Maybe not,” she said, fiddling with her tail, “but get this!” She turned around, having wrapped her new raccoon rings ‘round her neck like a boa. “Isn’t this cute?”
“Oh, that’s an excellent idea! If you like your new fur so much, we could cover the rest of you in it!” Sally’s heart began to pound again at the suggestion.
“Yes. Let it rip, mister genie, make that my third wish! I think I know the answer already, but I wanna find out for sure if what I liked about those ladies really did run deeper than skin-to-skin!”
“Silly,” Vello chuckled, “I already told you I’m no genie! But your wish is my command,” he obliged her, dramatically waving his fingers around as though he was casting the final part of some grand spell.
First, her skin began to tingle—all over, just like when Vello started to grow her tail, she felt the ticklish, pokey sensation all over. Goosebumps formed on her skin, running from the base of her skull all the way to her toes, and from each little bump erupted a thick, strong follicle of fur, cascading along her body in bands of black, white, and all the shades of gray in between.
Her toes themselves also began to change: she felt a dull pressure in her feet, like the kind she had felt after a long car ride without a chance to stretch her legs. Along the bottoms of her feet, the skin thickened into paw pads; when she looked down at her hands, she saw much the same thing, and likewise felt pressure building there, like she had gone too long without cracking her knuckles. She extended her fingers, gently, and then flexed them—one by one, they crunched and popped, becoming thicker, rounder as they curled. The bones in the delicate joints slid past each other, shortened, grew stouter, and by the time they were done, they were a cute little pair of paws, each digit topped with a retractable claw.
The changes in her legs were more extensive than that, however; they would continue all the way up her legs and up into her hips. Her ankles cracked, tarsal bones gnashing against each other as they began to borrow length from her shins, and they strained as more and more of her weight was slowly forced forward onto her toes. Thankfully, as if to help her maintain her balance in real-time, much of the mass of her calves (and a little from her thighs) shifted to her rear end, the muscle there bulking up to help support the weight on her new digitigrade legs. She bent her knees—now considerably higher on her leg than she was used to—one at a time, shivering with relief as her bones cracked through the last tremors of reorganization, then popped up. She tentatively put one paw in front of the other, strutting around in a little circle, testing the limits of her new legs and ecstatic to find how nicely she bounced across the floor on them.
Her face, once again, was the site of the finishing touches. Her nose elongated into view of her eyes, and the end became wet and cold in the still air of the office, even in the warmth of Vello’s glow. Her teeth shifted—a feeling she hadn’t experienced since she got her braces off in high school—and the ligaments in her jaw snapped and stretched as it realigned itself, struggling to keep up with the sprouting of her snout. Whiskers shot out from the fur near the end of her nose, each one with an accompanying pinch, like it had been plucked by a tweezer and pulled out to its proper length; her ears migrated along the sides of her head, rounding out as they went and coming to rest at the top of her head. She reached up, feeling the shape of her new features with her equally-new paws, and realized she could no longer feel the mask. It struck her that she must have an all-natural mask now, and she suddenly felt like a child on Christmas morning.
“Vello,” she cried, whirling around to face him again, “we gotta find a mirr—oh.”
“A mirror?” He asked coyly, peeking out from behind a full-length vanity mirror. It was another impressive magical maneuver on his part, but she was distracted: the sight of herself in the mirror was enough to move her nearly to tears. It was really herself! The first time she had looked in the mirror and felt more than apathy, than resignation, than “acceptance of the luck of the draw”. She liked what she saw. She loved it! Her paws covered her snout, overcome with emotion; after a moment collecting herself, she watched it move in the mirror, still unable to believe that what she was seeing was real. Eventually, she stepped around the mirror and threw her arms around Vello—something she now had to reach slightly up to do.
“This is wonderful,” she mustered, trying not to sob into his shining shoulder. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You’ll be happier this way, won’t you, dear?”
“Happier than I knew i could be!”
“That’s all the thanks I need.” She pulled away to look at him; he could tell by her face that she was unsatisfied with the answer. “Maybe look out for other people like yourself?”
“Who want to change their gender, or who want to change their species?”
“Either!” he replied, eagerly. “And both! Just be willing to hear them out, you see. And if they aren’t sure how to say it quite yet, don’t be afraid to give them a nudge in the right direction.”
“Pay it forward,” she mused. “I can do that, for sure. Looking out for the people in this town is my job anyway, right?” She paused for a moment before a realization set in: “Ah, shit. My job. I’m gonna have to answer so many questions…”
“A perfect opportunity to reintroduce yourself then, my dear!”
“Hah. I guess so!”
“Is there anything else I can do for you before I take off, Sally?”
“Vello, I think I’m better than I’ve ever been. Thank you.”
“You’re very, very welcome. See you around!”
“See—” she blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, Vello was gone, mirror and all. “—you.” Huh. That’s that, she supposed. She glanced out the window; the sun was nearly up, which meant that her shift was about to be over, and that the station-house was about to be flooded by her coworkers. She decided it'd be best to get the Hell out of there for now; she could figure out an excuse for everything that had happened after getting some proper rest. She fiddled with her badge—surely, they’d believe it was her as long as she had it, right? The glint of the early light on its polished metal distracted her as she walked out to her truck. It took until the sky started changing color around her to snap her out of her admiration. The sheriff laughed to herself.
Guess some of these changes really do go further than skin-deep, she mused. Figures that I’d go straight from collecting stripey things to collecting shiny things. If she was honest with herself, something felt right about that, too. A lot felt right, now. More right than it ever had.
#writeblr#trans author#transformation#furry writing#trans#tgtf#transgender#raccoon#furry fiction#indie author#commission#short story#technically. like its one chapter but its WAY longer than usual totalcudgel was a good sport about it
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I’m venting so if you don’t like it get the hell over it. And don’t bother sending me hate, bc I’m not gonna post it for your satisfaction. That would be you “attention seeking” so careful. I’m NOT the one. 
Hearing your doctors use the same excuse that “you’re too young” for this and that is honestly the most heartbreaking thing you could hear
Because when there’s something that could help you live a better life that they CAN do but WONT because you’re not “old enough to deal with these problems” it’s like saying
I can’t have a Better life because you won’t help me GET THERE
It’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not FUCKING FAIR
you’re supposed to be the one HELP me have a better life and help me get there but bc I’m too young to have something my grandma would have, so I can’t have it right? I can’t have a PROCEDURE THAT COULD HELP ME HAVE A BETTER LIFE AND MAYBE EVEN A BETTER MENTAL STATE BECAUSE OF MY AGE!??? so if you’re young fuck you, come back when you’re 50 when your problems are 10x worse. Nice.
ITS NOT EVEN ABOUT “our health care system sucks” it’s literally
: “hey doc I have this problem, I did everything you told me to do for months and now I’m back but the problems worse, I looked into this, maybe this could help?”
: “We usually do this for people who are older or senior citizens, your insurance probably won’t approve because of your age”
: “ I’ve done MY CRITERIA of shit IM SUPPOSED to do so that’s it??? Go home and just suffer some more because I’m not old?”
See how fucked that is. I just wonder how the SUICIDE rates are from lack of giving a FUCK in the field is
Would you tell a kid from St Jude’s they’re too young to have cancer? Would you tell my friend Julia who’s had three back surgeries and major health issues that she’s too young given the proof that HEALTH HAS NOTHING ON AGE???
I can’t get better IF YOU WONT HAVE EMPATHY TO HELP.
GO A STEP AHEAD TO HELP YOUR PATIENT. GODDAMN YOURE GETTING PAID SO WHY NOT? GO A STEP AHEAD YOU COULD SAVE SOMEONE. LITERALLY
Goddamn you can’t go a step further in helping me because you’re told not to right?
Fuck your EGO. Fuck your degree, you may have went to school for this shit but that doesn’t mean you KNOW everything. You aren’t me , you don’t see or feel what I feel so don’t INVALIDATE what I go thru just because you studied this shit and I didn’t. Half of people have to self diagnose themselves and FIND THEIR OWN PROBLEMS WHEN ITS YOUR JOB TO!???
So “young” folk out there if you’re dealing with anything chronically be ready to never get better because you’re too young to get better.
Like I’ve told many people before. When they say “it gets better” no actually it doesn’t. Not for people like me. I can’t get better when I GET NO HELP IN ORDER TO HELP ME GET BETTER. THERES NO POINT. So no it will NEVER get better only WORSE. It’ll only get better when I’m dead and fucking gone. It’s the sad fucking truth.
I’ve cried and hyperventilated too much today I juts I just can’t do it anymore it’s too much. There’s no hope for me to thrive. I don’t deserve to have a better or even tolerable life. Clearly. So thanks doc(s) thank you for adding one more person to that list of nothing than better off disposed. Thanks for not allowing me to have something that could help me live a better life.
What a fucking day..
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Breaking Free From Retirement Myths: How Paid Old Age Homes In Delhi Redefine Aging
Senior living communities are viewed in a negative light due to ageing stereotypes and retirement urban legends. After example, if you believe older people are dull and reserved, you're not going to be interested in settling down in a neighbourhood full of them. You're not the only one who imagines a senior living complex as having rocking rockers and peaceful, comfortable surroundings. There are rocking chairs at paid old age homes in Delhi, and some senior citizens choose to unwind in them. However, many people amp up the excitement and the adrenaline in their life. You could decide to establish a club, skydive, tour the globe, become an activist, or become in the greatest shape of your life.
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luxury old age home
Vardaan Healthcare is one luxury old age home in south Delhi to get round the clock attention to seniors. It is a specialized center for senior citizens with long or short term ailments.
#luxury old age home#paid senior citizen living homes#senior citizen homes near me#old age home in south delhi#senior citizen old age home
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Paid senior citizen living home refers to accommodation for people over the age of 55 Golden Estate offers convenient services, senior-friendly design features, and access to social activities. Many facilities also provide medical assistance and holistic healthcare. Joint family structure with the support of helpers who looked after the elderly.
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Retirement Home Living - Debunking Common Myths And Misconceptions
Post Author-Duckworth Leonard
If you remain in your later years and all set to compose the next excellent chapter of life, a retirement community can make it possible. Discover a few of the most typical myths surrounding retirement home living.
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Proceeding treatment retirement home (CCRC) supply numerous various levels of treatment, so if your health and wellness deviates for the worse, you can remain in your community and obtain the treatment you need.
1. You'll Need to Move In
As you investigate your options, inquire about entryway charges. Commonly, relevant site -time cost when you move in. This allows you to budget the cost right into your plan for your future.
Additionally, check out how you'll access care. Some neighborhoods, like Sierra Winds, offer a Life Care contract that implies you'll receive greater degrees of care in-house as your demands transform.
Finally, take into consideration if you 'd be happy living near individuals you intend to hang out with. After all, socializing is an additional benefit of senior living. Say goodbye to mowing, shoveling and other duties that take up your spare time and power at home. Instead, you'll be able to take a walk with neighbors or attend that coffeehouse or art class. You can also take pleasure in a team meal together!
2. You'll Be Alone
Trustworthy retirement communities have roomy apartments with all the benefits you need for a comfortable life. There are also daily support team who can check on you when you're sick (or send you soup and a hot meal if that's what you need), alter a lightbulb or help with jobs-- whatever you need.
And while you might not need a lot of physical aid, having a person to assist with those tasks that have been slowly coming to be harder and even more time consuming can alleviate the pain of a nagging back injury or an aging body. And also, a busy calendar of occasions and activities will maintain you occupied and make it easy to satisfy other people with whom to socialize. You'll locate a new circle of good friends.
3. You'll Need to Pay a Regular Monthly Fee
A retirement home is a special living experience for senior citizens. In addition to providing a variety of services and features, citizens commonly delight in long-lasting understanding possibilities and social activities.
These neighborhoods have various alternatives that are based upon what you require, such as independent living, aided living and memory care. These areas also charge an entrance cost to guarantee that they have the sources to supply top-tier features and-- in some instances-- healthcare solutions.
Those fees are generally tax deductible as a pre paid clinical cost. On the occasion that you need more than a retirement home can supply, many have a generosity stipulation in their contracts to make sure you do not need to move to an additional location. Nonetheless, if you choose to leave, your entrance cost will certainly not be refunded.
4. You'll Have to Care for Your Home
If you're considering retirement home living, it is essential to comprehend what it is and isn't. While retirement communities supply many facilities and services, they are not taking care of homes.
Instead, they offer a secure and welcoming setting for senior citizens to enjoy their lives to the fullest. They eliminate the need to preserve a big home, which can be difficult, and they also eliminate the demand to mow the lawn, rake fallen leaves or shovel snow.
In addition, residents are welcome to host friends and family participants in their personal houses at any time. And if visit site comes when you can no longer drive, the majority of retirement communities use onsite transport to area shops, sights and medical professionals' visits. That indicates you can navigate conveniently without worrying about traffic and that one driver who is constantly in a hurry.
5. You'll Need to Spend for Treatment
In some retirement home, neighbors live very closely together and there is less privacy. Also, they might be a lot more expensive than various other housing alternatives and typically do not offer health care solutions.
Retirement community residents can take pleasure in a selection of daily activities. They can enjoy a cup of coffee in their very own apartment or condo, satisfy buddies for a marine fitness class, and join their publication club after dinner.
A CCRC provides a complete bundle of treatment. This consists of independent living homes or homes, aided living, nursing home treatment, and memory care. Whether you need assistance currently or just cognizant that you might eventually require care in the future, the comfort offered by a CCRC is priceless. It can assist you feel great that your wellness needs are dealt with for the rest of your life.
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