Has this happened to anyone? I got a 4th COVID shot recently as suggested by my doctor, and although I’ve had mild fatigue or soreness after the last couple shots, this one took me out for 3 days. I had COVID once before and it felt like that except worse. Extreme head aches/body aches, could hardly get out of bed, SO MUCH SWEATING!! At one point I was sobbing from how much pain I was in/how uncomfortable it was etc. I seriously almost went to the hospital bc I thought it was something other than just the booster. Has anyone had a reaction like this? Never had such a strong reaction from anything like that.

Day 0!
5/13, total lap, took uterus, cervix, tubes, and did a bladder check. Edit: both ovaries intact.
I checked in about 840, surgery about 1040. One final pregnancy test. The staff was amazing (except the anaesthesiologist was a bit of a dick to one of the nurses, I didn’t like that-I think I might be reporting that… but he was fine to me). Even my gyno who I wasn’t a fan of during our appointments, I could tell surgery is where she was meant to be. I met my OR nurse, anaesthesiologist, and my gyno/surgeon in pre-op where every single person (plus surgical day care nurse) went over everything with me again and again, and ensured I was comfortable with what we were planning to do, and confirmed that barring any issues, my catheter would be removed during surgery, and then a camera check up the urethra and into the bladder. There was a slight hiccup in something in the lab with my pre op blood work where they listed me as a c section (ABSOLUTELY NOT) and something in the test regarding transfusion expired within 3 days and I did my pre op Thursday. I was worried it was going to delay things but since I have been fortunate and never had a transfusion (and the surgeon believed me and didn’t want her day messed up, plus they had the Thursday results) they called the lab, they were there super quick, and it was drawn up then I was wheeled in to the OR. Once in the OR they had me transfer onto the table, got me situated, introduced the surgical team, and my surgeon went over everything one last time while I was still conscious and made sure everyone was on the same page and ready to go. I was given oxygen and told to take a few deep breaths, and then they started pumping meds into my IV and I was out.
From what I hear (my surgeon called my mom/pickup person) it all went like clockwork. I was out in under two hours, into recovery to wake up and when I came to, three nurses (or health care workers, whatever their role, but I think RNs) were chatting about me near my bedside on how I had a lack of requirements before I could be discharged. I don’t think they realised or expected me to be awake so quickly but I said I had been told that as soon as I could walk to the bathroom and pee on my own, I could leave. They looked a little shocked. Not sure if because I was awake or because I knew what I needed to do.
I did say in recovery to my nurse that I felt like I needed to pee, but they wanted me to wait until the hour was up in recovery and I was transferred back to surgical day care.
Once I was in day care I was given juice, digestive cookies and my phone and started texting my mom, who was right outside, and said I was back to where she could come see me. The person at the desk at the front tried not to let her in and said I wasn’t back yet (not sure if there was a lack of communication or no) but mom insisted I was texting her and telling her I was back, and the woman from the desk had to come in and check for herself that I was back… and asked my nurse-who was again nearby-and I heard the front desk woman muttering and said something about “her mom”. I piped up and said don’t try to stop her from coming in, she won’t go away and she would get in either way, I’m texting with her now. The woman didn’t like that much, but my nurse laughed and okay’d her coming in.
Nurse back in day care listened to me pretty quick, did her checks and made she I could sit/stand and disconnected my IV line. She walked me to the bathroom to make sure I was okay. I peed without issue-it was a bit tender coming out but no burning… but man. Maybe bring your own toilet paper. That rough stuff is even rougher when you’re sensitive😳
I felt immediately better cause now I knew they could let me out once my final hour in recovery was complete. Another glass of juice, some more post op checks done, and I was able to get my IV out. (I know most people wouldn’t like IVs but it was a huge hang up for me… my veins suck and it was tender and once they confirmed I could leave I wanted it GONE.
Passed the rest of the time chatting, going over discharge paperwork/instructions, then I was given the official go ahead to change and leave. Slow going, changing, and man the hospital pads are atrocious (and no wings?!). I peed once more, hating the toilet paper but loved the mesh ish shorts they gave me and asked for a couple more, and they gave me two or three more. I was allowed to leave just after 230pm.
I was able to walk out of the hospital on my own two feet. Slowly, but walking and being upright felt much better than sitting. The nurse said it was allowed as long as mom was right there (which she obviously was) in case I got dizzy. We walked out to the front entrance (elevator, no stairs of course), and I stood at a safe spot where I could sit if I needed to, while she went and got the car from the far side of the lot. I probably could have walked it, but it was slow and didn’t want to chance anything.
The ride home was a bit rough-I forgot my pillow and I think that would have helped. Held my hands/palms onto my lower belly for some support. It was manageable, I wasn’t crying out in pain or anything, but definitely internally felt every little bump despite mom trying her best to avoid them.
I’m staying in my own apartment, (parent’s offered me to stay at theirs but I’m far more comfy in my own place, and no stairs) my dad’s sleeping on the couch while my pup is at the house with my mom and their two dogs. So far I’ve been able to manage on my own but it’s nice knowing he’s here incase I need something. When I got home, much to my dad’s chagrin (he wanted to do it for me), I made myself buttered toast, had an ice cream sandwich, some arrowroot cookies, a Tylenol and after eating upright and walking in circles a bit, I went to my bed with my heating pad, pregnancy pillow and about 8462619 other pillows I adjusted as needed. I’m very happy I had a pregnancy pillow. I was debating getting the wedges but decided with the option of Amazon same day/next day delivery, if I changed my mind it wouldn’t be long without it.
Obviously there’s more internal room now, but a heads up-I’ve peed a few times since getting home (it’s near 1am) I have noticed that “hmm I need to pee” turns quickly into “YUP GOTTA GO” when I stand up. I think that little bit extra gravity assist hits when I stand. No burning, still just a bit sensitive, but I bought a peri care bottle with a nozzle on it and is it a game changer. The hospital gave me one but it didn’t have an angled nozzle, which to me is useless unless I want to climb in my shower every time or end up with water all over my floor. First time I used it, I just rinsed with cool water multiple times as it was soothing (not going into the vagina).
There’s been very little blood so far-some spotting but not much.
The pain? Feels like a concentrated day 2 of my usual bad periods, with low back pain (helped greatly with heating pad). Like most of us here… we’re used to heavy pain so it’s not all that unbearable.
I was given tramadol, and didn’t take my first one until 9pm. Didn’t love the feeling. And my limbs started tingling which was weird. That’s supposed to be a withdrawal effect. But my body doesn’t handle drugs well so could just be me. I’ll see what happens later in the night if I need something else, I’ll take it. But so far the pain/discomfort is reminding me not to sleep how i normally do-on my side with my leg up toward my abdomen.
I’ve got my naproxen and Tylenol that the pharmacy okay’d me to take instead of Advil and Tylenol.
Forgot to mention-my throat is a bit sore, but not nearly what I expected. Feels like I just spent some time around a campfire where the smoke randomly followed me. One Halls seemed to help, and of course, ice cream sandwiches 😂.
And now to wait for meeting the real me after 20+ years of being on oral birth control… should be some definite hormonal swings during recovery plus that, but can’t wait😂🤦🏻‍♀️
Edit: one thing I did that I haven’t seen posted otherwise in this subreddit is that I put a cooling cloth, soaked in water, in a ziplock bag, and stuck it laying down flat in my freezer before surgery. I don’t think I really needed to, but I had that laying (with clothing on and a tea towel wrapped around it) on my lower belly and it molded perfectly as it melted a tad, and felt great. I wasn’t told not to ice it, I wasn’t told to ice it, but I figure as long as it feels good, it’s not damaging anything or getting anything wet. Might be something for others to consider! I wouldn’t want the weight of a large ice pack or anything on me right now, but just that in the ziplock with a light pillow overtop was perfect.

TL:dr- my guy got upset at me for having to haul a sectional down 3 flights of stairs, even though I didn’t KNOW it was on the third floor, and I’m simply upset he was angry at me over something I didn’t know and made something I was so excited to get into an unpleasant experience
To preface I adore furniture. Not only did I use to sell furniture, my mother reupholstered furniture and I wanted to be an interior designer. One of my proudest achievements in my life was decorating my first apt in amazingly nice furniture pieces over 3 years while living in poverty. One of the saddest things was having to sell all the furniture. I pintrest furniture. I scroll Facebook marketplace for furniture as a pass-time and daydream. At one point in my life it was the MOST fun hobby ever to go on day long trips to travel to other states to pick up cool furniture I’d found there. So you could say furniture is a deep love of mine.
What’s troubled me is in the last 4 years we had to downsize ALL my furniture because moving into a VERY small living area. The sale of all the furniture went into our saving. His hobby is house plants- a much easier hobby to fit in a home. So about half our living space is dedicated to his hobby. I’ve been pretty miserable unable to decorate for 4 years, and I’ve been pretty open about this. We’ve also been saving for a house so while I don’t begrudge him spending a 100 or so a month on his hobby; there’s no room to justify me spending say 200 on an antique writing desk we can’t fit here.
About 4 months ago I found my dream bedroom suite. When I say it was a dream I mean I’ve been looking for this EXACT furniture set every week for almost 8 years. I found it, for $400 for what’s around 8k worth of furniture- it was a 6hr drive and a headache to pick up. Without help to move it I missed out on the set. I was devastated. It was actually really upsetting because it’s something I knew I’d never find again in my price range. He reassured it me wasn’t a big deal and that I’d find it again. I won’t, I know, because I’ve been looking for that set for a decade. I explained to him that this was a passion and a great love of mine, it makes me feel at home in my space and expressed where I live. Relaxed. I explained how important decorating my home was to me and how glum I’ve been not being able to do it for years now. I asked him if next time we found a piece that worked in our budget if he would REALLY make an effort to help me get it because it was really important to me that he support my hobby the way I support his: I’ve learned about every hobby he has and listen in earnest, memorizing all the little things so I can talk to him about it. He likes to collect mugs- I made him a mug display, he likes to garden-I buy him exotic plants, he likes dinosaurs-I take the day off work to drive 2hrs both ways to pick up some rare dino collectibles. He says he will and I’m ecstatic, and begin talking about all the great adventures we’ll have collecting interesting pieces for our home.
One day he says the couch is old and hurts his back, he mentions it for about a month. I’m exstatic! Because it’s the only piece of furniture we have to sit on in our small home. I’m dedicated to finding us a really really nice one second hand, one he’ll like too, one that has back support, one we can cuddle on. I hunt for a week and he vetos several that he doesn’t like but I find a $2000 couch in good condition for 100. I’m so excited it’s actually in our budget, it’ll fit in our small space, it’s perfect! I feel accomplished, I feel motivated, I feel EXCITED to decorate the house. This is the most excited I’ve been to buy anything in YEARS. I’m giddy. Actual childlike glee!
When we get there to pick up the couch we realize the sellers didn’t happen to mention it was on the third floor. It’s a sectional but lightweight. I specifically picked so we could arrange it in our tiny space to have lots of little spots to read. And I can tell instantly this is going to be a problem. He’s going to get upset. I’m so worried he’ll be upset I try to overly positively handle everything- and get injured several times just trying to get it over quick and simple. And arm of the couch slams me in the throat and my hand gets rammed into a wall blood bruising my thumb. He’s uncharacteristicly unconcerned I’m hurt. All the climbing makes us both sick and shaky, so I suggest we sit and wait to fill better in the Ac before driving home.
When we head back I become very aware he’s not talking to me. He’s angry. I already know it. I try to apologize, to make things better, to explain I didn’t know that it was on the third floor and wouldn’t have got it if I had. That it was just a great deal and worked great for what we needed and it was in our budget (it’s almost impossible to find anything in our budget) and that we wouldn’t have been able to get anything near as nice so cheaply, that I’m sorry I know it was more than what he signed up to help me with and if I had known I would have paid family to help move it or thought of something else. I know his annoyance is justified. he explains it to me and to his merit he does it calmly, but he’s still upset at me- not just for the stairs, but for the drive, and for getting a sectional to begin with when “all we needed” was a cheap small love seat, he doesn’t GET IT and he’s pissed
He tried to be nice about it but he’s miserable and mad at me and doesn’t at all get why I was excited over it. By the end I feel a bit choked up, and teary eyed. I’m not a crier but I suppose he must have seen me tearing up because he clarifies he wants to support my hobby but doesn’t get it.
Yes things went arry but I thought it was almost a funny mishap, it wasn’t too bad getting the piece, we saved thousands of dollars, it’s the only NICE piece in our house and I was so excited to impress him with it. That he was angry, that he wasn’t even worried I was hurt- just ripped through me. Getting that piece of furniture, the first piece of furniture we bought together for our first home together meant a lot to me. To try to show him I wanted us to have something nice together I moved our old ripped up couch out by myself, scrubbed cleaned and arranged the new furniture by myself and moved every piece of it I could by myself. I also cleaned and arrange the living so that he could comfortably sit and enjoy the new seating in a well organized clean space. I stayed up for hours doing it alone till my body ached. But he’s still upset with me and I’ve lost all the “happiness” I had to decorate with him, I just feel embarrassed and sad. I don’t think I’ll be able to ask him to go with me again to get a piece, I don’t think he’d want to. It all just got so bungled. I just feel…. Like it was a missed opportunity to laugh and make a good memory, now it’s a bad memory I think will stick around.
I had hoped we’d travel together getting new pieces and making new memories. Now I just know we never will.

So since January I started experiencing awful visual issues, I had an MRI, CT & blood work & all came back clear, since then I started developing twitching after taking amitriptyline and I just assumed it was a withdrawal or simply BFS. In 2/3 months I have had muscle atrophy in my back, thighs, calves and I’m certain my tongue has became weaker and so has my neck - I have no swallowing issues but my swallowing feels odd and my speech perceived by myself feels slow and not right at all.
I have seen countless neurologists in this time and they have all sent me back with a clean bill of health even though I have had 1 EMG which showed ‘chronic neuropathic changes mainly distantly’ and therefore a Neuromusculur neurologist diagnosed me with bfs & anxiety.
I know for a fact I have probably one of the worst progressive types of ALS you could get especially at such a young age - the atrophy was noticed by an NHS doctor who has sent me for another EMG in 3 months? But I have a private EMG on the 16th of this month. I’m absolutely terrified I have no understanding to how this could of happened, if all started after I took some mirtazapine to help with insomnia and I believe this has triggered something although there is 0 literature of this ever occurring and that’s why I can’t believe this happening to me.
I’m here to see reassurance even though I’m certain I’m dying and loosing everything so rapidly - I believe I have JALS or bulbar onset due to the changes in my face & throat etc… the one thing I can’t understand is how multiple parts of my body seem to be loosing muscle at the same time, I have read that ALS starts in one and moves up to the next etc but for me it seems like it’s everywhere.
I don’t know to be honest I don’t really know I didn’t want to post this at all but I just maybe might find someone on here that is experiencing disgusting symptoms, had a bag EMG and still came out the other side. I don’t believe I will, my family & girlfriend currently think I’m completely fine due to the reassurance from all the doctors and even the Neurologist who read the EMG still diagnosed me with BFS?
The EMG was on 2nd of April and at that point I knew my legs were smaller but it wasn’t extremely extremely noticeable - the EMG had no active neuropathic changes as PSW and FIBS were normal, it was just + AMP, + DUR and - INT PAT with seen fasiculations.
Overall I’m lost and i know it’s known that vision isn’t affected by ALS but I read reports and I legit match the symptoms such as reduced eye tracking, impaired VOR. I just feel like the most unlucky person on this planet like how can I have all these visual symptoms and horrible physical symptoms at such a young age just after taking some anti depressants to helps with insomnia.
I really need some support guys and I want to truly believe I’ll be okay but as of right now nothing can sway my mind and I’m dreading the 16th for what it will show, I’m going to honestly just walk in and say ‘I believe I have bulbar onset als just please start on my face and work your way down’
I just can’t believe that I’m completely fine when everything in my body is changing and has changed so quickly. I can still ride my bike, I can still run, walk fine and do any activity I want. (Other than football probably because of my vision) but I can’t do them well. I used to be able to run 5k without any aches in my body but now my feet hurt and so do my legs and I’m just a complete mess.
Much love and I hope people on this forum can comfort me with reassurance :(

This weekend, Ajax Budokan invited Kodokan 9th dan and former head of the Tokyo Police dojo, Michio Fukushima Sensei, to conduct a 4 hour clinic for Kodokan Goshin Jutsu. It was open to yellow belt and higher, though the majority consisted of Yudansha. My senseis had the honour of demoing the kata, as Fukushima Sensei's health did not permit presenting each technique multiple times, though he did show some of the finer details, demo mechanics, and gave comments as to what was good and displayed what could be fixed. He also talked about older versions of the techniques and how/ why they have been changed. Regretfully, it totally slipped my mind to film during the seminar, as there was a lot of good information, translated (and left untranslated) by the interpreter.
Some General Notes on Fukushima Sensei Fukushima Sensei on multiple occasions mentioned how one should carry themselves and move, more specifically he talked about how he usually sees toris get away with bad shisei as uke's attacks are generally to kind or passive, and that if they genuinely attacked, most toris would be off balance. Additionally he mentioned that a lot of IFJ competition now is power judo, where the technical aspects are replaced for brute force and speed.
The main note he makes is to keep the knees alive (slightly bent and bouncy like a spring), and that most novices have a tendency to straight leg their kata. He also made it a great point to explain the logic of the waza in the kata and how the kuzushi is created. Other important details he talked about were that uke shouldn't be a limp noodle once his attack is over, that tori should keep good sabaki (unclear if sabaki was short hand for tai sabaki as he also stated tai sabaki on different occasions (the details were paraphrased by the translator)), and the usage of rotation from the hips to maintain proper balance (tai sabaki). Additionally, he talked about things relating to karada (the body) and some anecdotes (such as stories about judoka such as Michigami, Isao Okano, and Nagaoka if I was hearing correctly, though I don't speak Japanese, only somewhat familiar with it), which were left untranslated or paraphrased sadly.
Emphasised details in the kata (not explanations or descriptions of how to do a technique) and my experiences (FYI Sensei mostly used the Tomiki names for the waza Tori applied)
Attacks when held

1. Ryote dori - my partner and I (both new to this kata for the most part) went in on this one and struggled as we didn't see the detail of thumb in hand for the lock (blind leading the blind, though we later worked near a kind pair after this who helped check more closely as they were experienced in the kata)
   1. Yahazu (hook shape for hand) is very important to direct uke's arm
   2. You aren't pulling the arm away to free it, you are pushing your elbow forward which pressures uke's arm
   3. Te gatana to the uto (point between uke's eyes)
   4. When applying the lock (te gatame), make sure to rotate uke's hand such that the fingers are pointing up
   5. When applying the lock, take the uke's arm in the direction perpendicular to the line made by his feet
2. Hidari eri dori - I particularly liked this one, though my uke was confused the first few times as he kept trying to apply waki gatame.
   1. Tori must grab underneath uke's hand on the lapel when stepping back
   2. When grabbing uke's hand to break the grip and apply the lock (kote hineri), tori should have his thumb in between uke's thumb and fingers, and to take the uke's arm in the direction perpendicular to the line made by his feet
   3. Uke should try to maintain jigo tai rather than lean so the lock is applied cleanly
   4. Tori's hand should not be limp when delivering the strike
3. Migi eri dori - I couldn't get kote gaeshi to work properly, will have to practice and ask my sensei about it later, same with my partner
   1. Tori should maintain a upright posture as uke pulls him forward, and use the landing of his foot to drive his hand for the uppercut to uke
   2. Tori should try to keep uke's hand attached to his centerline as he makes tai sabaki
4. Kata ude dori - My uke was very stiff, so applying the initial lock to him proved difficult, though he claims he felt it. I found this kata easy to remember as the legs go left right left right (step, step, tai sabaki, kick, then lead with the right for the lock)
   1. You are kicking with the side of the foot
   2. The step before the kick pivot around so your feet are almost parallel
   3. For waki gatame, you should be standing inside his feet, near parallel to the line perpendicular to his feet
5. Ushiro eri dori - I had experience with this one as sensei had taught during some free time a while back
   1. The parry with the arm was stated to also be the preferred way to receive punches, though take that as you will (though it is a common method in karate as well)
   2. The strike should be to the suigetsu (solar plexus)
   3. Trap uke's hand with your head so that it can't wiggle all over the place when applying the lock
6. Ushiro jime - My partner and I both had a tendency to lift the shoulder off after spinning out, will have to work on that. I will be honest, had I known this escape, I probably would have come out of an incident a few years back (before I started Judo) rather unscathed as I was jumped and then kicked on the ground by a person who was quite a pain.
   1. The attack and initial defence are identical to that of katame no kata, following which tori rotates out
   2. Keep pressure with your shoulder until your grip has been changed
7. Kakae dori - We didn't have enough mat space to finish the throw without running into other groups, but the technique is surprisingly effective. Though I couldn't initially find out how to do the armlock and had to ask my sensei about it, now it's pretty easy.
   1. Rotate the arm away from you (clockwise from your perspective) and pull uke's arm into you
   2. During the initial stomp, straighten up and raise your arms to loosen uke's grip

Attacks when at a distance - I got less time to try these in general as I wanted my partner to get a feel for them as they are a bit more complicated and he is less experienced

1. Naname uchi - this was a fun situation, it shows how a little bit of atemi can be used to setup a randori waza, and Fukushima Sensei complimented my senseis' performance saying that it was better than the current text book
   1. Te gatana is used to redirect the strike
   2. Osoto otoshi is performed
   3. Pushing the arm through is important to create the kuzushi necessary for the waza
2. Ago tsuki - I didn't actually get a chance to try this one more than once as my partner struggled with it, he kept applying a shoulder lock by pushing on the elbow without the redirect with the thumb up (shoulder is still sore)
   1. when directing uke's attack up and away, do not lean back as then you are unstable
   2. Use yahazu to direct uke's elbow toward his ear
   3. As uke will not like this use the moment after releasing the elbow lock to throw him forward in the direction perpendicular to his feet.
3. Gammen Tsuki - My partner really liked this one, I can see the uses as I've used similar entries when messing around with strikes + judo with this partner as I have a bit of karate experience
   1. Uke is meant to do a break fall, thus tori needs to get out of the way after releasing the choke
   2. Uke should realistically be aiming for where tori's uto would be if he did not evade
4. Mae Geri - this was a relatively easy one to grasp, but quite a bit of practice is needed before a full force kick can be considered
   1. Rotate ukes foot outwards so that it is not easy for him to rotate in to escape
   2. In the original, tori would lift uke's leg high but many ukes ended up injured from hitting their heads, so now tori just pushes back
5. Yoko geri - My sensei has introduced this one at the dojo before as well, though he prefaced it with about a minute of just practicing a side kick. My partner (who suffers from light knee pain) couldn't kneel during the finish
   1. The use of the te gatana to redirect the kick in the direction it is going, very similar to karates low block
   2. During the finish tori creates a void for uke to be thrown but in real life tori would throw uke onto his knee

Attacks with weapons - I understand people dislike these (reasonably in some cases), but I've found them to be useful points to explore
Attacks with a knife - Sensei Fukushima mentioned how despite my senseis making it look easy
Both my partner and I have practiced these quite a lot (I was the only one who was taught it by sensei but we practiced it on our own time), so not as many personal notes. Though I don't have a good experience so my brain switches to serious and my heart rate increases despite the fact that I know these are fake weapons.

1. Tsukkake
   1. The elbow should be pushed forward (I've actually experimented with this in the past by asking uke to try to stab me as I applied the defence, and we've found after the initial push and strike, tori is in a relatively good position, be it to run away or finish the kata)
   2. Push the locked up arm up and towards uke, then guide him to the ground
2. Choku zuki - I struggled to apply the waki gatame, I'm guessing it was control of the wrist that was the problem, this form is relatively straight forward and makes sense
   1. The strike should not be a boxer style punch, but more like the first punch in szkt
   2. uke should not go limp
   3. when moving away from uke, take him perpendicular to the line between his feet
3. Naname Zuki - Personally I think this form is cutting it close in many regards, but the control tori has is quite surprising
   1. Don't grab the blade from the sharp edge

Attacks with a jo - PSA, no matter how much you trust your uke, mistakes happen (especially with such a solid weapon) so remain vigilant to mitigate damage

1. Furi age - this was a relatively easy technique to grasp as it is an application of O soto gari setup with a palm strike to the chind
   1. Tori should enter as soon as uke begins to raise his arm, almost a preemptive entry
   2. Tori strikes at the ago (chin) with a palm strike, then places his hand on the throat for the throw
2. Furi oroshi - My partner leant into the swing and wacked me on the forehead, it could've been worse but it just grazed the outer layer as I saw the jo come closer after my initial retreat and attempted to turn out of the way. Both a PSA for tori and uke. Tori do not keep your eyes off uke, and uke please don't lean into a swing, you are horribly off balance, and you make it harder for tori to read. Also uke don't speed up when you 2 are learning (I don't know why my partner chose too...)
   1. Do not hop back onto one leg and then towards uke with the other, it leads you to have bad posture
   2. Better to make a big retreat than get hit
   3. 2 strike, one ura ken (back fist), followed by knife hand push
   4. Uke's swing should be at a diagonal
3. Morote zuki - I didn't get to practice this one as my partner was taken a bit aback after the previous incident and couldn't get the steps right for this one. Fukushima Sensei mentioned something along the lines of how a judoka was faced with a juken and couldn't figure out what to do, and thus this form was created to address that.
   1. Tori shouldn't be rowing the jow away to shake throw uke
   2. The arm puts pressure on uke's arm forward
   3. Tori should be trying to angle the jo down towards himself after the initial grab

Attacks with a gun - I struggled with all of these, but I think the principles are relatively sound. Though in real life, I'd most likely give up my valuables. Fukushima Sensei emphasised hip rotation in these movements, as he says that you want to direct the gun away without moving your feet, which is what uke would be seeing when looking at your pocket.
Always make sure to begin your defence after uke is clearly focused on checking your pockets, never when his focus is directly on you

1. Shomen Zuke
   1. Grab the barrel of the gun thumb up
   2. During the disarm, push the gun's muzzle to face towards him
2. Koshi Gamae - I kept getting the second hand wrong and thus the barallel was pointed towards me in the final attack, will need to work on that
   1. Grab the barrel of gun initially with the thumb down with your right hand, and push the gun so that it is horizontal after turning left, then grab the gun from below with your right
   2. make sure to not point the gun at yourself when hitting with the butt
3. Haimen Zuke - this is quite a dangerous move in theory, but also one of the more likely ones
   1. Wrap uke's arm with your arm, but make sure to direct the muzzle up with the free arm
   2. [uke] should let go of gun, as this is a hard breakfall

Overarching and repeated themes in the kata

• The use of yahazu to direct the arm rather than grips
• Keeping uke's hand connected to your centerline when applying kansetsu waza
• te gatana is a useful tool to redirect and or strike the opponent quickly
• During the gun portion, always rotate the gun off your centerline, so that even if it does fire, it doesn't penetrate too deep
• Control the gun by the muzzle
• most finishes are done by guiding uke perpendicular to the line in between his feet
• Do not directly oppose an opponents force
• Maintanence of balance at all times and moving from the hips is key
• Uke should attack meaningfully
• Action reaction is used quite a lot to first lock uke up towards his face, so that when he pushes back he is easily lead away

Overall, it was quite a good event, and I learned a lot. This kata isn't the most realistic with the attacks (though apparently a few people I know have used the ryote dori attack shockingly), but what I've learned so far is relatively sound, hopefully some time soon I can convince my partner to do some live resistance sparring with some gear on (which I have done with the knife portion with a plastic knife). Fukushima Sensei had a lot to say, as he was actively discussing his experiences and koshiki no kata after the seminar with another Japanese speaker, and I hope to be able to attend another one of his classes again someday.
Here are some videos featuring Michio Fukushima from a few years back, both where he was actively demoing, and where he had a slightly more corrective position.
https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=1253474818155243
https://youtu.be/VKgdMJS9eck?si=bGMemLfG9aquAHr1

This has been going on for months, maybe a year. I cannot lay on the right side and it's hard for me to sit down properly because of the pain in my groin. My whole body begins vibrating/ throbbing and I get a tinnitus in my right ear. It feels like the whole right side of my body is tense/ bruised, especially in the groin and hip area, lower back and flank, going up the neck and to the temple, inner corner of eye/ nose. My right shoulder is also a lot more sore than the left. It feels like someone punched me in the hip. My right knee is also extremely painful sometimes and under I'm always sore under my right foot.
I have a doctors appointment tomorrow and was hoping that someone has had this happen to them and knows what it is or how to make it better 😥

I’m begging, as I can already see it happening in other threads I’ve tried to post this too; to not do what my doctor is doing to me and just say “sounds like you have the sad or the worried” I’ve been suffering for years and this isn’t funny, I’ve been on antidepressants and anti anxiety medication, along with sleep medication because I go days at a time unable to rest, I have a range of symptoms ranging from severe abdominal pain, pain in my bladder while urinating, vomiting, dizziness and fainting, my fingers are physically cold to the touch to the extent they hurt they change color often. Aches and pains all throughout my body, severe lethargy, unable to breathe through my nose due to swelling that is nearly omnipresent.
I’ve had screenings for almost everything, kidneys, thyroid, liver, stool samples, urine, etc, at this point my doctor has chalked it up to being part of my mental health.
However, my mother and I are celebrating Mother’s Day late, I’m not a drinker, but I bought her some wine she loves.
After sitting down and having a single drink, no more than 6oz, almost all my symptoms are completely gone… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and have no plan to drink as treatment, but I was hoping someone would have an idea so I can get through this without suffering every day.
As additional context I drink incredibly rarely, I’ve been suffering with these more severe symptoms for 2 years now, but I’ve had issues with nausea, fainting, headaches and body pain since I was a child. this is my first drink during those two years time while symptoms have advanced.
At 6ft and 160 lbs and no prior drinking, I imagine my tolerance is fairly low but I don’t feel any of the buzzy or intoxicated feelings… in fact I feel the most mentally clear I have in months, my mother even noting after I caught multiple things falling that my reaction time was better, she told me I even looked like my balance was better.
Both her and I have been sitting here completely in awe at the concept that a glass of wine has made me fully functional with no impairment.

Hello, reddit doctors, I need your advice on what I should do
Background: 41 years old, physically fit male, first got sick late april (27-28th with severe flu like symptoms. Around May 4, I went to urgent care, got covid flu test done (all negative), had conjunctivitis in eyes (got antibiotic cream) and also did throat swab. Doctor at urgent care wouldnt give me oral antibiotics until throat culture came back. Next few days i was running low grade fever and I wanted antibiotics so I called telehealth and convinced a doctor to give me amoxicillin (500mg x 3 x 10 days). The throat culture ended up negative but i continued on the amoxicillin anyways as my symptoms drastically improved.
So i screwed up. On friday May 10th i was feeling much better so I decided to go out and have a few drinks. Later that night, the Aurora borealis was out, and i made a poor life decision. So I have adhd and for years I was taking adderall and dexedrine. I completely quit these drugs 2.5 years ago, but still had some left. So on friday night, I took some dexedrine, and having no tolerance anymore, I ended up on a weekend bender not sleeping, being high, not eating well, and just not taking care of myself. I kept using until sunday afternoon
Sunday night I started coughing a bit again. Fast forward to today (monday), i managed to sleep 6.5 hours, but I feel shitty and I keep bringing up bright yellow phlegm or sputum, my throat is kinda sore (probably from dry mouth), and now Im worried i might have ruined my amoxicillin treatment. Im obviously in withdrawal from my adhd meds and im tired, but I also i have a weird tingly metallic taste in my mouth.
I have two days left of amoxicillin, and im worried my infection will come back with a vengeance and be resistant to antibiotics once it is done. What should I do? Stop worrying, or should i get more antibiotics?
Sorry this ran a bit long.

Hi everyone!
I am 25F, Caucasian, 127 lbs, 5’2”, non-smoking. I am currently on levothyroxine for suspected subclinical hypothyroidism. Previous blood tests did reveal that I have high lipoprotein a.
I recently contracted a bug and started having symptoms on May 9, 2024. It consisted of a fever for the first few days, extreme fatigue, sore throat and cough. Jump to today, May 13, 2024, I still have the fatigue, and wet cough. I had to return to work today, and I actually felt ok this morning, so I wore a mask and I was good for about 2 hours, then I began to have what my doctor has described in the past as a Vasovagal reaction (without losing consciousness, as I know it’s coming and can sit down ASAP). The past reaction was completely unrelated and random. I had 3 “reactions” in the span of 5-10 minutes today, and ultimately left work. I have never had this when healing from sickness prior. I have been taking cold meds and muscle and joint pills to help aid my symptoms since the 9th.
I am likely going to take tomorrow off as well, however, I’m not sure what to do so this does not happen again. My job requires you to be on your feet. My doctor is hard to get into on such short notice! Any help is appreciated!

It is a man, old and scraggy. He wears a jacket that lays over the red plaid button shirt and blue jeans. He wears an old baseball cap and a pair of glasses. He yelled something to Dad, holding his hands up like he was pleading, although we couldn’t hear it over the truck engine. They talked, but we couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Hey, what are they saying”, I asked, while petting Matt’s hair, calming him. The old man then put his hands down and came close to Dad in a cautious way. They seem to start having some kind of conversation.
“I don’t really know, hopefully, something good”, Mom answered. They talked for a little while, with daylight beginning to disappear, giving us a sense of dread, and making me more worried about what weird creature was going to show up. Eventually, the old man turned and pointed toward what I think is the northeast. They then shook hands and walked back to their respective vehicles. “What’s going on”, Mom asked as Dad got into the truck.
“Well, our new friend here invited us to dinner at his farm”, Dad replied.
“Does he have supplies?”
“Well, he says has supplies for us to make the journey.”
“Should we even trust him? We just met h-”
“Relax, he’s just an old man, living alone at his farm, feeding his cows. What could go wrong”, Dad countered. The old man then entered the truck that was running and drove slowly, expecting us to follow him.
“Alrighty then, but we have to be cautious”, Mom said, with her suspicions of the old man. We then followed the old truck along the dark, frozen road. It just feels like something is going to show up along the road, but nothing happened. Matt did eventually stop crying, but he is still upset about the Joe escape thing.
“Where are we going”, Matt lamented, with the prior series of events in mind.
“I guess somebody is offering us dinner”, I answered.
“Why can’t we just go home?”
“It’s only going to be a stop, like a hotel. After that, we go to our new home, I guess”, I said, taking another look at Matt and cradling to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay.” I stared out into the darkness. I looked to the sky from the window and I faintly saw something in the clear, dark sky, lit up by the waning moon. They were brilliant, green auroras that defy the bright moon, dancing across the sky like ribbons in the wind. The truck eventually took a right-hand turn into another road, with us following suit. I can see a bright, orange light emerging from a patch of tree. When we passed by, it seemed it was a house, at a farm, burning in a massive flame.
“I guess those people aren’t so, uh, lucky”, Dad said, taking a quick look at it before looking at the road. Passing by, we went on and continued to follow the old man’s truck. We passed onto another intersection until he turned into a driveway to what I believe to be his farm. Going into the driveway, I can see an old house, along with a dilapidated farm further away, barely visible by the headlights. The old man parked by the house, where there were a few other trucks there. We parked alongside the truck and we got out into the cold, near-silent night.
“Welcome to sanctuary, where all are welcome”, the old man bellowed. This is the first time I’ve heard his voice. Matt was the last to get out of the truck, slowly and clumsily climbing out of the truck.
“What’s your name”, my Mom politely asked the old man.
“Oh, I guess your husband didn’t tell ya. My name is Steven, but you can call me Steve”, the old man said, with some crackling in his voice. “I am very proud to host a dinner for you and your family”, he continued. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Oh, my name is Janice”, Mom replied, quite pleased at his politeness.
“Hello, Janice, and what are their names”, Steven asked, pointing to me and Matt.
“That’s my daughter Kate and my son Matt”, Dad said to Mom.
“Oh, what wonderful names for a couple of beautiful children you have”, Steve grinned. “Come, it is dangerous out here.” We followed him to the house, which looked like it had seen better days. He entered through the double-set door, the first a solid door and a screen door behind. Entering the house, it smelled like what you’d expect, old man. Looking onto the floor is made of glossy wood and walls with cracks, likely caused by the earthquake. It is dark in there, lit by candlelight from many candles, yet it’s fairly warm here. I don’t know why we went into the house, but Dad was right, Steve is just a lonely, old man. Matter of fact, there seems to be nothing wrong here, other than the cracks in the walls. “Sorry, the power went out. Had to resort to the candles. I knew my wife would come in handy”, Steve explained as he took his coat off. “Oh, supper will be ready right away. Had to use the fireplace to cook. Also, can you take your boots off?” We took our boots and set them aside. We went into what seemed to be a living room, with dusty old-style furniture.
“So, where do we sit”, Mom asked.
“Oh, well, follow me”, Steve commanded, leading us to the dining room, with a long, wooden table and six wooden chairs, along with their corresponding old-fashioned plates, glasses and cutlery, lit up in the candlelight. We noticed that everything on the table was covered in a thin veil of dust. “My apologies, the recent shocks dropped a bit of dust on the table”, he explained as he noticed us looking at the plates and moved into another room nearby. “Take your seats if you like.” We all settled onto the chairs, and blew off our plates of the dust settled there.
“When will we eat”, Matt impatiently said.
“Once Steve comes out with the food”, Mom answered. Matt sat there with a tired look on his face. Dad seemed to be in a better mood than before and it looked like he wanted to start a conversation.
“Hey, should we talk about something”, Dad asked. I then see Steve with a bowl and a silver plate.
“Here we go, may not be much, but at least it’ll fulfil the soul”, Steve said, smiling when he served us mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “So, shall we pray?” That came unexpectedly, as we are not too religious, but we were in his house and gave us shelter and food.
“Sure, we can do that”, Mom said and we all bowed our heads and put our hands together. Steve cleared his throat
“Thank you, Lord, for this good food to feed the soul in these hard times. I shall pray, in the name of the Lord and Jesus Christ, that these hard times shall be over, so we can get on with our lives. Amen.” We raised our heads and grabbed whatever food there was onto our plates. “Oh, there’s no gravy, so we have to deal with bare potaters and meatloaf.”
“Oh, not to worry. Thank you for the food”, Dad thanked Steve. We began to eat the food once we got it sorted.
“So, what brings you here”, Steve asked.
“Well, there is an evacuation order in effect for this area, so we had to go to Regina”, Dad explained, with Steve taking in every word. “So, we came from Strasbourg, we tried going south towards Regina, but we hit an obstacle in the way and we had to take another route, leading us here.”
“And we encountered a few odd things along the way”, Mom added.
“Huh, interesting. What do you guys think is going on”, Steve inquired.
“By the things we saw, we have no idea. Dinosaurs, devil dogs, hell pigs, the whole deal. I shouldn’t forget the earthquake. They told us a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake”, Dad clarified to Steve.
“Hmm… is that so”, Steve wondered. “Wonder what I think is happening? The Rapture is happening. Do you know how the Bible tells us of the end times? Good people sent to be with God and his kingdom, the rest here to suffer the Hell unleashed by Satan.” By this point, he was beginning to rant, but we couldn't stop it as we all began to feel tired and powerless. “So, the Devil will send his demons in the form of these illusions so that they can torment the sinners. It is happening, it is-” Steve manically continued as I drew towards blackness and his voice becoming less coherent. My vision is now all black.
I saw those same lights, but more rapidly than before. I then emerged onto the same clear sky, but something felt different. I can smell something in the air. I can smell what seems to be chemicals in the air. Looking down, I was terrified. Dark, grey rock in the shape of ropes and folds, similar to those I saw of lava flows on a volcano in pictures. This went on as far as the eye could see. I can see no tree this time, just the cooled lava everywhere. I then walked, feeling every bump and crag. I thought I walked forever until I heard a rumbling sound and woke up.
I am in total darkness. It is cold and it smells like cow manure. I tried to move my hand, but it seemed to be bonded behind my back by a rope. I tried to move my feet, but they were also bound by rope to the legs I tried to speak, only to realise my mouth was agape by a cloth in my mouth. I heard shuffling nearby but I could not see. It was then shone in light when Steve entered the door, holding a candle, revealing all of us in the same situation. I then can see what we are in. We are in that same wooden dilapidated barn we saw earlier and seems to be more damaged than the house, wood creaking can be heard.
“These sedatives are more effective than I thought. Maybe I should use them more often”, Steve smoothly explained, like he’s some kind of agent and began pacing. “Wonder why you are here? Well, I wondered the same thing to myself, why didn’t God take me to his heaven? When I first heard of the government telling us of those evacuation plans, I thought it was that, a leaking pipe. I began to notice things I couldn’t believe myself, at least at first. Earthquakes, weird creatures showing up, people disappearing, the whole spiel. I connected the dots. The Rapture is happening, for sure, but why me? Why was I the one left here on this Earth”, Steve calmly ranted, pacing around the barn, but it seemed to sound crazier and angrier the more he paced. “I thought I had lost my way. I’ve been unfaithful to God and his son. But, I realised that God always has a plan and he left me on this Earth to serve a purpose. I wondered what my purpose was until I had a moment.” He then stopped in place and calmed down. He turned to look at Mom with accusing yet crazed eyes.
“I’m supposed to keep the sinners here in line, to earn a place in God’s kingdom, or suffer in Hell. I know you are a sweet woman, Janice, but your treachery with Satan is over and I am going to do what’s right.” Mom then looked at all of us, with assuring eyes like that of an innocent yet caring mother we all know knew. I began crying and trying to speak through the cloth, but I was helpless to watch by. “Forgive me, Father, for what I am going to do.” He then pulled a knife from his pocket and plunged it into Mom’s neck with no mercy. I looked away once he did that, trembling, with tears pouring out and my vision glazed and I fell limp. I could see my brother tearing up, but he did not look away. I can hear Dad behind me, with his screams of agony and anger covered by the cloth. It felt like I was in slow motion, taking in every moment.
I then heard the chair, screeching as Steve dragged the chair containing Mom’s lifeless body towards the door, leaving behind a trail of blood. I couldn’t bear to see my mother like this. I shut my eyes very hard and hoped it would go away. The door then shut, leaving us alone with a candle, fearing what would come next. I stared at the candle, seeing it dance in the flames like a woman dancing in the darkness. Is this how it’ll end, I thought. End up dying to this sick man? My Mom was killed in front of me. I sobbed with that thought, then I began to think about the inevitable death of me. I hope there’s something after I die. Maybe I’ll see Mom again.
It was silent for a while, nearly no sound other than our moans. Dad seems to be fidgeting at the back of his chair, rocking it slowly. Looking past him, I shuddered at the glistening pool of blood, where Mom was last alive, could be my fate. I then see Dad release his arms from the back of the chair and remove the cloth from his mouth. He silently stood up and bent down to untie his legs from the chair legs. He then went to me and removed my cloth.
“H-h-how did you do that”, I silently wept, fearing that Steve would show up at the door and kill us all.
“My binding is loose. The old man probably took a liking to me”, Dad whispered. “I should remove your binds.” He untied them, releasing me, doing the same for Matt. “Now, we need to be quiet.” We then walked, quietly, along the painfully creaking wood in the near dark, following the blood trail, glistening in the candlelight. We cringed and dreaded each sound we made and watched the door in case it began to creak open. A few silent steps later, we made it to the door and we slowly opened it so as not to make any noise. What was revealed to us is nothing new, other than the blood trail continuing in the snow directing towards the back of the barn. “Okay, Kate, Matt, you guys run to the truck.”
“What about you”, I sobbed.
“Don’t worry about me”, Dad responded, giving me his keys and forcing them into my hand. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, leave. Don’t look back, take care of your brother, okay? I love you, no matter what happens.” He then kissed me on the head and ran to follow the blood trail. We quickly walked towards the black truck, stranded there for maybe hours. Getting closer, freedom is getting closer. When we got to a fair distance to the truck, I heard footsteps behind me and, the next thing I knew, I was knocked over to the ground into the hard snow on my face. A hand turned me over to give me a glimpse of a crazed Steve, his eyes wilder than before.
“Oh, yes, trying to escape”, he bragged. I looked at him, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights and he caressed my face with his bloodied blade. “You do have a pretty face, but I’m afraid you are just one of Satan's creations, made to pull me to lust.” He then raised his knife in the air when a familiar side emerged, out of the blue.
Joe came and bit him in the arm that was holding the knife. Steve screamed in agony the moment he realised what happened. He shook Joe off and stood up to stand his ground. I stood up as Joe hissed and walked around the crazed being he wounded, not in fear but in aggressiveness. “Is this one of your pets, demon”, Steve screamed as Joe came in for another attack, but Steve countered that with a slash to the snout. Joe then ran away, whining, into the darkness. This sequence of events gave me the chance to enter the truck on the driver’s side. I had some trouble starting it, besides this is my first time driving a truck.
Steve menacelily walked towards the when Dad came barreling and tackled him to the ground. Dad was on top when he went limp. I finally put the keys in the engine turned it on and backed out, with memory serving me the instructions on such a vehicle. Steve pushed Dad’s body and stood up, but by that time, we left the farm.
“Turn back, we have to get Dad”, Matt cried, but I was very emotional, accepting what happened. I felt that, without my parents, I feel… useless.
“Dad’s dead”, I screamed at Matt and he began gagging uncontrollably in tears. I began to feel sorry for him. “Sorry, I, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay”, Matt sniffled. “I guess Mom and Dad are dead anyways.” It was silence for a few more minutes, tears welling in our eyes.
“Hey, our parents are in a better place”, I said, trying to make the situation positive.
“But we are stuck here, without them? Don’t we deserve to go to a better place?”
“Don’t say that”, I huffed and I paused for a bit. “I know we are in the, uh, right place now. Let me tell you something, once we get to Regina, I will take care of you, no matter what life throws at us.”
“What about Joe”, Matt asked.
“He’ll be fine. He probably found his girlfriend already.”
“Hey, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I, uh, I don’t have one. That I know of”, I spoke, bringing me back to Sam, remembering that she’s the only friend that I ever knew, and I left her. Without her, I felt alone, no one would ever relate. I began to tear up. “I don’t have any friends. I am alone,” I sobbed.
“What do you mean? I’m your brother!” I looked at Matt, and smiled, happy that he acknowledged that we were in this together.
“Thank you”, I thanked him. I slowly stopped on the road, just to hug Matt hard, crying my eyes out. We then heard what sounded like an elephant in front of us. We looked up to see a walking snow-covered brown fur wall with four pillar-like legs in front of us. Its curved tusks gleaned in the light and the eyes reflected in the light. The furry trunk waved around like a searching snake from a tree. We both knew what it was.
“Hey, look at that, a woolly mammoth”, Matt said, excitement running through him. At this point, we weren’t surprised.
“Yep, that is a woolly mammoth”, I added. The mammoth turned to us on the road, seemingly confused about where it was. It looked at our truck and seemed to growl, like an elephant. We are starting to realise this thing is becoming aggressive.
“Uh, should we move”, Matt asked. I remembered hearing something about standing your ground in case of an encounter with an elephant. I hoped it would work for a bigger, furrier version of one.
“No, we have to stand our ground.”
“But, it’ll attack u-”
“Trust me!” I then honked my horn and it backed up. It then rushed, then stopped, a mock charge. Eventually, it moved out of the road, disappearing into the darkness. We sighed in relief.
“That was close”, Matt sighed. I then continued to drive in the night, headlights leading the way. The road is bumpy, as noticed by every ditch and peak we hit, but surprisingly, Matt was fast asleep. I began to get comfortable driving and used to the road by that point. It was silent for a while until we hit a smaller intersection. That is when the truck shut down, completely and stopped. I tried the gas many times but with no effect. There is no light, nothing. It is near-darkness here, shone only by the moonlight.
“Shit”, I yelled, desperate to turn the truck on without much success. Matt woke up, confused.
“What happened”, he yawned.
“The truck turned itself off. I can’t get it back on”, I fretted and at that moment, Matt was just as panicked as I am.
“Why?”
“I-I don’t know. One moment, we were driving, another it just-”, I quavered, when I heard something rustle in the distance. We stood still, hoping whatever it was didn’t find us. I looked around, hoping to see something in the moonlight. I then see a long, walking animal. It looked like some sort of alligator at first, except for a dinosaur-like head. Once I strained my eyes to the darkness, my fear levels rose as I could see it walk on its hind limbs, with its forelimbs dangling nearly touching the ground.
It was wandering around on the road when I heard a near-crocodilian growl at Matt’s side of the truck. Another of those creatures appeared, seemingly looking into the window like a hungry bear, giving us a chance to see its scaly head. Its exposed alligator teeth gleaned in the light like knives, but more terrifying was the eye. Its serpentine pupil shone brilliantly in the light like eyes in the dark. It then ducked down, gave a hiss, and moved towards the other one. A few more showed up and formed a group.
“What should we do”, Matt asked. “Should we stay?” I looked around, hoping for another way to escape them without them noticing. I further strained my eyes and mentally mapped out the area. There is a cemetery on my right-hand side, a grain bin storage yard on my left and a series of trailers on the other side of the highway, which is ahead of us, from the storage area. There, I see a series of white, storage buildings, something we can go to and wait it out inside.
“Okay, so slowly open the door”, I instructed Matt. The click of the doors opening cringed us. We looked at the group, but there was no response from them. We then, as slowly as we could, opened the door and stepped out. Still no response. Matt then quietly ran to the other side, towards me. “Okay, we are going into the storage yard and go to the other entrance”, I said, pointing to the other right-hand corner. I wanted to get as far away from these things as possible before making a safe crossing. “Then, we cross the highway on the other side, run into the buildings and stay there for the night. Are you ready?”
“I guess”, he whispered, looking at me in fearful doubt.
“We are going to do this”, I whispered back. We then silently ran over, having to rely on our night-adapted eyes, to the corner, walking past the bins. We made it and nothing behind us so far. “We’re good so far.” We then crossed the road and noticed nothing. We noticed a tanker truck, leaking some sort of fluid across the road. I easily recognized it as fuel, based on its distinctive, sickly smell. I wouldn’t be worried about it if it weren’t for a collapsed light pole that is somehow still flickering with electricity near the area where the fuel would be flowing. We quickly avoided the fluid when I froze to see the group of the walking alligators, running towards us. “Run!” Matt tried to run, but one of those things appeared and clamped its jaws at the back of his neck. He yelped in pain and it took him down to the ground. “Matt”, I yelled, helplessly watching as the creature tore into him.
Matt reached out his arm before the others came to him, then a flash of fire came. At this point, I knew what happened, but I couldn’t even think before it exploded. It blew me towards the building, far away. I was knocked out for a few seconds before I regained consciousness, groaning in pain on the ice. I noticed something especially painful just below my chest. I reached towards the area with my hand. I pressed on it, more painful than ever and raised my hand, only to see blood, brightened by the fire. I realised I was wounded, maybe by shrapnel made by the explosion.
I looked toward where the truck was and all I saw was a blaze. Those things weren’t there, at least. I also noticed something else, too, there’s no Matt. I tried to look around for something, some sort of sign of my brother within the fire, but I saw none. I then wept, realising I had failed. I have failed to keep him safe. I have failed to give him a better life. I failed him as a sister. I could’ve done better. The thoughts poured in as tears glazed my eyes. At that moment, I failed to look around me.
I noticed a dark thing beside the blaze. I thought it was Matt, preparing to greet him back, even though I knew he couldn’t survive the explosion. The image became clearer and clearer as I noticed it was one of the walking crocs that, glazed by the fire, was coming towards me.
“Just kill me”, I screamed, preparing to painfully die to meet my maker. The creature was about to attack me when something large, silent as the wind, came charging and clamped down its massive jaws, filled with conical teeth on the hapless creature and raised it. The crocodile struggled before going limp with a crunch within its strong jaws. The big, dark and scaly monster that it is towered over me and is as long as a bus, possibly longer. Its large legs are a contradiction to its small arms that hide beneath its scarred, bulky body.
It turned to look at me with an oddly bird-like expression, revealing in the firelight numerous scars from battles I could never know and looked at me with its beady bird-like eyes, breathing out wisps from its nostrils like a dragon in the cool air. I recognized it as a creature I know too well, a T. Rex. I breathed heavily and sickly, looking at the thing, nearly expecting me to drop the body and go after me. Instead, it simply walked away, carrying its bloody prize with it, and steadily retreated into the darkness.
I then lay down in agonizing exhaustion on my back, thinking of the next step of action like I'm on a suicide mission I would never come back from. I looked in the direction of the graveyard and had one thought. I guess I am dying. a graveyard will do. I struggled to stand up, noticing my blood-soaked clothes and felt a broken left leg. I grasped my wound, limping step by step and enduring the sharp pain while shaking in the cold. Every step I took, I remembered all the memories, good or bad, that I had with my parents. My brother. My friends. My family. I eventually reached the cemetery and slouched at a tree.
“Guess I’m joining you, guys”, I said, speaking to the snow-covered gravestones, only to hear something. A familiar sound of chirping emerged and, lit by the blaze, it was a sight I can hope for. “Joe, what are you doing here”, I depressingly cheered as Joe went to me and curled up in my lap as if he were a cat. I noticed the new-found scar he had on his little snout, but I paid no mind as I petted him. “I guess you came back. Thank you so much for what you did”, I thanked him, not expecting such a loyal creature would be with me, comforting me, to the end, like what my mother used to do when I was a newborn. I heard another noise, this time a deep rumble.
I thought it was another earthquake coming, but it got louder the closer it got to me, becoming more animalistic only felt small vibrations I barely felt. Joe stayed put, oddly enough, as T. Rex, different from the first one, came. It walked towards us until it stopped short of us. It began to produce a low-pitched, bird-like purring, attracting Joe. I realised something, that this T. Rex is Joe’s parent. He joined the rest like him, whom they showed up and all chirped around.
The grown Rex then brought its snout closer to me, not to kill me, but to look at me. It did not reveal its teeth and was still purring. I put my hand out and its nose came close to it. It rubbed it against my hand and started to pet its cold, scaly skin as it breathed through its nose and put it on my chest. I rested my head on it before it pulled away. It gave out a hiss, but I knew it wasn’t that of a threat, but more of a thank you for bringing its small, sometimes immature, child home.
That gave me relief, as it felt like I at least did something for once. They walked away, along with Joe, towards the darkness amongst the gravestones in the cemetery. I glimpsed one last desperate look at Joe before walking beside his parent. I looked up at the sky and I could see all the stars, twinkling, and the dancing green auroras. I began to feel limp and felt the cold embrace of death coming over me, tears pouring out of my eyes. The sky then grew brighter and brighter, the stars faded into the light and I could see my family welcoming me to a new home. It then slowly went black, darker than a cave.
You would think this is the end of me. It wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I eventually woke up in a hospital in Regina. I was told I was rescued by a team that transported me while I was in a coma. The doctors said I was very lucky to be alive, as the shrapnel narrowly avoided my vital organs. After that, I was adopted into a new family, but I was only with them for a couple of years before finding a new job and moving out.
As for Sam, I don’t know what happened to her. I would like to think she is safe, somewhere else. As for my family, I think of them all the time. I was in a depressive period right after that. Eventually, over the years, I accepted that they were gone and went to a better place. For Joe, I would like to think he is all grown up, like his parents, and becoming the king of the jungle. I hope we meet again.
As for the evacuated area, it wasn’t some pipeline rupture that caused an evaluation, but an anomaly, with the exact reason not known. There are excuses for the claims of weird stuff going on in there, from disease to chemicals, to eventually a previously unknown geological event, but I saw through it all.
You may ask how, it's because I've been there. Take it or leave it, this is the story I have. As the decade came by, cover-ups were made to hide it, even walls were put around it. Since the incident, the exclusion zone grew from a mere 80 kilometers in diameter to 460 kilometers in diameter, emptying entire cities of the likes of Regina and Saskatoon. I had to move to North Battleford, by the recommendation from the same government covering it up, making me think that time will tell before the floodgates of truth open.
The anomaly didn’t have a name initially, however, over the years, everyone agreed on one name in particular: The Saskatchewan Anomaly.

I am a 26 year old male.
About 7 years ago, I suddenly noticed that not matter how hard I strained, it felt like I couldn’t fully evacuate stool and would have the “infinite wipe glitch” (especially if it was tacky).
I went to my dr. and he sort of just hand-waved it as "IBS" and checked my prostate.
Fast forward to about 4 years ago, and I started taking metamucil when I was having a bout of digestive issues to get my system aligned, which worked really well.
Then (not sure if related or coincidence) I started getting a crazy bad urge to urinate, especially right before bed. Sometimes having to go 5 times right before bed in a row, minutes apart.
That ebbed and flowed over the past 4 years, but I feel like it has become permanent in the last 2 years. There are still periods where I don’t notice for a week or a few days.
I also notice that when I wake up in the morning I have to pee and it’s like an almost sore/aching pain rather than what it used to feel like years ago when I had to go.
Additional symptom I have noticed is that when this is all flaring up, I need to fully empty my bladder prior to sex or it’ll make me ejaculate quicker than normal and kind of build up in feeling like I have to pee throughout the course of intercourse.
I have hemmroids (bright blood on TP pretty frequently when wiping) also - really fun, right.
I notice my symptoms flare up the most after bowel movements, and sort of exacerbate themselves the more I think about them. Also flare up after masturbation/sex sometimes. Also think my pee stream is weak most of the time. Semen also sometimes has yellowish hue. Negative on UTI tests.
(Note: I did notice the weird peeing/sex thing as early as when I was 16 flare up sometimes)
I got a full body in depth scan some months ago and the only flagged issue was “mucosal thickening of the recto-sigmoid junction”, which can be a number of things or an artifact from scanning. My bilirubin is slightly elevated, but always has been (only slightly out of range). My LDL cholesterol is 110, aside from that labs are and have been all clean.
This has been really impacting my mental state the past few years, and I’m willing to spend any amount of time/money to get back to “normal”.
Doctor has started scheduling a colonoscopy for me because of the mucosal thickening that showed up on the scan. What specific steps should I take here? What type of specialists can I see for this?
I really appreciate you taking the time to read this and will update everyone on any answers I get.

Younger hooper here, i am 175cm, 47 kg, im pretty fast and explosive with a 37 inch vert but very injury prone. I play the 1-2 position, mostly use change of pace, using a crossover or a pushcross to explode pass the defender and/or pull up into the midrange jumper.
I use my own insole(pic 3 n 4), something I recommend everyone to do, and recently got a full length carbon fiber insole.
What i want in a shoe that is low to the ground, has stability, is snug, wont slip out, good cushioning, and comfortable.
My favourite shoes all time are spo1+, kyrie 7, freak4 and kyrie infinity.
Poron Insole review: (US9.5) TTS Usage: 100+ hours (casually and on court) Tech: Poron on forefoot and heel, gel from heel to midfoot. Performance: Insole fits in all my shoes, provides better step in comfort, no arch support. The insole itself has good impact protection, but putting it in the shoe itself is hard because of the gel sticking to the inside of the shoe. Will try same shoe but with tpu plastic from heel to midfoot.
Result: A-
Carbon fiber insoles review:(US9.5) TTS Usage: 5 hours+ (casually) Tech: full length carbon fiber from heel to toe, poron in the heel. Bouncy rubber holds the carbon fiber in place, memory foam on top. Performance: Not much to say currently, will bring this on court soon but currently i am trying to break them in. Currently very comfortable, very bouncy but forefoot will hurt when you land, still has heel compression.
Result: N/A
When you buy the insole you get the size of the bigger size, ie eu43 has 44, eu 45 has 46
Doom GT Cut:(US9.5) TTS Usage: 10+ hours on outdoor and rubberized courts, not tried on wooden floors. Tech: React midsole with full length zoom stroble and thick zoom unit in the heel. Performance: This shoe is wow! Honestly I expected way less because of the reviews. The traction is incredible, never slipped out. Cushion is amazing! I had to replace the zoom strobel however because it deflated over time, within my second session(low rim dunk training). I would watch out for durability but these never caused any knee pain which is a plus in my book. The react midsole bottomed out quicky and molded to my footshape, no clue if retail does this. Lockdown is good, the tpu piece at the side helped with lateral movements. I never felts unstable in these. Pretty low to the ground. Comfort is another strong point, I would wear these casually.
Result: A
LeBron Next Gen EP:(US9.5) TTS/0.5 Usage: 20+ hours(outdoors, rubberized and wooden court) Tech: Phylon midsole with Zoom in the forefoot and heel. I loved this shoe because of its colour, but I feel that this is kind of a letdown but definitely a great shoe for outdoor hoopers. Traction is great outdoors and on rubberized courts but it slid out on wooden courts when i was doing crossovers and defending, which as a small and light guard is a huge no no. Cushion is the best part of the shoe, the zoom turbo in the forefoot is great underfoot, heel zoom unit feels great for comfort and impact protection. Definitely amazing for guards playing outdoors. Lockdown isn’t that good from side to side because of the materials making the side of your feet slightly over the base, making it feel like your hanging slightly and feels unstable. I want to say that the quality of the materials isn’t the best, and sometimes how the upper contains my foot makes the shoe feel bottom heavy and sluggish.
Result: B+
Son Of Flash: (US9.5)TTS Usage: 60+ hours all on outdoor court Tech: Two boom pods in heel and forefoot caged in cloud foam. Performance: This shoe is everything its meant for, definitely an outdoor beast. The traction is wearing away at hot spots already but for me to always reach for them before going out speaks for its performance. Traction sticks on concrete, no matter how dusty or rough, it never slipped out. Cushion is plush in the heel and reactive in the forefoot. You dont feel the boom underfoot but it does its job. Lockdown is great, it feels like a kyrie in terms of how it plays but one issue i have is that this is the only shoe ive sprained my ankle very badly in. I dont blame the shoe because my landing mechanics that day were slightly off because one defender kept going in my landing space but after the sprain i could never go 100% in them. This is another shoe i would rock casually, very comfortable and plays well outdoors.
Result: A+
All city 11:(US9) TTS Usage: 20+ hours(outdoors and rubberized courts) Tech: full length caged boom Performance: One thing i regret is not using them more, and getting my true size, this is the most kyrie feeling shoe after i trashed my kyrie 7 and infinity but i didnt like the fit being 0.5 size down. Traction is the same as the son of flash as it’s amazing on outdoors and rubberized courts. Cushion isnt very plush underfoot but its low to the ground and responsive, impact protection does makes me sluggish after more then 2 hours and makes me sore the next day, but great for outdoor players.
Result: A
Why Not 0.3 SE:(US9.5) go down 0.5 Usage: 10+ hours Tech: forefoot zoom turbo and phylon midsole Performance: This is one of the worse shoes I’ve tried. They are pretty stable and make me play fast but you need to have perfect body control to always land on your forefoot because the phylon at the back doesn’t absorb shit and you FEEL it in your knees when you land. Traction is decent outdoors but I wouldn’t use it outdoors, only rubberised courts and indoor, maybe light pickup to have fun, definitely not 4v4 half court or 5v5 full court. Fit is my favourite part of the shoe, wide foot friendly and super comfortable, materials are good too.
C+
WKB kobe 6(US9.5) TTS Usage:100+ hours on rubberized, outdoors and wooden courts. Tech: Zoom turbo in the forefoot and zoom unit in the heel, cushlon midsole Performance: These are my second favourite shoe, definitely will get more pairs once these completely die out. Traction is insane, no squeak but sticks and doesn’t collect dust. Cushion is very good also, I never felt sore after the game ever, it doesn’t help your bounce because it’s more like subtle in how it works. Lockdown and support is good, lateral support is excellent, but materials are stiff and doesn’t feel like retail. Anyone who gets this shoe I’d recommend wearing them around the house and double socking. This shit heats up, and break in time breaks your feet before the shoe breaks in.
Result: A+
Giannis Immortality: (US9) go TTS Usage:50+ hours Tech: phylon midsole Performance: lasted well before the cushion bottomed out, will probably get an insole for all my shoes that have no cushion so I can play in them. Traction is the best part of the shoe, sticks on wood, outdoors, rubberized, better then some of my retails, herringbone works guys. Cushion is decent but hurts my knees, don’t really recommend for anyone above 50 kg without a rotation. Materials is where it sucks, the upper tore in where my foot needs support the most and now I can feel it sometimes slightly tearing the more I play.
Result: D
DF kobe 5: Usage: 10+ hours on outdoor court. Tech: ??? All foam Performance: this is the worse shoe I own. Traction sucked even after cleaning but getting better slightly, cushion was okay for maybe 5 hours on court before it bottomed out, maybe an insole can fix it.
Result: F
Have not tried on Kai 1 or pg 6 but lemme just say Kai 1 is my favourite fitting shoe now, both are extremely comfortable, Kai 1 might be my new game day shoe
Ask any questions!

Hi y'all, I've been seeing a rheumatologist for a couple months. It started with gastro symptoms, and then continued to arthritis, itching but no rash, fatigue, muscle weakness, swollen tender lymphnodes in neck arm pit and groin, cheat pain, pain with deep breaths, rolling low grade fevers (37.4 to 38.2) and weight loss. I have a 320 ANA, 320 speckled and 320 homogeneous ANA. I was diagnosed yesterday with Adult Stills disease but I'm having a hard know if stomach issues are involved.

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

Started on 5/9 with a low grade fever, cough, body aches, congestion. The fever went away on 5/11 and then started the diarrhea. I got tested today and positive for A.
Anybody else have diarrhea as a symptom? I haven’t had influenza in forever but I don’t remember this being a symptom.
When does it end?!

I started getting sick (sore throat, congestion, sneezing, coughing) and it’s been hell. Honestly I’d take an extra week with drains instead of being sick.
It’s also been hard because I’m on wellbutrin and I have negative interactions with typical cold medicine, particularly dextromethorphan (cough suppressant) so I have been relying on expectorant, decongestants, cough drops, teas, sleeping next to a humidifier, etc.
Luckily it’s not hurting too much to cough but sneezing hurts. It’s more annoying than anything as I’ve been sneezing like crazy. Also, I think my lymph nodes are swollen or something because my armpits hurt real bad, they feel sore and swollen.
I’m really worried getting sick is going to affect how my scars heal or just the healing process in general. On the other hand, should I not be too worried that I got sick now since my immune system is already focusing on healing myself? I’m just trying to think positively but also want to be realistic. Haven’t had a fever and I’ve been testing negative for covid.
I’m seeing my doctor tomorrow for my first post op appointment. I’m pretty sure I will be getting my drains out as the output has been less than 15ml for more than 3 days now. Fingers crossed being sick won’t change anything.
Anyone else experience getting sick shortly after getting top surgery? Was there anything you did that helped get through it?

I was with a guy until december, which was our last contact. Did not interact in any way with another man until about last month. He eventually got sick about a week and a half after we first kissed. He says he knows his body and he never “gets sick like this”. He has a spot in his throat which lead him to believe it was mono, but tested negative. He now things it could be chlamydia? The issue is, I have not had any symptoms other than a sore throat for 2 days, and then a few weeks later, a cough and stuffy nose. I get sick very often as I suspect I have had something wrong with my immune system my whole life. Is chlamydia even likely in this case? I only did oral with the guy in December, and have only kissed the current guy.

I’m so desperate for help, advice, answers, experiences (anything!) from someone/anyone who may have experienced or is going through the same as me!
In March 2024, I had a horrible sore throat so naturally I went to get tested for strep, Covid, and the flu. My rapid test came back negative for all 3 and the next day I was completely back to feeling great. 3 days later I get a call that my strep culture came back positive but I wasn’t prescribed any antibiotics because I was symptom free.
Early April 2024 I very suddenly came down with a high fever and body aches (with no warning signs or any other cold symptoms). Got tested again, everything was negative and I was fine within 24 hours.
**1 week later on the tail end of my period I developed horrible vaginal pain and sensitivity to the point I couldn’t sit down. My vulva was so irritated that it became raw and was bleeding light pink externally. I went to a woman’s clinic where they swabbed me. took a urine culture, and prescribed me bactrim while we waited for the test results. The test came back positive for strep 2 days later and a very high count of white blood cells (the untreated strep from march travelled through my system south!!! Didn’t even know this was possible). That same day I ended up in the hospital for a fainting spell, confusion, and nausea. After more testing the doctor found that the antibiotic wasn’t treating the infection so he prescribed Keflex 4X/day for 7 days. By day 2 I was feeling so much better (vaginal pain and all other irritations were fully resolved!)
5/1/2024 (5 days after finishing the keflex) I woke up with a severe sore/swollen throat and tested positive for Strep throat AGAIN. Here goes round 2 of antibiotics, now prescribed cefdinir 2x/day for 10 days. 2 days in once again, feeling great and took the 10 days finally felt better than I had in 2 months. I finished the cefdinir this past Friday (it’s now Monday) ….
I got my period yesterday (Sunday) and it was extremely heavy, much heavier than usual. Accompanied by severe cramps. Today mid morning I developed the same exact vaginal symptoms I had before testing positive for vaginal strep A!! The same rawness, tender, swollen feeling all external. Just a pad touching the area is excruciating pain and I can’t even fathom using a tampon.
What could this be? Strep again?! pH imbalance from the 2 rounds of antibiotics?! The blood from my period being such a high pH?! As I’m writing this all out I’m wondering if my period last month is what trigged the symptoms of the vaginal strep.. the month between my periods my vagina was completely healthy and feeling fine! HELP!
(Ive been tested for STDs which have all come back negative. I’m in a monogamous relationship (for 8 years). He was tested for strep orally and the results were negative)

I’m so desperate for help, advice, answers, experiences (anything!) from someone/anyone who may have experienced or is going through the same as me!
In March 2024, I had a horrible sore throat so naturally I went to get tested for strep, Covid, and the flu. My rapid test came back negative for all 3 and the next day I was completely back to feeling great. 3 days later I get a call that my strep culture came back positive but I wasn’t prescribed any antibiotics because I was symptom free.
Early April 2024 I very suddenly came down with a high fever and body aches (with no warning signs or any other cold symptoms). Got tested again, everything was negative and I was fine within 24 hours.
**1 week later on the tail end of my period I developed horrible vaginal pain and sensitivity to the point I couldn’t sit down. My vulva was so irritated that it became raw and was bleeding light pink externally. I went to a woman’s clinic where they swabbed me. took a urine culture, and prescribed me bactrim while we waited for the test results. The test came back positive for strep 2 days later and a very high count of white blood cells (the untreated strep from march travelled through my system south!!! Didn’t even know this was possible). That same day I ended up in the hospital for a fainting spell, confusion, and nausea. After more testing the doctor found that the antibiotic wasn’t treating the infection so he prescribed Keflex 4X/day for 7 days. By day 2 I was feeling so much better (vaginal pain and all other irritations were fully resolved!)
5/1/2024 (5 days after finishing the keflex) I woke up with a severe sore/swollen throat and tested positive for Strep throat AGAIN. Here goes round 2 of antibiotics, now prescribed cefdinir 2x/day for 10 days. 2 days in once again, feeling great and took the 10 days finally felt better than I had in 2 months. I finished the cefdinir this past Friday (it’s now Monday) ….
I got my period yesterday (Sunday) and it was extremely heavy, much heavier than usual. Accompanied by severe cramps. Today mid morning I developed the same exact vaginal symptoms I had before testing positive for vaginal strep A!! The same rawness, tender, swollen feeling all external. Just a pad touching the area is excruciating pain and I can’t even fathom using a tampon.
What could this be? Strep again?! pH imbalance from the 2 rounds of antibiotics?! The blood from my period being such a high pH?! As I’m writing this all out I’m wondering if my period last month is what trigged the symptoms of the vaginal strep.. the month between my periods my vagina was completely healthy and feeling fine! HELP!
(Ive been tested for STDs which have all come back negative. I’m in a monogamous relationship (for 8 years). He was tested for strep orally and the results were negative)