Vitb12 liquid stomach ache

I have been dealing with a terrible flare up for months, with a swollen throat, heartburn, and stomach aches no matter what I ate. I tried the acid watchers diet and it did not work for me. I finally switched to a very low carb diet and I have not had stomach issues for a couple weeks now! I have heard some people theorize that an overgrowth of yeast can cause a weakening of the LES, so I am wondering if that was the case for me. However, I still have some throat swelling that I can’t seem to shake. For those of you who have found success with a low carb diet, low long did it take to eliminate the silent GERD symptoms?

I miss you. I breathe in hollow oceans of oxygen, breathe out dispirited sighs, and I miss you. I remember, all of it, forever knitted into the backdrop of my mind. And I miss you. I encourage my thoughts to drift, to breathe in your smell, once again; the heady-salt-you taste of your skin that soothes and devastates my insides... And, always, I miss you. I miss you as the sun's rays flood life into my eyes, and feel remorse for all the moments in which we never stood a chance to meet. Lifetimes pass before my eyes - a cruel infinitesimal flipbook accordion, while incidental moments of contentment allow me to forget that you aren’t coming back to me; that this was never a crafty ploy, nor deceit. This was just as real to you as it always was to me.
I miss you as the day fades away. I find myself observing the moon as she rises; the blinding angel of unfathomably dark skies. She welcomes desires of the heart like no other. The quiet dreams… those that ring with gentle sincerity. Wishes that pry open our eyes… not merely keep us caged inside, in some complex dichotomy of petty lies and false, shiny pride. The simple truths that stir up buried emotion… softly dissolving unwarranted beams of deflection.
These are no tricks of the light, for she gracefully holds onto our shackles for the night. Illuminating our quietest dreams - simple, or steep - the ones we tuck carefully back into covers as we drift off to sleep. She seems to hold them tenderly, with faultless empathy - she expresses her love the way that you alone first did for me. I open my heart to her, face to face, and wish so desperately that I wanted, even the tiniest bit, to wipe this heart clean from your name.
I miss you when my mind wanders astray... remembering your firm, gentle hands, wide enough to encompass my perpetually rigid shoulder blades - rhetorically asking with those knowing eyes if I’m sure that I’m okay. An inviting, omniscient eyebrow, raised in heartfelt skepticism, would reach near-comically up towards the skies. I yearn perilously to relive memories of your fingertips painting glorious brushstrokes of comfort deeply into my palms and thighs, my fingers smoothing delicate circles into the soft temple of your stomach, or earnestly kneading limbs into muscle and sinew, to unsnarl buried tension I wish you wouldn't carry with such pride. I miss so terribly the unfaltering way your eyes were never the first to leave mine.
Painstakingly grasping at memories, over and over again, lest I forget our intoxicating entanglement forged in guileless sin, awakened within long-desired freedom of permission to press my soul tightly to yours; my skin against your skin. Devotional temples crafted of blood, flesh, and bone... we crash, coalesce into the primordial dance of ritually shifting muscle tone, melding in tandem like we were made for just this; living for reverential treasures found through teasing out each rich, dulcet groan. God forbid I forget the apocalyptic first or sorrowful last time that we kissed. Your touch was soft as a brook, purified in holy fires of love and pain; we were both cursed and blessed in the sanctity of our bliss. I wish, and I wish, that I wanted, even a little bit, to forget the heart-wrenching beauty of your soul, rolling in rhythms bespoken of a divine masochist. I dream of all the different versions of your pleasure I could draw out with my heart, body, and mind. If only, if only. If only. If only we’d had more time.
I miss you when I’m feeling soft. Aching to hold, to bestow my adoration with entranced fingertips and promises of devotion flowing through my soul. I hold remorse in each moment of happiness; I grieve our denouement when faced with each softer, wiser version of myself that you may never get to meet. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you gifted me your ace while I kept my cards hidden behind the flimsy illusion of fate. Why did you have to be too good to be true? So unbearably right for me... and I, for you.
For as long as I live, at the very least, I promise you this: I will never forget the light breathing life back into our eyes; you spoke your dreams and they harmonized into a luscious symphony, for our holy-grail prize is the empyrean way your deepest dreams are eternally woven with mine. I will never forget the merging of our wounded hearts… creating something sweet out of individually broken parts, which might as well have been defined by the jaded ring of defeat and self-perpetuating misery. I remember how you thought I was there to help you heal; it's much more fitting to know, now, that's what you also did for me. Hands crafted for love, with the heart of a saint, a Tartarean soul, and a delightfully subterranean mind... your exhilarating essence must also lament the compelling trials of hell required to walk so freely in the light.
and yet. And yet, and.... and yet. There's no just resolution for this cutthroat twist of fate. The only words that could satiate this pain are: tell me you need me, too, and you understand how I could wait. You will find your way back home to me no matter how grueling the journey. No matter how long it takes. I will miss you in the vibrating silences between sounds, in quiet caverns where I escape to contemplate. And I miss you in each parting of my lips; reminding me where yours belong. I will miss the way your happiness is bound to my fatal red thread; needing the way you lead me back into my soul's truest song.
I miss your schoolboy bouts of joy and the instinctive way our minds, bodies, and souls clash-blend so masterfully... authentic connection; we were poetry in motion, art raised into life. Holy fools with souls of the wise, we were sacrilegion itself and the most sacred, fine wine. I swear, I'd be content to listen to you talk at unforgivable length, each and every passable day. I would do it all with easier smiles alighting upon my face if you would just come home and reclaim your place.
I swear that I could be brave enough to put on the cape, even when we're both afraid. I would shoulder the weight this time, not leave you stranded at sea... I owe you that and so much more: a truth revealed overwhelmingly clear, to me. I could be healed enough to trust, this time, dismantling towers of mirage, unveiling well-masked fear and uncertainty. Or at the very least, I could do my best. We could put these tearful convictions to the test to discover once and for all whether or not they really ought to be laid to rest.
I know, you're not coming back for me, yet I wait for you, still - against all rational mind. It makes little sense, yet little else means more, to me... my pure and Plutonian love, it is my steadfast belief that you, and you alone, hold my key.

Some Backstory:
I've been experimenting with the goal of being able to achieve NEO (None Ejaculatory Orgasm) and Multiple Orgasms. (of course with an interest in Energy Orgasm as well, but as a later goal).
Having read a lot of materials online and through books, I of course tried the popular method of doing a strong kegel just prior to PONR - a prevalent method that is often recommended online and also one that was described in Keesling's book "How to Make Love All Night" in which it says to practice edging up to say 40%, 60, 80% arousal and doing a strong kegel followed by a deep breath and relxation. However, when I attempted it, what I noticed was that even if I was stopping at say 60% arousal, the strong kegel I performed and held ironically skyrocketed my arousal in a rapid acceleration. And within seconds I felt the strong sense of semen being loaded up into the tubes that triggers the inevitable eruption/ejaculation. I remembered clearly that the 60% arousal wasn't anywhere close to the PONR and in all honestly, the arousal would've just stopped by itself if I just relaxed instead of performing a strong kegel at that moment. In hindsight, this is no surprise as a strong kegel is supposed to temporary trigger and increase the arousal. Of course I've tried kegeling hard closer to the PONR, at say 90%.... perhaps I didn't do it right, but it had never worked for me. My arousal always increased after the strong kegel.
Recent Experiment and Result:
After having read people's discussions in regards to the Relaxation Method, I've tried it myself and finally felt like I was onto something. Here I will describe my experience a bit but I also have some questions for those who have more experience.
Basically I did some belly breathing to relax my mind and body. Then the next step is basically getting to a very light arousal state. I usually listen to erotic audio during this, but some light touches around the genital region, top part of the shaft, head sometimes when it's required. Basically just to slowly jump start the subtle arousal feeling (penis can sometimes be erect but doesn't have to be). This is followed by slowly sending/gathering more energy down at the genital region (sacral chakra?)
Here you will have to experiment yourself, I think both inhaling and breathing into the stomach/belly rise as well as exhaling into the belly work. It takes a lot of experimenting to really feel what feels right for you and to do it without tensing your body - either raising/inflating the belly too hard or tensing the abs too much. After some experimenting, what systematically worked for me was a fast exhale through the nose which at the same time will raise/push out the belly a little bit. dont exert force on pushing the belly out, the force from exhaling from your nose is enough and the belly doesn't have to get pushed out/raised that much. at the end of that exhale/belly rise, relax the stomach and 'roll' into a nose inhale. (this whole process should feel like wave. the wave pushing up and out (from nose exhale and the subsequent result of slight belly rise) to relaxing and starting the nose inhale which will slowly relax your stomach and lower until it's time to exhale through the nose again. (i know earlier i've said that the belly rises with the exhale, but when you're doing this in a cycle the more appropriate description is that the belly rise coincides with the end of the inhale/from the belly drop and into the exhale of belly rise. an effortless transition of the breath. this will help you avoid tensing your body as well because it's very natural. This I feel is very pivotal to my progress and I hope I have described it well, because there's so many different ways to breathe and in the past I had a real hard time pinning down the exact way to breathe so I would breathe a certain way, then another, and sometimes I would feel a slight arousal build-up, and sometimes it felt like I was tensing my body too much, my abs too much, inflating my belly too much, etc.
I'm really not an expert, and I'm still at the very early stage of discovery. Can anyone confirm if i'm describing it correctly? OK, I will describe what I noticed next.
Doing the above rhythm of breathing seems to slowly gather energy to that region and you will feel the energy build up. It will feel like tingles and this will build up. What happened to me next was a pulsating feeling to my penis. up and down? in and out? it's hard to describe. but the pulsating feeling felt like my penis subtly bouncing up and down (i dont know if my penis actually was bouncing 'cuz i did this at night with the lights off... but it felt like that).
This is a stronger arousal feeling and a more pleasant feeling than the initial tingles. and once in a while i would feel a slight trickle of precum? liquid coming out? sometimes it might just be the feeling? not really sure.
After a while, the arousal feeling will subside and I would just start all over again. Lightly touch the genital region, the head, the top of the shaft. you can also do a few kegels once you start noticing some arousal feelings and the few quick kegels (dont have to hold, just squeeze and release) should make your penis jump up and down and quickly get you to a more erect/aroused state. after that, just do the rhythm breathing again and you will get to enjoy the same sensations as before.
My analysis and thoughts:
The breathing I am doing I believe is basically triggering a very natural reverse kegel throughout the whole process. and reverse kegel - unlike regular kegel allows continuous bloodflow into the penis unlike the regular kegel squeeze which even-though will give more more erection temporary, but will actually cut off the bloodflow if holding it for too long. In addition, reverse kegel relaxes the pelvic floor muscles and prevents your bc muscle from getting triggered when you get too aroused or when your penis starts ejaculating. So after these experiments, I am now a strong believer in the importance of reverse kegel. I think this is why I was able to keep riding this wave for hours without ejaculating. because the reverse kegel is keep the bc muscle in check and preventing it from tensing.
QUESTIONS to those with more experience:
This was already a very pleasant experience for me, but what was the pulsating feeling and the occasional precum/liquid oozing out feeling that I was experiencing? was that NEO? or some kind of mini orgasm? if not, what does a NEO feel like? Is it the physical feeling of penis pumping like during an actual ejaculation - albeit, without the semen? A 'Dry Orgasm'?
So far I have just worked on continuously getting to that state... and most times it would subside which will require me to build it back up again to experience that pulsating feeling. and that was wonderful. However, ONE TIME, I was able to keep the rhythm going for longer than usual and there was definitely a stronger buildup type of feeling in the penis. a stronger arousal, like my penis is completely filled up with energy and about to burst kind of feeling - even a little sharp sting at the tip of the penis (hole area?). Maybe it's from too much bloodflow to the penis? In any case, I relaxed at that point and just let the feeling subsided and continued to build up again.
Should I have kept going? was that the next higher arousal state and I should just let it continue to buildup and happen? Where does that lead? a dry orgasm (NEO) ? Any tip on what I should do next to achieve a dry orgasm (NEO)? and how to transmute that sexual energy into an Energy Orgasm that is felt throughout the whole body?
A side note: I'm usually a guy who cums rather quickly from masturbation. And in the past, even if i stop manually touching my penis in the hopes of lowering my arousal, the tingling arousal feeling would never truly go away even if i have lost my erection and am flaccid. It would remain in a very highly sensitive state and any moderate touch or attempt to edge again would inevitably lead to a ejaculation short after. YET, somehow this this completely different. I was able to build up the arousal using this rhythm and breathing approach and keep going for hours.

Writing Prompt: "For the last time I am a SIREN! Mermaids are women!"
Story: A man meticulously unwinds the bandages from a fragile pigeon. It coos softly in his palm as he tenderly strokes its neck. In this long-awaited moment, he theatrically raises his hand to the sky, releasing the bird, only to be jolted by a sharp crack piercing the air. He watches as feathers drift down, one by one, before recoiling at the bird's abrupt, lifeless fall.
“Ey, I’m weary of fish every night,” the scruffy sailor mutters, lowering his gun and adjusting his tricorne hat. He yaks the dead pigeon by the neck. "Oy, was that your friend, Orson?" Orson drops to his knees, eyes brimming with tears, enraged. "Gentlemen, Orson here has spent the last week nursing our dinner back to health and now has graciously agreed to gut and cook it for us. What a nice guy ey?" He tosses the bird at Orson as the crew gathers mocking him.
Orson complies, a shameful whisper escaping his lips, "Aye aye, captain."
The night grew old as the moon full. “You know, a full belly really puts me in the mood,” a sailor grunted, ambling toward the net full of fish, his hand rubbing his crotch. Inside the net was an unclothed woman with long brown hair, lifting her head from the pile of fish, clambering over the squirming creatures. She clutches the net with terror in her eyes. “The captain swore on his mother that the bitch grew legs when he caught her. I wonder if a mermaid’s booty tastes as fishy as me wife’s,” the sailor jeered, undoing his pants. The rest of the crew follows, their hips thrusting forward toward the girl.
Orson stood before the group of men, raising his hands in protest. “Step aside Orson! You keep forgetting—the nice guys finish last. So that means you can have your turn with her after we’ve all had a go.”
The captain steps between Orson and the crew declaring, “The sweet nectar that drips from the mermaid’s thighs is reserved for the king only!” The crew groans, pulling up their pants and cleared out.
Orson turned to give the captive woman a reassuring nod but was instantly ensnared by the vastness of her eyes. He stood in a complete trance, seemingly responding to nothing. “How are you talking without making noise?” he asks her, captivated not by her beauty, but by the slightest tilt of her head. “You are somehow conveying thought without words. I didn’t know mermaids were able to do that.” All her movements were profound and deliberate, even a mere blink was purposeful. After a moment of staring, he repeats what she conveyed back to her, “So you can’t talk or transform unless there’s water? A siren you say?” Tears began to swell in her eyes, followed by another familiar look of terror. Orson mirrored her expression in their nonverbal conversation before sprinting back to the captain’s quarters.
“Siren? Those are myths, and they fly, not swim. Do not let the mermaid fool you!” the captain bellowed, swigging from the pungent brown liquid in his glass. “Of course, captain, but I do believe her warning is genuine if we don’t let her go,” Orson reasoned. The captain hurled his glass across the room. “The king’s brother married a red headed mermaid. I know how competitive the royal family is. If I can make the same happen for our king, he’d reward me until the day I die. Don’t mess this up for—”
Orson and the captain pause. It is faint, but a low, graceful harmony gently brushes through the ship's halls. Orson lowers his gaze, shaking his head in grim realization as the captain rushes to his arsenal. Orson clenches the barrel of the captain’s loaded rifle, forcing it downward. The captain retaliates with a blunt strike to Orson’s head. He immediately crumbles to the ground. The soothing tune that crescendoed deepened his weary state. As his vision fades, he deciphers the captain’s silent words: “We have a squeeze for the king, so we’ll just help ourselves to her mermaid friends.”
Orson awoke, finding himself lying on his side in a cell, face to face with a woman who met his gaze. He held his throbbing head, sitting himself up. "It's nice to see you outside of the net," he remarked softly. The woman remained silent, her eyes speaking volumes. Orson studied her every movement, interpreting each twitch and gesture as if they were words themselves. "Thank you, but nice is the last thing I should've been. If I had resisted a bit more than I had, perhaps you could've been free," he mused regretfully. She communicated her disagreement with a gentle shake of her head, cracking a slight smile tenderly stroking her hair as a response.
Confused, Orson echoed her unspoken question. "I don’t know. Tell me, why do you think he was right about the nice guys finishing last thing?" The woman traces her finger around Orson’s lips and down his chin, a sensual gesture that made him swallow nervously as he listened to her response in his mind. "A very insightful mermaid, aren’t ya—?" Orson pauses as if interrupted, “Sorry, yes, I forgot. You’re a sirin and mermaids are women, I won’t forget it again,” he replied, feeling a palpable attraction between them.
Orson glanced at the terrified sailor standing guard outside the cell. Before he could inquire about the commotion on the deck of the ship, a haunting melody ominously reverberated throughout the vessel again. Orson and the siren exchanged uneasy glances. The sailor pivoted to unbar the cell door, "The captain's likely done for. Take care of her," he commanded, gesturing toward the woman with his rifle, "and join me in dealing with the rest of these wretched creatures." The sailor left.
As Orson and the woman crept up the stairs to the deck, she tore off a pieces of his shirt stuffing it into his ears. He obeyed without question. On deck, hidden in a shadowy corner behind barrels was the captain cowering, hands clamped over his ears. Through the thick fog smothering the ship, Orson saw men shuffling like the undead. The dark hymn persisted, driving each sailor to the edge where they plunged themselves into the mercy waters.
Orson, gripped by terror, stared toward the source of the haunting melody. In the distance, shrouded in mist, a woman lounged on a rock with one foot seductively pointed toward him. The arch of her back and the way she caressed her neck and collarbone drew him in, until a piercing note from the siren beside him shattered his focus. The powerful voices of the two cut through the darkness as they battle for Orson’s control.
Then, an echoing gunshot silenced everything. In the ensuing silence, Orson watches in horror as the distant woman falls off the rock and collapses into the water. The smoke trail was traced back to the captain’s rifle. Orson and the girl raised their arms in surrender. “I warned you, the mermaid is the king’s property!” The captain growled, aiming his gun at them. He then snatched a coil of rope from his belt and hurled it over. “Mr. Nice Guy, would you be so kind? Tie up your mermaid girlfriend as well,” the captain demanded with venomous sarcasm.
His smug stance faltered as the deafening sound of splintering wood tore into the side of the ship. Startled, he fumbled to reload his gun while Orson and the siren stood frozen, awaiting the horror that was climbing aboard. A woman, draped in ragged clothing fashioned from sea debris, leapt onto the deck with feral grace. She turns to the siren, “How dare you sing against your own kind for this simpleton!
The captain’s interference only ignited her fury further. “—I’ll be damned. Mermaids really can transform into people!”
She turned on the captain with blazing eyes. “For the last time, I am a SIREN! Mermaids are women!”
As swiftly as she came onboard, she was violently thrown off. A single bullet between the eyes from the captain was all it took for the woman to erupt in agony. Orson and the siren could only watch as the sea woman thrashed, her screams piercing the night. Foam bubbled from her mouth, and her legs twisted back into a jagged fishtail before the captain tossed her lifeless body back into the dark, churning water.
"Now, where were we?" he sneered, gesturing to the rope at their feet.
The sirens swimming amidst the ship were forced to stand down by their leader. Not because they lacked the power to kill the captain in an instant, but because of the gun he had shoved in the face of one of their own still onboard. Orson and the woman, eyes wide with terror, helplessly tied themselves up under the menacing gaze of the gun.
They sat in fear for their lives all night until they reached the city, bathed in the golden hues of the early morning sunshine. The beating sun didn’t bring solace to Orson; it more of a cruel prelude to the hell that awaited him.
Orson was condemned to death for defending the siren, deemed an act of treason for meddling with the king’s property. The girl, deemed "blessed" was forced into marriage with the king. The wedding and beheading were set to occur at the same ceremony. Both saw the day as the ultimate mockery of life; an forced arranged marriage and an unjust death intertwined into an agonizing spectacle.
Orson stained the once-beautiful paved brick path with a long streak of blood as he was dragged to the altar. He endured relentless beatings and vile insults from the townspeople as they spat and heckled. Not too far behind, escorted by the king’s knight, was the siren adorned in nothing but sheer fabric. The crowd erupted in applause and lewd whistles at her alluring figure visible through the transparent gown. Despite facing imminent death with his head resting on the guillotine, the overwhelming sense of shame and helplessness Orson felt for her tore at his heart.
It was only when he noticed discreet glances between the siren and some of the townswomen did the knots in his stomach begin to loosen. “Who knew mermaids had a mountain of a backside? She’ll be my favorite plaything yet, ey?” chuckled the king. Orson glares at the king towering beside him with a soft smirks. “She’s a siren. Mermaids are women you incompetent twat.” he hisses. The king didn't catch his precise words but responded with a snarl for speaking out of turn.
On cue, the king’s choir commenced the ceremony, sparing Orson another blow across the face. Listening intently, he noticed the peculiar nature of the song. It was angelic yet aggressive. The heavenly voices wavered, infused with a fierce yet mesmerizing melody. Several women in the crowd chimed in. Sensing the shift, the siren that stood before the king as his bride swiftly turned to Orson, stuffing cotton into his ears. The king’s hand clasps around the siren’s neck, his grasp tight. “You deceitful mermaids think you can outsmart me. I see through your tricks!” He points to the cotton in his ears.
Meeting the king’s gaze head-on, the siren communicates a silent message that echoed loud and clear in the minds of all those nearby.
“For the last time, I am a SIREN! Mermaids are women!”
With a single motion, she swipes a small blade concealed beneath her bosom and slashes the king’s throat. The gruesome sight of the king gurgling for air as blood spilled from his lips drove the women in the audience to flee in terror. Meanwhile the men, ensnared by the choir’s song, descended into a frenzy of gruesome acts.
With empty eyes, there were men that stumbled into the ocean’s embrace, drowning themselves. Others doused themselves in oil, igniting their bodies in flames. Some resorted to using butter knives to carve open their throats while others used forks to tear out their own eyes. The women of the choir, along with the remaining few standing amidst the sea of overturned chairs, all proceeded towards the nearby ocean. The newly freed Orson marveled at the transformation of the sirens, witnessing their smooth human legs morphing into stunning colorful fishtails.
Just as she was on the verge of swimming away, the siren pauses to lock eyes with Orson as her companions disappear into the depths of the water. Orson listens in wonder to the siren's voice for the first time.
"Do you remember what I told you?" she asks. "I am a SIREN! Mermaids are women!" Orson jokes. They both laugh. Rising from the water, she traces her finger along his chin. "No, I’m talking about the what I said that you called insightful." Orson gazes at the scattered corpses on land and the bodies floating in the ocean.
He blushes before replying, "Nice guys finish last because they last the longest."

There's no question that I am indeed the asshole, but I just no longer have empathy when my husband is sick. It's like the little boy who cried wolf at this point. He literally NEVER feels good, and most of the issues in our marriage go back to the fact that he sleeps all the time. I'm talking naps every day, and on weekends he will sleep until 4pm. Some thing always hurts. He does no sort of physical exercise, and constantly complains about aches and pains which I think is probably partially due to how sedentary he is. I have begged him to address the sleep issue, and he has been diagnosed with sleep apnea, but refuses to do any treatment. I think a lot of his health issues probably go back to that, but he simply isn't willing to address to overall root cause. Instead, he goes to urgent care whenever he has a bad cold or stomach issues. I do everything at the house with no help from him. When I am sick, I still clean, go to work, cook, etc. I travel for work and he can't even scoop the litter boxes daily when I'm gone due to whatever ailment he has that week. He was raised an only child, and never was held accountable for taking care of anything. I have three adult children from a previous marriage, and they are all very responsible and take care of themselves. I just have no tolerance anymore, and I think it's an excuse to be continually lazy. I feel a bit like a bad person, but I can't even pretend to care anymore about his constant illnesses. Anyone else ever feel like this or is this some severe personality disorder? I have so much empathy for everyone else, even strangers - it's just him.

I know Reddx is trying to move away from neckbeard stories, so I decided to finally submit my short NeckBeard encounter in the hopes that our humble lord Reddx would grace my scribbling with his melodious voice.
A quick warning that this contains attempted schmexual assault.
This story takes place ten years ago, two months after I turned nineteen. I had spent the previous year interning with a well-known horse trainer. (To this day, it's the coolest thing I have ever done.) I left home for the year-long internship a healthy 112lb at 5’1” and returned 105lb. I also had brown hair down to my waist, and my eyes appeared large in my too-thin face, and I was mistaken for 13 or 14 on a regular basis. I think I could have been considered beard-bait
Now, back living with my parents, I needed employment. My options were limited in our small town. I didn’t fancy trying to work at one of the crumbling fast food joints, so I applied for our local cleaning company. Being a maid sounded perfect! It combined my love of cleaning and my intense curiosity in the lives of strangers. I loved the idea of peeking into people`s homes and getting a glimpse of what took place behind twitching curtains.
After convincing the owner that I was indeed an adult and not a small child with a fake ID, I was hired. The owner placed me with two senior maids who we will call, Laverne and Shirley. Lavern and Shirley were former chain-smoking meth Muppets that now resembled shriveled craisins in their mid-forties. They had given up smoking for vaping; specifically, banana nut bread vape.
Laverne and Shirley had one other notable idiosyncrasy. Laverne would say something apropos of nothing, like “yesterday was too sunny for me” and finish the thought with a sing song “♪Ya know♪.” And then Shirley would repeat “♪Ya know♪.” This would continue the whole drive, between puffs of banana nut bread vape. To this day, I can’t hear someone say ‘ya know’ without muttering a ‘♪Ya know♪’ under my breath.
One fateful Tuesday, I pulled into work, hopped out of my 1993 Skylark, and into our cleaning van just like I had done for the past three weeks.
Shirley: Hey there TwatWaffle, we’re goin’ to a new house today. It’ll be our first time there. We might be there longer than usual.
Laverne: Hopefully you packed a good lunch. We can't stop today, ya know
Shirley: ♪ YA know ♪
OP: Oh, cool! I love cleaning new houses. Yeah, I packed lunch.
We were off on a new adventure. The light babbling of Laverne and Shirley’s inane chattering belied the utter horror that waited for me. Laverne turned into a housing development of McMansions, huge houses with two square feet of lawn, all built about five feet apart. We unloaded our equipment, swung open the door, and revealed… a beautiful, almost immaculate home. Sweet, this should be an easy, quick job. We all took a brief tour of the house to snoo- I mean, familiarize ourselves with the layout.
Shirley: The order says downstairs kitchen, bathroom, and living room. Upstairs bathroom and basement bathroom.
OP: Do you know how to get to the basement?
Laverne: No, this is our first time here too ya know
Shirley: ♪Ya know♪
So, we continued to familiarize ourselves by opening every door in the house to find the basement. After opening doors to pantries, bedrooms, closets, and an office, Laverne finally found the door that led to the basement.
Leverne: TwattWaffle! Shirley! Over here!
The door Laverne found opened to cement stairs that disappeared into a dark abyss. Shirley pushed past us and flicked on the light. The stairwell, now illuminated, led to a brightly lit exercise room. We all made our way down and surveyed the numerous and expensive pieces of workout equipment as we wandered deeper into the basement.
The basement was narrow but seemed to run the full length of the house. An opening to another hallway was at the opposite end of the exercise room. The hall was lit by a dull bulb, which cast a yellow light on the awful carpet it oversaw. The center of the carpet was a deep brown, and the edges a sad dusty pink. The carpet’s pile had long since had its will crushed and now laid flat. Stains of all shapes and viscosity made parts of the brown depressed carpet even darker and crustier. To the left were two closed doors; the first door had light leaking out around its poorly fitted frame, and the second was completely dark.
The gym room smelled musty and a little sweaty but nowhere near bile-inducing. However, the smell emanating from the hall threatened to steal my breakfast. Laverne and Shirley stood at the entrance to the hall, not daring to step on the carpet.
Shirley: TwatWaffle go open the first door.
OP: Sure
On tiptoe, I went to the first door, grabbed the greasy knob, turned it, and pushed. A wave of ammonia slapped me like a-pimp-named-slick-back and face fucked my nose raw dawg. I stepped back into the hall, trying to get a fresh-ish breath. But it was too late; opening the door let the full force of rank smell gush into the hall. So, instead, I pulled my shirt over my nose, which acted like a condom against the assault on my olfactory senses.
Leverne and Shirley had been watching, but when I reeled back, they both came forward to chastise me for being dramatic.
Shirley: Come on, it can’t be that… Oh hell
Leverne: Stop being a pus… Fuck me sideways.
The smell had finally wafted to them as they came forward, and they, too, pulled their shirts over their faces.
The three of us stood in the doorway, surveying the horror. A sink to the left is covered in black, something… Mold? Dust? Curiosity made me take a step forward; peering at the sink, I saw hair. Short black hairs, curly black hairs, and long strands of black hair covered the sink in a fine layer. I looked at the ground and saw that it, too, was covered in an assortment of hairs. I willed myself to look up at the mirror which hung over the sink. The mirror was so thickly speckled with white and pinkish spots that I could hardly see my face. My stomach lurched and rolled; I knew too well what those milky spots were from.
Then, I went to the porcelain throne that was once a functional toilet but had become a biohazardous receptacle some time ago. Brown sludge filled the entire bowl. Thick yellow-brown stains colored the outer rim and ran down the base, pooling at the bottom. This sight and the overpowering stench finally got me, and I wretched.
Laverne: OK! I’ll knock out the upstairs pot, Laverne, you start on the kitchen, and I’ll help you when I’m finished. TwatWaffle, get started here.
Spinless people pleasing me croaked
OP: Yeah, okay.
Laverne and Shirley quickly walked away and booked it back upstairs. I went to my cleaning caddy, opened the bottle of bleach, and inhaled deeply. The bleach burnt in my nose, but it also gave me a little relief from the putrid smells gang banging my nose. Next, I pulled on my thick rubber gloves, summoned all the willpower I possessed, and headed back to the toilet. I pushed the handle, hoping to flush the fecal McSlurry, but nothing happened. I took the top off the tank and found that the pull chain had come undone. The chain reattached, I pushed again. Water rushed into the bowl, and the liquid butt fudge began to rise. Sheer panic ripped through my heart as I contemplated having to mop old stagnant shit off the floor. The slurry came level with the rim of the bowl when suddenly I heard a glop glop. Air from the pipes escaped, and slowly, the sewage oozed down the toilet drain and away from the rim of the bowl.
One crisis averted, I decided to start on the sink while the toilet’s tank refilled. It was going to take two or three more flushes to get it all down. I began scrubbing and wiping, letting myself get lost in my own head as I performed the familiar task. After about five minutes of ferocious cleaning, a sound cut into my consciousness—a heavy sort of breathing. I looked up and caught in the mirror a form filling the doorway. I jumped and spun around to face The Thing.
I hastily babbled
OP: Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. You scared me. Hi, I’m TwatWaffle, I’m here with Local Cleaning Company. Did you need to use this bathroom? I’ll be done shortly if you can wait.
The Thing stood silently, his mass filling the doorway. A light grey shirt with dark stains under each arm struggled and failed to contain the bulk of his abdomen. I could almost hear the cries of agony from the threads of fabric that made up his tortured navy sweatpants, which were being stretched to their limit. The flesh was so abundant on his face that it rendered it almost featureless. Angry red pimples dappled the entire landscape of his skin.
OP: I can step out now, if you can’t wait.
The Thing just stood there, staring. By this time, I had huffed enough bleach that the bathroom smells were bearable. But The Thing’s body odor had Billy Cosby-ed my defenses and was having its way with my piriform cortex. As nonchalantly as possible, I brought my bleached, soaked rag up to my face, like wiping sweat from my brow, and took another whiff of bleach. We stood just staring at each other for a long, awkward minute.
OP: Okay… Well, if you need the bathroom, let me know.
I turned and went back to cleaning. I flushed the toilet for a third time. Now, the toilet water was just cloudy with sediment. I scrubbed at the left-over streaks that had crusted and clung to the bowl. A fourth and final flush had the toilet looking as good as it was ever going to look again.
I might have been looking at this disgusting commode, but all my attention was on the figure lurking in the doorway. As I got on my knees, intent on cleaning up the thick, viscous yellow puddles, I heard The Things breathing increase and then fade. I dared a glance over my shoulder; The Thing was gone.
Finished with the toilet, I turned my attention to the shower. A glance at the drain revealed that, to Ramtides's query, The Thing was a waffle stomper. Clearly, with the toilet out of commission, The Thing had been using the shower to relieve themself. Hair was also sprinkled liberally over it all.
Giving myself a little pep talk.
OP: Okay, I’m almost done. I can do this. I’m almost finis-
Then, from the doorway, a voice gurgled
The Thing: Hello M’lady.
I whip around, slightly less startled this time but twice as confused. The Thing is talking? And it changed clothes? It now wore a black shirt and cargo shorts, which fit him only slightly better than his previous attire.
OP: Hi, Do you need the bathroom now? I’m pretty much finished; just need to wipe down the shower. I fixed the toilet, so it flushes now.
The Thing: Ahh, clever and beautiful. May I know M`lady’s name?
I was a little confused, considering I told him my name about fifteen minutes ago. But then I also struggle remembering names sometimes.
OP: I’m TwatWaffle, with Local Cleaning Company.
I noticed movement over The Things' shoulder, another shape in the dim hallway. And that is when everything clicked. I remembered seeing pictures lining the upstairs hall—pictures of a Mom, Dad, and two identical cherubic little boys—twins. This then was Thing2, and I had previously met Thing1. Dear god, basement-dwelling twin neckbeards.
Thing2: TwatWaffle, a lovely name for a lovely lady. M’lady, I need your assistance; I accidentally kicked my computer mouse under my bed. Neither I nor Thing1 can reach it. Perhaps M’lady would be willing to retrieve it.
OP: I’m not supposed to do anything that’s not on our cleaning order.
Thing2: But I’m not asking you to clean anything. I’m simply requesting that you do something for me as a favor. Surely, helping your client reach something isn’t against your rules. It’ll only take you a minute.
OP: I guess not, just let me spray down the shower and then I’ll help you.
Thing2: Excellent…
Thing2 lumbered back to their room. Thing1 stood for a moment longer in the hallway, staring before waddling after its brother. I finish up the shower, gathered the trash and used cleaning wipes, and put my supplies back in the caddy. I unscrew the bleach bottle one more time and inhale the fumes before walking to the next room and entering The Things’ nest.
What hit me first this time was a sweaty, musty smell, underlined by a salty, stale smegma. Then, as I stepped forward, the unmistakable stank of rotting food came edged in, joining the bukaki of smells in my nose. This room was also narrow and long. On the right and left sides against the wall were desks, each had two large monitors. LED gamer lights were hung on the wall, but the thick layer of dust that coated everything in the room dimmed their rainbow-light pattern. The only other lighting in the room came from a narrow window set high up in the wall and the glow from the monitors.
But scant light clearly illuminated dishes, pizza boxes, cans, and assorted bottles filled with suspicious liquids that lay in heaps around the desks. Stray bits of trash were scattered everywhere else. Beneath my feet was brown-crusted flooring that might have once resembled a carpet. On the back wall were two full beds set end to end. Thing2 sat on the right bed, and Thing1 sat in a chair, staring at something on one of the monitors.
Thing2: Here M’lday, it’s under my bed.
Holding my breath, I walked forward, knelt on the hard, stiff carpet, and peered under the bed. The mouse lay right there at the edge. Surely, Thing2 could have reached that far himself? I picked it up and held the mouse out to him.
Thing2: Thank you. You’re so kind and helpful. Perhaps you can sit with me for a moment and talk. It’s so rare that I get to meet such a beautiful lady.
OP: You’re welcome, but I have to go. Shirley and Laverne are waiting for me, and we have more work to do.
I turned to walk away when I felt something I will never forget. A pudgy, soft, and clammy hand gripped my wrist. It was so soft, like a baby's hand that had been enlarged. I’d never felt someone's hand before or since that was so fleshy and uncalloused. Sometimes, as I fall asleep, I feel that hand gripping my wrist again.
I froze and looked at this monstrous beast that grasped me. His fleshy acne riddle face smirked back at me in the dimness. I heard a groan and creaking metal as Thing1 exited his chair and stood behind me. Fear now engulfed me to my bones. I had been too distracted by the disgusting state of everything to consider Thing2 might have ill intentions. Or maybe I had inhaled enough fumes from cleaning supplies to cloud my judgment.
Thing1 took a step toward us as Thing2 began pulling me towards him. I braced myself, but the floor was slick, and I slid closer to Thing2. I wanted to scream, I wanted to say something, but fear had gripped my throat as hard as Thing2 gripped my arm.
Shirley: TwattWaffle! TwatWaffle! Where the hell are you, girl?
Shirley called from the hallway. Her raspy smoker's voice sounded like an angel's call to me, and her call gave me the strength to finally speak.
OP: Shirley! I’m over here!
Thing1 plopped back into his chair, and Thing2, startled by the sound of another person, loosened his grip enough that I could yank myself free. I picked up my cleaning caddy and ran from the room as Shirley’s head peaked around the door.
Shirley: Come on, lazy girl. We’ve been done for ten minutes already. You’re making us late. I’ve told you; you've got to go faster, girl.
OP: Yes, ma’am, sorry.
Back upstairs, I shakily helped load all our cleaning things back into the van, and we left. A week later, I quit and found better employment. Before that day, I had been rather naive, but I would never allow myself to get into another situation like that again.
I know my story is short and neckbeard-light, but I hope you found some entertainment in it anyway. Reddx, if you read this, thank you! And if you don’t, thank you for the hours of entertainment you’ve given me.

I'm exhausted and burnt out, have a stomach ache and all I want to do is watch porn to medicate myself

im a vegetarian but i try to prioritise protein as i workout a lot, im picky about eggs and tofu is expensive so majority of my protein comes from yogurt. i also love cheese, i always have a different wheel of cheese in the fridge to snack on throughout the day.
however for the last month i've had a stomach ache any time i eat dairy, and today after my lunch yogurt bowl i threw up and i still have a crippling stomach ache. i called the doctor as i threw up 10~ mins after taking medication and after advising me on the meds they suggested i should stop eating dairy so much. feels like my life is over lol.
what are some good cheap lactose free protein sources? i love yogurt i have a bowl with nearly every meal what do i even eat anymore? i dont eat meat for ethical reasons and i havent in over a decade so for me thats out of the question. i love icecream. i dont like most vegan milks or cheeses because of all the added ingredients and they make me bloated :(

[Part 1] [Part 2]
Admiral Pyraxis drummed his talons on his desk. A rhythmic sound, which he found quite comforting. Arranged on his desk stood various fine wines he had procured by means of ordering mass confiscation of alcohol from the Humans.
“Sir, are you sure the local drink isn’t affecting your judgement?”
And that was the sound of Pyraxis’s greatest headache - his incessant subordinate, Krystak, who was only one rank lower than him and undoubtedly waiting for the perfect opportunity to usurp Pyraxis.
“No, Krystak, I am quite unaffected by these beverages,” he lied, “also - you’re out of line speaking to me like that.”
Krystak bowed his head in apology. Taking a glug from a bottle gripped in his right hand, he gestured for Krystak to begin his debrief.
“Well, we have seen a 6.2% increase in attacks since last month. Of those, most have been unsuccessful, but we took approximately 17,800 fatalities this month, which is an 8% increase from last month. Efforts to locate major concentrations of exiled army units have failed, however, we succeeded in raiding weapons caches on all settled continents. Counter intelligence is working diligently to root out urban resistance, but rural resistance is unfortunately going to take a lot longer than predicted to eradicate.”
“We also managed to get some industrial and mining operations going without them being immediately blown up, which is good progress.”
Pyraxis took another long gulp of wine, before standing up, “I need you to get this damned planet under control! Is that clear? Because in five local cycles, the colonisation fleet will arrive. If they get here and it’s still a warzone, we will both be replaced. I don’t care how many people you have to kill to do it. Exterminate even more if you have to. Understood?”
Krystak opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it and nodded.
“Dismissed.”
He saluted, then marched out of Pyraxis’s office.
“Fucking Humans,” he muttered to himself. At least they had some decent swear words. Staring out the window at Earth, he downed the rest of his bottle, and passed out.

“I feel I have to tell you that what you are about to embark on is a suicide mission. Not one of you is expected to come back alive. If that isn’t your cup of tea, there is no shame in backing out now.” A few people in the back surreptitiously left the hall everyone had gathered in.
After a moment, the speaker - one general Mathews - resumed his briefing.
“This attack is one of many coordinated strikes which will - if successful - cripple the enemy’s ability to fight, and may just win us the war. Of those of you gathered here, most will partake in the main attack. The target is located on the Isle of Man - specifically, the old RAF base Jurby. It has been converted into a base of operations. All you need to know is that another, smaller force, will infiltrate the base. In order to complete their objective, you will need to divert as many troops away from the north of the base as possible.”
“Jurby has been turned into a fortress - our intel says there are at least five thousand Salvad troops on the island, and of those, one thousand are located within or near Jurby. Your goal is not to beat them, but distract them. You will be granted heavy weapons - in fact, everything we have at our disposal is going into this attack.”
Robert stood in the back, leaning against the wall, observing the reactions of the men around him.
“You will have the aid of local resistance forces, but they are not to be relied upon for anything other than intel - they are not combat troops. You will deploy under the cover of night. Our numbers should double when we reach the rendezvous point at Kidsdale prior to departure - we’re calling in everyone for this. The Salvads don’t have a seaborne navy, which is important for us, since you will be landing by boat.”
This had an interesting reception - mostly of shock, a bit of scorn. Once the chatter had died down, the general continued.
“We have commandeered numerous small civilian boats. There should be enough to carry everyone over to the Island. You will land on the west coast, south of Jurby. From there, Alpha team under Johnson will advance north to Jurby, where you will attack with everything you’ve got. Use the element of surprise, draw the enemy out. Beta team under Simmons will advance to St. Judes to cut off enemy land reinforcements. Charlie team under Smith will protect your rear from attack. There can be no radio chatter on the way over - we really need the element of surprise. Once they know you’re there, try to limit comms since we have no idea if they can decrypt our signals.”
“Hold out for as long as possible. The attack is scheduled to begin at 2400 hours two days from now. Gather your equipment, and prepare for a long march to the rendezvous. I will follow you up to that point. Questions?”
Robert lost interest at that point. He shook the ache out of his legs and walked through to the gathering spot for the infiltration team. He knew a few faces. A couple of Royal Marines were present, and some exiles from mainland europe. There were eight of them total, although apparently their team was thirty strong.
Where the rest of this little suicide squad was, he had no idea.

Robert decided he really didn’t like whoever had come up with this part of the plan. They were not going with the main force, but were instead going to a different rendezvous to board a submarine. They would then ride this submarine to the Isle of Man. It would be 2 AM when they disembarked three kilometres north of Jurby. This would give the main attackers two hours to draw away the majority of the guards.
Robert did not like submarines. They would be boarding HMS Anson at HMNB Clyde. The reason this base hadn’t been destroyed by the Salvads was because out of sheer luck it was empty during the landings. They would have to be there at exactly the right time, as the sub would only wait for twenty minutes maximum, before leaving to do the mission without them.
The journey would be about eleven hours. That meant eleven hours cramped inside a submarine, underwater. Because of course they would be submerged for the whole journey. It only made sense, after all.
This was going to suck.

Admiral Pyraxis was in an irritable mood. He’d had to learn the meaning of another Earth word: drunk. Then he had to learn the meaning of hangover. Then he spent more time than necessary examining the capacities of his own liver.
He knew he was letting the drink get to him. But he was too stressed, and needed a way to relax. He was still somewhat sure that it wasn’t affecting his decision making that much.
Picking up his communicator from the floor, he punched in a code, then held it up to his head.
“Report on the project.”
“Understood. I’m coming down to inspect it.”
Putting in a different code, he once again spoke into the device, “Prepare my shuttle for departure. Destination is Immunisation Facility 3.”

Robert decided if he survived this, he would never ride a submarine again. The boarding had gone like clockwork. He now had half a day to become acquainted with the rest of the team.
One guy stood out - he was wearing a gas mask and spoke with a muffled accent. Perhaps German?
“Guten Tag, Gentlemen. My name is Corporal Müller, but you may call me Tobias - I am in charge of this operation. We will split into three teams. In the hold are three backpacks - these have the bioweapon. I would be very careful not to drop them. The strongest guy in each squad will carry one. There are three main silos. Deploy the weapon, then get out. Any questions?”
Robert raised his hand, “Yeah, what's with the mask?”
“I wear this because I am hideously deformed! Ja, I was in France, and received a large dose of radiation from the…erm…fireworks. I have about five days until I suffer critical organ failure, so I figured I would go out on my own terms - in glorious combat!”
“Oh. Right.”
“I nearly forgot! Here, you all need to take a cyanide pill with you. We cannot risk anyone being captured,” he said, taking out a tray from behind him and enthusiastically offering the pills up to everyone.
Well, that's just wonderful. Robert took one and put it in his jacket pocket.
Robert acquainted himself with the rest of the team, and found somewhere to lie down. He knew it was going to be an arduous journey.

General Mathews stood dramatically at the head of his force. The wind was strong, but the surf was calm enough to board the boats. It was dark as well. He had requested a red cape for his speech, which was billowing behind him. It would have been a more potent image if it wasn’t so dark. As it was, he could barely see to the end of the crowd gathered before him.
There was no moonlight either - the strike had been carefully planned to take place under heavy cloud coverage. And so far, their luck had held. Standing on top of some crates, with a microphone connected to a meagre sound system, he puffed up his chest.
Tapping the mic, he winced as it squealed. Slapping it a couple more times, he began to speak.
“Before me, I do not see an army. I do not see the best of the best. I do not see heroes; for the heroes died in the first attack. They died on the front lines, charging into certain death. We are the ones who remain. And you ask yourself, what can a couple of thousand men do?”
“Fighting an enemy we cannot beat, with weapons we can’t match and resources we can’t equal, not for a thousand years. What is the point? Madness!”
“We are martyrs. The heroes have fallen long ago. It falls to us to do the dirty work. We are the ones who ask for no thanks and will go forgotten by all; but do not fear! Our actions stand in place of our identities, and they will echo through the annals of history, for today we take the fight to them! Today, we charge into the jaws of death, just like our countrymen, only this time we can win!”
“You heard me right! We can win this war. Our job is simple. Fight, and die. And God willing, our comrades will complete their mission, and sentence the invader to eternity whichever hell they belong in. Today, we die. This is not a battle we can possibly survive, but we will sure as hell fight. Remember those words of Churchill, spoken so many years ago.”
“Feel the defiance of humanity coarse through your veins! Cast your thoughts to the Greeks at Thermopylae, or our forefathers at Rorke’s Drift! Pavlov’s house! Invoke the spirit of Saragarhi! Remember the Guards’ last stand at Westminster, where the road ran slick with Salvad blood!”
“For today, we cast our die for a future we will never see, and children we will never meet! We will not go quietly into that good night! Rage! Rage against the dying of the light!” The men cheered, overpowering the scream of the air and the rage of sea.
“To arms!”
Adrenaline swells in tensed muscles.
“Blood will be spilled!”
The clatter of weapons ringing in ears.
“On this day, our blood will stain the streets!”
They don’t cheer now; they roar.
“The blood of Terra will flow!”
They surge forward to the boats, a force of nature, with the defiance of a cornered beast.
“Rise, defenders of Earth! From every corner of our planet you came, and to the seas you will return! Fear no death, for death is on your side! If this is to be the dying gasp of Humanity, then let it be the greatest last stand in history!”
And as the warriors boarded their craft, general Mathews tossed away the key to his jeep, and slipped into the crowd. Which was impressive, given his rather pompous appearance.

Jacob, an absolute unit of a man - who never seemed far from getting his huge frame stuck in the doorways - yelled down the length of the compartment we were staying in.
“Captain says fifteen minutes to drop site!”
Tobias stood and said, “All right gentlemen, gather your equipment and prepare yourselves - the sea is cold this time of year.” Robert froze. “We’re not landing?” Tobias laughed, then suffered a bout of wet coughs. Recovering, he looked up, “No. The submarine will drop us off as close as possible, and we will have to wade the rest of the way. Maybe swim a little.”
This day just kept getting worse and worse.
Admiral Pyraxis was having yet another argument with Krystak when an aide came with alarming news.
“I’m sorry?”
“It's immunisation site three, sir! They’re reporting an attack on the island!”
Krystak, ever the opportunist, spoke up. “Correct me if I'm wrong, admiral, but is that not the location of project-”
Pyraxis snapped.
“I KNOW, SHUT UP!”
Taking some time to gather his thoughts, he spoke in a more reasonable tone.
“Summon the Zirrack, get them on my shuttle.” The aide looked shocked, “Y-you’re going down there?”
“Yes, now hurry up.”
Pyraxis dismissed Krystak and marched to his shuttle, seething with rage. Obviously, there was no way the Humans could know about what was hidden under the facility. It was probably just a few militants trying to sabotage operations in Europe. However, it pays to be cautious - hence Pyraxis bringing the Zirrack Crimson Brigade, his personal bodyguard.
An elite unit made up of the best Salvad troops, subjected to genetic enhancement and wearing crimson ceremonial armour - which was very much not for show.

Robert waded through the breakers, soaked all up his back with ice-cold water. The whole group panned out, advancing slowly up the beach, rifles at the ready. Robert was using a British army L85A1, along with a Glock 19 as a sidearm. They all had NVGs, although they wouldn’t be massively effective considering advanced Salvad thermal-concealing clothing.
The surf was calm, and distant rumbling of the clouds could be heard. He wished he’d worn thicker socks to protect against the biting cold of the sea. Dead quiet, they ran up the sand and into the grass. The crackling of gunfire could be heard fairly close by.
Jacob glared at a sign. “You can’t seriously expect me to believe that this place is called Cronky Bing,” he whispered. Robert squinted at the sign, and sure enough, it read: Cronk y Bing Nature Reserve.
"At least we're where we need to be," Tobias said. "Now let's get moving."
The team began a careful march through the fields, towards their target at Jurby. Deploying his night vision, Robert could see the silhouette of the Silos to be targeted, a large building that must have been the factory, and some squat structures which were most likely barracks.
The gunfire became louder the closer they got, with erratic explosions keeping Robert on edge. The flash of muzzles and bright light of Salvad plasma weapons became visible, reflecting on the clouds. Advancing to the last hedgerow before the base itself, the team’s sniper and spotter set up, easily disappearing into the bushes thanks to their ghillie suits.
“Okay, everyone split up into your teams. One target for each team. Get in, deploy it, and get out,” Tobias said. “Do not destroy the silos. Best of luck.”
Splitting up, the teams sprinted towards the border fence of the complex. No Salvads were spotted until they were halfway there, but the moment weapons were raised, the sniper took them out in quick succession. Tobias led Robert’s team up the fence, where they cut a hole with bolt cutters and crawled through. Tobias motioned to spread out, while Jacob and a couple of others moved towards their designated silo. They would have to climb the ladder to the access port at the top in order to deploy the payload.
It was just as they reached the ladder that they all heard the hum of engines approaching.

“Where the fuck is the rest of Beta team?” Johnson yelled at Simmons.
“They must have been blown off course-”
Johnson cut him off, “How do you lose half your team? You're needed at full strength!”
“Calm down! They probably just landed further south than intended. I’ll take what men I have and we’ll just have to wait for the rest to catch up.”
Johnson seethed. But eventually, he just growled and ordered his men to move out. They had gathered in the centre of a little town called The Cronk, which lay about three kilometres south of the enemy compound. Alpha team set off at a brisk pace north, while the weakened Beta team moved northeast to cut off the Salvad route of reinforcements at St. Judes - reinforcing Salvad troops would most likely come along the main road from Ramsey on the east coast, where they would meet a nasty surprise.
And Charlie team were ordered to stay right where they were, and protect from an attack in the rear.
Johnson’s force lined the hedgerows facing Jurby. He had dispatched a portion of his force to secure the church sitting on a slight incline, which used to overlook the prison before it was demolished by the Salvads. Johnson checked his watch, then gave the order. Three rocket launchers fired into the base - two hitting guard towers, and the third hitting a barracks and caving in the roof.
Alarms blared, and Salvads rushed out - many without any of their armour - and frantically tried to find out where the attack was coming from. They were met with machine gun fire from the Humans. Johnson grinned as he watched swathes of enemies get mowed down. Hefting a grenade launcher, he began to help blow them to pieces. Gunfire at the church suggested that the squad sent there had encountered resistance.
His eyes bulged when a Salvad in the complex levelled the church with an anti-tank weapon.
That guy didn’t stay alive for long, as the marksmen among Alpha team exacted revenge. Once the shock of their attack began to wear off, deadly accurate return fire began to rain on them, plasma tearing through their superficial cover.
The real battle had started.

Meanwhile, Beta team managed to sneak unnoticed all the way to St Judes, where they laid their trap - landmines, hidden gun emplacements, the whole deal. Kicking in doors, they took up positions in windows and on roofs. Snipers spread out outside the village in the fields, ready to pick off any reinforcements.
It didn't take long for the call for help to reach Ramsey. It took even less time for the armoured response to come driving up the road.

Admiral Pyraxis gazed out his shuttle window at the storm clouds they were headed into. The power of nature on this planet was truly staggering to him. Of course he had seen storms back home, but those were gusts of wind compared to the thunderstorms here on Earth.
He felt the turbulence as his shuttle descended into the clouds, and part of him became nervous, just for a moment. He soon chastised himself; there was nothing to fear down there. So why did his gut tell him otherwise?
The shuttle smoothly landed at the Immunisation facility, where Pyraxis and his guard disembarked, only to be greeted with deafening gunfire far too close for comfort. As they walked away from the ship, it suddenly got hit with several successive blasts, tearing it apart. Pyraxis dove to the ground, shell shocked. Gathering himself, he screamed at the Zirrack, “Half of you, deal with those humans! Kill them all! The rest of you, with me.”
They silently obeyed, moving towards the sound of fighting. Pyraxis stormed into the facility's command centre, enraged. Barging into the control room, he searched for the base commander. Seeing him, the commander saluted, then - rather pointlessly - said “Sir! The base is under attack!”
Pyraxis glared at him. “I know. All the explosions gave it away.”“What should we do?” the commander stammered.
“What should- what are you, stupid? Deploy the garrison!”
The trembling commander blabbered his apology and scurried away.
Turning to the nearest worker, he ordered them to call in all the troops on the island. It was at this point that Pyraxis may have completely snapped. This is because a private burst into the room, and said, “Hostiles have breached the northern border!”
Suffice it to say, Pyraxis was not happy. Once he was done screaming at his subordinates, he ordered the inoculations extracted immediately to prevent their destruction.
Brandishing his pistol, he stormed out of the command centre with his guards. “Find the saboteurs. Prevent them from damaging anything.”

Robert never thought he would see a man physically tear a Salvad apart with his bare hands, but that is precisely what Jacob did. The victim was running towards the sounds of fighting, when Jacob jumped him from the side and went berserk. Robert stared with morbid fascination.
Moving through the compound, they easily overcame the few guards who stumbled upon them in quick fashion. Reaching the silo, Jacob and two other men began the climb up the ladder while the others secured the area.
“Contact, front! Multiple-”
A scream cut through the air as the speaker was blasted apart by plasma fire. Robert dove for cover, catching a glimpse of some red-clothed figures.
“Who the fuck are these clowns?” he yelled to Tobias, who shrugged from behind the crate he was using as cover.
Peaking around the corner of a wall, Robert saw who they were dealing with.
At least five. More?
He fired a burst at one, and swore upon seeing the rounds deflect harmlessly off of their armour. He motioned to Tobias to provide covering fire. Counting down with his fingers, he nodded at Tobias, and sprinted back through the facility. A couple of stray rounds flew near him as he ran. Finally, he saw what he needed.
A dead guard. And importantly, his weapon. It was worth seeing if it would have an effect. Running back to the fight with his newly liberated weapon, he hid at the edge of one of the barracks. From there, Robert saw Tobais loading an RPG. Quickly and efficiently, Tobias readied the weapon, and peaked round the corner.
Firing, he hit one of the red bastards point blank. It was not pretty - burning flesh and scraps of armour flew in all directions. The others did not like that, and began advancing, spraying fire at anything that moved, resulting in another guy’s head getting blown apart. Robert anxiously watched the group climbing the silo - they were about to be spotted. Pressing every button on the Salvad rifle until it seemed to work, he took a deep breath, and fired at the fancy dress fucks (as he had decided to name them). The first few hits did not penetrate their armour, but with several successive hits parts of the plate began to melt. So, it worked. They immediately returned fire, forcing Robert to duck back behind his corner.
He eyed the wall with fear as it began to melt under the pressure of enemy weaponry, and took a few steps back. He could still see the guys scaling the silo. They were just about to reach the top. Just a little further…
One of the Salvads saw them. It aimed its weapon up, and shot the man behind Jacob. He went tumbling down to the ground, the sickening splat of the impact echoing throughout the facility.
Gritting his teeth, Robert once again peeked from his cover to provide covering fire and distract the Salvads. As he ducked once more, a Salvad shot missed his head by a hair’s width, melting through the wall behind him.
He held his breath, watching Jacob pull himself and the payload up the last few rungs of the ladder. Enemy fire began to rain on them.
Come on…come on!
Just as it looked like Jacob would be hit, he pulled himself over the side and out of the enemy line of sight.

“Fuck! We need support over here!”
Johnson’s men had been repelled and were being forced back in the centre, with their hard-won position at the church’s ruins under threat of encirclement. Casualties were unknown, but high.
“It always sounds better in a speech.” Johnson muttered, “Oh, glory, saving humanity. I don’t see the general out here dying with us-”
Just then, he glanced over at the smouldering church, and saw a ridiculous looking figure, who appeared to be wearing some sort of cape...
“Oh, fuck me.”
He watched, dumbfounded, as general Mathews engaged Salvad troops in hand to hand combat with his bayonet. The fight was obscured by smoke as the general dramatically executed a downed Salvad. If a middle aged man with a bad back and a tendency to favour tea and biscuits over any kind of physical exertion could do that... what was Johnson waiting for?

Beta team was initially successful, destroying or disabling several armoured vehicles as they entered St. Judes in a single file convoy. However, the convoy recovered quickly, deploying their troops and demolishing every building in the town. The vehicles fanned out into the fields, where several more fell to landmines, but the rest were able to provide deadly fire support.
The members of Beta team who had landed too far south caught up only as the fighting began, and found themselves out of position and disorganised, with many fleeing in all directions and any semblance of order evaporating. Having levelled St. Judes, the armoured convoy resumed the drive to Jurby, albeit with significantly more caution.
Beta team radioed all other teams, alerting them of the breakthrough.
Charlie team was effectively holding back Salvad reinforcements in the south, having dug in at the Cronk and Ballaugh. Smith ordered guerrillas further inland to sabotage the Salvad communication array, and succeeded before anyone was the wiser. Salvad armoured columns from Peel lay burning, dotted across the landscape.
This favourable state of affairs only lasted until enemy air support arrived.
It was a slaughter.

“Can we get more men from Charlie team?” Johnson radioed, only to have his spirits sunk as the news came through.
Charlie team had been destroyed by enemy air strikes. Soon after, Simmons radioed to say that Beta team had been smashed, and were retreating.
Johnson’s heart sank. He probably had less than half his own men left, and enemies were closing in on all sides. He sincerely hoped that the mission had been successful.

Jacob yanked open the hatch to the silo, and deployed the payload without further thought, holding his breath as he did so. Tying a rope from his pack to a rail, he repelled down the side of the silo as quickly as possible, immediately taking cover. His comrade was not so lucky, getting shot on his way down. Jacob sprinted to find the others, cursing as a shot grazed his side, sending him sprawling on the ground.

Vice admiral Krystak had a solemn look on his face. Before him were the rest of the Salvad high command, all recalled for an emergency meeting.
“It seems our leader has gotten himself in quite some trouble. We have no communications, and satellite imaging is obscured by the storm. We have no idea the scale of the attack on Immunisation site three, or the status of Admiral Pyraxis. We must consider him compromised. Would you agree?”
Carefully neutral expressions and subtle nods all around.
Perfect.
“In these exceptional circumstances, we must take precautions. It is stipulated that the Vice Admiral must assume the position of Admiral in such circumstances. Agreed?”Careful nods all around. Nobody spoke up.
“As such, does the council agree to grant me the title of Admiral and the powers that come with it, in order to rectify the situation?”
They all looked at each other. Then, one by one, nodded in agreement.
“Then let us make haste. I presume you are all aware of Pyraxis’s little project buried under the facility. The research there must not be discovered by the Humans. As such, I move to allow the retrieval of all usable material from the facility, and to order the subsequent destruction of the facility to prevent a security breach. All in favour?”
The Salvad’s gathered looked weary, but soon crumbled under peer pressure.
All agreed. A rational decision, given the information available. They all knew it was a thinly veiled coup, and none wanted to put a target on themselves.
Krystak, now the Admiral and commander of all Salvad operations in Sol, growled softly as he revelled in his victory.
The foresight of the ambitious is often lacking.

Robert watched as the cargo haulers flew in, barely stopping as they lifted the entire silos, and then flying away at top speed. A few half-hearted pot shots were taken at them to reinforce the notion that the Salvads had foiled the dastardly human plan.
It had been a close thing. They hadn’t expected the Salvads to order an accelerated extraction. Robert now hid inside one of the barracks with a couple of others, including Tobias - who was methodically taping a claymore to his chest.
He stopped what he was doing when he heard a clatter somewhere far off, followed by the sound of footsteps.
Robert held his breath. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he tensed, ready to run.
He could hear their chatter. By the sound of their movements, they had panned out and were searching every nook and cranny.
Gripping his rifle with white knuckles, he waited for the nearest footsteps to near even more, before charging out of cover. Firing his stolen weapon in a continuous burst into the Salvad’s face, forcing him back. The plasma melted the faceplate, and boiled the Salvad inside - evidenced by its' screaming.
Hunched over to avoid the fire of the other Salvads, Robert sprinted to the body and extracted a knife from one of its pockets. The knife had an ornate design, and a thin glowing red rim along the edge. The balance felt completely off.
Diving behind a toppled bunk, Robert tried to make himself as small as possible. A stray enemy shot scorched the side of his abdomen, the intense heat instantly cauterising the wound. A few centimetres to the right, and he would be trying to stop his organs from falling out.
“Fuck!”
A small chunk of flesh had been carved away by the shot, and he screamed as his fried nerve endings made their displeasure known.
“Bitch!”
He half ran, half stumbled through the barracks, crashing through the first doorway he saw. On the other side was a slope, heading down into a lower level. With the sound of fighting, he saw no choice but to go further down. It looked like a laboratory of some sort, with pristine white walls and ceilings. Robert wandered into a vast chamber, where human bodies lay on operating tables in various states of dissection, with more suspended in vats filled with a sickly green liquid. Pausing to take this all in, Robert promptly vomited, and ran in another direction.He was determined to get out of that awful place as soon as possible. Hearing footsteps behind him, he threw himself onto the floor behind a cabinet to hide. Stolen gun at the ready, he strained his ears for any sign of the enemy.He didn’t have to wait long. Striding into the room, three of the red-clothed-pricks fanned out. Sneaking a look, he saw one of them wasn’t wearing a helmet - sign of a comically arrogant superior officer. They were speaking.
The officer sounded angry.
Taking his chance, he peaked his weapon around the cabinet, and nailed one of the soldiers in the head. He crumpled to the floor instantly. The other one, not missing a beat, spun and fired at Robert, forcing him to cower behind the rapidly melting cabinet.
Crawling to the other end, he peaked again, and was able to shoot the soldier’s weapon, disabling it. Unfortunately for Robert, his bad luck once more reared it’s ugly head, and the Salvad rifle stopped working.
Out of charge?
Casting the spent weapon aside, he charged the Red Salvad. *Where's the officer?*All too late, he realised his mistake. As he body-slammed the Salvad, the officer appeared from behind a wall, pistol raised. Robert’s “borrowed” Salvad knife found its way into his grip, and the glowing edge of the blade burrowed through the Salvad’s armour. Robert twisted it into the Salvad’s neck, severing the spine, and shoving the now-deceased body to the ground.
This left him facing off with the officer. Perhaps Robert had seen too many films, as he expected some kind of evil speech. Instead, the officer shot him, and he fell down.
He entered a world of pain, body convulsing on the floor. The once-pristine tiles were rapidly changing colour around him. It felt like some of him was missing. Taking a look at the damage, he wished he hadn’t. His brain sort of stopped working at this point, overwhelmed and high on adrenaline.
Robert fumbled for his Cyanide pill as the Salvad strolled over.
In the corner of his eye, he saw a shape appear at the door in the back. A human, covered with burns and scorched flesh underneath torn uniform. A distinctive gas mask adorned his face. The individual raised a pistol with shaking arms, and fired.
A single bullet hit the Salvad in the neck, spewing a fountain of blood in front of him. The Slavad cried out, and fell flat on his face.
Tobias limped over and kneeled beside Robert.
“Hey, I got you. Look at me. I got you.” he said, panting.
“And here I was, thinking… you were dead, Toby.”
“Heh, I very nearly was. Those freaks had a flamethrower! Here, let me help you up.”
Grunting, Tobias lifted Robert by the arm, supporting his weight. After a bit of rearranging themselves, the two limped their way back into the barracks. Bodies lay strewn everywhere, and the building was on fire and filling with smoke.
Kicking down the door to the outside, they stumbled out into the fresh sea air. The sound of battle could still be heard far off, though they paid it no heed. Stumbling away from the base, the pair made the short journey to the beach.
Robert lay down, and Tobias kneeled beside him. “What time do you think it is?” asked Robert. The Sun was just beginning to rise, with a few rays penetrating the morning sky. The storm had cleared, replaced wth a hesitant blue.
“Not a clue,” Tobias wheezed. The waves were breaking mere metres away from their feet, lapping at the shore and blissfully uncaring of the violence occurring inland.
“Just hold on a little longer. I think we’ll get to see a sunrise, of a sort.” said Robert. His gaze was fixed at a point just above the horizon. From that little point, a speck of light was rapidly growing, heading right for them.
They joined hands, clasping each other in a tight grip.
Here, the man who fought out of spite lay. Next to him, the man who fought out of habit. Both were terrified of dying. Both were now too tired to care. Bleeding and hurting, they finally rested. Their war, at least, was over.
Jacob had died just a few minutes earlier, in the fight in the barracks.
Pyraxis did not die when he was shot in the neck, as the bullet missed his airpipe. He stumbled out a different exit, only to see the sky brighten. Ironically, the killing blow was dealt by his own people. This irony was not lost on him.
The entire island was destroyed, every living thing perishing under orbital bombardment, leaving a crater and no evidence of the deeds done there, heroic or cowardly.
Save for its legacy, in the form of plague the likes of which the Salvad’s had never witnessed.
Author’s note:
I think this may be some of my best work yet. I put a lot of effort into the concepts and -especially- detailing the attack, which I’m quite proud of. It was a bit slower than I wanted getting this one done due to external factors, but I managed it in the end. Given how long it’s ended up, perhaps I should have split it up more, but oh well. I’d like to say thank you to anyone and everyone who took an interest in this little series - the support means a lot to me. If you read this far, thank you.

I decided to quit drinking two weeks ago. To some people I’m calling it “sober summer”. To myself, my partner & my therapist I know that it might need to become my new normal, and is me beginning to heal from a bad pattern.
If I’m being honest, I think drinking has played a negative role in my life since I was 22 (I’m 28 now). Only in the past few months have I had enough courage to start making changes.
The second week has been hard. I’ve been on vacation with my family on a lake house. Everyone was drinking beer and wine and margaritas, and normally I would be too.
I think I’ve struggled with giving myself grace. I’d describe my drinking habits as bad, but high-functioning. When I stopped, it’s the routine I miss more than I had a physical detox. Because my addiction (bc I do think it is that) isn’t really “extreme” I feel it’s hard to give myself the space, rest, and understanding to properly transition. As if my “level” of addiction isn’t bad enough to deserve self-compassion.
I’m struggling now with how much not drinking makes me just sit in my emotions. As I process changes in my family, watching parents get oldeendure health issues, and seeing my siblings catapult into parenthood—I can’t lean into the strong IPA’s I’d usually put back, or down glasses of wine to get through rough moments, or make the “dull” moments seem fun (which I think now are just normal moments).
I find it painful to be nostalgic of times when things were euphoric, boozey, and before everything had caught up to the place I’m in now. When my siblings, friends and I all just operated on a different frequency of youth & with few responsibilities. I don’t know why reflecting on good memories has always felt more painful than sweet. I think it has something to do with me not fully loving who I am today, and missing an old version of myself.
But, to the flip side of things: I have been sleeping well and able to wake up and immediately be out of bed within 3 minutes, no headache, no body ache, no stomach pain or nausea.
The anxiety and guilt that is normally associated with drinking isn’t here! Which is typically extreme for me. I have a good amount of mental space freed up from what previously was a fixation: when am I allowed to have my first drink of the day? Will I be the only one drinking? Can I sneak a little more wine in my glass without others noticing?
My work is stressful, so returning next Monday gives me anxiety—but I can take solace knowing I won’t pound 4 beers at the airport/on the plane Sunday night on the way home, making my Monday so much worse.
My self image is slowly changing for the better. I’m noticing very small changes to my skin and body that I like. I’m finding time to focus on things that excite me and have goals that feel achievable in the near and midterm future.
And while this week has been hard, I’m also incredibly proud of myself. I just have to learn to give myself credit: this is a hard thing! And doing hard things is worth being proud of. I have another trip and wedding to attend later in the year coming up and I feel more equipped to bring sobriety into them.
I appreciate this sub so much and am grateful to have a space of likeminded people in which to share this. I will definitely share more updates (hopefully) in months to come. Thanks ya’ll.

Hi all. Been struggling with costo on and off for a few years but recently have had a flare up since early may. Been to the ER maybe 3 or 4 times in the last few years & have always had x-rays, ecgs, blood works (all on heart & lungs) every time & they’ve always come back fine. Four scans of the heart & lungs, & my doctor said it’s incredibly unlikely for me to have any problem there since I’m very young & do not have any symptoms outside of general costo symptoms. The last month I have been get a tight breathless feeling in my chest at the bottom of the sternum that sometimes radiates upwards. It comes & goes, & I get plenty of other costo symptoms that have been listed here by other costo havers (shoulder aches, radiating pain through shoulder blades, tingling & aching in arm as well as sharp pains in chest, mostly on upper area above the breasts & below). I don’t know if the tightness is due to costo or is made worse by the fact that I have anxiety / severe health anxiety as well & always worry over the pain being heart related whenever it comes back. I tend to hunch over quite a lot since I draw & have been doing a lot of stretches & posture correcting that seem to help but it has been really bothering me as of late (lots of clicking when exercising though which I heard is a good thing here lol?). I have been trying liquid ibuprofen also but it does not always help (I cannot swallow proper tablets).
However I have been wondering for a while if one thing is making my costo worse. Every morning and evening since I was diagnosed with costo by my GP I have to do a peak flow test which of course means I have to breathe in and out very deeply / wheeze multiple times (they want to test me for asthma due to the chest tightness but I have never had problems with tightness or that restriction until I had the costo flare up), & I don’t have other symptoms of asthma & I’m sure I don’t have it since my husband does & if I had it I think I’d know lol, & another doctor said it is very possible for costo flares to last months sometimes so it might just be costo being aggravated. I want to know if the breathless & tightness is normal with costo & if it’s possible that the peak flow meter / daily having to wheeze into it is making my costo worse or aggravating it though since I don’t know much about costo despite getting it frequently? I have been noticing that my costo ALWAYS seems to be worse on days when I do the peak flow since I skip it sometimes & on days when I don’t do it, my costo isn’t as bad. Do you think I should stop doing it & explain this to my doctor when I next see them? Or is it maybe a problem with my shoulder muscles being poor & pulling on my chest muscles causing the tightness & upper chest & shoulder pains? I will keep up with the daily stretches & posture correcting of course since that seems to make the tightness lessen but I just have so many questions about this / am always wondering (not sure if that’s just the anxiety as well though or not knowing is making it worse). Thank you so much, kind regards. Hope you all have a lovely day!

Hey there. I got diagnosed last month and done with my 1st cycle (1 more left), i have a sequence of symptoms now, 2 days post chemo i have mouth ulcers for 3 days. Then 3 days of body pain , last and worse abdominal pain, intense stomach pain, seems maybe gas?It’s sharp and makes me want to curl up in a ball. I’m assuming it has to do with the bacteria in my stomach and the chemo killing a lot of the good bacteria thus making digestion rough and a ton of access gas but I’m wondering what can be done for this. My CT scan, endoscopy, xray and blood reports rule out everything pathologically and docs say it’ll eventually go away. But still the pain is real, any suggestions?

Hey there. I got diagnosed last month and done with my 1st cycle (1 more left), i have a sequence of symptoms now, 2 days post chemo i have mouth ulcers for 3 days. Then 3 days of body pain , last and worse abdominal pain, intense stomach pain, seems maybe gas?It’s sharp and makes me want to curl up in a ball. I’m assuming it has to do with the bacteria in my stomach and the chemo killing a lot of the good bacteria thus making digestion rough and a ton of access gas but I’m wondering what can be done for this. My CT scan, endoscopy, xray and blood reports rule out everything pathologically and docs say it’ll eventually go away. But still the pain is real, any suggestions?

Yesterday at 7am I checked into the day surgery center at my hospital my surgery was scheduled at 9am. My surgeon had another patient before me and may god bless this patient, his surgery had complications and it scared me when I saw an empty bed come back to where we were discharged from. I heard the nurses talking there was complications and my surgeon was still in surgery. By 12pm I was finally going into the OR for my surgery. I mentally prepared myself for it. I was freaking out before and soo scared to do the surgery but I watched the procedure done on YouTube and that helped me because I knew what was going to happen. By like 10am I asked my nurse if I could have something for anxiety and she said no we need you coherent and not loopy. So I didn't get anything. My husband stayed with me waiting the whole time and that helped alot. We did start to worry watching the time and that empty bed come back. The patient wasn't coming back. That patient was in surgery for 4 hours. That patient was staying for a while.
I am allergic to alot of Antibiotics so my anesthesiologist couldn't figure out what to give me through IV. She said if you have a reaction you're in the best place possible. She gave me pepcid because I have severe reflux, she gave me benadryl before everything else. They took me to OR, I was still calm and when I got to OR I started to get nervous and anxious then she put the oxygen mask on me and I guess the benadryl knocked me out because I don't remember anything after that.
The next thing I know is I'm waking up in recovery, the nurse was saying you should get some rest I said ok but every 10 minutes I was waking up with every little sound. I told her I am a very light sleeper. She said in 20 minutes we will take you to recovery where your husband can pick you up. I said ok. My surgeon called my husband and told him how the surgery went and told him I had two big stones. But that's all he said to him. Then as soon as I got to recovery (original place i was) my husband showed up. Then they let me go 5 minutes later . They said my surgery was an hour. I don't know how long I was in recovery sleeping from the medication they gave me. I moved my own self onto the OR table. I have no idea how I got back on the hospital bed!
I remember asking the recovery nurse alot of questions but I don't remember what they were. I asked if it was complicated she said no, I asked if there were stones she said you have to talk to your surgeon, I don't remember what other questions I asked. Benadryl makes me sooo tired!
So I went to OR at 12:12pm, and went home a 2:30pm. I had 2 large stones and that's all my surgery told my husband. I never saw my surgeon again after that.
I was very tired and loopy coming home. I have pain, i am a light sleeper so I was waking up every hour and just going to sleep waking up. My surgeon sent me home with Norco pain med. I had pain when I was in the recovery area waking up my ribs hurt! I asked the nurse if I could have pain meds she said no because you have allergies and I said only to antibiotics. She wasn't going to give me anything. She finally did. I don't remewhat. Then my discharge nurse I think gave me more before I left.
The most pain I feel is in my right shoulder and in my right ribs and no one said it would be hard for you to breath after because when you breath in you get a very sharp pain in your right ribs BUT you have to take deep breaths to prevent lung collapse and pneumonia. That's been very challenging. When I sit up or get up it feels like my stomach is not there anymore. It's so sore. The worst pain is breathing in and the shoulder pain. Just lay in bed the first day and rest. Day 2 walking. Nurse did say liquid diet 1st day little food the next and low fat for a while until the body can get use to digesting without a gallbladder.
Cheers to a long journey without the gallbladder. I hope it's easy.
Heating pad a must. A thick pillow over the belly a must. Pain meds too. That's all I've been doing.

Hey there. I got diagnosed last month and done with my 1st cycle (1 more left), i have a sequence of symptoms now, 2 days post chemo i have mouth ulcers for 3 days. Then 3 days of body pain , last and worse abdominal pain, intense stomach pain, seems maybe gas?It’s sharp and makes me want to curl up in a ball. I’m assuming it has to do with the bacteria in my stomach and the chemo killing a lot of the good bacteria thus making digestion rough and a ton of access gas but I’m wondering what can be done for this. My CT scan, endoscopy, xray and blood reports rule out everything pathologically and docs say it’ll eventually go away. But still the pain is real, any suggestions?

I wanted to share my story to add another data point here since I've learned so much valuable information on this subreddit. Happy to answer any questions, although I'm not an expert.
Bio: I'm a late 20's white male living in the United States. I've had a "sensitive stomach" for as long as I can remember, but this usually manifested as intermittent severe constipation and stomach aches. I tried every possible diet (low fodmap, keto, anti inflammatory, gluten/dairy elimination etc.) for several weeks at a time, work out regularly, and eat relatively healthy but nothing ever helped. Doctors typically dismissed this as not enough fiber or "IBS" when I brought it up and I just learned to live with it.
Change in Symptoms: About two years ago around spring 2022, my constipation suddenly went away and was replaced by frequent bowel movements along with a host of other symptoms:

• Frequent (multiple times per day) and urgent bowel movements.
• Bowel movements were almost always loose and "messy", not always full on diarrhea but that wasn't infrequent.
• Noticed a lot of indigestion and what I can best describe as bowel movements that were greasy, sticky, yellowish, acidic/painful, and high volume
• A different type of stomach discomfort as compared to constipation that on the worst days were in conjunction with nausea, intense bloating, and light headedness. I did not have a noticeable increase in gassiness though.
• A general feeling of discomfort and "queasiness" along with some anxiety, which I think was somewhat of a feedback loop.
• Abdominal spasms and discomfort, usually in the lower right quadrant of my abdomen that at it's worst made me feel like the entire right side of my abdomen was cramping and tight

These symptoms persisted and didn't really go away over the last two years. There were a few weeks here and there where I would experience some minor constipation and the symptoms would die down, but they always came back. There would also be some days where things were "generally calm" and I would feel like maybe things were improving, but for the most part something always felt wrong and the symptoms always came back.
Possible Causes: When the symptoms started up, I tried to think about what might be causing the sudden change. There were a few things that stood out, but I don't really know if or how much they were related:

• Around the same time as the symptoms started I had a sports injury that messed up my right knee and hip flexopsoas. I was taking a lot of NSAIDs (Ibuprofen and Tylenol) to deal with inflammation and pain. A lot of the abdominal discomfort was related to this and physical therapy did alleviate some, but not all of the discomfort in my abdomen. When the abdominal discomfort was at it's worst, my primary care doctor had me do a CT scan which found no issues. I still have some persistent issues with my knee and hip. I didn't pursue a ton of medical assistance for the GI symptoms because I was focused on addressing the sports injury.
• I was having some issues with my relationship/long term partner which was causing some extra mental stress around that time
• I did officially get COVID twice, once about a year before the symptoms started and once about three months after the symptoms started.
• A few months before the symptoms started I think I got food poisoning or some sort of other stomach bug while on a vacation leading to a day of diarrhea and general stomach discomfort that quickly resolved.

What I Tried: Initially when the symptoms started, I tried a variety of dietary and lifestyle changes, including:

• Low fodmap diet for approximately a month - no change in symptoms
• Reduced/No gluten - minor improvement in the amount of "flare ups" of symptoms, but symptoms would always come back
• Reduced/No processed sugar - no improvement in GI symptoms, but obviously did feel better physically/mentally
• Reduced/No alcohol - no change, alcohol was a wildcard and would sometimes make me constipated for a few days and sometimes make symptoms worse.
• Whole food diet - no change in GI symptoms, but did feel better physically
• Fermented Foods - my diet has always been pretty varied, generally healthy, and incorporated fermented foods, but I tried to increase the amount of sauerkraut, kefir, yogurt, kombucha, etc. that i consumed. No noticeable change or effect.
• Increased exercise and yoga - I've always worked out and done yoga, but I really tried to focus on being as consistent and mindful as possible. No change to GI symptoms, but did feel better physically
• Mindfulness/Reading - I tried being extra mindful about my symptoms and general wellbeing. I journaled much more frequently and read the following books: Unwinding Anxiety, The Body Keeps the Score, ad The Mind Body Prescription. No real change in GI symptoms, but definitely insightful books.
• Time restricted eating/intermittent fasting - This was the only thing that had a noticeable positive effect on my symptoms. It didn't eliminate them, but made them more manageable and reduced the frequency and longevity of "flare ups". I was following a 16:8 eating window, with the occasional longer 20 hour fast.

Microbiome Test and Probiotics
When the symptoms first started, I tried a couple of off the shelf combined probiotics which all had no noticeable effect. At the end of 2023, about 18 months after symptoms started, I did a Thorne Microbiome Stool Test. I can provide my full results if anyone's interested, but the main standouts were a high dysbiosis score and a high fungal score. There were quite a few overgrowths of "bad bacteria", namely R. Gnavus, Staphylococcus + Staph A. and Streptococcus. My inflammation, permeability, and digestion scores were considered healthy though. I don't really know how valuable this test is or the scores accuracy, and I did it more out of my own curiosity than an expectation that it would provide super valuable information.
Based on the results of the Thorne test and some minor research into studies on probiotics, I tried the following two probiotics

• I found a study (https://www.thelancet.com/journals/lanmic/article/PIIS2666-5247(22)00322-6/fulltext) that showed B. Subtilis probiotic supplementation could reduce Staph. Aureus. I took a one month course of a B. Subtilis (DE111, not the strain cited in the study as I couldn't find it) probiotic. I didn't notice any negative effects. There was an initial improvement in my symptoms for the first two weeks, but after that symptoms returned.
• I found a study (https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4125647/) that showed S. Boullardii had positive effects on reducing acute diarrhea. I took another one month course of this, and didn't notice any negative effects. Similarly there was about a week where symptoms were seemingly improving, but they returned afterwards.
• I was also reading a lot about prebiotics, and tried a course of GOS prebiotics. Again, no negative effects noticed, but there were also no improvements in symptoms noticed with this.

What Finally Worked
I had brought up these concerns with my normal PCP at one of my appointments for the sports injury, and while he acknowledged them as a concern he wanted me to follow a more typical approach of lifestyle changes (already done) before a typical gastroenterologist referral. Like I said I was more focused on the sports injury at the time, and my PCP ended up moving out of state so I stopped pursuing that avenue.
After trying and failing to deal with it myself or just live with it for just under two years, I spent a considerable amount of time looking for a gastroenterologist who might be able to offer some more insight. I had obviously read a lot about SIBO (assumed hydrogen dominant) and and various other GI conditions that might be causing my symptoms, so looked for someone who was versed in these conditions and not just a typical gastro or primary care doctor. After a lot of searching, I found a Naturopathic MD who specialized in gastroenterology in my city.
He was/is absolutely amazing - we talked about all my symptoms in detail for almost an hour, and he explained a variety of possible causes and treatment approaches. He ordered the following labs/tests:

• Lactulose SIBO Breath Test - This test came back positive for hydrogen dominant SIBO. I can share the detailed results if anyone's curious, but I believe I was over 100 ppm within the first 90 minutes.
• Blood tests - I can lookup all the blood tests ordered if anyone's curious (there were quite a few), but the two which came back positive were for Candida, specifically Candida Albicans IgA antibodies. As I understand from his explanation, IgA antibodies in particular are elevated when there's an overgrowth of Candida affecting mucus membranes, either intestinal or oral/sinus. I hadn't really connected this before, but during the last two years I was experiencing more frequent "head colds" and sinus/sore throat issues that were minor but prevalent.

Based on the results, Hydrogen Dominant SIBO and Candida Overgrowth, my doctor has me on the following:

• For SIBO, he has me taking Paragard by Integrative Therapeutics (2 pills, three times a day). I've been taking this for about a month and a half now. He actually had me start taking this as soon as my lab work and breath test was completed, and the improvement in my symptoms was almost instant. Within two or three days I was back to having fairly normal bowel movements, and except for three flareups over the last month and a half, the majority of my symptoms have been alleviated.
• For SIBO, if the Paragard seems to stop working and symptoms come back, his next step for me will be to take a course of Rifaximin. So far because my symptoms have shown such a high level of improvement we have not moved to this option.
• For Intestinal Candida, he has me taking Nystatin tablets (2 pills, three times a day). There was a long delay in my pharmacy getting this in stock so I've only been taking it for about a week, but I haven't noticed any negative effects and no/very reduced symptoms have continued.
• For any potential oral/sinus Candida, he has me using a nasal spray (NutriBiotic Professional) a few times a day. Because I didn't really notice any major symptoms that would suggest a candida overgrowth in my sinuses or mouth he's not as concerned about this, but wanted to cover all avenues.

I've talked about a variety of theories with my doctor about why or how these two conditions started. He has said there are a variety of further avenues that we can pursue if symptoms come back, but as long as this improvement continues and stays then he wants to hold off on further more invasive tests and treatments. He wants me to eat a "generally healthy" diet, but isn't super concerned with me following a strict diet as long as my symptoms are improving.
I've got a lot of notes written down though so if anyone has any questions feel free to ask and I'll try to answer.

TL DR on the bottom
For some backstory:
I have problems with anxiety and other things and am in therapy for it now
I did have some trouble eating my first year of uni, but it was mostly because I had zero time and I was worried about wasting money, and I felt like not spending money on food was one of the few things that I could control for that. Plus it was the first time I lived alone so I dealt with that
Now I'm studying for my last exam (Due to health reasons I was slowed down and took longer than I should have), and am staying with my mother since my uni is far away and I'm not paying rent for a single course)
After an healthscare my mom stayed with my sister for a couple of months due to hospitals being better in her city, they both came where me and my mother live about a week ago, and it's been a lot on me. I'm already stressed studying, and I actually felt really good and even made some progress for my mental health but now that they came back I think they're taking out the stress from the healthscare on me by berating me in various ways, but something they both complain about ùmy cooking and eating habits
My mother is on a diet because of her health and my sister is always on a diet to lose weight (As in she talks shit about eating noramal rice, she drinks room temperature water and she uses no seasoning whatsoever, not even salt), they've both been critisizing me for what and how I cook and eat (like shouting at me becuase I made egg friend rice and saying that it will make me even fatter than I am now, or using onions)
I think that it's just to take it out on me because even when they're wrong they'll change what they'll complain about mid sentence (like, they berated me for eating too much pasta at launch, but when someone else pointed out that it's the same amount of pasta they said I should eat and it looked big because there were lentils in it they started saying that there were too many lentils)
I hate how they cook because they mostly steam the shit out of everything and refuse to put any oil, salt, or anything on it, plus I've been eating so little that sometimes my stomach still growls after I'm done (and to be honest ever since I started eating with them I've been shitting liquid for some reason which doesn't seem great) but I avoid asking for more or to avoid getting berated more and just go back to my room to study
I've been trying to effectively avoid them and grey rock as much as passible because to be honest I don't have time to feel bad and have to study right now, and that includes skipping meals just so I don't have to stay in the same room as them, but lately I've been having some really negative tought about myself that I haven't had in a while, including actually sorta liking the way being hungry until it hurts makes me feel and thinking that at least if I don't eat I'll get thinner which is what they keep saying I should do
I'll talk to my therapist on monday about this since it might be compounding with some other stuff but I guess that I'm asking how to deal with this so it doesn't get in the way of my exams and deosn't risk spiraling in to something worse?
TL DR
I have trouble with anxiety, right now I'm living with my mom to complete my last uni exam
My mom went to live with my sister for a couple of months for health reasons, now they both came back at my mom's place and I think they're taking out their stress on me since they berate me more than usual and in particular they keep complaining about the way I cook and eat
Since I ahve to study and don't even the time to feel bad about how they make me feel I've been avoiding them as much as I can, including straight up skipping meals so I can avoid both being around them and take the risk of making a mistake by eating bread or something and being berated for it
I'll talk to my therapist on monday about this since it might be compounding with some other stuff but I guess that I'm asking how to deal with this so it doesn't get in the way of my exams and deosn't risk spiraling in to something worse?

Hi, this story was deleted because I was told it was incomplete. I would love any help on how to fix that. This is a part to a series. Also, any other thoughts would be great as well.
Trigger Warning - >! child abuse !<
I present these journals to you as a warning. There are churches that are indistinguishable from your Christian churches. Well, until you get to the inner circle. They pray to neither Yahweh nor Jesus even though they say they do. They pray to someone whose name I can never write. A god who loves to make himself known but because of forces even beyond him it is quite difficult for him to do so. A god who can give those he loves whatever he wants but only those he loves.
This isn’t a conspiracy of how elites secretly serve him or how he sits in the background dictating every move. This is an account of how he’s ruined my life.
Forgive my arrogance in the following journal entries; pride before the fall and all that.
Welcome, losers.
Today’s a big day for me and you. For you, this is the start of how you get everything you want in life by reading my memoirs. And for me, this is the day I start my first and hopefully last romantic relationship with a certain beautiful girl named Kay McKenzie. I won’t go into too much detail about her because I’m sure you’ve heard of her because I’m sure by the time you read this I’ll be famous and so will she ( she’ll be married to me, duh).
Anyway, here’s the most important thing for you to know about the universe. This will change your life and make my memoir sell out. Read this slowly. Come close. I’ll whisper this to you. The first commandment is the most overlooked; you shall have no other gods before me. It implies there are other gods and oh, boy does he love proving he’s real. I’m not a fan of Him, for reasons you’ll learn later, but you might be. There are two ways we know with one hundred percent certainty he’s real.
So, this one’s more like a party trick. If we try to say our god's name on camera something will happen and the name is never heard. This can be as simple as the camera losing audio for one second or a deer wailing like it’s been stabbed in the background to cover up the sound. I’ve heard both. If we try to write it we get similar effects; laptops shut down, ink spills, or the pencil lead splits and leaps right into the eye of the writer. I’ve seen it all.
Now, here’s what he does that’s beyond a party trick. He’s what I ( to the anger of my friends) call a coupon honoring god. That means if you believe Yahweh or whoever did a miracle -any miracle- and go into one of my god’s temples and tell him you have faith that Yahweh did it and state that you have faith that he can do the same, he’ll do it just like that. You can be healed from cancer, legs growing back, and people being raised from the dead. I’ve seen it all.
Where are these churches you ask? Everywhere really. You wouldn’t spot a difference on the outside or inside on an average Sunday service. Only once you reach the inner circle is the true nature of the church revealed to you. There are some megachurches, mid-sized churches, and struggling small churches. The small churches believe they are small because they teach the true Word and thus attract fewer people and they disdain the bigger churches. The big churches don’t think about the small churches until they need to give them money because they’re dying. I’ll let you decide who’s the better church. I know many of you are asking why would a church ever be poor if you could simply ask god for whatever you want. Well, we’ll get to that later.
I’ll give you a list of churches in the back of this book and you can either attend them and ask god for whatever or start a new holy war. Not my problem. I don’t care either way as long as you paid for this book which pays for my retirement.
Now let me tell you about my god and my girl because they’re intertwined in this religion of mine.
When I was thirteen, about four years ago, we had a special ceremony with our youth group. All of our youth group were driven by van to one of the temples. The churches are easy to find but the temples -where the real power is- they’re hard to find. This one was out in a cornfield, isolated and alone. It was not a grand thing and was closer in appearance to a shack in the woods than a grand cathedral.
We exited the bus to go to the temple in a silent single file line; talking without permission was an offense that resulted in physical punishment. We shivered in the rough wind and the cold drizzle of rain. Most of us kept our heads down to avoid the gaze of the high cornstalks. Silence was demanded but fear was allowed so our single-file scurried and shook all the way to the temple.
“Be seated,” Sharon our youth group leader told us and went away to who knows where. We did as we were commanded. She did not tell us to be silent but we understood.
The wind beat on the tinted windows as if it was demanding to come in. It shook the whole poorly made temple. The red carpet that lined the auditorium danced in front of my eyes. If we looked at it too long we would swear it was not solid, but a thick liquid, too thick for blood. The wooden pews groaned at any movement we would dare make. Many a kid has been beaten because their bench groaned too loud.
So we sat in corpse-like silence and forced stillness that made my heart race around my chest until Sharon finally returned.
Sharon came from the back of the sanctuary and held the hand of some kid a couple of years younger than us, maybe nine. I did not like Sharon. Everything about her screamed fake and uptight. Her static platinum hair and pink nails were too fake. Her clothes were tight and even as a child, I wondered why she dressed like that to teach youth group. I’ve seen the average youth group leader you guys have for church and no she did not look like that. I’m not sure why she wanted to be a youth group leader. I don’t even think she liked kids. Oh, well maybe that’s why. You’ll see what I mean.
Anyway, Sharon escorted the small child between the two pews where we sat. As she walked in, the benches quieted their groans and the wind eased its assault against the door to more of a polite and creepy knock. The carpet still looked swimmable.
“Today, we get to feed god,” Sharon said and smiled with a perky demeanor foreign to her. We all shifted in our seats and tried not to appear afraid. We forgot food. How could we feed our god without food? We forgot to bring food and this would make god mad, our parents mad, and Sharon mad. Most of us weren’t stupid, so we knew not to admit our flaws. Instead, we spoke to each other in hand signals and concerned looks to determine if anyone brought any food we could split. No one was stupid enough to admit we forgot to bring food.
Except this one girl in the front row who audibly yelped. We all turned to her.
“Mrs. Sharon,” the girl said. “Sorry, I mean Ms.” the girl corrected mid-stutter. She was shivering maybe out of nerves and maybe out of fear or maybe she was still recovering from the elements outside.
Ms. Sharon’s smile was as hard as stone. She hated being reminded she was unmarried.
Honestly, I think the girl was too oblivious to realize it. She went on stammering all the way through. Her hands moved up and down as she spoke like the most frazzled symphony conductor ever. “I’m sorry I forgot to bring food. I will do better next time. I always write stuff like this in my planner and I must have forgotten this time. I don’t normally do this. You know I’m a good student.”
“Ms. McKenzie,” Sharon said, stone-smile unbent. “I didn’t tell you to bring food because I have it.”
A great fire leaped from the altar at the end of the hall. The altar of our god stood about nine feet tall. He had the head of a bull, the sculpted arms of an Olympian, and a furnace that served as a stomach and that furnace roared now. We all sat in our seats and our eyes avoided the fire. You’ve probably never been in the presence of real supernatural power.
You feel the need to hide from it and are haunted by an evil insignificance. Maybe you’ve felt insignificant looking at stars. It dawns on you that you are small compared to the universe but I bet you embraced that, I bet it made you want to see all there was of life. I bet you took risks. I bet you traveled.
Well, I call this evil insignificance because it does the opposite. This power made me want to end life’s search. There was too much power and too many things that were beyond me. I wanted to stay in this seat hidden and scared and never have to face the uncertainty of life again. My heart fled, my head danced, and my mouth went dry. We were supposed to be silent but I heard myself panting.
Sharon did not mind it. She walked forward. Her heels did not clack against the carpet but instead made a sploshing sound as if she walked on a puddle. She dragged the kid behind her.
“Oh no, no, no,” I thought but didn’t dare say. The kid was the food. I know the kid was drugged. He had to be. Anyone with any survival instincts would have ran from her. She strode forward with confidence. Perhaps, this is why she wanted to work with kids. Perhaps this was her reward. She got to feel all of our god’s presence and not want to shrivel away like we wanted to.
All I could think was, ‘No, no, no,’ the closer they got. I didn’t want to watch this but I didn’t want to be next. So, I had to sit there and I was supposed to keep my eyes open but I couldn’t manage that.
I’m sorry I’m a coward but I covered my eyes. It didn’t feel right to see. That wasn’t enough though. My eyes couldn’t close tight enough, bright orange light crept in them. I squeezed with every muscle in my body and they couldn’t go tighter. Pain swarmed in the middle of my head because of the effort. Then came his screams once he was in the fire.
He was so confused. I heard a ‘what’ in there and so many cries for help. I opened my eyes to see if she would. She kicked him with her heel and he was pushed back into the flames. Then she laughed. Then they all laughed. And I felt sick because I didn’t know what was funny.
I didn’t know the kid which meant he wasn’t part of the inner circle of the church. So, we were told not to care about him or his safety. And that hurt me, for the past few months, I was having physical aches of pain at what I witnessed we did to unbelievers. It created a deep numbness within me for all things except me. How could I love my god or my people who would do such a thing?
The other kids did not feel this way. I can’t blame them I guess, it worked out for them. They laughed and laughed and made fun of how he wiggled in the flames. They marveled at how you could see his skeleton. They mocked how loud he got and they mocked his eventual silence.
And then the flame went out. And there was quiet.
Except for one person’s sniffles. Sniffles that soon grew into tears. Something that was frowned upon. Why should we pity something that was our god’s will?
The nervous girl from the front cried. She viciously wiped away tears from her face because she knew her tears were heinous, her empathy evil. She understood her own punishment would be coming. The other kids stared at her. That’s what I hated the most. They didn’t have the shame to turn away from her. No, they stared because they genuinely could not understand why she was crying. Or they had the sick desire to enjoy her upcoming punishment.
The girl could have saved herself from this punishment she maybe could have avoided it if she pretended that her tears were about anything else. But she kept saying; “I’m sorry. I don’t mean… it’s just they were so young.”
As Sharon walked now the world felt the weight of her steps. I felt it again. Again, I had to be a hopeless, spectator to an ugly-stomach turning spectacle. Sharon’s heels clacked against the ground resolute to deliver a punishment.
That girl was Kay McKenzie and that’s the moment I knew I loved her. I grew numb because of this world we lived in. She didn’t. I fell in love with the girl because she cared even when she wasn’t supposed to.
Sharon delivered her punishment with malice. A swift smack to the face. You all hide your punishments on parts of the body that could be hidden. Our leaders punish us on our faces so we can be shamed. Sharon's mission was not to stop until Kay’s face was swollen and purple and Kay’s tears ceased.
Now I had never done this and I don’t think I could do it again but I made myself cry to get Sharon’s attention off of Kay. A loud wail. So, Sharon had to click-clack her heels to me, smack me once, and then go back to Kay and keep going. Which to me is funny in a way. If you don’t laugh you cry right? Eventually, Sharon grew too tired and none of our faces became purple, just red.
Every strike from Sharon was worth it because Kay and I became friends after. She is a small girl and her two front teeth are big, like mine. And she talks too much ( in the opinion of everyone but me) and they say the same about me. And she gets depressed sometimes but won’t tell anybody because (like me) that’s not her role in life. We’re here to make people laugh and we would never burden anyone else with what makes us sad.
Like me she has a hard time expressing herself to people she’s not close to. Which is the saddest of tragedies for them and my saving grace because if she did they’d be hopelessly in love with her like me.
That is the wonderful heart of Kay McKenzie. The girl I will start dating tomorrow and then marry within the year. That’s her that’s the girl I’d go to Hell for. We will leave this god together and I’ll give her a life of peace where her empathy won’t be punished.

When I was sick I took emergency c. Crystals is best because liquid occupies your stomach but you can just down the crystals no problem . I'd go through like 4-5 of them a day. I wasn't sick after like 2 days

Some Backstory:
I've been experimenting with the goal of being able to achieve NEO (None Ejaculatory Orgasm) and Multiple Orgasms. (of course with an interest in Energy Orgasm as well, but as a later goal).
Having read a lot of materials online and through books, I of course tried the popular method of doing a strong kegel just prior to PONR - a prevalent method that is often recommended online and also one that was described in Keesling's book "How to Make Love All Night" in which it says to practice edging up to say 40%, 60, 80% arousal and doing a strong kegel followed by a deep breath and relxation. However, when I attempted it, what I noticed was that even if I was stopping at say 60% arousal, the strong kegel I performed and held ironically skyrocketed my arousal in a rapid acceleration. And within seconds I felt the strong sense of semen being loaded up into the tubes that triggers the inevitable eruption/ejaculation. I remembered clearly that the 60% arousal wasn't anywhere close to the PONR and in all honestly, the arousal would've just stopped by itself if I just relaxed instead of performing a strong kegel at that moment. In hindsight, this is no surprise as a strong kegel is supposed to temporary trigger and increase the arousal. Of course I've tried kegeling hard closer to the PONR, at say 90%.... perhaps I didn't do it right, but it had never worked for me. My arousal always increased after the strong kegel.
Recent Experiment and Result:
After having read people's discussions in regards to the Relaxation Method, I've tried it myself and finally felt like I was onto something. Here I will describe my experience a bit but I also have some questions for those who have more experience.
Basically I did some belly breathing to relax my mind and body. Then the next step is basically getting to a very light arousal state. I usually listen to erotic audio during this, but some light touches around the genital region, top part of the shaft, head sometimes when it's required. Basically just to slowly jump start the subtle arousal feeling (penis can sometimes be erect but doesn't have to be). This is followed by slowly sending/gathering more energy down at the genital region (sacral chakra?)
Here you will have to experiment yourself, I think both inhaling and breathing into the stomach/belly rise as well as exhaling into the belly work. It takes a lot of experimenting to really feel what feels right for you and to do it without tensing your body - either raising/inflating the belly too hard or tensing the abs too much. After some experimenting, what systematically worked for me was a fast exhale through the nose which at the same time will raise/push out the belly a little bit. dont exert force on pushing the belly out, the force from exhaling from your nose is enough and the belly doesn't have to get pushed out/raised that much. at the end of that exhale/belly rise, relax the stomach and 'roll' into a nose inhale. (this whole process should feel like wave. the wave pushing up and out (from nose exhale and the subsequent result of slight belly rise) to relaxing and starting the nose inhale which will slowly relax your stomach and lower until it's time to exhale through the nose again. (i know earlier i've said that the belly rises with the exhale, but when you're doing this in a cycle the more appropriate description is that the belly rise coincides with the end of the inhale/from the belly drop and into the exhale of belly rise. an effortless transition of the breath. this will help you avoid tensing your body as well because it's very natural. This I feel is very pivotal to my progress and I hope I have described it well, because there's so many different ways to breathe and in the past I had a real hard time pinning down the exact way to breathe so I would breathe a certain way, then another, and sometimes I would feel a slight arousal build-up, and sometimes it felt like I was tensing my body too much, my abs too much, inflating my belly too much, etc.
I'm really not an expert, and I'm still at the very early stage of discovery. Can anyone confirm if i'm describing it correctly? OK, I will describe what I noticed next.
Doing the above rhythm of breathing seems to slowly gather energy to that region and you will feel the energy build up. It will feel like tingles and this will build up. What happened to me next was a pulsating feeling to my penis. up and down? in and out? it's hard to describe. but the pulsating feeling felt like my penis subtly bouncing up and down (i dont know if my penis actually was bouncing 'cuz i did this at night with the lights off... but it felt like that).
This is a stronger arousal feeling and a more pleasant feeling than the initial tingles. and once in a while i would feel a slight trickle of precum? liquid coming out? sometimes it might just be the feeling? not really sure.
After a while, the arousal feeling will subside and I would just start all over again. Lightly touch the genital region, the head, the top of the shaft. you can also do a few kegels once you start noticing some arousal feelings and the few quick kegels (dont have to hold, just squeeze and release) should make your penis jump up and down and quickly get you to a more erect/aroused state. after that, just do the rhythm breathing again and you will get to enjoy the same sensations as before.
My analysis and thoughts:
The breathing I am doing I believe is basically triggering a very natural reverse kegel throughout the whole process. and reverse kegel - unlike regular kegel allows continuous bloodflow into the penis unlike the regular kegel squeeze which even-though will give more more erection temporary, but will actually cut off the bloodflow if holding it for too long. In addition, reverse kegel relaxes the pelvic floor muscles and prevents your bc muscle from getting triggered when you get too aroused or when your penis starts ejaculating. So after these experiments, I am now a strong believer in the importance of reverse kegel. I think this is why I was able to keep riding this wave for hours without ejaculating. because the reverse kegel is keep the bc muscle in check and preventing it from tensing.
QUESTIONS to those with more experience:
This was already a very pleasant experience for me, but what was the pulsating feeling and the occasional precum/liquid oozing out feeling that I was experiencing? was that NEO? or some kind of mini orgasm? if not, what does a NEO feel like? Is it the physical feeling of penis pumping like during an actual ejaculation - albeit, without the semen? A 'Dry Orgasm'?
So far I have just worked on continuously getting to that state... and most times it would subside which will require me to build it back up again to experience that pulsating feeling. and that was wonderful. However, ONE TIME, I was able to keep the rhythm going for longer than usual and there was definitely a stronger buildup type of feeling in the penis. a stronger arousal, like my penis is completely filled up with energy and about to burst kind of feeling - even a little sharp sting at the tip of the penis (hole area?). Maybe it's from too much bloodflow to the penis? In any case, I relaxed at that point and just let the feeling subsided and continued to build up again.
Should I have kept going? was that the next higher arousal state and I should just let it continue to buildup and happen? Where does that lead? a dry orgasm (NEO) ? Any tip on what I should do next to achieve a dry orgasm (NEO)? and how to transmute that sexual energy into an Energy Orgasm that is felt throughout the whole body?
A side note: I'm usually a guy who cums rather quickly from masturbation. And in the past, even if i stop manually touching my penis in the hopes of lowering my arousal, the tingling arousal feeling would never truly go away even if i have lost my erection and am flaccid. It would remain in a very highly sensitive state and any moderate touch or attempt to edge again would inevitably lead to a ejaculation short after. YET, somehow this this completely different. I was able to build up the arousal using this rhythm and breathing approach and keep going for hours.

Hi! Looking for advice.
I did a month of 2.5mg and all was good aside from the last week I was constantly nauseated but nothing I can't handle.
Took my 1st 5mg dose on Tuesday and I've never been more sick. Its like food poisoning on steroids. I couldn't get out of bed on Wednesday and couldn't work. Today (friday) I'm having pretty severe stomach ache and keep having to lie down but it's not as bad as before. The sulphur burps are horrible though.
I emailed med express for advice and they said I could either drop back down to 2.5 by counting clicks on my pen or take the next 5mg dose on day 10.
So my question is, which should I do for best results and lesser side effects? I lost 10lbs on 2.5 but I did notice the effectiveness starting to waiver before I moved up to 5. And now I can't eat at all haha.
Thanks!