Hello all! I had my total laparoscopic hysterectomy + bilateral salpingectomy/oophorectomy with vaginal assist on February 13, and am coming to share my story as a 40 year old with non-reproductive health factors. It's long because I got so much comfort from reading other detailed stories, so I'm including a lot of details! TL;DR: I'm healing beautifully and had a positive experience with no complications (yet).
Reasons for surgery: My personal menstruation story is that I had increasingly painful periods throughout my teens and 20s, which came with menstrual migraines that could last up to 3 days every month, cervical cramping, thick clotting, etc. As a teenager, I also had the WILDest mood swings. I went on the pill to quiet the symptoms, but they still came raging back every placebo week. Ultimately I got PMDD into my chart. Eventually, research came out that there's no harm in staying on active pills in perpetuity, so I did. Everything was amazing, and being childfree, I never planned to stop the pill. In 2020, my mom received a genetic cancer syndrome (Peutz-Jeghers Syndrome, which I will refer to as PJS) diagnosis after decades of searching for the right label (she had childhood cancer, total hysterectomy at 38, total colectomy early 40s, small bowel resections in 50s, gall bladder removed, etc.). Based on diagnostic criteria, I also got the PJS label. PJS comes with increased cancer risks throughout the body, including BRCA-level risks for all genital cancers and breast cancer. Yay me. The full-body screening process for PJS-caused cancers unveiled a small mass in my cervix. It was designated likely benign, but also unknown since a uterine biopsy, colposcopy, and hysteroscopy couldn't visualize it or retrieve any abnormal tissue. Given the PJS and cancer risks, I was a candidate for hysterectomy to reduce lifetime risk of cancer, so I went for it. I did not have fibroids, endometriosis, etc.
Other health factors: 1 previous blood clot in a superficial leg vein that had been varicose for years, and was resolved by ablation. Type 2 diabetes. Hypertension (which I think is really just my anxiety putting on a masquerade mask).
Surgeon & Hospital Info: I live in Las Vegas, NV and found a surgeon who is certified and specializes in robotic minimally invasive surgeries (DM me if you want her name!). She was phenomenal throughout the entire process. She took the time to research my condition and agreed that surgery was a great option. We discussed my history, my childfree choice, and at no time did she suggest any alternatives or talk me out of the surgery. The only thing was she needed to do a hysteroscopy to try to find the cervical mass because if it was cancer, she would have needed to transfer me to oncology. No suggestion that it was cancerous (she never even could see it because it's deep in the wall of the cervix), so she proceeded. I was able to get the surgery scheduled within 8 months of my first appointment. I had all procedures at Spring Valley Hospital.
Procedure Experience: At my pre-op appointment a week before surgery, my surgeon asked me to stop my BC pill because of the previous blood clot. We also went over stopping my Omega supplement and not taking any NSAIDs or having any alcohol. I had stopped the NSAIDs and alcohol already for over a week, so that was no problem. Until I stopped the BC. Of course my body one last time launched into an untreatable migraine 2 days before the procedure. It was one of those I-don't-care-if-you-took-zofran-you're-still-gonna-puke, light sensitive, temperature unregulated, massively painful obnoxious ones that made me hate my ovaries one last time. I got by with an ice pack on my head and neck, and just kept telling myself that if it still hurt by the time I got to the hospital, I'd get some good drugs and it would be fine. By surgery day, it had passed. I did not have to do any bowel prep and was just told not to eat anything for 12 hours prior to surgery, and I could have water up until 2 hours prior.
The night before surgery, I had to take a shower with antibacterial soap (for you dry skin folks, Dove makes an antibacterial body wash!) and wipe my entire body with Chlorhexidine wipes, and apply no lotion or deodorant. It made me feel sticky and I was not a fan. Day of surgery I was first on the docket, and appeared at the hospital with husband and mom at 5:30am as summoned. My blood pressure was elevated (140/80s), but the nurse said don't worry, we see that all the time in pre-op and you're fine. Got all the procedure questions done, got me into the hospital gown, IV placed with fluids, blood sugar checked and okay for me (130s). The anesthesiologist came by and asked me about my health, medications, etc, and let me know what he would be taking care of (keeping me asleep and not in pain!), and finally my surgeon came along just before OR time. She decided then that she would keep me in the hospital overnight because I had that blood clot before, just out of an abundance of caution. I didn't mind that - it actually put me at ease. Since my family is not a healthy one, hospitals are safe and comfortable places to me. It was just my first time being the patient!
I got wheeled to the OR, I remember scooting myself on to the operating table, getting my arms strapped onto the arm boards, and then nothing else until waking up in recovery. Everything in my pelvis hurt. Everything was so swollen, and my bladder hurt like it was full and I had to pee. I told the nurses that, and the said I had a catheter in, and I think they gave me more pain meds. I was in and out of consciousness for awhile. My husband and mom came back to see me, and every time I started dozing off, the pulse oximeter alarm went off. I guess I was too sleepy to breathe! They kept waking me up and telling me to take deep breaths. After an hour or two (in which I was not fully conscious), I got admitted and taken upstairs to a room. My oxygen kept going low, so we called the nurses and they finally gave me a nose tube for the oxygen so I could get some rest. The pain at this point was managed, but as the drugs wore off in the afternoon, I was around a 7/10. They never explained that I had to ask for meds, they just put a schedule on my white board of what time I could get my next doses. Once I asked, that was helpful, and I was able to manage the pain throughout the night.
The pain felt like gas, but also just like I had been beat up. My entire pelvic area felt bloated with air, swollen, and bruised/overworked. The catheter was incredibly uncomfortable any time I tried to move to get the rest of my body comfortable. I specifically asked about that, and the nurse removed it in early evening. I was able to pee a couple of hours after that - yay! Peeing hurt, but not in the burning urethra sense, more in the "my bladder got traumatized by everything that just happened around it" sense. Definitely a start-stop weak stream for a few days.
The whole time I was admitted, I wore these calf sleeve things that were plugged in to the bed and kept inflating/deflating. It was oddly comforting? While I was at Disneyland for my 40th, I bought a stuffed Wampa, and it was the BEST post-op pillow. Using it, I was able to tuck myself in to my hospital bed and sleep on my side (my preferred position) most of the night. They gave me a diabetic diet, and the food tray came with a little receipt printout of how many carbs every item on the plate had. Super helpful! They wouldn't let me take my regular prescriptions, and just checked my blood sugar before meals. VERY surprisingly, my glucose readings were all normal (like 105, 114, 108), so I never received any insulin. This was the biggest and most unexpected success, but I had been working hard to keep glucose in check because I know how much it impacts healing.
The next morning, I did have a feeling like I needed to move my bowels, so I went and sat on the toilet and did nothing but pass a large amount of gas. That helped my pain/pressure immensely and I was able to walk around the ward after that. After a couple of laps around the ward and lunch, I was released to go home. I was sent home with 10mg Percoset and 600mg Ibuprofen every 6 hours, alternating doses every 3 hours so there was overlap. Wampa basically got strapped in to the seatbelt like a lap infant to cushion me.
Home Care: I live in a 2-story house, with a flight of 17 stairs straight up. I was nervous about the stairs! After getting home, I sat in the living room in my recliner sectional for a few hours before going upstairs. I actually had no problem at all! I was able to just focus on relaxing my core and using my legs, and it was slow but not painful. My go-to sleep position for naps and the first 5 nights was on my back, 2 pillows beneath my head and shoulders to elevate, a pillow beneath my knees, and Wampa across my belly. I used a clear tote bag with a purse organizer from Daiso to put my regular pills, pain meds, inspirometer, thermomenter, lip balm, hand cream, and other necessities in, and carried it around the house with me when I moved from room to room. I always had a 30-oz insulated cup of sparkling water with me, which was refilled at least 2-3x/day. I used a big ice pack on my lower belly for an hour every day for the first several days to help with the swelling and pain. I took a shower (kept hair dry in a shower cap) the first night home; my husband sat in the bathroom to make sure I was okay the whole time, and helped me reach things when I was done. He also helped me put on compression socks for the first several days, until I could reach my feet again without pain. He and my Mom tag-teamed cooking meals or getting takeout. I decided there was no reason for me to be a hero and I took my Percocet on schedule. I started cutting them in half around day 10, then just taking them at night, then not at all. The pain stayed well under control, and I now just have some increased inflammatory pain if I've been up and around a lot (grocery shopping, driving, etc.).
POOP: Everyone here is worried about it, so here's my experience. Before surgery, I practiced putting my feet on yoga blocks and not pushing. It got me into the habit of what it would feel like. The yoga blocks are a great sub for a squatty potty if you don't have or want to purchase one. You can change the level of elevation by turning them on different sides, so it's very adaptable. I was prescribed a senna laxative plus stool softener to take at bedtime, and while I had a small BM on day 2 PO, it really worked best starting day 4 when I followed the dosing instructions and drank it with a lot of water before bed. I stopped taking it around day 6 PO, and things were back to normal. For reference, I also take probiotics 2x/day and eat a high-fiber diet. If you can work these things into your life in the months preceding surgery, I recommend it (for many reasons, not just being regular after surgery).
Activity restrictions/pace: For the first 4 days, I did not do much, but I did make myself get up to go to the bathroom (I couldn't pass gas without being on the toilet for 10-12 days), walked down the block to the mailbox, or up and down the stairs several times. On Day 5, there was a local craft market that I'd been wanting to go to, so we went. I walked slowly, but it was great to be out in the sunshine and moving. It wasn't comfortable. I had to make sure my meds were well timed. We ate lunch out, and I was able to lean around in a booth so I didn't have to sit straight up. When we got home, I took a nap, and the next day, I felt significantly better. Something about moving around for that amount of time loosened up a lot of the excess fluid and gas, and it all moved out in 24 hours. The bloated look/feel went right away, and it's been uphill since then, reducing pain meds and eliminating them (even ibuprofen) by day 14.
My biggest surprise was that my vagina felt swollen for over 12 days, and made sitting straight up in a chair uncomfortable at best. Finally that went away, and I can sit with the same amount of comfort I had pre-surgery.
Incisions/Spotting: I have 3 external lapro incision points: one in my belly button and two on my lower belly, above each hip. My incisions were closed with dissolving stitches and steristrips, covered with band-aids. I'm allergic to adhesives, so this has been incredibly itchy and borderline painful. I was able to remove the band-aids at the end of day 1, treated the very angry skin with lavender oil and flonase (sprayed on to the skin, yes, it's normally meant to go up your nose lol), and am still dealing with angry skin. Most of the steristrips came off in the shower starting around day 10, and I still have one that's hanging on. I've been trimming the loose ends, but it wants to be there so I'm letting it.
I bled for the first few hours in the hospital, spotted visibly on pads for another day, and have been pad/liner free and just seeing pink on the toilet paper (esp with BMs). I had one clot with my first big BM, but that was all.
HRT: I started with the .1 Estradiol patch on day 10 post op. In those 10 days, I had night sweats and hot flashes and I was NOT a fan. Those are eliminated with the patch. I do pre-treat my skin for the adhesive (shower, lavender EO disinfecting wipe, flonase), but it's not blocking the absorption and I don't feel any different mood-wise than I did on the pill, so this seems to be a success so far!
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I can't think of anything else, but AMA - in comments or DMs and I'll be happy to share my experience!

This sub was incredibly helpful for my surgery preparation, including mental and emotional prep, so I want to give back by sharing my story and answering questions that anyone might have. I hope everyone is having or will have an uneventful surgery and recovery process!
Surgery Details:
1/26/24 laparoscopic hysterectomy with robot assist, everything removed except left ovary (uterus, cervix, both tubes, right ovary), age 47 and was already post-menopausal. Diagnosis of atypical endometrial hyperplasia (AEH) was the reason for surgery. Had lots of bleeding and pain the past year due to the AEH - pretty much everyday for the last six months.
My surgery experience was – odd to say – nice. I’ll give more details on the actual surgery if anyone wants it. They gave me a dose of Versed after I met with the surgeon and anesthesia team, so I don’t remember anything after them starting to wheel me out of the room until I woke up post-op. That’s how I wanted it.
I watched YouTube videos of similar procedures and this calmed my anxiety more than anything else. Knowing exactly what would happen and why during the procedure took away my fear of the unknown. I also watched Michelle Kenway’s YouTube videos about hysterectomy recovery and recommend them, especially the one about getting out of bed. I also recommend doing leg exercises everyday post-op for the first few days to prevent blood clots.
Recovery:
My recovery thus far has been uneventful and much easier than I anticipated. I feel lucky and grateful. I am not particularly healthy or unhealthy other than the AEH that led to the surgery, although I am very overweight. I expected to be mostly useless physically and mentally post-op and neither was the case, even the first night. I was home by 5:45 p.m. and napped for a couple of hours, then I was up and walking around (very carefully). I have only been in bed to sleep at night and have spent my days on my reclining sofa or in my desk chair.
Things I credit with my easy recovery: bowel prep and sheer freaking luck. I think you can do everything right and your body will still rebel.
Some tidbits from the notes I took on my recovery notepad:

• 2DPO a.m.: some cuff pain even with meds (a.m.); worst pain so far, in lower abdomen (p.m.)
• 3DPO: throat barely sore anymore; extremely cold feet; have noticed labia are swollen, inflamed, and kinda itchy; first time noticing “phantom tampon” sensation
• 4DPO: freezing legs and feet; weird fluttering spasms for hours in what I think is my colon; absolutely feel like my cuff is just drooping and will fall right out of me; stopped taking Percocet and only taking OTC pain meds
• 5DPO: first time I can tell when I need to pee since surgery; first fart that wasn’t part of pooping (YES, I made note of this because it’s just abnormal for me); first “real” food that wasn’t just a snack of some sort; very cold feet, legs, and arms; sore cuff from sitting upright in chair
• 6DPO: started trying to take lower doses of OTC pain meds but keep 4-hour consistency
• 7DPO: tried not waking up in the middle of the night to take OTC pain meds and this was a mistake, was very sore in the morning
• 8DPO: very restless; made the mistake of opening our freezer drawer and heating up chicken nuggets in the oven and my lower abdomen was extremely sore so I took a Percocet; also made a seemingly insignificant move doing something else and my upper abs and right ribcage muscles were super sore - this was the worst day for pain so far at this point in my recovery
• 10DPO: did not wake up in the middle of the night to take pain meds and was fine
• 11DPO: slightly sore upper abs from helping change a door knob
• 13DPO: first driving experience, about 10 total miles, and going into 2 small stores for about 5-10 minutes each. I was SO SORE in my cuff, lower abs, upper abs. I also had sharp, shooting pain in my lower right abdomen where my stupid ovary used to be. I’ve had some pain there on other days since,, but doc says we can’t diagnose until my recovery has finished. This was my worst day for pain throughout my entire recovery so far through 3WPO.
• 2WPO: have greatly decreased pain med dosage and frequency; had to drive about 10 miles again for first post-op doc check-up, tried to use my core a lot less this time and that helped; noticed stitches protruding slightly from incisions for the first time. At this check-up, it’s the first time my doc ever told me a weight limit for lifting (15 pounds) or that I should not be bending. I wouldn’t have known either if not for this sub. Labia are STILL inflamed, doc says this is not cause for concern because of the vaginal removal of uterus, etc. (I should note that I have a skin condition that makes me very sensitive to friction on my skin.)
• 2.5WPO: I let my 15-pound cuddly dog lie on my stomach for a couple of minutes and it made me very sore but was so worth it. I’m going to wait longer until letting her do it again, though.
• 3WPO: only taking OTC pain meds once a day; longer tolerance to sitting upright in a chair before cuff soreness (a few hours a day with frequent walking breaks)

Bowel prep info:
(Please discuss bowel prep with your surgeon and don’t just follow the advice of some stranger on Reddit but here is my experience.) I was not required to do bowel prep but choose to do so anyway, with approval from my surgery team. I decided to do it to help avoid accidental nicks or other damage and because I suspected that I had adhesions to my colon, etc. It turned out that I did, and the surgeon was able to remove them.
I absolutely credit bowel prep with some of the ease of my recovery. I had no constipation and no gas pains. None. I pooped 1DPO with no issues or pain.
I used this method: https://pacificendometriosis.com/bowel-prep/ but I also started a daily laxative about 5 days pre-op.
For my clear liquids, I drank bone broth, apple juice, coconut water, and Ensure Clear Nutrition drink in addition to the Powerades that I drank my Miralax in. I kept my laxative Powerades at room temperature rather than refrigerated because it was easier to chug down. At one point during the prep day, I did feel dizzy, lightheaded and weird but I was mostly fine by the next morning for surgery. I absolutely was pooping out everything until it was literally just clear water coming out. I used a peri bottle which helped with soreness. I had Vaseline in case I needed it but I didn't. The Vaseline was a suggestion from a friend who had recently done bowel prep for a colonoscopy. I also used wet wipes which helped with soreness.
Things to bring to the hospital:

• Some way of putting your hair up for surgery if it’s long. My nurse recommended that I use the scrunchy I had brought for just in case because she said longer hair tends to get knotty during the surgery
• Vaseline Lip Therapy for pre- and post-op
• Slip-on shoes that you can wear with socks. I didn’t feel like taking off the non-slip surgery socks they put on me. I wore slides.
• Seatbelt pillow
• Towel or other protection for car seat
• Ask for barf bags before you leave
• I wore a long maxi dress and an oversized jacket so I didn’t have to try to put on pants or a bra or panties before going home.
• I had an outpatient surgery but I did leave a packed hospital bag in the car in case I needed to stay overnight or longer.

Things I used post-op and would recommend:

• Heating pad - I used mine so much that I purchased a second one so I could leave one plugged in by the sofa and one plugged in by the bed. I had to use a pillow to keep it weighted down so I could feel the warmth, so if you can splurge for a weighted heating pad, I recommend that.
• Grabber - I used this to pick up anything I dropped on the floor (which I do a lot), do the dog’s food and water bowls, do light loads of laundry, etc. I wound up getting a second grabber that folds in half so I could keep it on my nightstand by my bed.
• Laxatives and stool softeners - I did one dose of Miralax powder mixed into 20-ounce Powerade bottles - one of these everyday for the first week or so after surgery until I felt like I’d be able to go on my own. I am still taking stool softeners but will be stopping them soon.
• Chloraseptic throat spray
• Peri bottle
• Ibuprofen and acetaminophen - I alternated these every four hours without fail, even in the middle of the night. I was prescribed Percocets (oxycodone/acetaminophen) to alternate with ibuprofen at first, but I got off of those by 4DPO.
• Applesauce pouches - I kept some of these by my bed so I could quickly eat one every time I took meds. I just ate them at room temperature.
• A small notepad and pen kept bedside so I could track every time I took a med plus any observations I had in my first couple of weeks of recovery.
• AZO and cranberry juice for prevention of UTI after catheter and to help with any potential pain
• Hibiclens for pre- and post-surgery showers
• Nightgowns - I only started being able to tolerate wearing anything with a waistband, even stretchy, at around 2.5WPO. I could wear waistbands but I was SO MUCH more comfortable without them and noticed less ab soreness. I don’t sleep in nightgowns, but OMG they’re so comfy I’m going to start changing into them as soon as I get home from work from now on, lol.
• A sturdy chair to grab on to to help stabilize you when getting out of bed

Things I used post-op which were nice to have but not essential:

• A cane to help with stability getting around my house the few days, especially with a dog who likes to be underfoot. It also gave me something to lean on when getting on and off the toilet, sofa, bed, etc.
• Cheap rugs by the toilets, sofas, etc., to help give me more traction under my feet when I got up.
• Hysterectomy pillow - I spent $30+ on this and I really didn’t need to. Yes, you need a pillow for your car ride home. I also needed pillows to keep my cuddly dog from jumping on me. But I didn’t need a special pillow for that. BTW, my 30-minute ride home from the hospital was ROUGH even with the pillow.
• Loofah on a stick
• Ensure nutrition drinks since I didn’t feel like eating much the first few days
• Pushing my bed against the wall (pre-op, of course) allowed me to have pillows for support on both sides of me so I could side sleep by 2DPO.
• Clindamycin antibiotic gel - I used this externally, on my labia, daily. I already had a prescription due to other gyn issues. It helped soothe the inflammation, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt with preventing infection on the cuff either.
• Hydrocortisone cream for some tiny blisters I got from a Band-Aid I put over one of my incisions when the steri strip fell off.
• Blow dryer to dry your wounds after showering
• Soothing eye gel for post-op because they tape your eyelids shut
• Spirometer - I got pneumonia after anesthesia once in the past. It could’ve been coincidental. I didn’t want to take a chance this time, so I got a cheap spirometer to make sure I was breathing deeply enough post-op.
• A wedge pillow - I sleep on one every night anyway so I can’t say it helped with recovery per se but I was never uncomfortable trying to sleep.

Things I purchased or prepared but didn’t use and/or need:

• Throat Coat tea - This didn’t do anything to soothe my throat although others recommend it. I got the lemon echinacea one instead of the original slippery elm one so that could be why.
• peppermint tea, ginger tea, Smooth Move tea - just didn’t need them
• Gas-X - I had no gas issues or pain, even lapro gas. My surgeon expelled the lapro gas from me post-op. I’m not sure Gas-X would’ve worked on the lapro gas anyway.
• Ice packs - I had these on hand to help with incision pain or itching but did not experience either
• Dog peepee pads - I luckily had no bleeding or other leakage post-op.
• Barf bags - The scopolamine patch they applied at the hospital pre-op prevented all nausea for me. I left it on for three days, since they said that’s how long the medicine would last. I had nausea and vomiting after anesthesia before, so I very much wanted to avoid it after this operation.
• Wound care items - my incisions thankfully did not need any special care other than I made sure to blow dry them after showering
• Compression socks
• Donut pillow - This did nothing for me to help with cuff soreness from sitting upright and just made my back hurt.
• Neck pillow
• Basket to haul my stuff (meds, etc.) from one place to another. I just kept everything by my bed and walked in there when I needed something.

Hi, I just got my operation done today and I’m concerned with a couple things. If anyone can answer I’d appreciate it.

1. It seemed like they had trouble fitting something in.. not sure what. It seemed like they needed a bigger drill
   
2. They also removed a lot of my meniscus, which I expected since I was misdiagnosed 4 years ago and played sports all throughout until I learned of the tear a month or two ago.
   

Anyone who can put this in some easier words/understanding for me I’d really appreciate it! Also, if this is normal procedure for this type of operation
Procedure Brought to the operating room placed under general anaesthesia given a block first. Right lower extremity prepped draped usual sterile fashion. Tourniquet inflated 3 to 50 mmH. Either way positive Lachman pivot shift drawer. After sterilely prepping and draping placed scope inferior lateral stab incision. There was a tear of the anterior cruciate. It was torn off the lateral wall. Subsequently then proceeded to make 212 incisions over the inferior pole of the patella and anteromedial proximal tibia. A centimetre strip of patellar tendon with a 9 x 20 and 10 x 25 mm bone block taken from patella and tibia respectively. Use the oscillating microsagittal saw. Single 2 mm drill hole in the patellar bone block to 2 mm drill holes in the tibial bone block. Then proceeded to fashion to fit through sizers and the back table as Dr. Then placed a moist saline soaked sponge a tight rope device placed on the femoral side. Proceeded to place in the telescope cleared out lateral wall soft tissue. Then proceeded to 5 mm from the back knee and 140 degrees to the anteromedial portal and use a spade tip guidewire drilled across measured 48. Then proceeded to prepare the tibial drill hole was on the anteromedial tibial spine 5 mm in front of the posterior cruciate or border lateral meniscus. First used a 5 mm then used the true 10 then passed the graft the femoral plug would not go in because the tibial plug was too long. Was unable to get the tibial plug in and subsequently had to take the whole graft and remove the tight rope device placed a single #2 FiberWire which I placed to the single hole which it stretched a bit as a result of all the pulling and then weaved in a slight Bennell fashion to the proximal portion of the tibia then proceeded to repassed made my second 10 mm bone block smaller. It actually did not fit through the sizer. I made sure it fit through the sizer. Then proceeded to again passed the graft using a Beath pin and a #1 PDS then passed the actual graft into the tunnel and then placed a large guidewire beside it placed the 9 x 25 mm interference screw. Then on the tibial side I placed a 7 × 25 wedge screw Lachman pivot shift drawer delaminated ACL was in excellent position there was no notch impingement. Then proceeded closed with

1 Vicryl. Some bone from the tibia to the 2 defects in the patella and tibia respectively. Then proceeded to close a 2-0 Vicryl. 3-0 Dermalon for the skin Steri-Strips for bite Webril and a tensor bandage.

Transferred to cover room stable condition. Weightbearing as tolerated prescription for Percocet since trauma back 2 weeks time. Also of note was the fact that in his lateral compartment the meniscus was torn removed about 30 to 40% there was some grade 3-4 changes particularly on the tibial surface there was a spot about a centimetre. Grade 3 changes over the condyle. This gentleman has arthritic changes in his lateral compartment. The medial compartment the articular surface of meniscus were normal.

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All that's certainly going on in the wild. But the natural world, it turns out, is so much more interesting than simply squaring off in brutish battles. As in tales of palace intrigue, the quest for power among animals is subtle, nuanced, strategic and, dare I say, beautiful. https://phys.org/news/2023-01-power-struggles-nature-subtle-nuanced.html
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Independent voters in the 2022 midterms made a decisive difference in close elections. https://phys.org/news/2023-01-independent-voters-decisive-elections-theyre.html
These bans are not merely the actions of academics who are worried they won’t be able to catch cheaters. This is not just about catching students who copied a source without attribution. Rather, the severity of these actions reflects a question, one that is not getting enough attention in the endless coverage of OpenAI’s ChatGPT chatbot: Why should we trust anything that it outputs?
This is a vitally important question, as ChatGPT and programs like it can easily be used, with or without acknowledgement, in the information sources that comprise the foundation of our society, especially academia and the news media. https://theconversation.com/unlike-with-academics-and-reporters-you-cant-check-when-chatgpts-telling-the-truth-198463
But the main indicator of inflation, the consumer price index, is compiled by looking at the changes in price specifically urban Americans pay for a set basket of goods. Those living in rural America are not surveyed.
As economists who study rural America, we believe this poses a problem: People living outside America's cities represent 14% of the U.S. population, or around 46 million people. They are likely to face different financial pressures and have different consumption habits than urbanites.
The fact that the Bureau of Labor Statistics surveys only urban populations for the consumer price index makes assessing rural inflation much more difficult—it may even be masking a rural-urban inflation gap. https://phys.org/news/2023-01-rural-americans-inflation-figures-faster.html
Our newly published research found most of the dust inside homes came from outside and contains potentially toxic trace metals such as lead, arsenic and chromium.
Worryingly, we found some contaminants can accumulate at higher concentrations inside homes than outside. This happened in homes with certain characteristics: older properties, metal construction materials enriched in zinc, recent renovations and deteriorating paint.
Fortunately, you can take some simple steps to reduce your exposure, https://theconversation.com/toxic-pollutants-can-build-up-inside-our-homes-here-are-8-ways-to-reduce-the-risks-197908
What are Netflix's secret genre codes?
There are secret codes that can be used to unlock dozens of hidden shows on Netflix.
To access the secret codes, simply put the code at the end of wwwnetflixcom/browse/genre or enter it into the streaming service's search bar
A
Action Comedies 43040
Action Sci-Fi & Fantasy 1568
Action Thrillers 43048
Action Thril............ https://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-11679449/Netflix-secret-codes-unlock-scores-hidden-films-TV-shows.html
The DTU’s study – a collaboration with the Danish Veterinary and Food Administration –
found higher levels of PFAS in organic eggs than it did in free-range, barn and battery hens. Its presence is thought to have been caused by PFAS-contaminated fish – a common raw material in hen feed.
“A cleaner feed ingredient for egg-laying hens would result in effective mitigation of PFAS in organic eggs within one to two weeks,” says the DTU.
“It is expected that the EU will later introduce maximum levels in feed, as it has been implemented for other environmental pollutants,” comments Granby.
Danish producers have already announced that they will stop using fishmeal in feed for egg-laying hens with immediate effect. https://www.naturalproductsonline.co.uk/food-and-drink/danish-research-uncovers-forever-chemicals-in-organic-eggs/
After 8 weeks, biologists RUDN University compared physiological parameters in fish from different groups. It turned out that malic acid had practically no effect on growth, weight gain and survival. However, the changes were noticeable at the molecular level. In fish that received malic acid, the activity of several enzymes increased: alanine aminotransferase, lysozyme, catalase, superoxide dismutase, glutathione peroxidase. The first two are involved in metabolism and protection against bacteria, the rest affect the antioxidant mechanisms of the body. In addition, fish that received 0.5% malic acid supplementation had an increase in total immunoglobulin levels. In terms of the sum of improvements, the most effective was the 0.25% addition of malic acid to the feed. https://www.newswise.com/articles/malic-acid-improves-the-health-of-fish
RUDN University biologists with colleagues from Iran proved the effectiveness of the biofloc water purification system in aquaculture under conditions of high stocking density. The results are published in Aquaculture Nutrition. https://www.newswise.com/articles/rudn-university-biologist-proved-the-effectiveness-of-the-biofloc-system-for-fish-farms
Each participant repeated more than 800 variations of the visual identification task, and the neuroscientists measured how quickly people improved.
The learning rate for those locked into the right rhythm was at least three times faster than for all the other groups.
When participants returned the next day to complete another round of tasks, those who learned much faster under entrainment had maintained their higher performance level.
The research indicated that the learning boost only occurred when the visual flicker chimed with the trough of a brainwave.
Scientists believe this is the point in a cycle when neurons are in a state of “high receptivity”.
The study’s first author, Dr Elizabeth Michael, said: “It was exciting to uncover the specific conditions you need to get this impressive boost in learning. https://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/cambridge-university-victoria-scientists-nanyang-technological-university-singapore-b2272416.html
In a significant new study, UC Davis Comprehensive Cancer Center researchers have uncovered a link between a patient's microbiome and their immune system that can potentially be used to improve the treatment of soft tissue sarcoma. This type of cancer is found in connective tissues like muscle, fat and nerves.
Findings from the study were published in the Journal for Immunotherapy of Cancer. https://www.news-medical.net/news/20230130/Study-finds-link-between-tumor-microbiome-and-immune-system-in-sarcoma-patients.aspx
Spanning nearly 17 million acres - an area slightly larger than the state of West Virginia - the Tongass stores 44% of all the carbon dioxide contained in national forests across the country, according to the Alaska Conservation Foundation.
One of the world's largest intact temperate rainforests, it is home to 800-year-old cedar, hemlock and Sitka spruce trees that help provide habitats for over 400 species of land and marine wildlife.
Environmental experts view protecting the forest as key to conserving biodiversity and mitigating climate change. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-64428423
An animal study by Johns Hopkins University researchers found that an approved antibiotic regimen may not work for TB meningitis due to multidrug-resistant strains. Small human studies have also provided evidence that a new combination of drugs is needed. https://www.webmd.com/lung/news/20230130/troubling-signs-tb-is-gaining-resistance-against-combo-antibiotics?src=RSS_PUBLIC
Through a complex chemical process, scientists have been able to develop versatile, synthetic 'cyborg' cells in the lab. They share many characteristics of living cells while lacking the ability to divide and grow. https://www.sciencealert.com/scientists-create-semi-living-cyborg-cells-that-could-transform-medicine
E. coli is arguably the most well-studied organism on Earth, but scientists have now discovered a new behavior that’s almost never seen in bacteria. The normally single-celled organisms have shown signs of previously unknown multicellular phases. https://newatlas.com/biology/single-celled-bacteria-ecoli-multicellularity/
Ketogenic diet may have short-term use in treating polycystic ovary syndrome
Very low-calorie ketogenic diets may be a potential treatment for women with PCOS researchers say, resulting in weight loss and positive outcomes in reversing insulin resistance. The study, published in Current Nutrition Reports recommends professional supervision of the diet. https://www.endocrinology.org/news/item/19938/ketogenic-diet-may-have-short-term-use-in-treating-polycystic-ovary-syndrome
Berkeley Lab scientists invented a material that will make it simple and economical to recycle a wide range of batteries https://newscenter.lbl.gov/2023/02/01/an-easy-new-way-to-recycle-batteries-is-here/
It’s not just humans that get COVID — other animals are susceptible too https://geneticliteracyproject.org/2023/02/01/its-not-just-humans-that-get-covid-other-animals-are-susceptible-too/
Don’t be misled by stories
There are many stories about what a happy life entails, but they’re not always backed up by reliable evidence. An example would be the “when I achieve this, I will be happy” story described above. Another popular story is that money buys happiness. I spent much of my research career examining this (and travelling humbly for 18 months). https://theconversation.com/ive-spent-years-studying-happiness-heres-what-actually-makes-for-a-happier-life-197580
Our ancestors probably didn’t smell good, but did they smell well? A new study has grown odor receptors from Neanderthals and Denisovans, and tested their sensitivities to different smells compared to modern humans. https://newatlas.com/biology/neanderthal-denisovan-odor-receptors-smell-sensitivity/
Right now Health Service budgets are facing a squeeze like never before, and drugs that don't work properly - and some drugs that can make a patient ill - are a drain on the NHS.
Ulster University says that 7% of hospital admissions are caused by medications that have been prescribed to patients.
That figure rises to a shocking 15% when it comes to patients aged 65 and older.
Ulster University's Personalised Medicine Centre is based in Londonderry, and makes use of laboratories at Altnagelvin Hospital and research facilities at Ulster's Magee Campus. The university team examines a patient's unique DNA profile to see which drugs will work best for that individual, and crucially which medicines will be less effective. https://www.itv.com/news/utv/2023-02-01/your-prescription-medicines-could-be-based-on-your-dna-profile
The Pebble deposit is near the headwaters of the Bristol Bay watershed, which supports a bounty of salmon “unrivaled anywhere in North America,” according to the EPA.
Tuesday’s announcement marks only the 14th time in the roughly 50-year history of the federal Clean Water Act that the EPA has flexed its powers to bar or restrict activities over their potential impact on waters, including fisheries. EPA Administrator Michael Regan said his agency’s use of its so-called veto authority in this case “underscores the true irreplaceable and invaluable natural wonder that is Bristol Bay.”
The veto is a victory for the environment, economy and tribes of Alaska’s Bristol Bay region, which have fought the proposal for more than a decade, said Joel Reynolds, western director and senior attorney with the Natural Resources Defense Council. https://www.pbs.org/newshoupolitics/epa-uses-rare-veto-to-block-alaska-copper-gold-mine-plan
To study this, researchers used cone beam computed tomography (CBCT) — a type of X-ray — to measure bone density in the heads and necks of 38 adults. Half of the study participants had sleep apnea.
These scans found that participants with sleep apnea had significantly lower bone-mineral density than the participants without the condition.
Sleep apnea can cause difficulty breathing while asleep, which can lead to low levels of oxygen in the body, inflammation, oxidative stress and shortened breathing patterns.
These symptoms may each have a chronic negative effect on bone metabolism and eventually bone density, said senior author Dr. Thikriat Al-Jewair. She is an associate professor of orthodontics in the UB School of Dental Medicine and director of the school's Advanced Education Program in Orthodontics. https://consumer.healthday.com/sleep-apnea-2659334074.html
Not content with aiming to resurrect the woolly mammoth and the thylacine, Colossal Biosciences has now announced the third animal on its de-extinction list – the dodo. This comes on the heels of a substantial new round of funding, with the company also providing an update on its scientific progress so far. https://newatlas.com/biology/dodo-de-extinction-colossal-biosciences/
As seafood demand soars and the ocean is denuded of fish, plant-based salmon offers sustainable path forward https://geneticliteracyproject.org/2023/02/01/as-seafood-demand-soars-and-the-ocean-is-denuded-of-fish-plant-based-salmon-offers-sustainable-path-forward/
was able to cool molecules down to ultracold temperatures, load them into an artificial crystal of light known as an optical lattice, and study their collective quantum behavior with high spatial resolution such that each individual molecule could be observed.
“We prepared the molecules in the gas in a well-defined internal and motional quantum state. The strong interactions between the molecules gave rise to subtle quantum correlations which we were able to detect for the first time,” said Bakr.
This experiment has profound implications for fundamental physics research, such as the study of many-body physics, which looks at the emergent behavior of ensembles of interacting quantum particles. The research also might accelerate the development of large-scale quantum computer systems. https://www.newswise.com/articles/researchers-reveal-microscopic-quantum-correlations-of-ultracold-molecules
‘Weeds’ are plants with special botanical and ecological attributes that allow their rapid establishment in disturbed areas, helping to reduce erosion of soils.Many weedy species have also proven their usefulness as medicines and food, going back several millennia. Wildlife, too, can benefit from such plants.Yet these plants are often the focus of a ‘war on weeds’ which is unfortunate and misguided, the author of a new book on the topic argues. “Can weeds be appreciated for their critical ecological roles? Can they be managed in situations where they may become problematic?” he asks.This post is a commentary. The views expressed are those of the author, not necessarily of Mongabay. https://news.mongabay.com/2023/02/war-with-weeds-lacks-ecological-understanding-and-empathy-commentary/
Antidepressants can induce mutation and enhance persistence toward multiple antibiotics https://www.pnas.org/doi/abs/10.1073/pnas.2208344120?af=R
If You Pan For Gold, Do You Actually Get To Keep It?Just don't fall in the river when panning, or you'll come away with a miner injury. https://www.iflscience.com/if-you-pan-for-gold-do-you-actually-get-to-keep-it-67355
The western bumble bee (Bombus occidentalis) was once common in western North America, but this species has become increasingly rare through much of its range. To understand potential mechanisms driving these declines, we used Bayesian occupancy models to investigate the effects of climate and land cover from 1998 to 2020, pesticide use from 2008 to 2014, and projected expected occupancy under three future scenarios. Using 14,457 surveys across 2.8 million km2 in the western United States, we found strong negative relationships between increasing temperature and drought on occupancy and identified neonicotinoids as the pesticides of greatest negative influence across our study region. https://www.pnas.org/doi/abs/10.1073/pnas.2211223120?af=R
These strangely-shaped twisted-toroid propellers look like a revolutionary (sorry) advance for the aviation and marine sectors. Radically quieter than traditional propellers in both air and water, they're also showing some huge efficiency gains. https://newatlas.com/aircraft/toroidal-quiet-propellers/
“We found evidence that simply watching one non-instructional demonstration of an expert performing a highly complex skill leads people to become more confident in their ability to perform that skill. More specifically, when people watched a trivially informative video of a pilot landing a plane, it inflated their confidence that they themselves could land a plane,” the researchers wrote.
Additionally, the second experiment showed that the order the questions were asked had a significant effect such that when the ‘without dying’ question was asked first, it boosted video-watchers confidence for both questions, but when the ‘as well as a pilot’ question was first, confidence was not inflated on either question. https://www.psypost.org/2023/02/false-confidence-watching-a-simple-video-increases-peoples-belief-in-their-own-ability-to-land-a-plane-67321
Wiesemeyer and colleagues studied infrared light coming from the Moon. In the spectrum, they observed two narrow “dips” due to the absorption of light by oxygen isotopes. By comparing the dips’ shapes, which are isotope dependent, the team estimated the ratio of 16O to 18O at altitudes from 50 to 200 km.
Wiesemeyer says that isotope-ratio measurements of the upper atmosphere could lead to a new definition of the boundary between the atmosphere of a life-bearing planet and outer space. For aerospace engineers, that boundary lies where atmospheric drag ceases. But a more relevant choice for astrobiologists, he says, may be the altitude where isotopic concentrations stop being dominated by a planet’s biological activity. https://physics.aps.org/articles/v16/s19
The scientists analyzed residues found on vessels unearthed from the embalming workshop.
Archaeologists were also able to determine which particular substances were used to preserve different body parts. (Pistachio resin and castor oil, for example, were used only for the head.) https://us.cnn.com/2023/02/01/africa/ancient-egypt-mummy-embalming-workshop-scn/index.html
They found that a cloud of super-cooled sodium-lithium (NaLi) molecules disappeared 100 times faster than normal when exposed to a very specific magnetic field. The molecules' rapid disappearance is a sign that the magnetic field tuned the particles into a resonance, driving them to react more quickly than they normally would.
The findings shed light on the mysterious forces that drive molecules to chemically react. They also suggest that scientists could one day harness particles' natural resonances to steer and control certain chemical reactions. https://phys.org/news/2023-02-physicists-rare-resonance-molecules.html
A UCLA-led study provides the first scientific evidence that brick and mortar pharmacies in Northern Mexican tourist towns are selling counterfeit pills containing fentanyl, heroin, and methamphetamine. These pills are sold mainly to US tourists, and are often passed off as controlled substances such as Oxycodone, Percocet, and Adderall.
The pills are available without a prescription – potentially adding to the already high number of overdose deaths stemming from use of those potent drugs in Mexico and the US.
“These counterfeit pills represent a serious overdose risk to buyers who think they are getting a known quantity of a weaker drug,” said senior author Chelsea Shover, assistant professor-in-residence of medicine in the division of general internal medicine and health services research at the David Geffen School of Medicine at UCLA. https://www.newswise.com/articles/counterfeit-pills-sold-in-mexican-pharmacies-found-to-contain-fentanyl-heroin-and-methamphetamine
Messenger RNAs (mRNAs) contain chemical marks that are critical for antiviral defense in cells, according to a new study from researchers at Weill Cornell Medicine. The finding solves a 50-year mystery concerning the purpose of these chemical modifications, and suggests that faulty mRNA modification may underlie some autoimmune and inflammatory disorders.
The researchers, whose findings appear Feb. 1 in Nature, discovered that the presence of a common modification, called a methylation, at a particular spot on an mRNA molecule, provides extra protection for the mRNA from antiviral immune mechanisms that might otherwise destroy it. https://phys.org/news/2023-02-long-standing-mystery-mrnas.html
Ten thousand light-sensitive cameras send data to scientists watching for evidence of a neutrino bumping into another particle. (Tom Howell/CBC)
The Sudbury Neutrino Observatory (SNOLAB) is already famous for an earlier experiment that revealed how neutrinos 'oscillate' between different versions of themselves as they travel here from the sun.
This finding proved a vital point: the mass of a neutrino cannot be zero. The experiment's lead scientist, Arthur McDonald, shared the Nobel Prize in 2015 for this discovery.
The neutrino is commonly known as the 'ghost particle.' Trillions upon trillions of them emanate from the sun every second. To humans, they are imperceptible except through highly specialized detection technology that alerts us to their presence.
Neutrinos were first hypothesized in the early 20th century to explain why certain important physics equations consistently produced what looked like the wrong answers. In 1956, they were proven to exist. https://www.cbc.ca/radio/ideas/particle-astrophysics-studying-origin-of-universe-1.6733153
In the same way that the types of infections likely matter, so do the specific types of nutrients: animal fats, plant fats, starches, simple sugars, proteins. Like glucose, fats can be boons in some contexts but detrimental in others, as Lynch has found. In people with obesity or other metabolic conditions, immune cells appear to reconfigure themselves to rely more heavily on fats as they perform their day-to-day functions. They can also be more sluggish when they attack https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2023/02/immunometabolism-infections-disease-food-nutrition-treatment/672920/
Since antiquity, humans have been fascinated by birds' intercontinental migratory journeys. A new study from Lund University in Sweden shows that two areas in their genome decide whether a willow warbler flies across the Iberian Peninsula to western Africa, or across the Balkans to eastern and southern Africa. https://phys.org/news/2023-02-genes-willow-warbler-migration-routes.html
“Previous research has confirmed that effective blood pressure control is important for brain health. Our secondary analysis findings from SPRINT-MIND MRI suggest that intensive blood pressure control may be beneficial by reducing damage to the brain’s toxin and byproduct clearance pathway,” Kern said.
While the original SPRINT-MIND MRI study demonstrated that intensive blood pressure control may slow the accumulation of white matter hyperintensities, this substudy found that it may contribute to reversing the effects of high blood pressure on perivascular spaces. https://scienceblog.com/536329/536329/
The study recruited 231 federal office workers who wore multiple devices (around the neck or strapped on the chest) that assessed how sounds experienced in an indoor setting affects individual well-being.
It reveals that physiological well-being is optimal when sound level in the workplace is around 50 dBA https://medicalxpress.com/news/2023-02-effect-workplace-physiological-well-being-revealed.html
Everyone's favorite groundhog predicts 6 more weeks of winter https://www.noaa.gov/stories/everyones-favorite-groundhog-predicts-6-more-weeks-of-winter
GM to invest $650 million in Nevada lithium mine The deal is the largest investment by a carmaker in lithium mining https://cen.acs.org/energy/energy-storage/GM-invest-650-million-Nevada/101/i5
Building Off the "Anti-laser," a Device That Directs Waves Departments: Applied Physics
Building off a breakthrough “anti-laser,” a team of researchers has developed a system that can direct light and other electromagnetic waves for signal processing without any unwanted signal reflections - an innovation that could advance local area networks, the field of photonics, and other applications. https://seas.yale.edu/news-events/news/building-anti-laser-device-directs-waves
A sedentary lifestyle is basically a lifestyle where a person spends most of his/her time in one comfortable position and does not indulge in much physical activity. Medical experts claim that this kind of lifestyle has many sorts of health risks in general and increasing cancer cases are also reported which originate due to a sedentary lifestyle. In the past decade, the cases of obesity-related cancer have been on the rise and sitting, reclining, and lying down for hours at stretch is a new carcinogen, according to experts. https://www.livemint.com/science/health/how-sedentary-lifestyle-is-making-us-vulnerable-to-cancer-here-s-what-doctors-say-11675434660248.html
found that age-related accumulation of abdominal fat is associated with lower muscle density.
Low muscle density means that the muscle has more fat in it, which can lead to less effective muscle function that in turn may lead to more falls. According to the study, individuals with the greatest 6-year accumulation of visceral adipose tissue (VAT), found in the abdomen, had significantly lower muscle density. https://hms.harvard.edu/news/age-related-fat-may-impair-muscle-function
Yale honors the work of a 9-year-old Black girl whose neighbor reported her to police https://www.npr.org/2023/02/03/1154049233/yale-honors-9-year-old-black-girl-neighbor-reported-police-lanternfly
On Thursday, astronomers announced that they used NASA's Hubble Space Telescope to directly measure the mass of a star's corpse for the first time. But the kicker is that they did it by tapping into a mind-bending cosmic effect called gravitational microlensing, predicted by Albert Einstein's general relativity theory more than a century ago.
This Hubble achievement marks the very first time such an effect has been used to measure a single, isolated star other than our very own sun – ever. https://www.cnet.com/science/space/einsteins-general-relativity-helps-hubble-measure-a-dead-stars-mass/
Reuse and recycle Some businesses, artists and engineers are finding creative ways to reuse and recycle grounds. For example, companies in the United Kingdom are collecting coffee pulp and spent grounds to use in textiles, ink, aromatics, and biofuels. Coffee shops and manufacturers could partner with such companies to reuse their coffee waste.
Don't dump spent grounds or leftover drink down the sink Compost or dispose of grounds in the trash rather than send caffeine down the drain and into the wastewater system. https://phys.org/news/2023-02-downside-coffee-pollutes.html
Bird flu has jumped to foxes and otters, scientists have revealed.
The Animal and Plant Health Agency (Apha) found nine otters and foxes were among 66 mammals positive for highly pathogenic avian influenza (HPAI) H5N1, with some seals also infected.
It is thought that they had fed on dead or sick wild birds infected with the virus and there was "a very low likelihood of any widespread infection in GB mammals", Apha said. https://i.stuff.co.nz/world/uk/300798584/bird-flu-spreads-to-foxes-and-otters
Targeting Specific Lipid Metabolic Pathway Linked to Reduced Psoriasis Risk — Genetics study suggests potential for precision medicine approach with PCSK9 inhibitors https://www.medpagetoday.com/dermatology/psoriasis/102930
Conclusions
Greater adherence to an anti-diabetic and anti-inflammatory diet prior to diagnosis is associated with lower overall mortality among BC survivors. Long-term adherence to these dietary patterns could be a means to improve the prognosis of BC survivors. Breast cancer (BC) https://www.nature.com/articles/s41416-023-02169-2
The capsule contained the harmful radioactive substance caesium-137, which WA Health warned emitted the equivalent of 10 X-rays worth of radiation every hour to a person standing close to it. Easily enough to cause serious radiation sickness with prolonged exposure. ‘Needle in a haystack’: Search over after radioactive capsule found in WA outback
The public health risk was deemed low, but there were concerns the capsule may have lodged in someone’s tyre and gone on a merry journey to anywhere in the country. Worse still, the capsule could have been damaged and be leaking far more harmful levels of radiation into the environment. https://www.theage.com.au/national/western-australia/the-inside-story-of-how-wa-s-tiny-missing-radioactive-capsule-was-found-20230203-p5chlo.html
The health trend has gotten a bit ahead of the evidence. Most of the studies linking depression and the gut, for example, have been in animals and studies involving human participants have been small.
Still, the evidence thus far shows a link between the two.
In one noteworthy study, entitled Transferring the Blues, bacteria-free rats given faecal samples from humans diagnosed with major depression became anxious and disinterested in pleasurable activities. Their metabolism of tryptophan, a chemical connected to depression, changed. https://i.stuff.co.nz/life-style/wellbeing/300796613/the-link-between-our-food-gut-microbiome-and-depression
In 2009, Prince Albert II of Monaco asked experimental vehicle manufacturer Venturi to take a crack at designing an electric vehicle that could handle the harsh cold of Antarctica. Over the next 12 years, the company went to work. After testing out two full prototypes, the company pulled off a final product launch on June 1, 2021. The Venturi Antarctica, as the vehicle is called, has been transporting scientists and lab equipment in eastern Antarctica since December 2021. https://www.popsci.com/technology/venturi-antarctic-ev-repairs/
People genetically prone to cavities, missing teeth or needing dentures had a higher burden of silent cerebrovascular disease, as represented by a 24 per cent increase in the number of white matter hyperintensities visible on the MRI images.
Those with overall genetically poor oral health had increased damage to the fine architecture of the brain, as represented by a 43 per cent change in microstructural damage scores visible on the MRI scans. Microstructural damage scores are whole-brain summaries of the damage sustained by the fine architecture of each brain region.
"Poor oral health may cause declines in brain health, https://www.livemint.com/science/news/research-brain-health-can-decline-due-to-poor-oral-health-11675506828039.html
Documents show how 19 "Cop City" activists got charged with terrorism Georgia police are invoking a 2017 terrorism law against activists accused of little more than trespassing https://www.salon.com/2023/02/04/documents-show-how-19-cop-city-activists-got-charged-with-terrorism_partne
Caloric restriction increases the resistance of aged heart to myocardial ischemia/reperfusion injury via modulating AMPK–SIRT1–PGC1a energy metabolism pathway https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-023-27611-6
Our study thus not only provides the first important insights into the importance of the Ezrin protein for astrocyte function in our body, but also points to a possible way to achieve improved therapeutic outcome after a stroke if neuronal excitotoxicity - the injury and death of neurons induced by excessive glutamate accumulation - can be efficiently prevented." Further research will explore this possibility. https://www.news-medical.net/news/20230203/Researchers-discover-how-a-protein-deficiency-can-prepare-the-brain-to-minimize-damage-after-stress.aspx
A complex ecosystem forms
What they found would seem positively alien to most of us. In the damp, dark, acidic, uranium-filled environment, biofilms composed of microbes had taken over. Orange acidic “streamers” looking like long, thin worms lazily swayed in the liquid drainage channels. Brown and white stalactite-like slime communities oozed from the ceilings, creating the impression that the walls were melting. In this underground place — literally a radioactive wasteland — life was rampant. https://bigthink.com/life/strange-life-uranium-mine/
How often the feet hit the ground and at what angle can not only improve running efficiency, but potentially help prevent injury too. This is known as cadence — something that many of the best running watches now have the ability to track.
But what cadence is best? And is it possible for someone to change their running cadence? We looked at the science. https://www.livescience.com/what-is-cadence-in-running
Yet cash-in-hand work still makes up a significant proportion of economic activity in the UK. Some estimate that it is worth around 10% of GDP, or around £223 billion. And my research suggests that being paid in cash can have a positive role in redistributing wealth and providing formal job opportunities.
I spoke to employees and business owners involved with cash-in-hand work in various enterprises, including car washes, hairdressers, electricians and garage mechanics. What they told me backed up other evidence which suggests that undeclared work is often the result of "need not greed." https://phys.org/news/2023-02-cash-vital-career-poverty.html
But the global space industry is growing rapidly, with an increasing number of annual rocket launches. As we show in our new review, the gases and particulates rockets emit as they punch through the atmosphere could lead to delays in the ozone layer's recovery.
Rocket fuel emissions are not regulated
The launch industry today relies on four major fuel types for rocket propulsion: liquid kerosene, cryogenic, hypergolic and solid. The combustion of these fuels means contemporary rockets create a suite of gaseous and particulate exhaust products, including carbon dioxide, water vapor, black carbon, alumina, reactive chloride and nitrogen oxides. These products are known to destroy ozone. https://phys.org/news/2023-02-rocket-industry-undo-decades-ozone.html
Previous scientific evidence suggests that dogs do not recognize themselves in the mirror, Bunny's debatable case aside. But while dogs are still up for debate, there are eight animals that scientists say have passed the mirror test. That suggests that these animals are among the most self-aware of all species on Earth, and may be humans' peers from an intelligence standpoint. https://www.salon.com/2023/02/03/8-smart-animals-mirror-test/
The green-fleshed kiwifruits showed the highest content of pectin compared with the red- and yellow-fleshed kiwifruits. The green-fleshed kiwifruits, such as A. eriantha had the highest chlorophyll a content, chlorophyll b content and total carotenoid content. The green- and yellow-fleshed kiwifruits with low energy and carbohydrates were suitable for people with "three highs" and poor stomachs.
Red-fleshed kiwifruits had the highest sugar:acid ratio and total flavonoid content, giving them a particularly sweet flavor and a bright red color. However, the energy and carbohydrate contents were much higher in red-fleshed kiwifruits, and the lipid and dietary fiber contents were lower in red-fleshed kiwifruits than yellow- and green-fleshed kiwifruits. VE and VB1 contents were higher in red-fleshed kiwifruits. Moreover, 1-pentanol, trans-2-hexen-1-ol, n-hexane and styrene were only presented in red-fleshed kiwifruits.
Principle component analysis revealed that... https://phys.org/news/2023-02-untangles-physicochemical-nutritional-qualities-kiwifruit.html
A team of researchers at the University of Pennsylvania has inserted human neurons into the brains of rats with damaged visual cortices, New Scientist reports, a Frankensteinian experiment that had some astonishing results.
The researchers had removed parts of the rats' visual cortices, meaning that their ability to see was significantly impaired, but thanks to the "blobs" of lab-grown neurons inserted into these damaged sections — not unlike a brain plug — some of these areas were able to spring back to life. https://futurism.com/neoscope/blobs-human-brain-implanted-rat-brains

I delivered at 39 + 3 At 3 cm dilated I asked for an epidural, the anesthesiologist ended up wet tapping me SIX times. No one told me I was wet tapped, let alone six times, or what an epidural headache was. In fact, the L&D nurse that next morning started me on 30mg Percocet and told me the pain I was feeling in my head was a pinched nerve and I needed to schedule an appointment with a chiropractor. I ended up being discharged from one hospital, sitting at home for about 6 hours in excruciating pain, and finally going to a hospital about an hour away. I was admitted for 48 hours at this hospital for observation. I had a team of 7 doctors -including an infectious disease specialist- and multiple tests done to be sure I didn't have an infection in my spine, once my tests came back I was able to have a blood patch done to "plug" the holes in my epidural space that were causing the headache. My issue now is 3 days after being discharged, I have the worst tension headache, to the point where I can't wash my hair, I can't stand up for longer than 30 seconds before my head starts pounding. My daughter is already a week old and I haven't been able to do anything beyond laying flat and holding her. I can't make her a bottle, I can't change her diaper, I can't enjoy what's suppose to be the happiest time of mine and my partners life. Anyone who might've dealt with something like this before, please let me know. I'm at my wits end and I feel like a complete failure of a parent.
Also, I'm still bleeding pretty heavily. I did have to go into surgery 20 minutes after delivering my daughter for a placenta abruption.

Drugs ain’t it. Percs. Oxy. Codeine. Etc. This shit kills. And if it doesn’t kill you physically, it’ll kill every bit of joy you have in life over time. The only thing worse then actually dying is losing everything around you and killing your spirits. If you, or a friend is struggling with drug use and addiction. Please, get help before it’s too late.
Even if a friend seems completely happy with their usage. Like nothings wrong. Don’t kid yourself. What’s shown on the outside doesn’t always reflect what’s in. I say this because I’m going through it myself.
I have been addicted to Percocets for the past year and a half. I’m 23. Only recently was it found out by my friends and loved ones when I took it too far and had a meltdown. Came close to OD’ing too. I’ve torn my life apart. Taking leave off work, having my family walk away. The only support I had was the few friends I felt comfortable sharing with and maybe my mother. But even then. Every lie, every time I would relapse and hide my usage, the weight of the guilt was unbearable. It’s defeating. I slipped up last night, choosing the worst person I possibly could for a plug. Hurting not only myself, but my girl. And I have nobody to blame but myself.
This shit isn’t a joke. It’s a living hell. You wake up fixated on what you’re going to do to get more. The only way out is dealing with the withdrawals cold, or with medication. Or, taking it too far and losing your life. It harms your mental health. Your body. Your loved ones and overall well-being. What starts off as an escape quickly turns into a fight. This shit is a gamble. And with things like the “one can kill” campaign, it speaks volumes on how risky this shit is.
Look out for eachother. Love eachother. Advocate for a better future. It’s never too late to get help. You are loved. And theirs always somebody out there meant for you.
Tell tale signs of drug usage: dialated pupils, sudden weight loss or gain, slurred speech, secretive behaviour or frequent trips to private spots like the bathroom, dissociating from friends at gatherings, frequent rubbing of the nose.
So many sources are available online for help with getting clean. And of course we have our Live Free 999 source.
If you’re worried someone’s going to commit suicide or hurt themselves:
Call 988 in the US, Call 18334564566 in Canada.
For everywhere else, here’s a useful link: https://blog.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines/
Please get help and love yourself. Juice knew the pains and suffering involved with this type of lifestyle. And nobody deserves to go through it alone.

Can’t believe I’m writing this, naturally. My fiancé has a troubled father who has a wild past of: violence, drugs, and partying.
He’s now 63 and sitting with many significant medical problems:
poor circulation, depression, egregious nicotine/ cig addiction, blood clot disorder, hepc, potentially lung disease, and currently he’s been dealing with lots of pain in his legs so he’s on morphine (with history of addiction this is a terrible idea IMO)
The morphine along with the unsubscribed Percocet he’s been taking have really plugged him up (if you know what I mean).
All of these things combined with the facts that he lost his job, lost his girlfriend (because he kicked her out), and now recently the death of one of his dearest friends who he drank coffee with every day, he quickly became suicidal this past week.
Apparently, he told more than 1 person that he was planning to take a bunch of his pills to end all his pain.
Friday night, he knew my fiancé and I were coming to meet him for lunch (we live 6 hours away), so he thought he would save us another trip down to see him and deemed killing himself and having us find him was the best decision.
He overdosed on his morphine and whatever else and called us the next morning and told us what he did. I promptly drove over there and took him to the hospital against my wishes of having an ambulance rush to him first. Supposedly he took 10-40 pills of what was supposed to be a once every 12 hour pill for his leg pain.
When I got to him, I fully expected to need to do cpr or that he would shoot himself to finish the job. Luckily, he was awake but extremely out of it and confused due to all the drugs.
I got him into the car and took him to the nearest emergency room where we checked him in and he currently resides in the psych ward being monitored.
All this happened completely unexpectedly for us and we are still dealing with the developing situation. I feel so bad for him and for my fiancé and I also feel so angry at him for being so fucking selfish to do this to us and his family.
He still clearly seems to not feel sorry for what he’s done and stands by his decision making on the account of the pain he’s in physically (hasn’t gone to the bathroom in a week) and mentally.
One part of me knows I did the right thing by taking him to the hospital. The other part of me understands this man(63) wants to die badly due to his state and it’s making me question the philosophical side of someone owning the right to take their own life. This is a very challenging mental debate I’ve been having with myself.
I’ve dealt with many traumatic incidents in my firefighting career and home life with my brother being sick with cancer for over 10 years, but this is a real mind bender for me and very much so for my fiancé.
I have many things to be grateful for in my life right now and have been so happy and upbeat. This has really put a damper on things to say the least and I’m just coming to grips with the trauma of this ongoing incident.
Thanks for reading into my weekend, it was cathartic to write this out. Any feedback or comparison of stories is encouraged. (No need to say sorry or anything - the situation sucks, but it’s real and it’s happened and now I’m trying to figure how to move forward.)
TLDR:
Fiancé’s father tried to kill himself by overdose and planned for us to find him. He is still alive and now angry that he’s in the psych ward.

Update: a dose of miralax, 2 Colace pills, and chugging a Powerade seems to have gotten things moving again. Now I just have to deal with unloading over a week's worth of backup...
I made a post almost a week ago about not having had a BM since Sunday and trying to get the pipes clear before my surgery on Wednesday. Well... I wasn't able to induce a BM before Wednesday, but I was kinda hoping the buildup would encourage a post-op BM sooner.
No such luck. It's now been over a week since my last BM. I've already messaged my doctor about it and am waiting on a call back, but the thing is...I don't feel constipated? I've been eating solid food since Wednesday night, along with fiber bars, fiber gummies, licorice tea, and stool softeners. On Friday I tried to use a Fleet glycerin suppository, which I could feel making the muscles do the thing, but all that came out was a lot of gas and a bit of matter. And I have been passing gas this whole time - I can feel the bubbles shift around as they're trying to find the exit. I'm not in any pain - I took my last Percocet and Motrin combo at 10 last night, and nothing since then. Mostly I just feel a little bloated and uncomfortable. I don't feel "plugged up," and I don't have the urge to go.
I'm gonna snack on some prunes while I wait for the doc to call me back, but if anybody has any insight at all as to what the heck is going on, I'd appreciate it!

Fuck.
This is another one of those mumbo jumbo depression posts, so if that's not your cup of tea I oblige you to visit the next post as I don't want to put a dark spot on your day if it's going well 😊
If you're still here then buckle up, we've got some catching up to do. I'd like to tell you a story that covers 4 years of time, in no peticular order, and if you're still here by the end of it, then I want to hear your thoughts and recommendations. I'm pretty damn well lost in life and I can feel myself losing my grap on reality more and more on a daily basis, so some of these messages might go on as psychotic rambling and apologize for that.
2018- I made a post detailing my first real suicide attempt on this forum, detailing many of the things that led me up to the decision. This attempt let to being addmited to a psychiatric ward in a hospital intended for people who need rehabilitation for drug use, which I did not have a problem with at the time. The only substances I did take were Marijuana, light alcohol, and nicotine; with the exception of medically prescribed medication used to treat depression, anxiety, and adhd. I also took beta blockers that were used to treat a misdiagnosed heart condition (they ended up worsening the problem). In the hospital I met a lot of addicts of different substances, ranging from meth and crack, to heroine, to pills, and to psychedelics (he was fucking nuts). Layman's terms, I quickly got in with the wrong group. This is where i fell in love with Xanax and acid. Very quickly in, the guys/girl introduced me to a flurry of different drugs, so much so that at one point I stood up from our game of spades and told them to find a filler, as I was going to go to my bed to "go lay down and die." One of them stood up to high five me, walked me back to my bed, shut off the lights, and everything since feels like a fever dream.
2019- Idk
2020- Idk
2021- Idk
2022- That's this year right?
Upon leaving the hospital I knew with every fiber of my being that I am either already dead, or on a very fast road to it. I have no idea how many or what drugs I've taken since, I have no idea how or if I'm actually even still alive, and I have no idea how to get help. Once I got out I started hanging out with another bad group and regularly took shrooms and dropped acid. I wish I could tell you how much I've taken. They weren't into pills so I never really got back into them (until recently). I'm pretty sure there were some other wack ass substances I did with them but I'd be fucked to actually remember half the shit we did. The amount of alcohol and psychedelics I took alone were enough to drive a well experienced psychonought mad. At the time I thought "this is great, nothing could go wrong", until everything came crashing down with one bad experience.
"5.5 grams of golden teachers. How could that go wrong? I've taken 3 grams of much crazier shit before and that was awesome!"
5.5 grams... For breakfast... With people I've never tripped with... In a place I've never tripped... While smoking an ounce... While still being on zoloft, an SSRI... Did I mention we blended them up as a smoothie with every citrus known to man in an effort to have the most potent experience possible?
I was not ok after that experience. This was 2 years ago, and I am still not comfortable explaining everything that happened that day. I left with blood pouring out of both my eyeballs from scratching down my face and eyes, completely destroying the blood vessles on the way down. This still did not deter me from taking another 2 acid trips. One of which I physically climbed up parts of the Appalachian mountains and blasted off with dmt.
I do not know what happened on that mountain.
I will never choose to think about the horrors I experienced there.
I have never touched psychedelics since.
Shortly after this, my inner druggie got the best of me and I started taking Xanax/percocet pretty regularly, but my plugs all dropped off and the household supply ran out, so I quit. For about the past year and a half I've just been "sober". This excludes COPIOUS amounts of pot, and a ramping up dependency on alcohol. Nothing more, nothing less.
At this point you've been given enough context to formulate an opinion about me, however I'd like to take this moment to set give some insight on my standings with life. I might have a very intense struggle with substance abuse, but believe-you-me, I am no sore loser. I work damn hard for everything I've got and I have very large aspirations with very high goals. I am going to school to be an aircraft mechanic, and I currently am a forklift driver. I show up on time every day, and I get my job done right the first time everytime. I never EVER smoke or drink before or during my shift and I make a very firm statement when I say I never will. I am damn good at what I do, no matter what the field is because that's what I was raised to do.
Still here? I owe you a cookie, thanks for stickin around bucko
Where were we? Ah yes, being "sober" for the past year and a half is growing increasingly hard. I've been getting r***d by my job, and I don't put that lightly. I do not like that word, but there is no other word that I can use to accurately represent the harassment, mistreatment, and ever growing work load for $14.50 an hour. I would describe the job but the shipping industry can be obnoxious. Terms like SLWSI, ADHOC, BYPASS Custom Critical, and others can be a lot to digest. Many ask, why don't I just leave then? With all do respect, I did NOT learn all that shit for nothing. And on top of that, helping tesla, spaceX, DOW chemical, and hospitals ship organs to save patients is way more fulfilling than flipping patties for an extra dollar an hour.
So what's the problem? I love what I do, I hate the people I do it for. Not too bad, but I also barely make enough to get by and my car is falling apart. So I've opted to trade all of my spare time to be there, leaving absolutely no room for friendships or relationships. I've also been forced to move over 30 minutes away from my job with a failing car, all because my father was asking for rent when I had -$500. Apperently "my bank declined your rent dad" isn't a good enough answer. So, up and away I go to my mother's, away from everyone I know. I haven't had a relationship in over a year, and I'm sure you can connect the dots on my sex life with it. I'm not happy to admit it but it does effect a person self value and motivation to keep struggling through the same daily monotony when also depriving ones self of their primitive drive. Factor in school, and you've got a recipe for psychological disaster when balancing an already defunct mind that has tendencies to relapse into substance abuse, with an arbitrarily long 10 hour work day, with aviation school, with zero free time for self reflection or improvement. Fuck, I don't even have enough money to pay for my school book.
You might be wondering if I'm still suicidal. My unfortunate answer is that I never stopped being that way and I wish it wasnt the case. I've attempted many times, and I feel numb. I've mentally degraded to the point that I don't know if one of my attempts succeeded and this is the after life, or if this fever dream of bullshit is actually real.
I'm trapped in my own mind and I want out.
I've got an appointment with my doctor next Monday. I've run out of my adhd medication and I did not realize how sane it's keeping me. I've been thinking about asking my doctor for a prescription for Xanax as it can help with the overbearing pressure I feel everyday, but I'm afraid to build an addiction to it. There is a 100% chance it will form a dependency, but I feel like it might enough to help me keep my cool and get through it. I don't know if that's my inner druggie that I've suppressed though, as I don't intend to take them to get high. If your worried about overdose, I literally own a gun. I'm not sure how I passed a background check but I guess 3 years is enough for suicide attempt. If I cared enough to actually go through with it I would have many times by now. Putting it bluntly, I will never pull the trigger, but God damn it would make my day if someone else did. Make no mistakes, I do not enjoy life, but at this point I've gone through 22 years of it and I've proven to myself that I don't have the balls to end it.
I've been sitting here trying to find a reason to type this message for whoever may be reading it and after literally 2 hours I have finally figured it out.
This message isn't for you, it's for me. There are no questions to ask because I'm just venting. I guess you could say I'm "getting this off my chest" but that's a little too on the nose for this sub reddit and I think that humor sucks. If you've read through this, I'm planning on getting my doctors opinion on the whole Xanax thing. She's got an 8 year degree so I'm sure she understands more than I do. I plan on reading the comments so let me know any thoughts or questions you might have. I'm not big into reddit but I've recently discovered a YouTube channel where a really nice sounding brittish guy reads people's stories, and I realized that a lot of people have some very relatable experiences. If you've got a story that is relatable feel free to share it, I'd love to read some other people's life experiences (keep in mind I typed for two hours straight without double checking my work. There's like 40 stories worth if I went into detail on literally anything)

This happened to me years ago, and a reply by u/Antnee83 in an Ask Reddit thread made me remember it and finally take the time to write it down. No throwaways, tho I may live to regret that.. this is all me.
It all started with a herniated disc, which left me completely incapacitated. I made liberal use of percocets acquired from a previous similar injury over the first few days to cause constipation (the toilet was just not a possibility, I was literally crawling on the floor and peeing sideways into a cup for about a week). Sitting for any length of time (let alone reaching behind me to clean up) was just not something I was physically capable of at that point, and I'll be honest I lived in fear of that moment during this time.
Short term solutions can cause longer term problems, though, and I ended up being constipated for almost a full month. It was increasingly awful every fucking day, I could feel myself getting larger and more swollen and compressed and uncomfortable. I also increasingly tried over the counter fiber and laxatives to no avail, by then it was a few weeks in and far too late.
On about day 25 or so, I went to a walk in clinic, truly desperate, and they took pity on me, said "you're just lucky Dr. Chang isn't here" (I gathered from the nurse that his usual solution was to perform an enema right there and then on the table, which sounded embarrassing and miserable). They gave me a prescription for some incredibly powerful laxative, and Dr Gonzo style urged me to only use a tiny amount - "no matter how long it takes, don't get desperate and make a bad decision -- one dose is plenty". It was a clear liquid, and tasted sweet, like corn syrup.
Heh. I took a second full dose after like 12 hours. A few more hours passed. I begrudgingly (simultaneously stuffed and hungry) ate dinner (salad and more fiber crackers). I considered (at least a partial) third dose, which was sheer and utter madness, but by then I couldn't think straight and just wanted it out of me.
And then.. Shortly after.. As we were going to bed to watch a movie and go to sleep... The muse struck me, a sudden emergency punch right to the gut. It was an immediate, urgent run to the bathroom... I almost didn't make it... Pants down, ass in the bowl, not a moment to spare as a massive, hard "plug" -- a giant, packed fecal bullet, practically fired out of my poor, stretched, gaping asshole, followed by a month's worth of searing hot liquid poison. I picture myself shouting "HOT! HOT! HOT!" Randy Marsh style as it happened, but I can't say for sure that's what went down. I do remember desperately grabbing onto the towel racks and whatever else I could find for dear life as my insides attempted to escape with the velocity of a fighter jet. This lasted for what seemed like an eternity, and when my bowels were finally empty, I was a sweaty, crying, relieved, exhausted mess of a person, and the bowl was completely full to the point that I was very scared to flush.
I have never felt better than I did after a shower after that experience... Crawling back until bed, under the covers.. Entire body tingling... Empty at last.. I slept for like 12 hours, and have never taken another percocet since.
TL;DR: fucked up my back, took percocets to plug up my insides, which was at first a major relief but I soon discovered it was a major mistake. Ended up taking what I can only describe as prescription grade turbo lax, and did a full Randy Marsh.

I'm so grateful for this community as it's the only reason I didn't feel entirely lost and isolated as I stared down the barrel of what was coming my way, so I wanted to contribute my experience.
I tracked my physical experience pretty carefully, including medication and the pain scale (1-10 where 10 worst pain possible) throughout. I understand every experience can vary greatly, but this level of detail tends to bring me comfort and I hope maybe it will help someone else.
Pain Scale Reference Image
Duration of experience: about 3 weeks from diagnosis to no longer spotting after miscarriage

• took 4 days to start spotting after diagnosis
• then 8 days of bleeding a period-like flow, included larger clots than I ever see with my usual cycle and two days of heavier bleeding than I see with my usual cycle
• then 6 days of spotting after miscarriage completed

--STORY--
Monday before Thanksgiving: At my 8 week scan I measured 6w2d and my progesterone levels had plummeted outside of first trimester ranges. HCG was over 9,000 but my progesterone result meant the writing was on the wall. I was told to expect a heavy period and that it would all go into motion soon (no spotting or other indications of something wrong at this point). Because of the holiday upcoming I was prescribed Percocet just in case, but ultimately avoided using it.
Tuesday-Thursday (Thanksgiving): mild cramping (1-2 on pain scale) but no spotting
Friday: *Spotting begins* I began spotting and per doctor's orders went to ER for the Rhogam shot, as I am Rh- blood type); ER experience was an awful 5.5hr nightmare of invasive testing. ER wouldn't give me rhogam without typing my blood themselves, performing a pelvic exam and extended transvaginal ultrasound to confirm what my gyn already told me. Silver lining: I will advocate better for myself in the future and refuse unecessary tests.
Saturday: *Cramping increases* Spotting and cramping slightly more painful (2-3 on pain scale) and began taking 2 Advil every 4-6 hours on Saturday AM. I also have a plug-in heat pack and used this throughout to help manage cramping pain
Sunday-Monday: *Light flow* A "flow" of bleeding begins and I would consider it light bleeding on these days, cramping pain similar to Saturday (2-3/10)
Tuesday(8 days after diagnosis): *Worst pain day* - 2-6pm: Moderate cramping (3-4/10 pain) and medium flow - 6-7pm: Intensifying cramping and bleeding; 5-7/10 pain at this time. - 7pm - took 3 Advil (600mg) to address pain - 8pm - took 2 extra strength Tylenol (1000mg), pain was 7/10 and Advil didn't seem to be tamping it down enough. I used our theragun (massage gun) on a few different parts to help distract from pain and it helped the tiniest bit - 8:30pm - Passed an extra large and dense blood clot - 6-8pm - blood flow was heavier than any period I have ever had, but not beyond the saturating more than one pad* an hour that would raise concerns for a hemmorhage. - *I'd bought the maximum absorbency heavy period pads by Always brand)
Wednesday: *Another high pain day* - 1am: took 3 Advil, pain was currently 2-3/10 but anticipated prior dose losing effectiveness while sleeping - 1:30pm: took 2 Advil - pain 3/10 - 3:00pm: took 1 Colace (I realized I hadn't had a BM in the last 24hrs, had the urge but couldn't go) - 7pm: 2 Advil - pain 4-6/10 - 8pm: 2 Extra strength Tylenol - 7-9pm: Flow and pain ramped up between 7-9pm (up to 6/10) almost as heavy as Tuesday night.
Thursday: *"That's it then."* Pain ranged 2-4/10 - 3am - 2 Advil - 4pm - 2 Advil - 7:20pm - 2 Tylenol
I woke on Thursday in no pain, but still bleeding a medium flow. I sat down to pee and passed something larger and denser than any blood clot I'd ever seen. I was stunned that it was painless, just the sensation of something significant falling out of me. It was mostly red/bloody but there was also gray and white tissue; in my head I said "that must be it then." Baby would've been way, way smaller than what I expelled here, but I thought he/she was in there somewhere. I was later advised by my gyn that I'd passed something called a decidual cast, which is basically all of the uterine lining coming out in one go. This was a very, very rough day emotionally but Tuesday and Wednesday were my worst days physically.
Friday: mild cramping (up to 3 on pain scale) and medium flow bleeding
Saturday-Sunday: light flow and mild cramps (1-2/10 pain)
Monday (2 weeks after MMC diagnosis): I visited my gyn where they confirmed my miscarriage was complete and my cervix was closed. Tested my HCG levels (result: 492) and was also cleared to have sex again when ready. It was recommended we use at least withdrawal method until HCG level was zero, as my gyn was concerned if my HCG suddenly rises it will be hard to determine if something was still lingering from my miscarriage or if newly pregnant. I'll test again this coming week to see if my levels have dropped.
I spotted from that Monday to the following Monday, with a few instances where there amount of spotting varied instead of progressively getting lighter; I was frustrated and confused thinking "will this ever stop?!"...but it did.
I was ultimately glad my body initiated the process within a few days of learning of my MMC or I might have pursued another option (medical or D&C). I did at one point think if I go through this ever again and am further along in pregnancy this method has potential to be more distressing, considering I may need to brace myself to see something recognizable as my baby. I was also fortunate to be able take time from work to let myself process this both physically and emotionally. I did so much sleeping! The grief still comes in waves and initially I was exhausted just thinking about trying again, but I'm at the point where I'm looking forward to the chance.
Edits: to fix formatting errors on mobile

It wasn’t some hardened criminal, or a scary looking skinhead or a bad ass gangster. It was a little old woman, but she was a legit killer. She’d shot her husband in the chest with a shotgun 2 years prior to me meeting her. She did not do any jail time because she had numerous witnesses that had confirmed her story of self defense. The rumor around the hood told a different tale but regardless, she had truly killed a man and the shotgun that leaned in the corner of her foyer was probably the murder weapon.
Anyway, I met this woman at the height of my drug addiction. I’m sober now, going on 6 years, but at the time I did opioids. My favorites were percocets. A fellow junkie happily informed me that we had a promising new plug who sold her 70 pill prescription each month, Miss Coco. I go to the address the very next day and realize this woman lived only a few streets down from my home girl Selena. I stopped by her place first to say hi. When she asked me why I was in the neighborhood I told her I was coming to see Miss coco and her expression changed. That’s when i learned not only the story of the murder, but a bunch of other crazy stories about shit she’d done to people in the hood. Selena begged me to be careful. I’m like, whatever, it’s an old woman. I ain’t scared. I slide over to the address of this little shotgun house and knocked on the door. She was supposed to be expecting me. The door cracked barely open and I saw how short and old she was. All I could really see was a slice of her face and one of her bloodshot eyes. She asked my name, I told her and she opened the door for me, motioning for me to enter. Right away I saw the gun leaned in the corner. She told me to follow her and I finally got a real good look. She was so feeble looking, not skinny, but short and hunched over and walked with a cane. Her head was wrapped in a silk bonnet and she was wearing something like a moo-moo. Diabetes had taken part of her left foot. We’re in the living room now and she asked me to sit down. I chose the only empty spot on the couch, the entire house was cluttered, but not dirty. Suddenly, an oddly placed rug on otherwise bare floors made me wonder how hard it was to get blood out of wooden floorboards. Did Selena say she actually killed that guy in HERE? She offered me a drink and a snack. She looked at me with surprisingly kind eyes. What a strange drug deal I thought, but how sweet of her! I remember thinking Selena was foolish for buying into all the hood tales of how dangerous this woman was. I drank a soda, declined a snack, and purchased her entire script of pain pills. She’ll be getting it filled again on the same day next month, she informed me. Ok, great, see you then! I returned on a routine schedule for several months, always drank a soda, declined a snack, and went happily on my merry, intoxicated way. I even got to know her a bit during my visits, her diabetes, her kids, how helpful weed was for her pain. I brought her a joint to share here and there. I even helped her move some furniture one day. Never a mention of her late husband though, and I wasn’t going to ask. I had long forgotten any sort of wild ideas about this old, sweet woman possibly snapping at any moment.
One summer month, it was my day to go to Miss Coco’s. My boy Shayn was with me already so I decided to let him ride along. We show up, go inside, same routine as always. She looked at him somewhat suspiciously, but I told her he was good people and she allowed him in. During our little chat, Shayn mentioned something about wanting to see a movie that had just come out. I cannot for the life of me remember which movie. Miss coco got excited and told us she happened to have a bootleg of that exact movie that we could borrow! She let us look through a giant stack of bootleg, burned DVDs and borrow whatever we wanted. We took 3 of them and she simply asked that we return them when we were done. That night we decided to watch the one Shayn had wanted to see, so we popped it into the player at my place. Immediately it was unwatchable. It seriously looked like a cell phone video. You could see people in the theater walking around in front of the screen, the guy filming was talking loudly to his date the entire time. Garbage. We laughed about it, assumed the other 2 were just as bad and watched something else. A few days later I was going to hang with Selena, so I figured I’d swing by and return the DVDs to Miss Coco. I tried calling, but she didn’t answer. I walked up to the doorstep and knocked, but still no answer. I figure, no big deal, I’ll just leave em here by the door for her. She had a storm door that had a screen on the top half, and was solid metal on the bottom half. I opened that door, propped the shitty DVDs up against her actual door, and then closed it. That way they couldn’t be seen, and were protected from the weather as well. I go on to Selena’s place and don’t give it a second thought. Later that night I’m gettin high with my friends and my phone starts ringing. I’m seriously faded so I just decide to ignore it, I don’t feel like talking. It rings again. And again. Finally my homie is like you gonna answer that? So I pulled out my phone to check it. It was Miss Coco. She never calls me. Ever. Especially not late at night. Having her number in my phone was strictly for the purpose of me calling her on the 12th of each month to announce what time I’m coming over. That’s it. Today was only the 9th. I thought maybe something bad had happened and she needed help! I called back and she picked up before it even rang one time. She was FURIOUS. I mean absolutely livid. She did not sound like the little old lady who’s couch I chill on. She was extremely pissed about the fact that I had left her DVDs in the door. She lectured me about how a dumb ass White person like me just doesn’t understand how things work in the hood. Someone could’ve seen me leave them there, and could’ve come behind me and stolen them! I should’ve waited until she was home. I was disrespectful and rude and ungrateful, she went on and on. I didn’t have an attitude in my voice, and I did apologize, but I also mentioned that even though I appreciated the gesture, the movies were really pretty terrible and not worth anything. Abruptly, and very eerily, her tone changed. Suddenly she was sweet old Miss Coco again. She told me I was right and she was just a little on edge that night. She apologized for her reaction and told me I was good to her and didn’t deserve that. Then, she says, as a matter of fact, shed gotten her script early this month! She picked it up earlier today. Why don’t i come on over and get it tonight? Now, any sane, sober person would’ve immediately noticed red flags here, but in my infinite nodded-out wisdom, I thought junkie jesus had performed a miracle for me and that my night was about to get even better. Time to get extra faded bros, I’ll be back with more goodies ASAP! I head off down the street to Coco’s house.
I’m still very, very high. I’m walking up to the house and I see that the DVDs are still there. Coco opens the door before I even get on the step and tells me to pick up the movies and bring them inside. Her voice was stern, which was unlike her, but she didn’t sound crazy like she had on the phone. I bring them into the living room where I always go to sit, and something is just … off. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I realize she’s still behind me, in the foyer area. She starts telling me the same things she was saying on the phone, but calmly this time. My back is still to her. I don’t say a word. I set the DVDs onto a side table and despite being extremely inebriated, finally realize that I’m definitely not here to pick up pills. A temporary sobriety of the survival-instinct-variety kicked in all at once. Everything just sort of, clicked, into such a clear, crisp vividness that I’ll never forget. I knew she was standing exactly where the shotgun leans. I knew she was between me and the door. I knew that she wanted to kill me, and I knew that she already had a whole gang of local folk ready to corroborate whatever story she came up with. Every single detail that Selena had described to me the day she warned me about Miss Coco played through my mind in a matter of seconds. I ran. I burst out the back of the living room, knocking over that stack of fucking bullshit bootlegs as I scrambled past it. I’ll be honest, once I had found my way out the back door, I wasn’t that scared anymore. It’s not like she was going to catch me. I circled back around the tiny house and took off down the street, probably before she even managed to hobble around and look out of the front door for me. I never did see if she actually picked up the gun. My back was to her, and I made the decision to run without even turning around, but I just KNEW. It. I felt it. It was a feeling I won’t soon forget. The scary part was knowing just how absolutely mind numbingly high I was, and how oblivious I was, until the very last second. And that’s the story about how I was almost taken out by a crazy little old lady with a shotgun, over the worlds shittiest bootleg DVDs. Makes you wonder what small infraction her late husband committed….
Yes, this is a true story and I have lots more drug-fueled, wild encounters if any of you would like to hear more.

Maybe, just maybe, this is a little far-fetched. Maybe I am crazy. However, regardless of my mental stability or my fitness as a father, I have a theory and some papers to back it up:
Playboi Carti has had a monumental impact on the most recent generation of rap. His self-titled album was in the upper echelon of rap music released in the year 2017 and it is hard to deny his influence at that time. Die Lit! was arguably another great project, however, this release had more critics, likely as a consequence of a much larger mainstream following. More recently, we have seen how things have changed dramatically in light of his most recent project, Whole Lotta Red.
People could probably write entire books on the sick, twisted shit going on in this dude's mind that made him make the music that he decided to include on that project.
The disharmony, the chaos, the screams. It still haunts me.
But that is not what I am here to talk about. I wanted to dive a little deeper into his outward-facing personality and the changes that we saw occur as members of the public, outsiders looking in, trying to understand the inner-workings of his mind.
His appearance, his fashion sense, his tone of voice. We have all seen a tangible shift in his demeanor that has arguably made him appear and act more androgynously. His character's evolution from an archetypical street thug into a sort of "femboy" has been bizarre, to say the least. I do not mean this in a derogatory way at all, I am trying to discuss this objectively. It's 2021, you should be able to do whatever the hell you want, wear what you want, I am all for that but this seems to be a strange shift in behavior.
I wondered if there was an explanation. Maybe, there was some reason that this was occurring. Maybe, it was not that his jeans were magically getting tighter or he had always been this way and was just waiting to have a large enough platform to express himself without having to care about what other people think. Maybe, there was an environmental factor.
Social factors could not be completely ruled out but, considering the many popular personas in the rap game, very few big names shared these attributes. I pondered as his ad libs chimed over my broke ass iPhone speakers and wondered if the answer to my questions were in his music.
Then, it hit me. As if Playboi Carti said it to my face personally. One word set me on track to uncovering this mystery once and for all.
LEAN
Lean, as most of you are familiar with, is a mixture of codeine/promethazine cough syrup and soda.
Codeine is an opiate, which is a family of drugs that naturally occur in the opium poppy Papaver Somniferum, They are best known for their painkilling, sedative, and euphoric properties as well as their capacity to cause fatal respiratory depression in the event of an overdose.
If you are familiar with Playboi Carti's music, you know very well that he is an avid fan of this class of drugs. The mention of opiate and opioid drugs are commonplace in his music, most commonly discussing the use of codeine and oxycodone (mention brand names like Wockhardt, Actavis, Percocet, OxyContin).
Arguments could be made that his drug use is played up for the sake of entertainment but there is a mounting body of evidence that he has had a long-standing relationship with these drugs. Videos from his early years living with Fredo Santana depict him heavily intoxicated, reportedly mixing lean and Xanax frequently (and his music videos seem to tell a similar story). More recently, he was arrested with another individual after deputies discovered 12 bags of marijuana, three guns, Xanax, codeine and oxycodone in their car.
Now, why is his drug use of any relevance? Well, this is where I get to teach y'all something.
Opiates/opioids, even in therapeutic doses, are powerful drugs with the ability to cause massive and sudden changes in your neurochemistry and endocrine systems (the system responsible for hormone production and secretion). It would be beyond my grasp to try and explain the many ways hormones affect living organisms and the role they play in our bodies, however, there are a couple things worthy of note:
Hormones represent what makes females different from males. Generally, females and males have the same hormones (i.e., estrogens, progesterone, and testosterone), but their production sites, their blood concentrations, and their interactions with different organs, systems, and apparatus are different. Males produce predominantly testosterone from the testes in a relatively constant daily amount according to a circadian profile. Small amounts of estrogens and progesterone are produced by the testes and the adrenal glands or are produced in the peripheral tissues, such as adipose tissue or liver, by the conversion of other precursor hormones
nexaklop wtf does this have to do with Playboi Carti?
Opiates really mess with testosterone! If you read any Opioid Addiction Recovery forum like OpiatesRecovery, you will hear dozens of people discuss the treatment of their reduced testosterone levels. There is also scientific literature that has identified these trends in hormonal suppression. This can lead to all sorts of changes in fertility, libido, psychological and physical ramifications. It can mess you up proper and, depending on your age, your body may not ever be able to fully recover. Just read about all the whack stuff that happens when you encounter reduced testosterone levels.
Add newfound wealth into the equation and a network of people who are likely very skilled in the acquisition of drugs and Playboi Carti could have very well had a virtually never-ending stream of opiate drugs. A cash runway is all any addict would need to spiral completely out of control into seemingly inescapable physical dependency. His candor regarding the subject and his occasional shoutouts to his plug leading into the release of WLR leads me to believe that this could have very well been the case.
In summation, Playboi Carti's recent shift to a more effeminate style and demeanor may be a consequence of his long-standing addiction to opiates. Tell me what you think if you were crazy enough to read this far.

Maybe, just maybe, this is a little far-fetched. Maybe I am crazy. However, regardless of my mental stability or my fitness as a father, I have a theory and some papers to back it up:
Playboi Carti has had a monumental impact on the most recent generation of rap. His self-titled album was in the upper echelon of rap music released in the year 2017 and it is hard to deny his influence at that time. Die Lit! was arguably another great project, however, this release had more critics, likely as a consequence of a much larger mainstream following. More recently, we have seen how things have changed dramatically in light of his most recent project, Whole Lotta Red.
People could probably write entire books on the sick, twisted shit going on in this dude's mind that made him make the music that he decided to include on that project.
The disharmony, the chaos, the screams. It still haunts me.
But that is not what I am here to talk about. I wanted to dive a little deeper into his outward-facing personality and the changes that we saw occur as members of the public, outsiders looking in, trying to understand the inner-workings of his mind.
His appearance, his fashion sense, his tone of voice. We have all seen a tangible shift in his demeanor that has arguably made him appear and act more androgynously. His character's evolution from an archetypical street thug into a sort of "femboy" has been bizarre, to say the least. I do not mean this in a derogatory way at all, I am trying to discuss this objectively. It's 2021, you should be able to do whatever the hell you want, wear what you want, I am all for that but this seems to be a strange shift in behavior.
I wondered if there was an explanation. Maybe, there was some reason that this was occurring. Maybe, it was not that his jeans were magically getting tighter or he had always been this way and was just waiting to have a large enough platform to express himself without having to care about what other people think. Maybe, there was an environmental factor.
Social factors could not be completely ruled out but, considering the many popular personas in the rap game, very few big names shared these attributes. I pondered as his ad libs chimed over my broke ass iPhone speakers and wondered if the answer to my questions were in his music.
Then, it hit me. As if Playboi Carti said it to my face personally. One word set me on track to uncovering this mystery once and for all.
LEAN
Lean, as most of you are familiar with, is a mixture of codeine/promethazine cough syrup and soda.
Codeine is an opiate, which is a family of drugs that naturally occur in the opium poppy Papaver Somniferum, They are best known for their painkilling, sedative, and euphoric properties as well as their capacity to cause fatal respiratory depression in the event of an overdose.
If you are familiar with Playboi Carti's music, you know very well that he is an avid fan of this class of drugs. The mention of opiate and opioid drugs are commonplace in his music, most commonly discussing the use of codeine and oxycodone (mention brand names like Wockhardt, Actavis, Percocet, OxyContin).
Arguments could be made that his drug use is played up for the sake of entertainment but there is a mounting body of evidence that he has had a long-standing relationship with these drugs. Videos from his early years living with Fredo Santana depict him heavily intoxicated, reportedly mixing lean and Xanax frequently (and his music videos seem to tell a similar story). More recently, he was arrested with another individual after deputies discovered 12 bags of marijuana, three guns, Xanax, codeine and oxycodone in their car.
Now, why is his drug use of any relevance? Well, this is where I get to teach y'all something.
Opiates/opioids, even in therapeutic doses, are powerful drugs with the ability to cause massive and sudden changes in your neurochemistry and endocrine systems (the system responsible for hormone production and secretion). It would be beyond my grasp to try and explain the many ways hormones affect living organisms and the role they play in our bodies, however, there are a couple things worthy of note:
Hormones represent what makes females different from males. Generally, females and males have the same hormones (i.e., estrogens, progesterone, and testosterone), but their production sites, their blood concentrations, and their interactions with different organs, systems, and apparatus are different. Males produce predominantly testosterone from the testes in a relatively constant daily amount according to a circadian profile. Small amounts of estrogens and progesterone are produced by the testes and the adrenal glands or are produced in the peripheral tissues, such as adipose tissue or liver, by the conversion of other precursor hormones
czar6ixn9ne wtf does this have to do with Playboi Carti?
Opiates really mess with testosterone! If you read any Opioid Addiction Recovery forum like /OpiatesRecovery, you will hear dozens of people discuss the treatment of their reduced testosterone levels. There is also scientific literature that has identified these trends in hormonal suppression. This can lead to all sorts of changes in fertility, libido, psychological and physical ramifications. It can mess you up proper and, depending on your age, your body may not ever be able to fully recover. Just read about all the whack stuff that happens when you encounter reduced testosterone levels.
Add newfound wealth into the equation and a network of people who are likely very skilled in the acquisition of drugs and Playboi Carti could have very well had a virtually never-ending stream of opiate drugs. A cash runway is all any addict would need to spiral completely out of control into seemingly inescapable physical dependency. His candor regarding the subject and his occasional shoutouts to his plug leading into the release of WLR leads me to believe that this could have very well been the case.
In summation, Playboi Carti's recent shift to a more effeminate style and demeanor may be a consequence of his long-standing addiction to opiates. Tell me what you think if you were crazy enough to read this far.

So long story short my plug is a piece of sht and sells drugs for what they are not, he’s been knows for giving fentanyl and passed it off as Percocet. Yeah my fault cuss I still fuck w him. So I bought what I thought was “Molly”, now mindayll i do molly every weekend so I kno the taste, this was not my bitter molly! This also wasn’t sass (licorish taste) this was just SALTY! Af! So I popped my capsule and only took about half the content, it was gross 🤢. So I laid down and expected my molly high, instead I feel asleep, it was a weird sleep this, like my dreams were vivid but very short. My body was temp was hot, too hot for comfort, I felt annoyed 😒 this wasn’t molly! About an hour later I work up from this fake ass sleep like nothing. I lowkey wanted to do a whole capsule to see how the high would compare, but my body was hot so I threw out the second capsule. I can’t get the taste of salt out of my mouth!

We had our little boy 3 weeks ago! He's a gem and we couldn't be happier. It still barely feels real! The following is a summary of pregnancy, a truly idiotic work situation that led to me demanding an elective induction, and the actual induction which was a mess for completely unforeseen reasons. Most of you here probably know that I'm a neonatologist and my husband is an anesthesiologist, which has GREATLY affected how we processed infertility and how we made decisions about treatment, and how I have processed this birth experience overall. Part of my job is attending c-sections and dealing with emergencies, and the last bit is about how I processed my very unwanted but necessary c-section as both patient and provider, physical pain, bonding, and breastfeeding. I hope that perspective ends up being helpful to someone.
Pregnancy and deciding on an induction: I was lucky to have a moooostly uncomplicated pregnancy. I stayed on Metformin for the whole thing. Failed my one hour GDM screen by one point, comfortably passed the 3 hour. Literally nothing happened the first two trimesters. I did not have morning sickness and except for some fairly mild round ligament pain, really did not feel pregnant at all until about 36 weeks along, when I started to get a little more sore. The only problem was that I just wasn't gaining weight. At all. At first, no one cared about this because the baby seemed to be measuring right around average. Because of Covid, I didn't see my OB at all between 15 and 26 weeks, and the anatomy scan with MFM looked fine. Initially, they told me that I would get a growth scan at 28 weeks. At my 26 week appointment, I said that I had not gained any weight in over a month, and was getting nervous about that and would feel much better if I could get a growth scan right then. They agreed, and it looked ok. We coasted to 30 weeks, when they decided to repeat because I still just barely looked pregnant, and my kid had completely fallen off the growth curve and was maybe IUGR. That bought me weekly NSTs (the most frustrating experience ever, my kid would throw a party all day and then decide to take a nap right when I got to my appt, but luckily I never got sent to the hospital) and a couple extra growth scans. His growth was erratic. By the end of the pregnancy he had inexplicably made it back to 20-30th percentile, the induction plan wasn't technically medically necessary anymore, and I had just barely gained 13 lb. If he hadn't, I would likely have had a 38 week induction. I REALLY did not want a 38 week induction...
On the 39 week induction plan: ....but I actually really wanted a close to due date late 39 week induction. My work situation was idiotic. (For the record, hospital administrators do not give a single crap about their physicians, and we have some of the worst maternity leave policies that exist. There were certain things I could push for as a newly appointed attending vs when I was in training, but there's a reason we didn't try to have a baby while I was a resident or fellow, when I would have been lucky to get 4-6 weeks off before going right back to 24 hour calls and 60-80 hour work weeks.) My higher ups are extremely nice, but also older 60+ year old men who don't actually understand how archaic and outdated the department structure is. (And one of them is married to a physician who was back at work 3 weeks after a c section 30 years ago, and it was "fine" so he doesn't understand why anyone would need more leave than that). I did not qualify for any maternity leave benefits even though I'm on a multi year contract because I had just started working there. I could get 6 weeks of almost unpaid STD and they initially told me that I couldn't use my own sick/vacation days until 6 months of employment. While I was willing to take unpaid weeks if needed, there was a wee bit of pressure from my department to be willing to come back at 6 weeks (or sooner!) because we were already short staffed and they couldn't hire per diem people because of Covid restrictions. I was a) absolutely unwilling to take less than 8 weeks and b) unwilling to waste maternity leave weeks on being pregnant, because their completely idiotic payroll policies (possibly illegal, but that's a different story) meant that I had to name a start date to leave that had nothing to do with when I deliver. My ideal situation to make the best of this BS was to work until 39+2, and have an induction the following Monday, at 39+5 if I hadn't already gone into labor. I had to raise a bit of a stink and say that I was talking to a contract lawyer, but they eventually backed off when they realize they couldn't push me around and begrudgingly let me use 2 weeks of PTO to hit 8 weeks off. When I relayed this whole story to my OB, she thought the situation was so entirely ridiculous that she agreed to the elective induction even though the practice in general doesn't really like to do them, and the final verdict was that my kid was medically fine.
Induction: I was able to get a Sunday night induction date at 39+4, which was perfect. I worked up until Friday and we just chilled for the weekend. Everyone, from coworkers to strangers to my mother, were commenting on how small I was (was I REALLY sure my baby was ok?! etc. Ugh.) and what belly I had hadn't dropped yet, and that actually truly did seem odd for a first pregnancy. I hadn't lost my mucous plug either, wasn't really having any BH contractions, and was 99% sure heading into it that my cervix was not at all dilated. We checked in, and I got my first dose of Cytotec at 12:20AM. I was not dilated. They told me to be ready for about 3 doses of Cytotec, a cervical balloon, and pitocin, and that this would probably take a day or two since my cervix wasn't super favorable. The usual! Around 2am, an L&D room opened and they let me move out of the triage rooms, which was probably just a professional courtesy since it was so early on, but ended up being a VERY good thing.
At 2:45, I really had to pee. The nurse came in to help me move and I asked if they were going to do a cervical check soon and the next dose of Cytotec. She looked at the monitor and gave me a weird look and said yeah... but you're actually contracting so much that they may not be able to give it to you. At that point, I could feel a couple cramps here and there if I really thought about it, but it was incredibly mild. I also thought this was a little odd, but ok. I got back into bed. Half an hour later, I woke my husband up, saying *something* is happening, and started getting a little shifty in bed. I genuinely have quite a high pain tolerance. Itook one dose of Vicodin and one Motrin after I got my wisdom teeth out and was cooking a multi course birthday dinner for my Mom and eating normally in 2 days, and took a couple Percocet and 0 days off and was medivaccing babies for hours in a helicopter 3 days into a Cytotec induced miscarriage. While I did want to get an epidural eventually to avoid a scenario where I would need general anesthesia in an emergency, I wanted to try to put it off for a while to also avoid being bed bound before I really had to be. Around then, a couple residents came in for a cervical check and to decide what to do about the Cytotec. Oh, the look on their faces when they realized I was already 4cm dilated. Highly unusual, they said! Uh, ok, let's just not do anything and see how this progresses.
Ha. Ha Ha. Half an hour later, I, the one with a history of a very high pain tolerance, was on all fours on the bed having contractions that were overlapping and not even giving me a chance to catch my breath in between, with my husband applying counter pressure. This was a WEIRD feeling though. It was not at all like the very obvious uterine contraction type pain I felt when I took Cytotec to have my previous miscarriage - this was more of a really bizarre abdominal clenching sensation that completely knocked the wind out of me and made it impossible to breathe and was nearly intolerable, but at the same time, "pain" isn't the right word for it. I still can't explain that, but in retrospect, I think this had something to do with unbelievably quickly I was progressing, and that if things had gone more normally and gradually, my body could have acclimated better and I might have been able to handle it and figure out how to breathe through it.
Now, I had a couple very confused residents in my room trying to figure out what the hell was happening. By about 4am, I think, I was 7cm dilated, barely 3.5 hours after a single dose of Cytotec to an unfavorable cervix. This was when I realized I had to get that epidural right now if I was ever going to get it. Of course, I had heard the overhead pages for a couple emergency c-sections go off in the past hour, and it seemed unclear if anesthesia was even available. They were having trouble keeping the baby on the monitor, probably because of how much I was shifting trying to get comfortable, but it seemed like there were some mild decels starting. Ok, fine, whatever, that happens, usually it's not that big a deal, but it just means someone from the NICU will be at delivery. Anesthesia actually came in relatively quickly and started trying to explain to me what an epidural is. I had absolutely had it at that point - "we're both doctors! I'm NICU, he's anesthesia! I KNOW HOW THIS WORKS JUST PUT IT IN," I yelled, mid horrendous never-ending contraction that I was really trying to stay still during while my husband held me. (Not my proudest moment.) The poor guy actually did a really nice job, according to my husband, who was like.... um, yeah, sorry but please just put it in, she really has no significant medical history for you to know about, I promise. Lol. I was finally able to relax a little after that, though I was still feeling some weirdness in my thighs during contractions, but at least I could breathe. At some random point here, my water broke, but no one really knows when. It was chaos. Right after the epidural, they checked again, and I was fully dilated, and most definitely having real decelerations, but they weren't all that bad, and the baby's heart rate would recover well in between. He was still high up though, and the goal was to just have me labor down for a little bit and get him out asap.
By 5am, the decels were getting worse. Now I had a couple nurses, a couple residents, and a couple attendings in my room, all very concerned and flipping me around in bed like a sausage trying to get the decels to stop. Now I had an IUPC. It was way too late for an amnioinfusion. They told me that normally they wouldn't have me push yet because the baby was high, but to try to push a bit to get him to descend, and then maybe they could get him out as quickly as possible with a vacuum. I pushed, he came down a little bit. They could see the top of his head, but he was still too high for a vacuum. My husband keeps mentioning that the main OB felt so bad for me, that you could just see it on her face, but that she finally had to bring up the prospect of a c section as the decels got worse. I vaguely heard them say something about giving me some terbutaline (I still had only gotten the one dose of cytotec!) to slow things down a bit, but I have no idea if I got actually got it or not. Finally, they said, let's just move you to an OR, and have you push there for a bit just in case.
So we did that. The decels weren't great, but they weren't horrible, for a little bit, and I pushed for about half an hour. I was having absolutely insane epidural shakes, practically vibrating. And then the decels got bad enough that he was going down to the 60s, and the writing was on the wall. I REALLY did not want this c-section for a first child when we're not done trying to have more, but it is also literally my job to recognize that this wasn't going anywhere good. My poor husband had been on the sidelines, trying to just give counter pressure and try to make me comfortable, and not interfere or play doctor-dad or doctor-husband, but he had one eyeball on the fetal heartrate monitor the whole time and I could see the relief on his face when I finally turned to him and said, I think we need to do this. YES, he said, the baby needs to get out now, that tracing really looks awful.
On c-sections: Lord, the prep was terrible. I was still shaking so hard post epidural. There was still no explanation for why any of this was happening. Nothing made sense. I really did not want this surgery. My husband just kept saying this is the right thing to do, we both know this is the right thing to do to keep me calm. There was this one localized spot where the epidural wasn't totally effective, so I had to get extra meds that made me REALLY drowsy. And then I suddenly realized I was half naked on the bed and the NICU attending who came in for the delivery was one of the people who trained me and always seems to be around for the most ridiculous situations, so THAT was great. She has gone through some serious RPL hell and a peri-viable loss herself, though, and was so sweet and came over to say hi and reassure me a bit. And then the baby was out, and just as suddenly, the epidural shakes completely stopped, which truly makes no sense, since the baby being in has nothing to do with the shakes. Apparently, his cord was wrapped around his leg - which likely explains the decels, the emergent c-section, and why he just wasn't dropping or descending before or during labor. This likely would have happened induction or not. I was so woozy I'm still not totally sure exactly what happened, and I actually have no desire to find out (trying so hard not to play doctor-mom!) but I think he probably needed a little stimulation and extra suction or something, but nothing too major, and then they brought him over. And I had my baby! I was barely awake or coherent, but I was able to hold him for a minute and then my husband got him, and next thing I knew, I was in the PACU. I was still barely awake, but managed to get him to latch for a solid half hour, and did some skin to skin. I definitely was not fully aware of my surroundings and was 85% asleep and barely remember this, but apparently my husband was literally just sitting next to us with one hand on the baby the whole time, so they let us be. About two hours later, the meds wore off and I finally felt awake again and I got moved up to a very lovely post partum room.
On recovery: Good. Effing. Grief. The recovery was AWFUL. I don't know if it had something to do with the mess that my labor was, or if all c-sections are like this, but the incisional pain was SO BAD, and definitely worse than I've ever heard people describe their c-section pain was. I don't think my experience was normal, for whatever reason. I literally refused to get out of bed to go to the bathroom when they told me to. It just wasn't going to happen. They finally took the foley out and said fine, but now you have to try to get up when you have to go, which was a few hours after that. It honestly wasn't completely horrible, a very sweet tech helped me figure out how to rotate, but it was pretty bad. As I told my husband - I can't believe people actually ask for c-sections, and I can't believe we do ex-laps on 90 year olds. It took me a solid week of oxycodone, 600mg of Motrin around the clock, and lots of time with the heating pad.... and I finally got to the point where I could get out of bed to go to the bathroom without my husband's help. It was bad, guys. 3 weeks out, and things are healing well, but I still get a weird feeling of pressure in my lower abdomen when I pee.
On my feeeeeeelings about c-sections: I mean, look. C-sections are part of my job. I've been to hundreds, some emergent, resuscitated countless preemies, run codes, dealt with everything under the sun that can happen in a NICU. I can't even count the number of times I've said that the most important thing is a safe mom and baby, and that fed is best, and I really do believe that. To be fair, I was exactly the woman on L&D I always feel sorry for, and always say "oh, this poor woman" when I get back to the unit after the c-section - the one who made it to fully dilated and pushing and still ended up in the OR. And yet, I was surprised by the depth of my feelings about this c-section and how adamant I was about exclusively breastfeeding even when I could barely function. And if I feel that way, even with being absolutely certain that this c-section was necessary, that the likely culprit was the cord, having seen this happen countless times as a provider, completely trusting my own providers, and knowing from a professional perspective that there is likely nothing that could have changed this outcome and the induction had nothing to do with it - I can't even imagine how it feels to someone who doesn't have that perspective and has more doubts about how it all played out. Pregnancy is weird. Feelings are dumb. There was nothing I specifically did about this and haven't really talked about it out loud, but time does help. It took a couple weeks for that sadness to dissipate, but I finally feel better about it, without a visceral I-don't-want-that reaction when I think about the possibility of a repeat c-section. I still don't think I want to just schedule a repeat c-section next time, given how horrible this was, but since the cord was the problem and it wasn't actually a failed induction, I am a fairly ideal TOLAC candidate and will likely give it a shot. And if it doesn't work, so be it.
On breastfeeding and bonding: The hardest thing I've ever done. I've managed to exclusively breastfeed so far, even through all of the initial pain. My milk came in decently, even with a c-section, probably because I had some labor to trigger it. I don't have an oversupply, but I do have enough for my baby and to store ~5oz of milk a day, and have not had to supplement formula so far. I'm hoping to use pumping and the haakaa to try to boost that to more like 10oz a day to build a stash, I just need to be a little more diligent about it. He lost 8% of his weight and had some slow weight gain, but never crossed the 10% threshold. At 2 weeks, he was 5oz short of birth weight, but given that he seemed satisfied after feedings, wasn't really cluster feeding, was peeing and pooping well, I knew I had at least as much milk as he was willing to take, I really did not want to supplement just yet. My pediatrician went along with it because she knew I was reliable and know what the real red flags are, and 5 days later, he was at birth weight, and we're just chugging along. I will say though, the only reason this is working because of incredible, unwavering support from my mom and my husband. They have done EVERYTHING. My mom cooks and cleans and stocks the fridge and brings me food wherever I happen to be sitting, and my husband has dealt with reorganizing all the things in the closets as the baby stuff takes over, taking care of the cats, and all the chores and errands. I have done absolutely nothing whatsoever than heal up and feed the baby in the past 3 weeks, and 90% of diapers have been changed by my husband. Even after his 2 weeks of paternity leave, he gets up at the 2am feed to burp the baby and change him and get him to sleep (he's a little refluxy so it takes some time) so that I can get a few extra minutes to snooze before the next feed. No questions asked, he's just doing it, and I love him so damn much. Watching him love on the baby is truly the most beautiful thing. It truly takes a village. Breastfeeding like this is so exhausting and draining, and I have not gotten more than 3 consecutive hours of sleep in 3 weeks, usually no more than 2, since I'm not even using the middle of the night feeds to give him expressed milk in a bottle yet, and this munchkin really likes to feed for 40 minutes. It's like a never ending marathon, but we're doing it.
I think the physical pain did affect bonding, though. It took a couple weeks for me to really felt like I had a baby, even with around the clock on demand breastfeeding. I was lucky that my baby figured out how to latch fairly well and effectively, so my only obstacle was keeping up with the schedule and sleep deprivation, and I never truly felt like I was heading into PPD territory or felt completely disconnected, but I also totally did not have that immediate instantaneous knock me on my ass feeling of bonding and love either. I'm going to blame this on how horrible my recovery was and the haze I was in, though, because this too simply got better with time. I was aware that this was likely the problem, and just tried to be kind to myself and not guilt myself over it. Just over 3 weeks in, I am so in love with my baby, and there is nothing better in the world than holding and cuddling him, and he's starting to be a little more awake and responsive to sound and we're starting to get the first hints of a smile, and I get butterflies when I look at him. The interactiveness definitely helps a bit, and I think it will continue to get better over the next few weeks. We worked so damn hard to get here and went through all kinds of personal and professional hell to make it happen, and it's just amazing to finally be here.

My rhymes are intellectual acuity and wit married, if the good die young I shoulda been miscarried.A Paragon of dope, with skill that’s objective if you can’t see my talent your need your vision corrected.Malefic..diggin mass graves and buryin, putting you cats down like vetenarians. A variant of Mc in a class of his own. As I age I get better my skills been Masterfully Hohned. I’m like a nuke I shine so bright I make your anatomy show. best at what I do lyrical integrity is second to none fuck around battle me an just know you’re getting electively brung to the end a your fucking career, you and I are from a Different pedigree son, I’m from the world of big L’s and immortal techniques you come from the world of mumble rapping bartard deadbeats. making you dread beef, fucking with me is a death plea, The delta between are bars is like a life sentence and death row My shit is concentrated dopeness like compressed blow. You wouldn’t believe the amount of emcees I wreck and mar, on the mic you spew less gas than an electric car.
The second rap is horror core early Eminem SSLP era inspired I plan on recording these as separate songs
Killing addict, psychologically enigmatic, so let me elucidate my foul ruthless ways, diabolical, with a mouth as rotten as tooth decay, irreverent imbued with hate. A sickening, prolific rapist, committing horrific heinous.. torture in a sadistic languid way when I elicit anguish. A lunatic in a manic state with a heart so cold my blood coagulates. Was a bad seed smoking weed a child ruined, popping pills and dropping E till I drained my spinal fluid. Got a fire flo that’s antiquated like vinyl music, and sometimes I just feel like I’m the last of my kind, if em’s the rap god then what I’m rappin’s divine. Here with a vast provision a rhymes, making a mockery out of modern rap, with a flo so hot you can’t touch it like a lava lamp. Proficient rhymer, a sick reviled... degenerate who will rob you and blow your head off in quick succession, with a smith and Wesson, got your body wrapped by the paramedic like a Christmas present. I’m the king of rap and you’re just a gritless peasant. Dastardly, Every were I go I cause calamity, haphazardly commiting acts of violence and savagery. Driving around shooting up random houses a psycho whose actions are more violent then the lyrics he espouses. Higher on Percocet then a commercial jet. Uncircumspect, paying no heed to the adverse effects, if it offends you it’s got my firm assent. A gem in a rap game filled with more clowns then a circus tent. Adroit with words, so ill I’ve got psychiatrists coining terms to describe my diagnosis,masturbating with a bag over my head till I’m in a state of cyanosis. Grab a hatchet stab you with it and pour salt on your open gashes, before I stab you to death with your broken bone fragments. I Come up on you actin all cordial and unctuous, fore I fill you with lead and pull the clip of my gun from outneath underit, just to fill it with more rounds to empty in you for the satisfaction. Bitch you ain’t a gangster, you’re just a faggot actin. You ain’t ever seen no one with this level of sickness lighting fire to homeless shelters and bombing churches on Christmas. My rhyming scares my psychiatrist sick enough walk into a children’s hospital and pull the plugs on all the dying kids.

My wife and I were out at the flea market when we saw it. Looking like an old stock ticker from the 1920s, the device looked to be made of polished brass. It appeared fragile and had many intricate parts behind a glass dome which looked to protect it from any outside forces.
I had absolutely no idea what it was, but my wife liked the aesthetics of it for our apartment décor.
“That would look so cool up on our display shelf in the living room, don’t you think? It's looked the same since we put it up.” She saw me looking restive and assumed correctly I was doing subtraction on the dwindling amount currently sitting in our chequing account. “It’s only four dollars.”
We had been trying to declutter lately, and go to a more minimalistic style, but at the same time, the thing really did look pretty dang cool.
“Sold,” I said, picking the heavy device up off the shelf. I carried it around with me for a few more minutes as we finished shopping, and my arm began to go numb from the weight of it. My wife looked at me struggling and agreed to head to the cash register and settle up.
After paying for our assorted items we went back home.
Almost as soon as we walked in the apartment door, Christine was busy removing items from the display shelf that hung above our couch in the living room. It was the first thing people saw when they walked inside, so we had used it to display a few pieces of high art we had obtained – A Spider-man/Green Goblin print, Funko bobble-heads, and artificial succulents from Dollarama.
The shelf looked barely capable of holding the heavy thing, as she set it down there, but I remembered using very long screws and carefully finding the studs to hang the shelf. She rested it there and the thing held, to my slight amazement and relief.
I reached up to adjust it as she was still holding it and we both touched it at the same time. As my fingers brushed against the glass, something extremely bizarre happened. There was a dizzying moment where I felt like I could see through two pairs of eyes at once, then suddenly only one again, from a different angle, now lower, and to the left of where I had been standing. I was still holding the glass-covered device, but I saw my arms were now thin and feminine.
“What the hell,” I said, my voice suddenly higher than normal. I looked to my right to see “me” standing there. It was the strangest feeling, like looking in a mirror but without its presence.
“Holy shit,” my wife said back, standing there and now inhabiting my body.
The shelf suddenly collapsed under the weight of it and everything fell to the floor. The glass covering the device cracked and shattered into a million pieces and the polished brass machine exposed behind it was now dented and warped. It was no longer making any noise, either. I suddenly realized the thing had been very faintly humming, so quietly that we didn’t even noticed until the sound was gone. But how was that possible, I wondered. There was no battery or plug on it. And the thing was about a century old by the looks of it. What was it running on?
We stood there gawking at each other for a few minutes. Just staring, jaws agape. How do you process such an event happening? It’s almost impossible. I felt panic rising in me and my breath began to come fast and shallow, my heart beating faster and faster. The world faded into shades of yellow, then red, and finally black. I went down awkwardly with my head hitting against the corner of the coffee table, hearing my own voice calling out to me as I hit the ground and pain exploded in my skull. I was conscious for just long enough to see blood pooling around me and to realize that this accident would require an ambulance.
I woke up in the hospital – still in my wife’s body. And she was nowhere to be seen. I felt anger rising up in me as I wondered where she could possibly be right now. There was no sign of her. My hand went up to the side of my face and I felt bandages there going up to my scalp.
Then I noticed the letter sitting on the table to the right side of the hospital bed. I picked it up and read it. It was written in my wife’s handwriting.
J, You always said I was exaggerating. Let’s see if you still think so. Have a nice life. - C
I wondered what the hell she could be talking about, then felt the pain begin to flare in my belly.
The thing was, my wife had an incurable illness. Now I had her body, and thus now I had the incurable illness.
Guilt began to crowd my thoughts as the pain increased to the point where I could no longer stand it. I looked down and saw my belly had suddenly swollen twice its size. It felt like pressure building and building in my guts and I wanted to vomit from the force of it all.
I clutched my abdomen and looked around the room, terror and panic rising up into my gullet like a balloon. There, the call bell. I pushed the button and waited. I held it down. Minutes passed. I felt like I could scream. Then I really did begin to scream. The pain was extraordinary.
All those years I had stayed at home when my wife had gone to the ER. She had gone alone to suffer by herself in the waiting rooms and at first had scolded me for it, then became increasingly saddened and disappointed by my lack of interest in this terrible part of her life. As much as she hated her endometriosis it was a part of her.
She would tell me how it was as common as diabetes, but nobody really seemed to know or care about it in the medical community. She’d come back from the ER and tell me how EMS workers would hurl insults at her in the waiting rooms, saying, “I saw you here yesterday, you fucking junkie. Why don’t you go home and let them deal with actual sick people?”
“It’s as painful as child birth,” she’d tell me while reading articles online, and I’d roll my eyes. “That’s what it says right here. It’s like cancer. It just spreads and spreads and takes over your entire abdomen. You grow cysts and this horrible tissue that’s sole purpose is to cause pain. Eventually they have to remove your entire reproductive system if it gets bad enough.”
What a lemon, I've been stuck with, I remember thinking to myself at the time.
I was feeling her pain now, though. Quite literally. All these years I had scoffed at her, thinking she had been exaggerating. That she had Munchhausen’s or some such thing, just looking for attention by seeking medical care and sympathy. I thought she hadn’t known how I secretly felt, but she did. After all this time, she was just going to fucking leave me here to suffer.
Finally a male nurse dressed in navy blue scrubs came in.
“Oh, you’re awake! Let’s get a quick set of vitals.” He looked at my hand still gripping the call bell with white knuckles. “Did you need something?”
“I’ve been in so much agony since I woke up, can I please get something for the pain? I have endometriosis and it hurts so bad right now.”
“Endo-what-a-dosis? I don’t know what that is. I’ll call the doctor but they’re pretty busy right now. It might be a while.” He slapped the blood pressure cuff on my arm and put on his stethoscope.
He held it up to my chest and brought it down to my breasts before I even had a chance to say anything else. Bringing it down through the gown, he listened to by breathing as the blood pressure cuff inflated. Then he pulled up my hospital gown roughly and held the stethoscope to my belly, listening to the horrible sounds it was making.
“Geez, you’re bowel sounds are pretty hyperactive.” I looked past him and saw an old man was staring at me from the bed across the room. He was touching himself beneath the blankets.
“Can you close the curtains, please?”
“Oh, sorry. I’m done. I’ll give the doc a call.” He turned around and left, leaving the curtains open.
I lay there, feeling violated and exposed. The old man got up from his bed and came over to mine.
“Hey, young lady,” he said.
“Please leave me alone,” I told him.
“Fuckin’ rude bitch,” he spit at me, his warm spittle landing on my cheek. “You should learn to be polite when a man is talking to you.” He didn’t leave, just came closer and leaned in towards my face. His hot breath smelled of chicken salad with too much mayonnaise.
I had been tall as a man, around six and a half feet, but as my wife I was only five two. The old guy towered over me and as I tried to push him away he grabbed my wrists and held them down. I was too stunned to scream. I tried to kick him but my feet were tucked in tightly under too many blankets. He let go of my left wrist and used his right hand to begin to choke me as I clawed with futility at his face.
“You want it, bitch? I can give it to you.”
The nurse walked back in.
“Leonard! Get back to your bed! We’ve talked about this! No touching the other patients!”
What the hell? So he’s done this before, I thought to myself as the man let go of me and walked away with a sulking look on his face.
“Keep him the fuck away from me!” I screamed.
“Calm down, lady, geez. He’s just an old man. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing. He’s got dementia.” He was looking at me like I was a heartless monster. “Huh. Not in too much pain anymore I see?”
“What!?”
“You were complaining you had so much pain a few minutes ago. You look fine to me, now. Are you on something at home? Dilaudid? Percocet? Oxy? The doctor’s not comfortable prescribing opioids right now so he gave an order for some Tylenol.”
He handed me a little paper cup with two regular strength in it. I gulped them down dry, knowing, just knowing, that they wouldn’t do anything.
“You need something else?”
“A new room?”
“Ha! Yeah, you and a million other people. It’s a pandemic, lady. Doctor wants to discharge you once you’re up and moving, so physio will be in to see you in a minute. Assuming you can walk, we’ll get you out of here later today.”
The rest of my hospital stay was thankfully short but full of agonizing pain, and I got home and gulped down twice the dosage of my wife’s pain meds. She was always complaining they made her constipated, so I ate a fig bar afterwards and gulped down some apple juice.
I went back into the living room and looked at the device on the floor that had caused all this. It was laying there, looking burnt out and broken.
My abdomen and my entire body still screams with pain and I don’t know if I can live like this. I’m truly terrified if this is it for the rest of my life, that I won’t be able to take it.
I really want my old body. But I don't think my wife is interested in trading back.
JG

[REVIEW] RMR - Drug Dealing is a Lost Art
The mysterious masked singer, RMR drops his highly anticipated debut project, “Drug Dealing Is a Lost Art” with appearances from Westside Gunn, Future, and Lil Baby
A new Mercedes, foreign women, and Elliantte diamonds: to RMR, this is what success tastes like when you’re stuck on welfare. Introducing RMR, the mysterious masked singer from SoundCloud who at first glance looks ready to commit a robbery, but sings to calm you down when he’s waving a pistol in your face while filling the bags. Not much is known about him which adds the mythos this man created what feels like overnight. In an interview with the Los Angeles Times, the most the interviewer could get out of him is that he has roots in Inglewood, to Atlanta, rooting up to LA which appears to be where he’s currently based out of. Being described as a product of “country-trap” (thank Lil Nas X), RMR caught the world’s attention with “Rascal”, a joyous ballad featuring a rendition of Rascal Flatts’s (“These Days”) of drug dealing success while holding a stiff middle finger to the boys in blue. While (“Rascal”) turned heads, what put RMR on the map was his hit single, (“Dealer”) which earned a remix featuring a crushing verse from Future and a sonically enticing verse from Lil Baby. He finally releases his highly anticipated LP, “Drug Dealing is a Lost Art.”
On the opening track (“Welfare”), Westside Gunn - the rising Buffalo rap star representing the Griselda collective; opens the track with his snarly high-pitched flow, “Had a hundred shots but it only took five to make that nigga fold/Hit twice up close, make sure he dead and sped off in a Rolls/Pleading "Please don't kill me" (Don't kill me)/Both headshot, nigga, what's your dealy? (What's your dealy?)” In classic Griselda fashion, hustling in the streets couldn’t sound more nonchalant and elegant at the same time. RMR manages to take the reigns from Westside Gunn, like a shooter sitting in the passenger seat taking his shot. With beautiful vocals over a piano ballad and hard hitting bass, RMR traps the listener with pockets of melodies that only makes you want to sing a long. For the hook, he celebrates his graduation from the projects: “Windows tinted, you can't see me now/Your girl on me, you can ask her how/Condo in the city, I moved up out the trap spot.” For RMR, coming from welfare - success couldn’t be more rewarding.
The contrast between Westside Gunn and RMR is interesting; a duality of what RMR plans to graduate to - the glorified designer ladened lifestyle that mostly all rapper aspire for. To get that lifestyle, what are you willing to do? Being a product of his environment, trapped in a system meant to zone black Americans into zones that leave them stranded and disadvantaged.
“I’m the dealer, not the addict/nigga I’m a boss” RMR reiterates as he’s trying to convince himself on the hit single, (“Dealer”). Popping a variety of pills, specifically Xanax and Percocet, with a sip of codeine to add the cherry on top; in a daze, he tries to convince himself he’s not an addict while providing the drugs to his clientele. Meeting his plug and dropping off around town all night, “Go 'head, sip it, bet I'll keep on sippin'/Drinkin' bottles after bottles, feelin' all exquisite/Fuckin' models after models, all these hoes junkies” he sings as If he’s hiding a wall of trauma behind it all. There’s always consequences to these kind of lifestyles whether it’s death or PTSD, the drugs helps numb the pain so you can continue to prosper.
Blurring the lines between a country influenced trap singer, and a pop star in the cusp of busting - RMR shows his explosive versatility on the Timbaland produced “I’m Not Over”, a song that’s all over the radio waves for obvious reasons. On (“Silence”), RMR almost sounds like Post Malone as he vocals frolics over a dreamy synth orchestra.
After flexing his genre-bending vocals, RMR brings listeners back to the trap. We are back wearing off-white, women dressed in LV in a song that sounds like it came out of the Cactus Jack label collective. Surrounded by city lights, the women are the same with cocaine powered under their noses - the cocaine being their best friend. All around him are addicts, but the lines are once more blurred as he’s the dealer, the consumer and the addict - like Future; he’s conscious and aware of his shortcomings even though it doesn’t stop him. On (“Best Friend”), the realities of an unnamed woman comes onto the surface as he watches her spiral. He’s rich, he’s the supplier, and she’s his consumer.
“No tomorrow, that's what she'll say Reckless and she knows it, just check her DNA Momma still a broad and daddy still don't even give a fuck Let the money raise her daughter, that's why every night she's stuck”
As glamorous as the life of a drug dealer may appear, RMR doesn’t hesitate to show both sides of the spectrum. Like a Don Toliver song that only shows the high and the night life - RMR’s music shows the come down not only for him, but for the addicts that he surrounds himself with. The gritty lifestyle filled with regret, pain, and a loss of morality is highlighted here, thickened with the drive to succeed passed cocaine and drug houses. Using his talented vocals to paint tales of addiction sand desperation, RMR draws from a potluck of genres and influences. He successfully manages to blur the lines between country, trap, and pop in a manner that adds substance along with sustainability in his music. Welcome to the world of fame and stardom; for RMR, the highs can only get higher.
7.8
[REVIEW] RMR - Drug Dealing Is A Lost Art

Information/opinions/ comments please -
So I’m stuck in a tough spot in the way of being virtually locked in with my sub-par pain management with 6x10/325 Percocet
btw- these generics are GARBAGE lately. I’ve even read pharmacist and doctors complains about this brand as well. People have even been said to go into withdrawal because it has no where near 10mg of oxy. A few people were said to have send these into the lab to actually get tested. Not sure if it got them anywhere . Brand- **RHO
Last several times I’ve seen Doc, he has offered options, but in capped at 90mg morphine equivalent. I’ve been reading about all sorts of drugs and have been using the morphine calculato converter for a couple of days to see what would be the most bang for my buck
I’ve found that I can potentate my Percocet with grapefruit, but that doesn’t seem safe since I take a lot of other meds. Not trying to die by the way of grapefruit. I also found that pain relief will be virtually doubled if I take the actual oral morphine pills and they are “plugged” ... not a fan of sticking anything in an exit but I might just be willing to if I can virtually get a leg up (no pun intended) on this cap of 90mg.
Then there’s the option that I’ve really been staring at and thinking about hard about- I haven’t talked to him about this yet/ but according to the calculator, it’s exactly 90mg of morphine. It is oxymorphone/ Opana (6x5mg). I’ve read that the half life on these is great 7-9 hours and these work a lot better for pain in general than 10/325 Percocet (especially with the trash I’ve been consistently getting).
Sorry for all the scatter brained 3:15am rambling. Another night/morning in pain. Unfortunately, this seems to be the norm lately.
Take care everyone
Texas

Im a 28 year old man and Over the better part of my 20s i have been, what I feel, is a severe opiate addiction. Im starting to lose my mind over it. It all started when I was 16. A Close family member gave me one of the old Blue tab 10/500s one day because my shoulder was hurting after skateboarding all day and take some pretty nasty falls. It was more of an annoyance then anything, Anyways. Once i downed it I should have figured what was going to happen. There are some things that are just too good for your own good, and this was one of them. High school ended and I had dabbled here and there with them. Never really starting any real regiment of dosing. Tabs and percocets were extremely easy to find back then and Rappers werent talking about them in music as much so they were cheap. This was around 2009-2010. I found a constant source for them, So i ate them.....at will...and loved every single one of them....Not realizing on what was going on in my body. I didnt think about withdrawal or anything like that at this point. So on my 19th birthday I moved from Atlanta, Ga to Lafayette, LA to go twords the Oilfield looking for good money to be made. I got work with the same old family member who gave the the original Blue tab 10. We were running a concrete plant and once we started looking for them...we found them....and alot of them. The thing about Louisiana back then is its just like Florida. All it takes is some bullshit xrays and crossing over into texas to see these pill mill doctors that are easy to find. Just takes a little common sense. This is where my Hell started. I was 20 years old at this point, Working full time making more money then most people my age and had a horrible prescription problem at this point. The family member who i was living with was going to get 120 from 2 different drs on a monthly basis. One in texas, One in Louisiana. I would keep 1 scrip and he would take the other. This is how that started, By the end of it. We both were using the scrips of 120 and buying whatever else we could get our hands on..Except Heroin. That was one thing we both completely refused on doing was Black tar. Tbh To this day ive still never used black tar and refuse too. I dont care how bad my WD are. I wont do it. Anyways back to my story. At the peak of the problems in Louisiana, I was spending more then I was making and I was completely Miserable with everything going on in my life. I originally came out here to better my life and get away from The hustling and Dealing from east atlanta for a better life. A chance... I moved back to atlanta Halloween night when I was 20. I literally quit my job, Packed my Blazer and just left. No Explanation to my girlfriend at the time. When she called me, She asked if we could take her little sister trick or treating and I had to tell her i was In atlanta with no intentions of coming back...She didnt know what was going on. She knew i was depressed but she had no Idea about the pills. Getting back in the swing of things in atlanta, i found all my old connections and some even better ones that my friends in LA told me about and got me connected with here. It was almost immediate that i was back in my old ways. Except when I came back i met someone. Someone who i cared for and who I felt I loved. Well call her....Onna. I was 20 and she was 18. We met working next to each other at papa johns when we first met. Were dating at this point. I introduce her to these little blue things in my pocket....and she loves them just as i did when i first tried them. For the next 8 years we go through Extreme highs and lows all because of these fucking things. We are literally modern day slaves because of them. We love each other but the addiction will always come first. This kills me. This is also straining this relationship due to the money being spent on them. You truely see someones most selfish sides when it comes to getting sick or not. We both are extremely guilty of it. Deception and lying over a substance...that was originally ment to make me feel better.....In 2016, I couldnt take it anymore. The agruing, the fighting. losing our home together and losing what i felt was one of the most important things to me in my life. I got up and walked away from it all. I couldnt do it anymore. Here we are. Separated now at this point..alone...and still extremely addicted to pills. The both of us. We are at our height of the addiction now. Both of us. At this point i was literally eating 6 OP30s 3 times a day. Getting thousands of dollars of pills fronted to me weekly and when my paycheck came biweekly it was gone. I couldnt do this anymore. It was literally making me want to die. There were many times i was so low..that i had the pistol in my mouth ready to end everything. Ready to be on that tshirt. Ready to make every once of my suffering stop. I was ready to die and I had come to terms with it. This wasnt the first time Ive accepted death and what it brings. I had cancer as a kid and went through some really really bad points and there were actual times the doctors told me I shouldnt have made it. Thats a story for another time though. The only thing that stopped me from going through with everything February 2016 was my mother. I came to her after work one day balling my fucking eyes out. Coming clean about everything. Told her how low I was and told her I refuse to go do inpatient somewhere. I also told her how low i was. My mother held me the tightest she ever has and told me. I'm here, its going to be okay. You will get through this and I will help you. Thats exactly what she did too. The first 3 days were absolute hell. I took the next few days off work because i knew what was coming and I knew i wouldnt be able to be at work for it. It starts. Day 1 wasnt so bad. I was being optimistic about everything. Made it to the night of day 1 with nothing.....This is where hell on earth came for me. Not to mention i had to have 2 wisdom teeth yanked out during this time. Imagine, going through WD, and having teeth extracted...Not fun. Would not recommend. 1 star review. Dont fucking do it, in other words. I go through hell over the next few days. Days turn to weeks. Finally...Im Clear....Im Clean. For the first time in almost 12 years...Im clean. Except for you know the normal shit, a beer here and there and ive always been a massive pothead. But i was clean from the devil that had caused me so much pain...so much horror. I was done with it. Finally. Finished. Thinking about that time now i could literally cry.. That was 4 years ago today. I relapsed in 2018. And bad at that. Still have never done Dope dope. But it might as well be. I feel im worse now then I was at my peak in 2016. To wake up in the morning i have to have atleast 2 Roxy 30 to get my day started. Then through out the day Ill take anywhere from 5-10. If you dont know about Roxy 30s and arent from that atlanta area. Just know these are 30 dollar pills. If i blow 5-10 of them a day thats a 300 dollar a day habbit. Thats insane...even for me to say. Atleast back when I was eating OPs I was able to get them for cheap 5-7 a pill. PLus not to mention all of these rappers talking about perkys and shit in their music driving the prices of everything up on the street. Where a single lortab 10 use to be 6 dollar MAX. They are now going dollar a mg. Which is absolutely insane. Im writing all of this to explain my situation and what I am currently going through. I have hit that rock bottom point in my life again where I just want to be free from all of this. I have a good job, i make good money. I never see any of it. But its there. I make sure my bills stay paid and I make sure i can dose myself as need be. This has even become a task now due to how expensive everything is now and How hard its getting to find anything anymore. Im terrified to go through the WD this go round. Reason being, Im older then i was the last time. My body cant take it like it use to. Im forcing myself to go though this though Starting Thursday. Its tuesday right now. Im Hoping i can be strong over this and over come this problem...again. Me and Onna are back together, She got off them once we separated back in 16' but she is in the same boat with me now. Both relapsed together in 18' unfortunately. I feel if I dont get this under control now. This will kill me. Im no small dude as it is. I stand about 6'0 about 300lbs. I have some health issues and at this point in my life, shit is scaring me. Bad. Everyone around me is dying and Its hard to think about again. Ive move forward from thinking about death and my acceptance of it. Where im not scared of death...I still dont want my family and friends to see this happen to me. I need help. But wont take it from in patient. Call it stupid but my pride wont let me do that. Im going to start to work on being a better me. A better person. I would like a family with Onna one day. The way we are now though, It wont happen. It cant. Were both extremely toxic because we cant get this demon off our back. I hope someone will read this story and see, You are not alone. Everything that your feeling, Someone else is going through the same problems. I have been a bad addict my entire adult life and hate myself for it, But all I can do is try and change everything one step at a time. Ive done enough research to know im going to try and use Kratom OPMS tincture shots for WDS during the day and use my Ambien at night for sleep. I hope this works. If youve made it this far....Thank you for reading. It feels good to finally get some of my problems ive been hold in for so long out. Maybe it will help me move forward. Maybe not. Who knows. All I know is. I am Terrified of whats to come Thursday.
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Thank you again for reading.
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Sincerely,
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UPDATE**\*
Hey guys,
I ended up hiding this story because I wasn't fully sure how many close people who know me are here. The names I used would be very easy for people who know me to recognize. I did want to give the people who did get a chance to read it an update on the situation. Well, didnt start that thursday like I originally planned. I wanted probably around a month or so and go hooked with up a methadone clinic. I would not recommend that solution to my worst enemy. Ended up staying on methadone for a almost a year. Onna and I are still together and she started at the clinic with me. Since then she has found a DR to get her on a suboxone treatment. I stuck with the clinic and help get her through the transition from methadone to subs. I've started to travel for work a good bit. Also still a massive pothead. Due to me smoking pot, they would not give me a weeks worth of take homes at a time. I never tested positive for any other opiate since I started the treatment. The only thing that honestly saved me was COVID. When Covid hit, They started giving us 2 days @ a time and the weekend doses on Fridays. This helped when it came to traveling but on the days they would give me my medicine for, I had to set up guest dosing @ a clinic in or near the towns I was traveling too. This became an insane nuisance to me. Here I am doing the right thing, getting clean and working a job that pays more then the Clinic director. I even offered to bribe her on multiple occasions to try and get my weeks worth of take homes. When you have trips going from Minnesota to texas to florida back to back literally in the same week, It becomes an insane hassle trying to set everything up for guest dosing because the workers @ my clinic were lazy and honestly didn't know what they were doing.....They were the definition of Fake it til you make it. I got insanely sick of this. I got with Onna and she introduced me to the DR who started her sub treatment. On March 8th of this year, I made the switch. Let me tell you....The withdraw from Methadone is far worse than any other pain pill I have EVER ate. The methadone withdrawls literally had my muscles spasming worse than I have ever seen and @ times I couldn't stop yelling due to the pain and just.....uncomfortableness I was experiencing. Day 1 -3 were absolute hell. I hit low points once again that was in my above story. I fully got out of bed for the first time on day 5. I had taken a week and a half off to make this switch and the owner of my company knows exactly what I was doing and was insanely supportive. Told me to get myself right and they will be there when I get back. I did this specifically on March 8th because I had a business trip to Vegas on the 30th. This brings to me to today. I am Clean of all other opiates except my subs and pot. I have gone from 4 subs a day to 2 and will continue to decrease my doses as I can. I haven't drank in probably a year now because I felt I didn't want anything like that to influence anything. Let me tell you. I feel fucking AMAZING. I am confident that I will not go back at all. I got rid of all my plugs numbers and truth be told, Kinda fucked them over intentionally so they don't reach out to me anymore for anything. Like I said, I feel amazing today. I still deal with depression about the shit but I know that I am growing as a man to the adult I should've been a year ago, hell When I relapsed in 2018. I knew better and was poking a rabid bear when I ate that first Roxy in 18'.
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I am a better person today then I probably have ever been in my life. Just know you are not alone in this journey and if you need someone to talk to, Do not hesitate to reach out. I will help and talk to anyone who is down and needs help. I've been there and done that. Life is not easy by any means whatsoever. Don't bastarise yourself because you are going through this hell. If I can make it through this, Anyone can. Believe me. My Name is Josh and I had a problem with Opiates. I know you wont be able to comment on this, But if you have any questions or need someone to talk to. DM on here. I check this probably every 2 or 3 days.
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I love you guys.

TL;DR: I have Lyme disease and it sucks.
F'ing Lyme disease, that's what. It ruined every area of my life, stole everything I ever had or wanted, burned every bridge I had built, and left me a twisted, sick, tired, decrepit, marginally functional body and brain.
Here's what my day was just before I became symptomatic:
6 AM: wake, eat, gather gear and leave the house 7-8 swim lessons 9-12 worked as a mechanic 12-12:30 ran two miles for lunch 12:30-6 finished working 7 leave home on my bike and ride the 5 miles to the Do Jo 8-9 teach a class 9-10 take a class bike home repeat
On Saturdays, I either rode 40-100 mile rides with my bike club or I ran a triathlon
To say I was in good shape would be an understatement.
Add to that I'm an Aspie with a savant level IQ and you had one very competent, healthy, if not quirky man, father, husband. I worked in the ministry on Sundays mostly with children, which tells me I was respected and admired by my peers on many levels. I had a large social circle for a family man in his mid-30s and was really enjoying life in general.
Then we moved to FL. After being there for about six months or so I got bitten by a snake and the hospital loaded me up with high doses of steroids and that let all hell loose upon me. About three years earlier I had what I thought was a severe case of the flu, so bad it wound me up in the hospital on IV antibiotics for a week. I was asthmatic as a kid and had just moved back to NYC from small-town TX and figured it was due to the lower air quality in NYC triggering the asthma. I couldn't have been more wrong, it was Lyme disease, but at the time it was still considered rare and kind of exotic if that's the right word, so it wasn't looked for. Killing Lyme disease isn't easy for many reasons and one week of IV antibiotics isn't enough to do it. What it is enough to do is cause it to go into spore capsules to protect itself. It's kind of like they form an eggshell around themselves and continue to live and breed inside it. TB is probably the best-known illness that does this. The Lyme does its thing inside the spore capsule until it senses it's safe to come out, it's called being opportunistic. With the way I kept myself healthy it didn't stand a chance, so it stayed there for years getting stronger. Then the shot of steroids lowered my immune system enough for it to come out and begin its destruction.
The first thing I noticed was that I was constantly feeling jittery like I had drunk too much coffee. So I stopped all caffeinated drinks for two weeks and it was still doing it. But I didn't have time to go to the doctor and it was nothing really, just a little jittery. Then I noticed my times were getting slower and my heart rate was getting higher, that's backward for an endurance athlete. Then my joints were getting really achy all the time, but I figured I was training too hard and my body wasn't used to the heat in FL. So I started taking ibuprofen, all the time, every day. I had an old injury on my shoulder and every now and then it would flare up and I'd go to the Dr and get a cortisone shot, yes, more steroids. This time it was a new doctor so he took fresh x-rays. He saw there was a little damage, but nothing bad, so he shot me up with the cortisone. Usually, it would hurt more the rest of that day but the next day it would start to feel a lot better. This time it just kept getting worse so I had to go back to see the Dr again. Understand too, every doctor's appointment was a two-week wait. That waiting was one of the worst parts of it all. So two weeks later he examins me and by now my shoulder is really hurting, and don't forget I was taking 4 ibuprofen every 6 hours like clockwork this whole time. He decided to take another x-ray, he looked at it and now there was significant damage and he said I needed to have surgery to repair it. He also said he had never seen a joint degrade that fast. After waiting two weeks for the appointment to get the surgery the damage had gotten so bad he needed to take an inch of bone off my collar bone to fix it.
After it had its fun attacking my endocrine (source of the jitteriness) system and joints the Lyme decided to move into my central nervous system (CNS), and that's when the fun really started. There's nothing like a raging brain infection to wreak havoc on the things my brain and spine controlled, so in short, everything. I couldn't focus, it felt like I was living life from a foggy third-person perspective. The jitteriness became noticeable shaking in my hands. I'd be standing still and my legs would just stop supporting me and I'd fall straight down. But still, I felt I was too busy to go see a doctor.
Then the ibuprofen caught up with me and I started getting PAIN in my chest. It was like an icepick under my ribcage. But still, I didn't go to a doctor, I didn't have time, "I'm fine, leave me alone." Then the family is sitting in a restaurant eating when one of the sharp pains hit HARD. My wife noticed me grab my chest and wince, I was busted and she shuffled me off to the ER thinking it was a heart attack of some sort. From all the ibuprofen I had been taking I had given myself ulcers in my stomach and all the way up my esophagus. Luckily that was easy~ish to deal with.
Then the Mrs and I were in K-Mart and my leg gave out and she saw me fall. I got "the look" and she asked me what happened. Telling her it was becoming a common occurrence didn't go over well and once again I was shuffled off to the ER.
Then the seizures started, at least we thought they were seizures. Every time I had one that the wife saw I would get sent to the ER and get another MRI of my head and spine, both with and without contrast, aka about thirty minutes in a tube listening to it bang and whine. What was actually happening was I was having TIAs. Basically my brain was being starved of oxygen to the point it was shutting down on me, they thought it was caused by micro-strokes and didn't have the good sense to consider other causes. In the case of Lyme disease, TIAs are caused by blood flow at the capillaries being hindered, I don't know the exact way it does it, but it did it to my lungs too once and I was on a respirator for a week. I was having two or three a day for about a year the first time. Oh ya, I said "the first time", there was a "second time", this isn't a short rant.
Finally, they were 100% sure they had it figured out. I was seeing a highly respected neurologist who told me I had ALS and with the rate, it was progressing I had three months of useful consciousness left, at best, and would most likely be dead in six months. I'd studied martial arts most all of my life, I've had some big ass dudes kick me square in the stomach with complete abandon knocking me back twenty feet, and it was feather-light compared to the kick in the gut hearing that statement was. He had to do one more test for the insurance companies but assured me there was no way they were going to find anything. He said they were only checking for exotic illnesses that aren't found in the US, and he knew, it was what he did, he f'ckin' knew it was ALS and I was a dead man walking. It was a spinal tap that he had to send off to a lab in CO and it would take three weeks to get the results. Can you hold your breath for three weeks? Can you hold onto a hope that only exists in a statement of faith in a God that was bigger than any illness? I told him there was no way my God was letting me go down like this, not like this, I had kids to raise, it wasn't going to happen. I told him he was going to find something, and it was going to be curable, and I was going to live. He smugly sat back in his chair and said, "that's just the kind of attitude you need to face this."
When my wife saw me she immediately knew something bad had happened. All I could say was, "don't worry about it, he's wrong, I just know he's wrong." I couldn't even focus to see two steps in front of me. The nurse gave the Mrs the sample of my spinal fluid and headed us off to the local lab so they could do some things to it before it got sent out to CO. Thank God the Mrs was paying attention. One of the samples needed to be frozen and they weren't going to freeze it, it would have been ruined and we'd have had to wait another three weeks after the next appointment I could get with my very life in limbo. The looks on the faces of my wife, 11-year-old daughter, and 5-year-old son when I told them was something I'll never forget.
In the third week every time the phone would ring we'd all jump and run to see if it was the doctor with the results. When he called me in is when he told me it was Lyme and he was wrong about the ALS. He referred me to an infectious disease specialist. When I met the guy he said to me, "I'm excited to have you as a patient, I've never had one with Lyme disease before." That wasn't great for my confidence. He gave me four weeks of daily IV antibiotics. When he was done I was still symptomatic and he said to me, "the antibiotics will continue to work, don't believe the stuff you read on the internet." And sure enough, I really did start to feel better, I even started to run again. I got a decent job and thought things were back on track after a two-year detour. Then the TIAs started again and the disconnect from reality was back. I started to notice impulse control problems too. I made a few provocative comments to one of my pastor's wives. Not that he had multiple wives, but that we had multiple pastors who each had their own wife. I stopped my hand inches away from slapping the ass of another one's. Some sister said something about some guy staring at her chest while he was talking to her so I said to her, "If you didn't want people to look at them you should have covered them up before you left your house; you get what you advertise for." That didn't go over well. My temper became explosive and I became a total a$$ho*e. I was in and out of the hospital so much I knew the staff by name in both the ER and on the floors. They absolutely, totally, 100% refused to consider that the Lyme had returned. They'd do an Elisa test for it sometimes but that would always come back negative. That test looked for the natural antibodies I should have been producing but it had been in my system so long it no longer produced them. I needed either a Western Blot test or a PCR test, but I'm just a stupid patient, they're Doctor god and know all.
I just realized I left out the best part about the antibiotic treatment, the jarisch herxheimer reaction (herxing). That's a f'in blast. When the Lyme dies it doesn't just go quietly into that dark night, naw, it's a freakin' Nazi that pulls the pin on a grenade as it dies to take you with him. When Lyme dies it releases toxins that make you sick, and I mean chemotherapy sick. You vomit till there's not only nothing left in your stomach but the stomachs of all the people in a ten-block radius. And with Lyme, it cycles with its life cycle. So the first week there's a big die off and you're the sickest, then you get a week off, then it's back on for another week, but not quite as bad as last time, then when it ends you feel better than the last break week, and the cycle repeats. It's a total blast, I highly recommend it for your next holiday's recreational activity.
I loved my new job. It was one of the few union jobs available in FL and it was perfect for me and my autism since I worked alone all day long. My bosses really loved me and appreciated the work I was doing. I had the asst mgr say to me, "We know who works and who doesn't around here, don't think we don't. We see what you're doing, you have a future here." I was thrilled. But like I said, the TIAs were back. I was hoping to hold on long enough to make the union, two weeks before I did my manager found me on the floor having one of the TIAs. They had to let me go and that was the last real job I had.
The brain damage had started to get what I thought was significant. I was hardly able to form sentences, I simply couldn't remember the words for things. I'd have the thought, I knew what I wanted to say, but I just couldn't remember the names of things. After a year and a half since the symptoms returned I was a mess in every way possible. Then it decided to do damage to my spine and I had a transverse myelitis, aka, a stroke in my spine. I lost the ability to use or feel much of anything from my ribcage down. I was given a 50/50 chance that I'd ever be able to walk again and a 30% chance I'd ever be able to walk without assistance. Within a week I was up walking with a cuff crutch on one arm and left the hospital. This hurt me badly emotionally too. My legs? I ran, I biked, I swam, I did Kenpo, I even danced when I was in college, I moved with grace and fluidity, my walk was a confident strut, and now I had dead legs I was forcing to move. It took me four years to get to the point where I was able to walk without a limp, and most of the time I still can. It's not a proper gait, my right leg often doesn't work so I swing it like it's a mid-thigh prosthetic, I'm just really good at disguising it. Running and biking it totally out of the question, as is driving a clutch.
That was the final straw with these incompetent, arrogant, ignorant doctors, I set out determined to learn everything I could about Lyme disease. Never give a savant a purpose, there's no stopping us. I figured out what was going on with my brain and why I was having the TIAs. I convinced my doctor to order a SPEC scan to look at blood flow in my brain. Bingo! There it was, that was the problem, and a great indicator that I was still fighting Lyme disease. That doctor didn't like that I showed her up so she dropped me as a patient. I found out what would be the best course of action to take directly against the Lyme and went doctor shopping until I found an infectious disease specialist who would treat me that way. I found an NYC transplant who was actually familiar with Lyme and knew almost immediately what he was looking at. At this point, I was a total wreck. I could hardly walk, talk, or control my emotions. I thought if he could only stop the progression I'd at least be able to live and be a father to my kids. He ordered the Lyme PCR test and during the two weeks we were waiting for it I had another wife observed TIA and was admitted to the hospital once again. It was a Friday night and my ID doctor kept the Jewish sabbath so they didn't bother calling him until Sunday. I was given a horrific neurologist who was sure there was nothing wrong with me and just basically kept me sedated till my PC doctor could deal with me. On Sunday my PC doctor came to see me and apparently the Neuro had filled his head with the idea that I wasn't really sick and he was starting to give me the speech when the phone rang. The Mrs answered it, looked at my PC doctor and said, "It's for you." He was standing at the foot of my bed when he took the call. I could clearly hear being screamed on the other end of the phone, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE MY PATIENT IN THE HOSPITAL AND YOU DON"T CALL ME!!!!" He read him the riot act and with each bellow, it looked like my PC shrank into his lab coat a little. He handed the receiver to the Mrs and told me the treatment regime that was about to start. It was 6 months of the daily IV antibiotics followed by double doses of two types of oral antibiotics for the 8 months after that. Yep, fourteen months of Herxing. Imagine someone going through a fourteen-month long course of chemotherapy. It was truly torturous.
But it's me, it's never, ever that simple. During that time I got a kidney stone, almost lost my gall bladder, lost everything to three major hurricanes that hit my town, and sank into a depression that was so deep and dark I don't have the words to describe it. All I could think about, and I mean all, was killing myself. I was so sick of being sick. I was so sick of the rollercoaster of each new doctor saying they got it figured out only to find out they didn't. I was tested, poked, and prodded in every way imaginable as they looked for anything that wasn't Lyme disease that was causing my problems.
The oral antibiotics had the added advantage of one of their tastes. If you've ever tested a 9-volt battery on your tongue you know that electric, metallic taste you get, that's what the pills tasted like when they hit my tongue, six times a day, for eight months. The rest of the time they left the residual effect of a taste in my mouth that reminded me of the flavor of pennies. That was constant.
But when it was all over I had improved so much I was overjoyed. The ID doctor sat me down and explained to me how the neuro damage would never heal and my arthritis would just continue to get worse. He said my brain was able to make new pathways around the damage, but the road to recovery for my type of brain damage was a "long, slow road: if ever." And that road was too long and too slow for my wife. This is when the depression really kicked in. I saw my marriage falling apart and it was the only thing I had left in the world that mattered to me, and I was helpless to do anything about it. All my efforts backfired and I was so out of control emotionally I'm sure it was unbearable for her. A large part of my brain damage was to my frontal lobe which caused a total personality change. My wife said it was like Invasion of the Body Snatchers and she felt like someone had abducted her husband, put my twin there, and were trying to convince her we were the same person. All I could think of was killing myself. I couldn't help but think of how much better off my family would be without who I had become being involved in their lives. It would be better if they have me die than have me keep doing damage to my family and life, and their lives by extension. The only reason I didn't do it many times was my son was the first one home in the afternoon and I couldn't let him be the one who found me dead in the house. While driving down the road every tree, every telephone pole, every light post were opportunities to end it all. I couldn't shake the obsession and I finally mentioned it to my doctor who started me on anti-depressants and referred me to a shrink. But the combination of meds wasn't right and after one fight with the Mrs., I downed over 100 muscle relaxers. I was taken to the hospital and put on a 72-hour hold. They changed my meds and let me out. A few weeks later I had another fight with the Mrs, she just refused to give me the time I needed to heal. No one would. Every church gathering's lessons suddenly became about how a man has to provide for his family. I know on the outside I didn't look that bad, but I couldn't mentally function. I had four attempts in six months. With the fourth one, they put me in residential treatment and my wife served me with divorce papers. Dumped me in the hospital and left me there. I unstitched the ribbon that attached the top of my mattress to the side of my mattress, formed a noose with it and tried to hang myself while in the hospital.
Eventually, I feigned sanity and got myself released after a little over three months in there. God bless the wonderful staff in that residential treatment facility, they were all so wonderful, kind, loving, and compassionate. With the lack of activity and side effects of drugs I wound up gaining nearly 200 lbs and maxed out at 398 lbs. While in that treatment facility I got down to 290. I was also screwing around with one of the other patients and wound up tearing my ACL and meniscus. One of the problems is they were trying to treat brain damage as a psychiatric disorder. Largely because they didn't the kind of doctor I needed, a neuro-psychologist. If you're psychotic and have a serious mental illness, you need a psychiatrist who can write prescriptions and treat you medically; if you are neurotic and having emotional processing issues, you need a psychologist to help you work through them, like a phobia kind of thing; if you have brain damage you need a neuro-psychologist who specialized in helping people adjust to their new normal. Not that I didn't need medication for my depression, but most of what I was dealing with was the result of brain damage and not a mental illness.
I tried getting my own place, but I couldn't function. The pain was incessant and went from mild to leaving me lying on my floor holding my hip with tears running down my temples. It didn't matter how many drugs I took, nothing touched it. I was taking four percocets and six muscle relaxers, and nada. I am a recovered alcoholic and didn't believe a word about "medical marijuana", but whatever, have at it Snoop and Willie, do you Boo Boo, right? Then I heard Montel Williams talking about his fight with MS. MS strips the outer layer of your nerve cells off, and Lyme does that too, so some of my symptoms are MS-like. He talked about going through the gamut of all the pharmaceuticals, the alternative therapies, and how nothing worked for him. Then he got talked into trying cannabis and he said he couldn't believe the relief he got from it, and how fast it worked for him. He, I respect as a person and would in no way consider him a stoner making excuses, so what he said I was able to listen to. But I had no plans on trying it, ever. Then one night the muscles in my hip were in full spasm again, it was like an ice pick going into my hip and up under my pelvic bone. It was truly unbearable. I decided to end it right then and there. I was going to go jump off the overpass in front of a truck. I hadn't done that in the past because I felt compassion for the driver of the truck and couldn't make him go through life knowing he'd killed someone. But this night was so bad I simply didn't care anymore. When I walked out of my apartment I saw that my neighbor had put her trash out by the side of her door. She was an older lady and whenever she did this I took the bad and tossed it in the dumpster for her. So this night was no different, I saw her trash bag and went to grab it. When I did I got that distinct smell of weed coming out her window. I tossed the bag in the dumpster and thought to myself, "I haven't tried everything, there's one thing left, cannabis." I knocked on her door and told her I smelled it and asked if she'd smoke me out. I figured I'd cough like crazy, but it went down smooth and out without a problem. I took the obligatory two hits and passed, she did the same. I got it back, took another two hits and passed it back to her. And then boom, the spasms stopped. That quickly, that easily, gone. It was still sore, but the severe pain was gone. That night cannabis saved my life.
I managed to get another place but soon got evicted from there too. I tried to go stay with my sister but that didn't work out either and I wound up on the streets of NYC. But my God intervened and I was only on the street for a few hours before I found a friend of a friend who let me stay in his penthouse apartment overlooking the East River. I stayed there for about a week then went back to FL where I rented a room at a boarding house. I wound up developing a semi-functional relationship with the owner of the house and we were friends with benefits for nearly two years before we both moved out of FL around the same time. I managed to get myself surrounded by a large social group again. Not "godly" people by any stretch of the imagination, but some of the highest quality people I've ever known, all of whom I love dearly to this day. I really didn't like having the possibility of getting busted for having weed in FL and doing time because I was trying to treat my post Lyme issues, so I decided to move to a legal state. I was starting to get back involved with the church too, which is another story, but I was hoping to meet a woman from the church and started looking at a church centric site. I met a woman from CA and we really hit it off. On a fundamental level we just got each other in ways I never had with anyone else. I decided to move out here and we wound up getting married. I learned to grow my own weed, got plugged into my church as much as I can, got with a great neruo-psych doctor who had a Lyme patient and was quite familiar with it. I really needed time to heal, apparently when the ID doc said, "long slow road" he wasn't kidding. It's been around 15 years since I stopped the oral antibiotics and I'm still wrestling with things, some of which will never heal or change. Arthritis and joint degradation has progressed to the point where I have only 2 disks in my neck and am missing several from my thorax. My fine motor skills have returned and my hands work well for short periods of time. I can walk for about a mile. I can speak with clarity the majority of the time, I still lose words or use the wrong ones, but I'm understandable most of the time. My pain is mostly manageable. I wound up developing tourettisim which is like Tourette's but is caused as an aftereffect of a brain infection. I'm lucky enough to not only have the physical tics but I get the full-on vulgar vocalizations. Even better is what I consider stupidity is one of my major triggers, now remember my IQ is up in savant levels, so y'all are all suspect and just about anyone can trigger me off at any given point. The insomnia is one of the hardest things for me to deal with. There are several things that can cause me to not sleep, sometimes it's pain, sometimes it's that jitteriness, sometimes it's the nightmares about doctors wanting to do more useless, painful tests on me. I have PTSD from all of it and when I had the three x-rays taken of my next the next day I was in the fetal position in my living room, holding onto my wife's ankle, begging her to not let the doctors get to me. It's quite a sight. That terror attack kept me shaken up for almost a week. I have sensory processing disorder and can no longer be around crowds without getting overwhelmed which means I can no longer attend church services and that really sucks. I also have a problem code-switching my language. Think of it like this, if my first language was Italian I'd start talking in it without noticing. But I'm a Brooklyn Italian, I have a vulgar mouth, or did growing up. I worked hard to learn how to not cuss and swear in every sentence when I first got involved with the church in my 20s. That just vanished and I'll start swearing while I am having a normal conversation.
When I'm stressed things tend to start going in the wrong direction, the new pathways get bypassed and my brain starts trying to access the damaged pathways. It's how it works. The longer the new connections have been there the stronger they are, so they start coming back in reverse order. It's frustrating and disheartening, and right now we just put our house on the market and I'm totally overworked and overstressed and haven't had four good hours of sleep in over a week, maybe two.
I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired, the more my brain heals by worse my body gets. I get tired of being high all the time. I get tired of popping pills all the time. I just want a normal life, but that's not something I'm allowed to have.
So now that I've gotten that off my chest, I'm going to smoke a fat joint and try to get some sleep. I mean it's 5:30 AM, it's as good a time as any to try.
I hope this isn't too long to post.