Burning chest sore throat

I feel like I need to be sick like there’s a weird sensation in throat like burning I also have like a dull pain in my heart that comes and goes it’s been like this on off for a while also my stomach constantly growls for no reason been like that since December I’m a 21 year old male

I recently had to test for c diff because I had a gnarly stomach virus(ended up not being c diff) and my results were toxin a/b negative and c diff antigen was negative as well, does this mean i will not relapse again with antibiotics since the antigen test was negative as well?
Anywaysssss.. i woke up today with a horrible sore throat which I think is strep, but I’m terrified to take antibiotics for it. Any advice on these two things?
Thanks!!!

I'm a girl, im 17.. I have bad depression and anxiety from my parents... when I was little, I feel so safe and happy and comfortable around my parents, but it's like as I got older... I realize they are manipulative. Both of them are the cause of my misophonia, they are always making weird noises around me... My dad is always sniffing loudly, and making weird grunting noises around me, they sound innapropiate, I feel violated and raped everyday... Hes the main one I try to avoid.. he always lectures me, saying manipulative things like "you have no reason to be depressed, depression isn't a mental illness, I had it way worse" "you have food, clothes, drawing paper and a roof over your head, you should be happy, why choose to be sad" this is some of the things he said in one of his recent lectures.. and hes so creepy honestly as a person, he also said "if you're so depressed why do you eat happy food in the kitchen, you might as well eat depressing foods like eating your own boogers or drinking boring water and eating boring food like bread" he also gets mad at me like it's my fault that he's creepy and manipulative. He says things like "I'm tired of you ruining my dinner just because you feel depressed, stop making other people miserable just because you feel violated, I don't want to hear about your feelings while I'm eating" he gets upset if I'm holding my hands a certain way. he says "stop holding your hands like that, put your hands down, how is that comfortable" he's always controlling me. My mom took up for him... She never says anything but it's like this time she was agreeing with him... I wanted to prove to him that he was wrong, because I'm tired of this.. I said "but it's comfortable to me" he got angry and said "are you trying to make me angry" this is what my "mom" said... She said "don't talk, don't say anything just listen" she kept talking and talking up for him... my dad said "and it's like she's always trying to fight me" he said to my mom.. my mom kept betraying me and said "because it looks retarded when you put your hands up like that, only people with special needs do things like that, people will look at you and think you're retarded" I couldn't anymore... My dad agreed with her and said "exactly".. he thinks I'm "insane" because I have depression, hes always asking me weird things that make me uncomfortable like "do you want to go to the insane asylum" "if you don't stop acting like this people will see you and call the insane asylum people on you and they will kill me and take you away" he says that I'm selfish because I have "alot of things" and that he "feels the same wa", that he's depressed because I avoid him, like it's my fault he's annoying and creepy. My parents are also on this weird religion and the think the world is gonna end, and they say if I don't stop acting like this I will get destroyed and go to hell. I can't even have depression in this house... I can't even remember everything he says because when I get stressed out and overwhelmed I forget things alot,but let's just say he's just manipulative just narcisstic and I feel so trapped. He also says that he's the "man of the house" and that we should do what he says, and that if he's not happy, no one else is gonna be happy either, he acts like he's the god, like everything is about him.. he always guilt trips me and says he's sick and hes an old man and I act like I don't care.. he's always saying disturbing things like I will regret this one day... He is just very manipulative, he always says manipulative things and he just makes me feel uncomfortable, I feel violated... I also feel like he's a pedo he's always making weird grunting noises around me.. my mom makes me feel uncomfortable and violated alot too, she's always making weird signing noises around me, always touchy feely, whenever she's around me it's like she's moaning I don't know I feel uncomfortable even saying this- and she gets upset if I get angry and tell her to stop.. I also have anger issues and get frustrated easily, and it's mostly because my parents.. today she tried to give medicine in this syringe thing, she told me to put it in my mouth, and when I was trying to it sounded like she was moaning. I got very uncomfortable and pulled away and yelled and told her to leave me alone, she gets angry and says "be quiet your dad is going to hear you" and it's also so creepy how it sounds like she's grunting when she talks or is around me, I get creepy vibes from her, like she's creepily obsessed with me, she is always touching me, she won't get out of my face.. it's mostly my dad because he just scares me and makes me want to run away and hide, I get even more creepy vibes from him.. but my mom is also starting to make me uncomfortable, I feel like she's creepily obsessed with me... :( She walked away and said "you get on my damn nerves" like she's upset I feel violated and abused. I said "you're creepy" she got upset and said "you're the one who's weird you keep telling and screaming" I can't anymore.. it's like she gets mad at me for feeling violated... She is also manipulative, and just creepy.. she is always looking at me weird. everytime she hands something to me it sounds like she's moaning, and I pull away in discomfort. one time she handed me food and I took it out she wouldn't stop touching my hands. She touched my hand before I pulled away, and made a Innapropiate sounding signing noise. I pulled away, feeling very uncomfortable and creeped out. And she gets upset when I tell her to stop. Like she gets upset that she can't harrass me.. she's also creepy :( it's hard to be around them during dinner, they are always signing and grunting around me when they are eating food, and when I get uncomfortable from this I go to the bathroom, he lectures me for "staying in the bathroom too long" and " I know you're staying in the bathroom to avoid me" and "if you don't stop acting like this you are going to bed". Whenever he lectures me,whenever I try to tell him he is wrong, he doesn't listen and says I am "talking back" he always cuts you off. This is why I hate him, and don't like to be around him. He says even more narcisstic things like, "you came from me, you might look more like your mom but you're really me" the other time he said this, I told him "but I'm not you" he gets upset and says "I KNOW YOU ARE NOT ME, BUT YOU STILL CAME FROM ME" he is always saying that if I don't like him, then I don't like myself, he says that "you think I am annoying look in the mirror sometimes" I hate him... both of my parents say narcisstic things, and just make me feel uncomfortable everyday.. I have pgad from feeling so violated from them, and other problems caused by them.. my dad is always asks me why I'm depressed, in his lectures, over and over, and won't stop asking me to give him an "explanation" on why I'm depressed, he makes me so uncomfortable. But I have to force myself to answer his questions, even though it makes me uncomfortable.. I just feel so stressed out and burned out from being around them, like they suck up all my air in the room, like they take away my energy and comfort.. even when I am by myself, like now, I still feel their presence... I feel so uncomfortable even writing this, I am not good at explaining things, but I just had to get this off my chest, I feel so lost and trapped.. do you think my parents are narcissists.. I have felt so violated and depressed once I have attempted running away, my mom scolded me chased me down the road, I can't even run away, I feel so trapped and helpless.. please help me.. :(

I've been diagnosed with c3 c4 hernjated disc in January plus c5 c6 protusion. Neuro said the dizziness comes from there, it went away for like 2 months, now it's back. Done also Brain MRI to exclude tumours and stroke. I've done ekg multiple times chest xray blood work, everything came back fine.
Now I am experiencing a little bit of breathing issues, sometimes feeling comes from stomach, sometimes chest, sometimes throat, it lasted for more than a month. Anyone experienced this? Could neck issues and nerve compression affect this as well?

My partner has come down with Covid for the first time whilst away on a business trip. They’ve extended their time away and have been able to avoid coming home to the wife and kids, who are all novids and hoping to keep things that way for as long as possible!
Partner tested positive on Saturday and has started to feel better today, and is eager to come home, but still testing positive. I’d like to see a negative RAT result. GP has told him 5 days isolation only. The info online that I can find doesn’t quite support what the GP is telling him, and I’d like to know what the general consensus is? What’s everyone else doing to make sure it’s safe for them and the general public to exit isolation after they’ve had COVID?
From betterhealth.vic.gov.au website: Most people are still infectious after 5 days and you should stay home if you are still experiencing symptoms like a runny nose, sore throat, cough, shortness of breath, fever, chills, or sweats.
A negative RAT result is a helpful tool to determine whether you are still infectious. If you’re unsure about ending your isolation, you should contact a GP.
Wear a face mask when you leave home for at least 7 days after testing positive as you may still be infectious.

Hello i have bronchial asthma and i use sympicort 2 times a day, i do know that i have to use it 12 hours apart, but i have to ask is it okay if i use it 10 or 11 hours apart ?
In the past i had a sore throat because i was really inconsistent with timing my dosages right (EXAMPLE: every 6 or 8 hours apart)
In conclusion of course i will ask my doc about this, i just want to hear from people who take sympicort as well and what are their experiences like.
Thank you

To live in the Undead Burg is a daily test of one’s wit and their will. The brutish and dull fall to the cunning, and the weak intellectual tears their own mind asunder. For those who escape the Asylum, it is sometimes enough to make one consider voyaging back to their cell.
After all, only a few are Chosen.
In the lower levels of the Undead Burg, a cloak of rat skin fluttered behind a walking corpse as they hurriedly turned the corner of a short length of stone stairs, slamming the shield of a hollow soldier against the ground just as the claws and fangs of the first hound rose to meet it. In truth he lacked the strength to properly defend himself with the thing, to raise it with only one arm and withstand a blow with the same, but it didn’t matter here. The lower corner of the shield lay braced against the bottommost of a length of stone steps. This, with his shoulder pressed against the shield’s top, made progress against him nearly impossible for a foe so light as this.
If idiocy was to lose one’s common sense, then it couldn’t account for the stupidity of an undead hound. The corpse raised a spear over the shield and swung it downward in a pathetic arc, the wood slapping against the metal with hardly a noise to report. Seeing the motion, the dog leapt sideways out of some horribly trained reflex, and in this manner crashed into large pile of eternally burning corpses. It yelped as the heat caught it, spasmed as it searched for purchase amidst the mass of charred bones and melted flesh, and promptly died. The commotion brought with it the sound of distant footsteps, and soon another beast had run headlong into the shield. This one took two similar “attacks” of the spear to repeat its fellow’s mistake, and the one after it four.
To think he had once been terrified of these things, and discovered his tactic in panic.
Beside the steps was a well, and (after a moment to ensure no further dogs were coming), it was this against which the corpse laid his heavy shield. The next test between him and his goal would require agility, something ill-afforded with such heavy hardware. For this, he turned his attention to the well’s crank, and set thereafter to turning it. From the depths was raised a target shield tied in place of a bucket, and upon it a collection of bones, a severed hand, a ring, and a candlestick. The corpse laid the miscellaneous treasures aside, untying the shield and equipping it to his left arm.
The first two thieves were marked by buckets… or rather, the buckets were set in place to tell the thieves which doors were to be hid behind. As travelers came and went, the buckets would roll down the hill as they were knocked aside or blown by the wind or carried around by the dogs, and thus the thieves’ stations would move. When it was determined one had rolled too far down the decline of the alleyway, an annoyed thief would inevitably carry it to a more desired station, pretend it had always been there, and hide themselves behind the newly marked door. It was possible some band of thieves set this tradition in place long ago and retained the habit after they’d eventually gone hollow, but proving this thought today would be nearly beyond impossible. The reasoning didn’t matter to the corpse, of course, but the effect he used to his advantage.
The tops of the doors he adorned with knives from the Lady of Moss- blades up, such that the forceful opening of the door would spin the knives just right to sink their poisonous bile into the victims below. What additional wastes and acids the corpse had applied need not be mentioned by name, only that they shared their patron creature with the leather cloak on his back. With his work done, he now walked the side of the alley as any clueless traveler would have, and awaited the springing of the trap.
As always, the third and lowermost thief signaled the attack by kicking open their door. The two now behind the corpse followed, and shortly thereafter issued their raspy exhales of pain amidst the clatter of falling steel. The corpse charged. The leader hurriedly reached for their throwing knives but was swiftly force-fed the edge of the corpse’s shield, thusly to be brought to the ground. Here was the corpse’s blade drawn, its cracked and jagged tip turned down towards its latest prey.
When skinning rats, it is important that one carries a sharp blade. This both to pierce the thick hide, and to avoid unnecessary damage to the intestines, stomach, and other usable bits lying beneath. Replacing the rat with a hollow, the corpse preferred the tip of a broken straight sword to the edge of his usual dagger. The motions made indeed bore some crude similarity to his work when harvesting leather, but the abandon of care became only more evident with each forceful cut and flailingly resisted gouge. In the end, what remained could hardly be discerned from a spot of muck on the road, a hollow-faced madman above it.
Further down, beyond a second set of stone steps, was another favorite spot of ambush for the thieves. The mutts at the end of the alley had long since devoured whatever scraps had been used to position them, and so readily charged forth at the beckoning call of the corpse. They found at his feet the now separated legs of the corpse’s most recent kill, adorned in many fresh gouges and oozing with a pungent liquid. The source of this meal mattered not to them, and so they eagerly set to work engorging themselves on the new flesh. So single-minded were they, intent on ridding themselves of the insatiable undead hunger that plagued them, that neither one slowed as a white foam began to pour from their mouths. Their stomachs first bulged, then split apart and spilt what little they had for content as the acid worked its way through. Their legs gave way from beneath them, first the hind, then the front, and yet still they desperately swallowed more of the decaying flesh and embedded stomach-skin pouches that rapidly digested them in return. When at last the pair had at last lost such strength as to no longer reach the meals inches away from their first gasping, then whining maws, the corpse delivered their mercy. A swift kick, and what little remained of their necks gave freedom to their lifeless skulls. The thieves, meanwhile, bore no challenge the corpse had not already faced. Knives over the first few doors, the greeting of jaw and shield, the pillaging of another victim. Nothing unusual, and nothing of note.
With the capra demon gone, some “chosen” adventurer having long since vanquished it from realm, little now stood between the corpse and… her… save only one thing. The corpse took the last flight of stairs three at a time, ricocheting off the wall on the outside of its only turn and bounding towards his target.
There she was, out in the open as always. The corpse sprinted down the stairs and, after passing a blind corner, set his left foot forward and crouched to halt his considerable momentum. The ambusher behind him was easily parried as he brought his shield up and behind him, cracking something in their forearm or perhaps their wrist. Not bothering to waste time, the corpse’s broken blade was brought upwards through the ambusher’s jaw until it snapped the bit bone between their eyes. This done, the corpse wrenched his weapon up and sideways with a hollow “pop” as the neck gave leave of its skull. The body collapsed to the side, its head twisting unnaturally upwards and backwards as it freed itself of the blade. The corpse, unbothered, bore no interest in holding either aloft. Now he turned, inspected the last of the thieves, and after a moment returned his blade to its holder.
“You are Patient.”
This first time he’d uttered the phrase, the last word was merely an attribute. ‘Twas a description of the one hollow that could be shot with any arrow, afflicted with any pain, and would yet remain loyally in her position. To be fair, it wasn’t for great gift a choice, as the position of “live bait” was reserved only for whichever of the thieves had been deemed least desirable by the rest. What caused this, and whatever penalties lay for abandoning of the post, were matters the corpse could only assume. The important part was that it was her, the thief who had become “Patient” by name. At their first encounter the corpse had considered dispatching her like the rest, but had hesitated in piercing her skin. He still bore the scar about his neck that she had given him for his idleness, and she still wore the rat skin “grieves” he’d forcefully tied to her for a marker. As time passed, the two gradually traded more scars and more black fur hide between them- the corpse receiving the former, Patient gaining the latter. He had stripped her and tied a pelt about her chest which lay now beneath her leather armor, he’d fashioned a double-thick leather stock to protect her neck, and though he tied gloves to her at a point she’d taken great effort in cutting them off. All this he had done across many visits, through much pain, and at expense of his best materials. Todays gift had by far been the hardest to craft- a thrice layered leather helm affixed on one side with a jawbone to replace what he’d broken so long ago.
His approach was slow, and well-rehearsed. At about ten paces, Patient’s patience finally broke as she ran for him. Today she chose to hesitate upon reaching him, though he'd learned this was by chance of random choice than any form of compassion. The corpse waited for the attack, not daring to kick another outcast as he had once been in life. She tried first her more viscous pattern, a pair of vigorous strikes that slid across the corpse’s target shield rather than bouncing away. She completed the maneuver and immediately prepared for a more powerful, slamming attack, granting the corpse the opportunity he had been seeking.
As she brought her blade down, the corpse deftly batted her strong hand away and gripped her shield with his open hand. Having no further need for his own shield, he cast it now away and spun the patient thief ‘round. She made as if to leap upward and over the corpse, but the maneuver was one he’d long since learned to counter. He stepped back, spinning himself so as to bring her sideways and around and down into a prone position with his right elbow along her back and his left hand pinning her knife arm down.
His next task, before gifts could be given, was to ensure he received no further scars in return. Placing his knee at her back to free one of his hands, he drew from beneath his cloak a coil of red twine fashioned from the same rats he’d skinned for his gift… some of the same, at least. With great effort, the twine was managed around the thief until she could no longer terribly well resist, and her hood was pulled back from her head.
Seeing the sunken red skin, the glowing eyes, the bare teeth, it reminded the corpse of life in the Pit of Outcasts. It was there he’d met the kindest of the living, the most desperate of the poor, and occasionally even a soul or two willing to speak or come close to him. ‘Twas a place for the diseased, the undead, and those criminals deemed too vile to disgrace the hangman’s noose with their neck. It was there he’d learned to knit and to sew, skills gifted to him from an undead woman not terribly discernable from the one before him now. The main difference, at least for now, was the slack jaw broken in uncountable pieces during their first encounter.
Casting the memories aside, the corpse set to his work. The leather about the thief’s neck stilled her head a little, but precisely cutting the skin beneath her jaw to remove the old bone was still a difficult task. The end result was unsightly, and it involved more than a few excessive cuts from the patient’s constant struggling, but it was enough to work with. Removing the old bone took a great deal of time thanks to the many fragments hidden in odd bits and pockets of flesh, but sliding the new one into place and wrapping it in the old muscle proved as easily said as done. The most tiring part was retying the cuts back closed, as the thief regained and continually demonstrated a greater ability to bite and snap as the corpse made more and more progress. The last of these gaps closed, the corpse finally wrapped the rest of the leather helmet about the thief’s skull and tied the loose end to the other side of her new jaw with more twine. It wasn’t his best work, but it was the best he’d done on something still kicking around.
Patient’s hood was returned to its proper position, and the corpse took hold of a length of twine connected to a slipknot in the middle of her back. Midway up the last stretch of stairs he’d come down, the twine was pulled and the knot it held gave way, restoring the thief her freedom. Knowing better than to stick around, the corpse fled to the top of the stairs, standing on the bridge overlooking her station just beyond where she would pursue. He watched as she freed herself of the last of the twine, as she looked to him, and as she eventually returned to her post. He said then the same thing he always said to her, though still he knew not if she recognized it.
“I am Aldin Paltry, the Leper of Hangknell. I will return again.”
He watched a moment more, but was paid not a glance in return. Back through the alley he went, bound for the dragon’s bridge.

It's me again. I thought since my last story was a sad one I'll post another that's not sad but I may be the AH.
My parents foster sister and my brother all went on a road trip. We did a lot of road trips this is just one out of many. Zera will be the name for my foster sister and Leo will be my brother and of course my wonderful parents Jenny and Lee.
One summer when I was 13 yrs old we went to visit another brother of mine in Louisiana. They lived not to far from New Orleans.
We went to New Orleans for dinner at a seafood restaurant. But where we went was on a strip that absolutely no cars were allowed and only people walking with a few bars that had motorcycles parked out front. Zera said oh look at these bikes. She is walking right up to them putting a finger out to touch. I said DONT TOUCH.. she did and these things started to fall like Domino's and I yell RUN. We were falling a little behind the family group so we caught up and then bikers came out and looked around and were obviously very pissed. I don't blame them. We get to the restaurant and while sitting there the bikers came in asking if anyone saw anything of someone messing with there motorcycles. My throat dropped into my stomach. But they left cause no one saw or said they did at all.
The two days after that we went to Alabama to a Phoenix five hotel very fancy thanks to my oldest brother. He makes bank. We where on the 13th floor with a balcony looking out to the ocean and beach also could see the hotels pool. People looked like ants. So the next day I met a couple kids a girl around my age also with my same name but spelt differently and her brother. As I'm swimming in the outdoor pool with them Zera comes up to me and shows me this long red narly looking burn thing wrapped around her arm and says a jelly fish stung me so I grabbed it and threw it as it left a tentacle on her and she ripped it off. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I couldn't help but laugh. So that night was one where the blue craps were mating on the ocean and the boy I met asked if I wanted to go with him to see them. I said sure as long as it's ok with my mom. So I asked and of course she said yes and then asked how old the boy was he was 15 so ya she said ok have fun. As I waited in the lobby for him Zera is bugging me begging to come with me. Finally I broke down and said fine. She never liked the fact that boys would pay attention to me. Doing more stupid things to get there attention. Any who we were walking on the beach watching all these beautiful dark blue crabs all over the beach with our flash light. Zera decides she wants to pick one up and proceeds to pick it up from the front. She knows better then that due to us crawfish hunting back at home. He then stops her and she finally holds it after he picked it up. She puts him down and starts to walk away and he comes up to me and asks. Does she have problems. I just replied with yeah not the brightest of the bulbs.
The next day we head over the state border to Florida so my mom could get her collectors magnet from the state just to finish her magnet map. We are at this little beach like shop they was selling hermit crabs. On their cages it says don't not put fingers in cage. And what does Zera decide to do put her finger in the cage. I'm looking at a rack of t-shirts hoping to get one and I hear this blood curdling scream. I look towards the scream and see Zera running through the store with a hermit attached to her finger as she flings her finger around trying to get it to release. The greatest part was the employees chasing after her telling her to stop running and they can help. The employees got the poor little guy off her finger and it was all good after that. We left very promptly afterwards.
We go on the road again the day after that as my oldest brother went back home we proceeded to our home doing a big loop in the states making a stop in Memphis Tennessee due to my mom being a big Elvis fan she want to go to the Elvis museum. We are walking around looking at all this history. We come up to this huge bronze statue of him with a sign stating don't touch the statue. My mom wanted us to take a picture in front of it as Zera put her arm behind and around said sign. Loud alarms start to Blair and I put my hands up saying it wasn't me, I didn't do it.
We finally get home and I made so much fun of her and would laugh at her cause I know she is smarter then doing all that. Eventually she started to laugh with me. But when I talk about this road trip I laugh and people look at me and say I'm horrible for laughing at her.
AITAH for laughing at Zera's misfortune?

38 Female.
Bit of a boring question but hopefully a quick answer for you :) would really appreciate your opinions.
Recent medical history: gallbladder-like attacks under investigation.
I’ve been having gallbladder like attacks for the last 1-2 years.These are increasing in frequency and severity particularly since January. Normal HIDA scan, normal CT, ultrasound only shows multiple polyps up to 9mm. No stones seen to date. Being reviewed for SOD. So basically, loads of attacks and no medical explanation for what’s causing the pain episodes.
I had a really severe attack on Sunday night. I can handle a fair amount of pain, but this was an easy 10/10 on the pain scale. I took myself to the after-hours doctors and asked them to run bloods. They gave me a form and I did the tests the following day (so, around 18 hours later I guess).
The liver enzymes have come back very mildly raised (my usual for many years has been between 10-16, my result this time was 50. The cut off of normal here is 43). My CRP is also extremely mildly elevated at about 8. More than my usual 0-1, but I know that’s still very low for CRP (I’ve had sepsis and seen massive numbers for CRP before).
Is it more likely the liver result is due to the attack I had the night prior? OR - At the time I was also on day 6 of a virus (sore throat and sinus), is it more likely due to that? I should add I get my bloods taken on a frequent basis and my liver is never elevated even when I’ve been sick in the past. I have little kids so I’m often struggling with a cold of some sort when having my bloods regularly done.
Anyway. I’d appreciate opinions. This has been ongoing for soo long, and it’s getting so bad and I just want some answers of what’s going on. I’d feel a lot better, and relieved, if the liver result was a clear indicator of a gallbladder issue so I have something more concrete to discuss with the doctors.
Thank you

Hello, I (26M) recently noticed a small, painless, immobile lump on the right side of my neck. During my company’s annual medical exam, the doctor suggested it might be my body fighting an infection, although I had no symptoms like a cough, sore throat, fever, or colds at the time. The doctor advised me to observe the lump for two weeks to see if it would go away. Two weeks later, my AME results came back normal (chest x-ray, blood test, and urine test), and I had also tested negative for HIV, Hepatitis, and Syphilis two days before my AME schedule. During my AME interpretation with a different doctor, I mentioned the lump again, and this time I was referred to a specialist since it hadn’t gone away.
I visited an ENT specialist right after that and during the consultation, the specialist asked if I smoked (I don’t, but I drink occasionally) and then he performed a nasal endoscopy. The procedure revealed a Nasopharyngeal mass at the back of my nose, and I was advised to get a CT scan, ultrasound, additional blood tests, and a biopsy. I haven’t done these procedures yet, but I’m anxious about the possibility of it being something serious. And I know googling is not best thing to do but I couldn’t help it and now it increased my anxiety, making me fear it could be the c word.
What are the chances that this mass is not serious? I’m really scared and experiencing intense anxiety right now. Sorry for the long post, but I wanted to provide as much detail as possible.
Thank you.

I joined this subreddit awhile back because I was trying to find more images of the implant scarring and didn't find as much as I'd hoped. I had my procedure done almost 2 weeks ago and the recovery was very rough for me (they don't plan on activating for over 1.5 months). I wanted to touch on some points in case people stumble across this post for recovery.

• I have had a severe headache, feels worse than a migraine, since the operation and was informed it could be ongoing for the next month. It's the whole right side of my head. (Prescribed gabapentin for this)
• I can't stick out my tongue, currently my tongue range of mobility has been reduced about 70% (I used to be able to touch my nose with my tongue haha)
• I read a lot of people being able to eat food normally. Not me. I was on a liquid diet for a week cause it was painful to swallow, more jaw nerve pain and felt like someone punched me in the throat.
• The reason why I put female specifically is because HOLY CRAP the chest incision area hurts so bad if you don't have good chest support. It is much more uncomfortable and painful than I thought it would be because I have a large chest size. I still cannot lay on either side (I'm a side sleeper) and the weight of even bending over slightly causes a lot of pain because of the gravity weight. I had to hold my chest whenever I got up because the pain would be too much without supporting the area.
• Also surprisingly, my implant is not visible at all. I actually had planned on uploading a collage of my recovery but imgur wouldn't upload it, I'm guessing because of the bloody scars? But anyways, very surprised that I can't see even a slight raised bump.
• DO YOUR NECK EXERCISES. Seriously. Even though it sucks, do it.
• Make sure you're washing your incision site gently with antibacterial soap (I usually use fragrance free Dial antibacterial soap). If your incision is still slightly fresh make sure you are patting it down with a new paper towel each time, do not use your bath towel. If you're prescribed antibiotics just coat the incision site and let it sit. You don't need to rub it in.

There's a lot more I can bring up but that's all I remember specifically that I wanted to bring up atm. Feel free to ask me anything and I'll do my best to answer! Hope it helps!

Hey everyone,
I'm reaching out to this community in hopes of shedding some light on a bizarre post-procedure experience I had. Yesterday, after undergoing a colonoscopy at around 11 AM, I woke up to find my face severely swollen, filled with mucus, and my sinuses inflamed. My eyes were hemorrhaging, and I was coughing non-stop, needing to blow my nose repeatedly. Even my mom hardly recognized me due to the swelling.wheb I asked the doctor who performed the procedure he said I should look in to sleep apnea and then quickly left and before I knew it I was being wheeled out to the car
Just last week, I had an endoscopy with propofol and didn't have any adverse reactions, which makes this all the more puzzling.
Within two hours of leaving the clinic, I developed a fever and a sore throat, reminiscent of flu symptoms or past COVID experiences. I rushed to urgent care around 3 PM, where they tested me for COVID, flu, and strep – all tests came back negative, and I was sent home.
After taking 800mg of ibuprofen, I dozed off, and by 10 PM, the fever and sore throat had mostly subsided, but my face remained red with petechiae. Fast forward to today, both my eyes are hemorrhaged, and my skin looks like I've got a sunburn.
Has anyone ever experienced anything like this after a colonoscopy with propofol? If it was an allergic reaction, why was there no reaction during the endoscopy the week before? Could it be due to a different dosage? I stumbled upon some articles discussing an acute febrile reaction to propofol, but I'm still trying to piece everything together. As crazy as it sounds I believe I some how quit breathing
Any insights or similar experiences would be greatly appreciated. I did ask ChatGPT lol and it said these symptoms could be caused if I stopped breathing

My 36M Bf and I had been having arguments often and at each others throats about things that could’ve been handled better by both parties. He works extreme hours in corporate which is resulting in burn out. He’s put in a tonne of effort and eventually caved by stating he’s uncertain about us long term, so I gave him space for a few weeks. I grew quite unhappy living with the uncertainty of our future and decided I was going to end it. I saw him last night to tell him this and he started crying, and said he will be more emotionally available and he doesn’t want to lose me. It seemed genuine but why would he say he’s uncertain about our future but fought for me not to end it?

*for possible context, i have a branchial cleft cyst on the left side (slowly growing) with a heterogenous thyroid but have yet to see an ENT (in the process of recieving a referral, though). perhaps that has something to do with what's been happening,.*
as the title says, i've (19F, 220Ibs) had something akin to a cold for over two weeks. the first week of infection, i went to the doctors that monday to get tested for the flu (since i had been exposed a few days prior). test came back negative, but that tuesday i began feeling incredibly sick. i was basically bedridden, so i assumed i had a false negative/got tested too early. however, after my exam on wednesday, my condition worsened, thus kickstarting the odd neurological symptoms. the best way i can explain it is i forgot how to speak/type (roommate had witnessed this, paramedics witnessed some of it), my left arm/spine felt weirdly numb, and i had a tickle/heaviness in my chest. *to add, i wasn't really dehydrated, so i wouldn't attribute what happened to that.* i went to the hospital, had my blood taken, and got given haldol and benadryl simultaneously via IV (i had a bad reaction, became extremely paranoid/fearful. hospital staff did not care), and then got told everything was due to low magnesium/anxiety (i don't doubt it, just giving more details about my prognosis).
the following week, while my "cold" symptoms seemed to improve, AKA my throat wasn't as sore (forgot to add that the left side of my throat was/is swollen) and my ears didn't hurt as bad, my fatigue/lightheadedness/almost-fainting-thing worsened, so i went to an urgent care to get tested for COVID, the flu (again), and strep. everything came back negative, and after i told the urgent care provider what i was experiencing, they highly recommended i go back to the hospital. so i did. they gave me an EKG and another blood test, both coming back mostly normal. some of my levels fluctuated (not totally concerned since fluctuations are normal), but was then discharged and diagnosed with lightheadedness (my discharge papers say that's my diagnosis). i wasn't given any prescriptions or instructions on how to proceed with said diagnosis.
now, a week later, i still feel very week and lightheaded. i've always had feelings of fainting/tunnel vision/everything associated with losing consciousness, but it's been progessively bad. i feel like i have no stamina, and even felt exhausted from walking to the grocery store entrance from my car today. i also still have a lot of drainage/leaky sinuses (which isn't usually normal for me, even with allergies), and the left side of my throat is still swollen/tender on the outside (which could be from the cyst).
i'm unsure where to go from here. i made an appointment with my PCP the first time i went to the hospital this month, and the earliest appointment is the 27th. if nothing comes out of that, i won't know what to do. regardless, i just wanted to hear other's opinions/advice/etc.

I apologize if my grammar and punctuation is non existent I’m too in shock to care
So today I found my dad hunched over on his knees near his bed clutching his chest cold and dead today I’m assuming he had a heart attack cause that’s what it looked like from how he was positioned back on Wednesday night he wasn’t feeling too hot he was throwing up and I thought he was just sick but the next morning he collapsed and me and my grandma called an ambulance for him but he refused to go since he’s hard headed but anyway we believe he essentially went into cardiac arrest cause he has high blood pressure and his diet is awful and he drinks like a fish but moving on he basically had all the telltale signs of cardiac arrest such as being super sore and he could barely see anything along with chest pains but last night i was taking care of him and he was complaining again about his chest and I begged him to let me take him to the hospital and he denied again that’s the last time I saw him alive I was then woken up by my grandma at 2 in the afternoon coming home saying she hadn’t seen him all day so I went to check on him fearing the worst and found him dead next to his bed he’d been dead a few hours by then he was cold and his face was blue and the worst bit is he died in pain he didn’t even get to go in his sleep which kills me I tried to give him CPR just hoping it might somehow work but Rigor Mortis had already set in so I knew he was dead I wasn’t the closest with my dad but he was the only parent I had left and now he’s gone I’m super angry at him for denying us getting him healthcare and leaving me and my siblings alone like this my grandma only has so much time left on this earth and now my little siblings are not gonna have a father figure in their lives anymore I just don’t know what to do or how to even begin to try to get over his death any help would be appreciated sorry for typing so much I just tend to ramble.

Every time I experience really good euphoric moods, whether it’s natural or THC/Nicotine induced, it always takes a rapid turn for the worst with panic attack like symptoms; burning chest/upper body, intense feeling that reality has changed into something hellish, extremely negative self image, and maybe depersonalisation-derealisation.
It is sometimes hours after having vaped or not at all, but it’s making me feel on edge constantly and like I can’t have moments of happiness and joy without my brain turning it into hell.
Vaping is stopping as of this week, but how do I deal with this issue when I haven’t been vaping?
I’ve been taking quetiapine PRN but while it does make me sleepy, it’s hard to get to sleep during hours long panic attacks.
I’ve called a crisis chatline but the lady told me to just watch TV until I calm down??
Don’t see my psych until mid June.
The only thing that seems to get me through it is listening to the podcasts on the headspace app - but even then it’s a waiting game.
Edit: I haven’t felt real anxiety in years until I started vaping and now it’s like everything I’ve had control over is being dumped on me all at once.

I have been sick probably catch a cold or flu for a week, and have been much better since the last two days. And today is my biologics day, so I inject my once/month Taltz, after that I feel my cold/flu symptoms is back and worse again. I feel chest pains and sore throat and headache and huge panic. I am worry will this be serious consequences? I have never get sick and inject biologics in the same week. Now I am very regret I have done that, what should I do? Will this get much worse bc my immunity system is suppressed? Thank you for the advice🤣🤣

“Ready to make history, baby?”
I looked over toward Sheila as she stood on the gangplank leading up to The Burger. I still couldn’t believe she named our research ship ‘The Burger’... emotional relevance be damned.
“It's not exactly history,” I corrected.
“Oh come on! If your survey is right, this trench might run even deeper than the Challenger Deep, and you’re gonna be the first person to explore it! How is that not exciting?”
“Might be deeper, we only have a limited amount of topological data. And even if it is deeper, we’re talking only a few hundred feet at most, it’s really not that im-”
Sheila silenced me with a kiss.
“Nerd.” She teased, and I found myself too flustered to reply. After five years of marriage, she still could leave me speechless with just a kiss. God… how did someone like me end up with a woman like that?
Then again, how did someone like me end up where I was in general? It was honestly a little overwhelming. Standing on the dock, getting ready to board that ship and join the ranks of Jacques Piccard and James Cameron (yes, that James Cameron) as one of the few people to take a manned submersible down to the deepest parts of the ocean. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little scared too. Diving down that deep could easily be a one way trip if even the slightest thing went wrong. My submarine would be experiencing between 600 to 1100 atmospheres of pressure and while we’d tested it over and over again to make sure it would actually be up for the challenge, there was still a lingering iota of doubt in the back of my mind. All that needed to go wrong was one little thing, and that would be it for me.
The scariest part is that I probably wouldn’t even know what had happened… I’d simply be gone… and Sheila would be alone. The thought of that caused a momentary spike of panic in my chest that almost made me want to call this whole thing off.
Almost.
But, then I felt her hand close around mine. I looked up into her bright blue eyes, and saw her gentle smile.
“You’re gonna be okay, hun,” She promised. “You and your team have been running the numbers, right? It’s gonna go just fine!”
I nodded slowly.
“It’s gonna go fine…” I repeated, before she leaned in to kiss me, and gently pulled me by the wrist up onto the deck of the Burger.
She was probably right.
It probably would be fine.
Probably…
The trench I’d be exploring was a fairly recent discovery, located south of Greenland, in a vast stretch of water situated directly between Newfoundland and Iceland. It’d been uncovered during a topological survey in the area, and my team had taken an interest in investigating it further. At minimum, it was believed to descend to about 35,000 feet deep (over 10,000 meters), although the current theory was that it might have run even deeper. Determining the exact depth of the yet unnamed chasm was just one of the intents of our dive. The rest was studying the organisms that might be found down there, and how they might have differed from the ones found in other deep ocean trenches (some variation being expected given the isolated environment they were developing in.)
I had to admit, it would be exciting to see what new life might have developed in a place such as this, especially if it ran even deeper than our predictions… and that excitement was enough to make me chase the fear of the risks out of my mind, even if it was only briefly. While Sheila went to make sure we were ready to embark, I caught myself wandering out toward the rear of the ship where my submarine, The Tempura, waited for me. Did this submarine deserve a better name than The Tempura? Probably. But, this was my project, so I got to name it and since Burger was already taken, Tempura was the next best name I had. I liked to think that the subs namesake might approve… if she hadn’t died fifteen years ago. Shrimp don’t live very long.
As the ship began to depart, I caught myself reminiscing on how I’d ended up here… it really was all because of those damn shrimp, wasn’t it? Well… maybe not all because of the shrimp. But they were certainly part of it. Back when I was a lot younger, I never really gave much of a shit about anything at all. I guess I did have a thing for the ocean… the great, romantic vastness of it. The sense of adventure that it beckoned with. The endless mysteries that lay within its dark depths. I used to read about it all the time when I was a kid and I especially loved the classic adventures: Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, and Melville’s Moby Dick… but that love was just confined to my books. I didn’t really have any interest in actually going out and seeing the ocean. Hell, the idea of going to a beach and standing in the sun with my toes in the sand seemed miserable to me. I was happier (although calling myself happy might’ve been a little disingenuous) alone in my room, enjoying the company of books as opposed to people.
Then came the shrimp.
One of my online friends kept them as a hobby. He used to post pictures of his tanks all the time, and I always thought they looked kinda cool. He said that if I was interested in them, I should try keeping some for myself, and during a particularly bad bout of depression, I figured that maybe it might be worth a shot. So, I bought a cheap tank and some cheap decorations, bought myself some shrimp… and promptly watched them die over the next few weeks. That… that bothered me. I don’t know why but… it really bothered me. I’m still not entirely sure how to describe what it was that I was feeling. Guilt? Defeat? Shame? Here I was, trying to set up a habitat for these creatures just to have something to do to keep the suicidal ideation at bay, and I’d failed almost right out of the gate.
Was I just that bad? Was I just that much of a failure? Was this just going to go to shit just like everything else in my life did, because I was just such an abysmal piece of shit who barely deserved the life she had? Had I just not tried hard enough? Was I too apathetic? What had happened? What went wrong?
It bothered me.
It bothered me enough that I made up my mind to just dump the remaining shrimp down the toilet and toss everything. Forget about it. Move on. End of story. But… that wasn’t fair, was it? The shrimp didn’t all deserve to die just because I couldn’t be bothered, did they? Sure, they were just shrimp, but they were alive too, just like me. They deserved to be alive.
I owed it to them to try and keep them alive, didn’t I?
So… I didn’t dump the shrimp.
Instead, I started doing some reading. Started looking into what I was doing wrong and how to do it all better. I actually got really into it and a few months later, I had a nice planted tank. Looking back, it was amateur shit… but it made me happy. I’d even picked out names for my two favorite shrimp. Burger and Tempura. They’d been the last survivors of my original batch, and they were the ones I ended up caring about the most. Caring for Burger and Tempura gave me a purpose. It became an obsession… and that little obsession drove me to finally start turning my life around.
Like I said, shrimp don’t live for very long. Burger and Tempura were long dead by the time I graduated with a degree in Marine Biology. But they were the ones who inspired me to finally get my life in order. Hell, the shrimp were half the reason that I met Sheila. She was something of an aquarium fanatic too… we’d met on a forum, and gotten to talking. I found out that she just so happened to be studying Marine Biology at another school, and we bonded pretty quickly after that. After graduation, I moved to California to be with her and after that, the rest is history. She was my rock. She was the one who always pushed me to be the best possible version of myself… and I loved her more than I ever knew I could love someone.
A glance back at the shore, fading into the distance tore me out of my reminiscing, and I shifted my focus to the present, going over The Tempura to perform some quick checks. My colleagues and I would be checking and rechecking the submarine over the next two days as we made our way toward the dive spot. Considering the danger that descending that deep posed, I didn’t want to take a single unnecessary risk.
I had too much to live for, after all.
***
The day of the dive, I couldn’t notice how excited the rest of the crew seemed… well… Sheila’s usual crew seemed excited. I guess to them, this was just another research expedition, no different than the ones Sheila usually took this ship out on. Lately her research had been focused on the analysis and study of whale calls. Her recent voyages had involved following their pods, recording their calls and playing them back to see how the whales reacted. It was fascinating stuff, but my research was admittedly a lot different than that.
My obsession had drawn me to the denizens of the deep sea. I’d used The Burger for expeditions before, although none of them had been on quite the same scale as this one. Up until today, the most ambitious thing I’d done was send down unmanned submersibles with cameras. Those submersibles had typically returned. We had lost a few early on due to technical glitches, but the past few years had been blissfully uneventful. Logically, this dive would probably be uneventful as well. But it was still hard to get the jitters out of my head.
My team and I did the final checks necessary to make sure that The Tempura was good to go, before setting up the crane to begin lifting it up. In less than an hour, I’d be inside of that thing, descending to the darkest depths of the ocean.
It didn’t feel real.
I felt Sheila’s hand on my shoulder, and looked over at her.
“Moment of truth, huh?” She asked. She probably meant it to sound encouraging, but it just sounded ominous.
“Moment of truth…” I replied.
“You’re gonna be okay, honey. I know you will.”
She reached out to gently squeeze my hand and gave me a reassuring smile that I meekly returned.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be okay,” I agreed, although there was an element of a lie in it. Statistically, yes. It probably WOULD be okay. But there was that lingering anxiety in the back of my mind that just wouldn’t go away. I looked quietly out at the submarine before me and couldn’t shake the thought that it sort of looked like a giant coffin. Unconsciously, I found myself squeezing Sheila’s hand tighter than normal. She just held me close and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, before gently rubbing my back.
“You’ll be okay,” She promised.
“Dr. Jenner, we’re ready for you.” I heard one of my colleagues say.
Moment of truth.
I took one last look at Sheila, and gave her a quick kiss on the lips for luck. She smiled at me, and I smiled back anxiously at her before heading over toward the submarine.
The crew helped me enter the cockpit and get myself situated inside. The cockpit of the Tempura was fairly cramped and not particularly comfortable. Space and comfort aren’t really luxuries you can afford in a submarine like this. The instruments I needed took up a lot of space, leaving little room for me in there… and I am not a very big person.
Once I was inside, they sealed the hatch. Then the diagnostics checks began.
“Grayson, can you hear us in there?” I heard Sheila say through the radio.
“Loud and clear,” I replied.
“Great. We’ll keep in constant radio contact, just to monitor the signal. In the meanwhile, how’s everything looking in there?”
“Green across the board so far,” I said, although I hadn’t finished running all my final checks yet. Ultimately, nothing was out of place.
This submarine was as good to go as it was going to get.
“I’m all good in here,” I said once I was done. “You can drop me when you’re ready.”
“You got it, honey. Let’s get you in the water, run one final round of tests and start lowering you down.”
A short while later, I felt the submarine begin to move as the crane lifted it off the deck and lowered it into the water. The Tempura honestly resembled its namesake in a way, being long and cigar shaped, only vertically oriented instead of horizontally oriented. We’d admittedly taken more than a few design cues from James Cameron’s Deepsea Challenger. Why fix what isn’t broken, after all?
Once I was in the water, a 1000 pound releasable ballast weight would cause the submarine to sink. Releasing that weight was also my ticket back to the surface, and I could either trigger it from inside the cockpit, or, in the event that the release failed for any reason, it would trigger automatically after roughly 12 hours of exposure to salt water.
Ideally, this would be the first of a number of dives I’d be undertaking… and if all went according to plan, the Tempura could be the first of many similar submarines that would allow other researchers to safely and effectively descend to extreme depths. If all went well, this could be a massive leap forward for researchers like me, allowing us to better explore the deepest depths of the Hadal Zone and learn all we could about the ecosystems down there via direct observation.
If all went well.
If.
Through the viewport, I watched as I was lowered into the ocean. A few of the other crew members had donned diving gear to escort me down, and after they did their final checks and I did mine, we were fully ready to go.
“All’s green across the board,” I said into the radio. “You can start my descent.”
“I hear you, honey,” Sheila replied. “We’re letting you go. Have fun down there.”
“Yeah, I’ll try…” I said quietly as finally, my submarine began its descent.
I took a deep breath, and told myself again that everything would go fine. We had checked everything on this submarine. We’d tested it rigorously. I wouldn’t have allowed myself to set foot inside of it if I hadn’t personally assured that it was safe. But anxiety never really goes away, does it? The crew couldn’t accompany me far. After only a few meters, they fell behind me as I sank deeper and deeper into the infinite, empty blue of the ocean. Soon after, the tether was released.
I was officially on my own.
“60 feet,” I heard Sheila say over the radio. “How are you doing in there?”
“Good,” I replied. “Doing… doing good.”
The submarine continued to descend. Through the viewport, I could see a few stray fish, but nothing particularly eye catching. I almost felt alone down there… almost…
“120 feet…” Sheila said.
“Still doing good,” I replied.
The descent continued, as the waters slowly grew darker and darker.
“400 feet…”
Everything around me just kept getting darker and darker. Only a fraction of the light from the sun ever reached these depths… and I’d be lying if I said that darkness didn’t feel a little… oppressive.
“800 feet… still feeling good?”
“Yeah, still feeling good…” I said, although it was a bit of a lie. If anything, I was second guessing all of this, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud.
“1000 feet… still good?”
“Still good…” I murmured. “I hear you loud and clear.”
Deeper… deeper… deeper.
“1500 feet…”
Three miles. I was three miles away from home. Three miles away from Sheila.
“2000 feet…”
Still a ways to go.
“3000 feet…”
By this point, it was fully dark outside of my cockpit. Outside, all I could see was inky darkness. Even the submarine’s lights didn’t really cut through it. And the kicker? Relatively speaking, I wasn’t that deep. Fishing trawlers reached deeper than this. Better to conserve power until I was at the bottom. My descent continued.
“6000 feet… still good?”
“Still good…”
The check ins were becoming less frequent. My descent still continued… deeper… deeper… deeper. By now, I’d entered the Hadal Zone. But there was still so much deeper o go.
“8000 feet…”
This was past the depths that most whales would dive to… and I still had a ways to go.
“10,000 feet.”
This was close to where the ocean floor usually bottomed out… and yet there was still so much further to go. No. I was really only a third of the way there. How long had it been?Not much had happened beyond my descent and a few sightings out of my viewport, but time had been passing. A glance at my watch confirmed it’d been almost an hour since I’d started to sink… and I knew I wasn’t even close to the bottom yet. The submarine continued to descend, sinking ever deeper as I dropped into an infinite darkness that few had ever dared to witness.
“15,000 feet.”
This check in came later than the others. At this point, Sheila and the crew must have figured that no news was good news, and they were right. I just continued to sink peacefully, down into the crushing depths of the ocean.
These were the depths that one might normally find deep sea fish… and yet I was going somewhere even deeper than that.
“20,000 feet…”
So close…
I continued to sink.
“25,000 feet.”
Soon… and finally…
“30,000 feet. You still doing alright, honey?”
“Yeah… yeah, I’m doing good,” I assured her. I was so close…
By this point, my real work had begun. I’d engaged the lights and begun documenting what little I could see using the on board cameras. Granted, there wasn’t much life at these depths and what little there was, was scarcely documented. Most of what was down here consisted of invertebrates and microscopic life that seemed to float past my viewport.
The light seemed to draw a few creatures in search of food. Small, hardy things that resembled shrimp.
“How’s it looking, Grayson?”
“Dark,” I said, half joking. “We’ve got some life… shrimp. They’re translucent. Can’t get a great look at them… but we’ll see what the cameras pick up.”
“They’ve recognized you as a friend,” Sheila said. I could almost see the smile on her lips as she said it.
“Yeah…” I replied, “Tempura sent them a message, told them I’d be down. How am I looking on depth?”
“35,000 feet… you seeing a bottom yet?”
“No… not that I would until I was there.”
“Damn… how deep does this go?”
“It can’t go that deep…” I murmured, although I really wasn’t so sure about that.
The submarine continued to sink…
36,000 feet…
37,000 feet…
38,000 feet… and then finally, just past the 39,000 foot mark, I finally saw solid ground below me.
Looking through my viewport, I could see a familiar dark brown diatomaceous sludge, covering the seafloor. Microscopic life, likely similar to what had been observed in other deep sea trenches, such as the Challenger Deep.
I needed to gather a sample.
As my submarine reached the bottom, I extended the mechanical arms, pressed flat against the surface of the Tempura, and opened the collection port near the bottom of the ship. Slowly, I sifted some of the sludge into the port. My disturbance of the seafloor kicked up a cloud of the microbial colony, and I could’ve sworn I saw something wiggling through the debris. A pale, white thing, perhaps some sort of sea cucumber? I hastily angled my submarines camera to try and catch a glimpse of it, before returning to my collection. Even in this forlorn place, there was still so much to see! And here I was… completely forgetting my fear as the excitement took hold of me! Few people had ever been down to these unfathomable depths… and yet here I was.
It didn’t feel real but it was! I had reached the deepest part of the ocean!
“How’s it going down there?” I heard Sheila ask. Her voice was a little garbled. The connection down here was faltering.
“It’s beautiful…” I said. “I can’t wait for you to see it!”
“I’ll bet…”
“I’m going to do a sweep of the area, see what samples I can gather,” I said. “What’s my time right now?”
“Three hours. You’ve got nine before your connection to the weight deteriorates and you start to ascend.”
“I’ll make the most of it,” I said. The plan was only to stay down there for six hours, and I didn’t want to push that limit. Life support would only last me for so long, and one little error was all it would take for the ungodly pressure down here to crush me.
I began to move the submarine. Mobility was limited. This thing wasn’t built to travel far. But I still had some limited movement. I recorded all that I could, filming the shrimp that investigated my light, and the things that slithered and crawled through the muck, likely feeding on the carpet of single celled organisms that populated these depths.
The first two hours were… well… I hesitate to call them uneventful, they were actually very fascinating, but little of note happened beyond my recording of a few specimens.
Midway through the third hour though, as I was reaching one of the rock walls of the abyss, I noticed something just above the edge of my viewport swimming away from the light. I could’ve sworn I saw slender, pale tentacles of some sort. Was that a squid? Were there squid down this deep? I wasn’t aware of any species of known squid who could reach these depths… but in this unknown place, what use was the known?
I moved my light and my camera to try and catch another glimpse of it, but whatever it was, it seemed to be gone. Maybe I’d see another one. I still had plenty of time.
“You made a noise. What’d you see?” Sheila asked.
“Something big… I think,” I said.
“Down there? Like a fish?”
“Squid. You wouldn’t find any vertebrates down this deep… the pressure would crush their bones.”
“Jeez…”
I didn’t reply to that, still searching for the thing I’d seen. I shone my light up along the walls of the chasm and angled my camera up as far as it would go. I could see a few volcanic vents, spewing dark clouds into the darkness, and more diatoms. But not much else. Strange invertebrates crawled along the walls. Small creatures, no bigger than an inch long. Related to isopods, perhaps? If I could collect one as a sample, I would have… although taking any of those back to the surface would surely kill them. They were built to live under the impossible pressure of these depths. Taking them to the surface would rip them apart.
I went back to my research, and it wasn’t long until I saw something in the darkness, just on the edge of where my flashlight reached. Trailing white tendrils, snaking their way through the darkness. My eyes narrowed as I moved the submarine forward, trying to catch whatever it was in the light. I saw the shape move, its body turning… I saw its tendrils unfurling. Whatever this was, it was big. It was almost as big as The Tempura… although it was also slender. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought I was looking at some sort of floating debris, but this far down? No. And debris wouldn’t move like that.
This had to be a deepsea squid… or perhaps some other type of cephalopod? Something that preyed upon the various invertebrates down here, perhaps? It seemed to float, just out of sight for a bit, as I tried to get closer. I angled up my light to get a better look at it. The light seemed to shine through it, like some sort of ghost… but I did manage to get a look at it.
Although that look…
That single look made me freeze up.
This things slender tendrils certainly resembled a cephalopod of some sort, but the rest of it… the rest of it looked like something else entirely. Its body was thin, emaciated and translucent, yet despite that it still had characteristics that almost seemed… human. It wasn’t human! Not by any stretch of imagination, but the resemblance was there. It almost reminded me of an exhibit I’d seen in a museum once, depicting a preserved, fully removed human nervous system. I could see a similar shape in its translucent body. Its head seemed almost human as well… albeit with no eyes, and a lamprey like mouth I could only describe as fleshy yet crablike.
Still, despite having no eyes I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was looking at me. And that was when I felt something hit the submarine.
I felt a sudden jolt of panic in my chest. For a moment, I thought that the pressure had started to crush me, but no… no, everything was still fine. Something had just hit me. But what? It didn’t take long before I got my answer.
Another pale creature floated past my viewport, swirling gracefully in the cold dark waters. I watched it for a moment with wide eyes, before noticing its ‘head’ turning slightly toward me. Then, almost instantly, it launched itself at the submarine, darting toward me with blinding speed.
I heard a distinct THUD as its body collided with me, and I could see its pale tendrils pressing against the viewport, twisting and writhing violently. It was trying to attack me. The first creature that I’d seen lunged as well, pounding on my submarine with another THUD. And moments later, I could hear more impacts against the hull. There were more of them… and they did not like having me down there.
“What’s going on?” Sheila asked.
“Somebody doesn’t like me…” I said. “One of the animals down here… some kind of squid, it’s just started attacking the hull.”
“How bad is the damage?”
“Not sure… could be nothing, could be-”
I felt the submarine shake as I tried to move it. The thrusters that pushed me forward weren't responding. Had something gotten caught in it? One of the creatures perhaps?
“Grayson?!” Sheila asked.
“Lost propulsion…” I said. “Fuck… I can’t move.”
“Then drop the weight and come up!”
“No, it’s fine, there’s no other damage, I can still use the port and starboard thrusters to-”
“Grayson!”
I paused. There was genuine panic in her voice… enough to make me realize that even if these things stood little chance of actually breaching the hull, taking the risk would be a fatal mistake.
“I’m on my way up…” I finally said, before reaching out to disengage the ballast weights.
Immediately, I felt myself beginning to rise, although the tentacles clinging to my viewport didn’t disappear.
“We’ve got you…” Sheila said. “Rising up to 38,000 feet.”
The submarine continued to rise, but the creatures clinging to me went nowhere. In fact… I was sure I could see more of them. More pale shapes coming up through the darkness, and these ones filled me with dread. I thought I had been looking at some sort of eerie undiscovered life. But seeing what was coming up toward me now… I knew that I was looking at so much more. The creatures swimming up toward me through the darkness carried weapons… makeshift stone spears and daggers. Primitive tools… but tools all the same.
Signs that these were more than just undiscovered animals.
Much. Much more.
The word: ‘Mermaids’ crossed through my mind, but these were something far different than the ones I’d heard of in folklore. These looked like they’d swam out of the depths of hell itself. Boneless pale tendrils reached for me… and they were getting closer. The pale shapes reached my submarine as I rose higher. I kept praying to whatever God may be listening that the dropping pressure would force them off. The air in a submarine is pressurized, so during normal operation, there should have been no danger of decompression sickness for me.
For them… well… normally I’d feel a little guilty about subjecting an undiscovered species of deep sea mermaids to the horrors of the Bends. But given my circumstances, I didn’t have a lot of other options.
They didn’t let go, though.
They should have. But they didn’t.
What were these things?
I saw a splayed hand press against my viewport. Or… it somewhat resembled a hand. It had suckers on it, like a tentacle and the ‘fingers’ curled open like tentacles. The creature crawled over my viewport, clinging to The Tempura as it rose, and I could see the folds of its crablike mouth opening and pressing against the glass. I could see some sort of bile rising up through its translucent throat, before it secreted it all over my viewport. Was it trying to digest me? Was that how these things fed? How strong were its stomach acids? Were they strong enough to-
The window cracked.
My heart skipped a beat.
“No… no, no no…”
“Grayson, what’s wrong?!”
“They cracked the window… S-Sheila they… oh God… oh fuck, they just…”
“THEY DID WHAT?”
“It’s secreting some sort of enzyme… it’s on the window, it’s… FUCK… I’m gonna die… I’m gonna die… I’m gonna die…”
“You’re not gonna die, baby! Just… just keep ascending, okay? You’re at 30,000 feet… just keep going…”
I nodded, and kept on rising, although the question of whether or not the rest of the creatures were trying to digest the other parts of my submarine floated through my mind. How much damage could The Tempura take before it imploded? How much longer did I have? The submarine still continued to rise… 25,000 feet… almost halfway home… almost… almost.
The creature outside of my viewport slithered along the glass, searching for a better area to try and digest. Past him, I noticed a few of his companions dropping off. Maybe the change in pressure finally was getting to them?
From the corner of my eye, I suddenly noticed a flashing light. A warning. The hydraulics on one of the Tempura’s arms were shot… what else was damaged?
I checked my oxygen levels. 32%.
I should’ve had at least 14 hours of air. I’d only been down there for about 6 hours… I shouldn’t have been this low.
31%.
No… no, no, no, no… they’d damaged the air tanks!
30%.
29%
“20,000 feet!” Sheila said. “You still with me, baby?”
“Y-yeah…” I said. I didn’t mention my air situation. I didn’t need to worry her further.
The submarine continued its ascent.
15,000 feet.
24%. I was running out of time.
The creatures still clung to the Tempura. How had the pressure change not killed them yet? My oxygen was dropping faster than before. I was hemorrhaging air. Another crack formed across my viewport. I let out a little, involuntary gasp before trying to force myself to stop hyperventilating.
“Grayson, what was that?”
“I-it’s fine…” I stammered, “It’s fine!”
“Grayson what the hell is going on down there?!”
“They’re still on the submarine… they’re still…” I paused, looking at my oxygen levels. “19%...”
“19% of what? Grayson what’s going on!”
I paused.
18%.
“Air… I’m… I’m losing air…”
“That’s fine, you’re going to make it!” She said, although I heard her voice cracking a little. “You’re gonna make it!”
I didn’t answer.
12,000 feet.
11,000 feet…
My oxygen level continued to drop.
15%.
14%.
12%.
9,000 feet.
The creatures still clung to me, as the submarine continued to rise. The one on my viewport was still there, slowly crawling along the glass again. I stared into its eyeless face and swore I was looking at the face of my killer.
7,000 feet…
Oxygen had dropped to 9%. It dropped to 8% before I even got to 6,000 feet. I was going to die here…
The viewport cracked again and I squeezed my eyes shut. The submarine rocked. I was sure one of the thrusters had been damaged. My ascent slowed.
“Grayson, what’s going on?”
“I’m sorry Sheila…”
Another crack spread across my viewport.
“I’m… I’m not making it back up…”
“YES YOU ARE!”
“I’m sorry…” The tears started to come as the reality of my death became clearer and clearer… this was it.
“YOU’RE COMING BACK UP, YOU HEAR ME! GODDAMNIT, I’LL BRING YOU BACK UP!”
“I love you…”
That creatures face pressed against the glass. It vomited more of its stomach acid onto the cracked glass, and I wondered if this might finally be what broke it. Part of me hoped it would be… the one good thing about dying this deep was that at least I’d die quickly. My suffering would be over. Then, the creature suddenly pulled back, twisting and writhing violently. I saw other shapes moving past it in the water, other ‘mermaids’ that had been clinging to the submarine.
Something was agitating them.
Something was scaring them off.
Then I heard it, over the radio… whale songs.
“What the hell…?”
“Grayson, are you still there?!”
“I… they’re finally breaking off. Sheila, what did you do?”
“I’m broadcasting some of the orca recordings we’ve been using. Are they still clinging to you?”
“No! They’re backing off! I… whatever you’re doing, keep doing it!”
The submarine kept rising.
5,000 feet.
4,000 feet.
4% oxygen.
I could still do this, right?
The submarine continued to rise.
3%.
3,000 feet.
2,000 feet.
2%.
1,000 feet… so close… I was so close…
I could almost see the surface through my viewport, rushing up toward me. I tried not to breathe. Tried not to move. All I did was hope.
500 feet.
I closed my eyes.
“Grayson we have your signal, we’re coming to pick you up!”
Sheila’s voice sounded so far away as my submarine finally breached the surface of the water… and with the last of my strength, I pulled the emergency release on the hatch, and threw it open, taking in lungful after lungful of fresh salty air.
I didn’t dare so much as touch the water beneath me… but I was topside again, and in the distance, I could see The Burger!
“We see you!” Sheila said, “We’ve got you baby… we’ve got you…”
“I see you too…” I said through the tears. “Thank you… thank you…” I didn’t have any words left in me after that.
As soon as I was back on the ship, I collapsed into Sheila’s arms, breaking down into tears as I clung to her, terrified that at any moment, some sort of unspoken other shoe would drop and I’d lose her all over again.
“Shh… it’s alright baby… I’ve got you… you’re safe… you’re safe…” I felt her fingers running through my air and I knew that what she said was true.
I was home.
I was safe.
***
I left my colleagues to review the data that the Tempura gathered during its short expedition. As far as I know, they haven’t published anything. I have a few ideas as to why, but I’ll keep those to myself. Let’s just say that some people would rather this information not become public.
I have a feeling that the Tempura may not be diving again for some time, if ever. I will confess that I do consider that a bit of a shame. Despite everything… I would consider it a success. It endured far more stressful conditions than I had expected, and from what I heard, required fewer repairs than I’d thought it would. But, even if it was approved for another dive, it wouldn’t be me piloting it. No. I will never be setting foot inside of that machine again, nor will I ever be returning to what my colleagues have been quietly referring to as ‘The Jenner Trench’.
I can’t.
Every night, I wake up crying after dreaming of pale shapes outside of my cracked viewport, clinging to Sheila and sobbing. I can’t put myself in that situation again.
I can’t.
Instead, I think I’m going to spend the next few years on solid ground. There’s a teaching position available at a local university. I think that might be the best place for me right now. Who knows, maybe I can help some other deadbeat discover a passion for marine biology.
After everything, my love for the sea remains unchanged… I’m just a little more wary of it, these days.

Let me give some quick background.
So I've been seriously lifting for about two years and I've made a lot of progress. 5'7, went from around 115 to 160 lbs at the beginning of the day. I'm on my second bulk so far, but, despite eating all my macros and a calorie surplus, I've been seeing declining performance for weeks now. I don't feel much stronger than when I started bulking, and I've had to cut my 75-90 minute workouts (6 days a week) short quite often in recent times before my muscles will tire, forcing me to quit before I'm satisfied with the work I've done.
I decided to take a week off last week, but coming into this week, not only have I been able to do even less work and have had to cut the workouts even shorter, but both today's and yesterday's workouts have caused aches and pains in my chest and shoulder respectively (Monday is chest and tricepts, Tuesday is biceps and back). My pecs are super sensitive to any movement and feel sore, and my shoulder feels like it's having growing pains (aching pain).
What's the cause of this pain, and more broadly the workout problems I've been having? Overtraining? Plateauing? What's the solution.

Maximum voluntarily isometric contraction is method that uses max effort at specific angles trough range of motion. It can be done pushing or pulling against barbell, ballistic manire ( rapid force development and good for RFD ), ramp up manire ( gradualy increasing force to peak than sustaine ). There is no visible move but muscle fibers are shortening and elongate same as tendions and with MVIC contracting (that is why MVIC have good transfer to dynamic concentric strength. Old researches, many people and some choaches say that transfer is around 15° in both ways from point where is done and that is partially true at short muscle lengths. Researches show that when done at long muscle lengths where muscle is stretched (begining of lift) have grater transfer on range of motion ( more degreese ) how much depends of way have and where it's done, elict more hypertrophy and maximal strength but causes more fatigue. On short lengths have smaller transfer trough range of motion and because of that is more angle specific elict less hypertrophy and maximal strength but cause less fatigue. Some say to do isometric at long lengths only, some say no more than three positions and some on sticking point or regions ( it's vary strong tool for this because of great strength gains). Researche done by Danny Lum and others shows that doing one angel (90°) and multiple angle (90°+2 angles) elict same gains in maximal strength but multiple angle groupe was better at ballistic exercise producing more power. With MVIC activation of muscles motor units is 5% to 10% higher than with concentric and eccenrtic contraction and have many times longer duration of max muscle activation ( used like potentiation effect before power sets ). While you go by certain angle in range of motion in miliseconds with dynamic move with MVIC aim it for few seconds ( because of that it's been used on sicking points to improve weak areas ). Many people don't belive in them because of lack informations and they do them wrong (application) but people like Alex Natera (sport specific running) use them for year like stand alone method for prepearing athletes.
I try it like stand alon method at one period of my training to see by my self how does it works.
For BP start at chest level 0cm first position next positions goes up 5cm each to lock out what is in my case 45 cm of ROM, so 10 positions from long to short muscle lengths. Next training start at 2,5 cm of chest than increase by 5 cm ( 2,5/7,5/12,5...) so in two trainings all ROM was done by 2,5 cm between angles. Effort was max 2x5/6 sec. with 2 min. of rest between reps and 5 min.between each position, that is 100 sec. of max effort all together spend in 100% to 80% range ( measure it with Tindequ Progressor for static force). I have see some hypertrophy and good strength and power gains. Some say that is too much angles that is too fatigued for CNS (didn't burn out doing one exercise daily because of longer durations). Of corse it can be used as only method and will give strength but won't last forever.
What are your thoughts and do you ever use it in your training sessions?
Have some more information how thing operate on cell level and that stuff?