Chills in my toddler with a fever

A1 Timeless classic feels a lot like the original piece with heartaches. It might been pitched down and slowed but that might just be me, It feels very slow but so very chill. It might seem scary to some people but I think it's very welcoming. 10/10
A2 Repeats a lot, The sample is nice but then again it repeats over and over which is pretty boring. Not focusing on the repeating bit I feel it gets quieter and loading in some different parts of the song. Its kinda of like A1 in a way where I feel it could be scary but it feels welcoming 5/10
A3 is Scary and just a little bit twisted in the wrong areas, it scares me but then again it sounds amazing. Still repeats the sample over and over but I still love it. It's very scary and feels to me like a wolf in sheep's clothing 8/10
A4 Ballroom dancing alone is the only way I can describe this sample, is not repetitive at all its so mesmerizing and scary at the same time. This piece feels friendly. 10/10
A5 This one feels wrong in so many ways it feels like playing a piece on an out-of-tune piano and stopping halfway. It's very quiet and makes me slightly uncomfortable. 2/10
A6 Feels like a fever dream and I can't put my finger on any of the tunes. I feel woozy listening to this and it makes me feel unwelcome to what's coming. I feel this plays when you're at the beach but you're tired and sick and you can't focus on anything that is going on. 5/10
B1 This feels like my great grandma's house after she died. It felt like less of a place than it once was. Holding memories that I would never get to experience again. 8/10
B2 This feels like my home after I've come home after a long trip late at night and seeing all of the things I had left behind that are in the same place that I had left it. Feels welcome but also sad seeing as im done with my trip. 6/10
B3 Feels like going to a place youve seen in photos before it was abandoned. Knowing what it once was but seeing it all run down and out of its prime. It feels sad but I still know what it once was. 4/10
B4 this one feels contempt. Like tying a game but you still felt you did well. Its a nice tune but yet it fades in and out like your falling asleep after a long day of school. 3/10
B5 slow dancing in a graveyard. Something feels off about this one, very creepy with the right intentions. I guess just everything about this album is off in some way. 4/10
B6 this one is like ending a chapter in your life. It makes me very sad but happy, like im looking onwards and upwards so to say. This feels good to listen to nothing feels off everything feels like it should be there. It makes me think, what really matters? How is what i doing worth while, why cant I just be happy forever. The end is very unnerving how it stops though 10/10

I am a SAHM with a 18 month old and I’m 30 weeks pregnant. I still have my nursing license in case I want to/need to go back to work. My husband wakes up at 5 am for work and doesn’t get home till 6:30 pm. His job mainly consists of desk job/computer work. He goes to bed between 9:30-10 pm. My daughters bedtime is ~8:30pm.
I feel like I am drowning in motherhood and guilt and getting behind on housework. I have asked my husband multiple times to help me. Is it too much to ask? He gets home, we have dinner, and then he just chills until we start bedtime routines. After dinner (or any time really) he never cleans the high chair! So the next morning guess who is in charge of cleaning off old food and spills from the night before? And THEN after I’m all tired and overstimulated, he will want to do something with me or ask for sex. I am so tired of being touched! Being pregnant with a toddler is so rough I don’t want anyone touching me! I never get any alone time. Naptime is about an hour. And I try to nap during that time or just rest. Is it too much to ask for him to do something in the ~3 hours before he goes to bed? I feel like I have to do it all. I clean the entire house. If I leave it, it just sits and sits until I finally do it. I am struggling to keep up since I am pregnant and getting more tired. I have asked him multiple times for help but it just feels like he never pulls through. I get that he’s probably tired from work but I am EXHAUSTED! Tonight after dinner I just said “bye!” And went upstairs by myself. I’ve been trying to reduce screen time but as soon as I left, he turns on YouTube for my daughter.
Anyone else dealing with this? I don’t even know what to do anymore. I’m feeling so depressed and lonely and guilty because I can’t do it all. I’m going to break. Also our family lives ~1 hour away so I don’t have any help from them.

I have serious baby fever haha but my husband is more logical and wants to wait another 1-2 years. I am 30 and he is 28. Together 6 years and married 1. So I am looking for any signs that hubby may be ready sooner.
I got off birth control over a year ago. We used condoms every time for the first 8 months after that. When I got off the pill, I started religiously tracking my cycle (I use the Ovia app). I track my BBT every single morning as soon as I wake up at the same time. I haven’t missed a day. I also track my cervical mucus. We always use a condom for the first half of my cycle. And then if my BBT has stayed high for three days in a row combined with egg white discharge that preceded it, we then have unprotected sex.
We started doing this about 4 or 5 months ago. When I first brought it up to him, he was surprisingly chill about it. He is a BIG over thinker and has anxiety so that surprised me. For the first 5 years of our relationship (basically until we got married) he insisted on using a condom in addition to my birth control pill nearly every time we had sex. So I was quite surprised when he didn’t even ask questions about this method. Heck, for the first 2 years of our relationship, he ran the condo under water every time after we had sex (despite me taking the pill religiously during this time as well).
So a few days ago, I decided to sit him down and tell him more about the method, show him everything in the app, and just let him know that going forward I will probably be showing him my cycle in the app multiple times a week (to take off some of the burden from me and so that I am being more transparent). He thanked me for showing him and explaining everything. But he still seemed super casual about it, even though I told him this method s a bit riskier than others. He didn’t have any questions and didn’t express any concerns.
Anyways, maybe I’m looking too much into his reaction. Could this be evidence that he may be ready for a baby soon? I like to think so lol.

My LO is almost 7 weeks old. At 3.5 weeks norovirus hit our home. Our babe had a 101.5 fever and we rushed to the hospital. I was also actively sick at the time but we only admitted her. I threw up in the hospital twice, once at home beforehand, I was miserable but she came first. Then we were transferred to the bigger hospital 45 minutes away because they found bacteria in her blood. It was protocol to look and I thank my lucky stars they did, because she ended up having bacterial sepsis.
Thank the good lord above our daughter fought off the bacteria very quickly and we were there that long just to finish the course of meds. We still need to do one more blood test for a specific immunodeficiency disorder, but otherwise all her other blood work (other disorders, platelets, white blood cell count, liver, kidney) all look normal.
We ended up spending 2 weeks at this hospital that was 45 minutes away from home. I couldn’t just pop home when needed, I felt like a prisoner. I was freshly postpartum sleeping on a hospital chaibed and the baby could never nap properly because of all the commotion at the hospital. Our only saving Grace were the nurses. There were a few that genuinely cared about our well being and I am so grateful to them.
We’ve been home for a week tomorrow, and I’m still not ok. Most days I feel fine, but then there are days like today where she wouldn’t take a nap (away from me at least, she slept on top of me fine lol) until 4:45 in the afternoon. And I become a basket case of anxiety. My body still aches, apparently my tiny little surface level tear hasn’t healed, I’m having weird urethra pain that “she couldn’t see” so it must not be there, and I’m tired.
Sure I’m getting 4-5 hours and my daughter sleeps through the night now (5-6 hour stretches) but I’m still so damn tired. I’ve always been the type of person that needed 8-9 hours a night. I’m also an extremely routined and tidied person. If I’m off my routine and my house is messy I am a ball of anxiety. And with a newborn…y’all know how that goes. Luckily I’m still able to keep the house somewhat tidy, I clean when she naps. And I’m trying to relax while my husband is home and taking care of our baby, but it’s so hard to not be “on mom mode” and just chill.
Not to mention I now know newborns who get sepsis run the risk of cognitive delays and a risk of dying in the next 5 years, I’m fucking terrified.
So yah, that is my extremely long anxiety induced essay that I realllyyyy needed to type out. Thanks for reading.

My LO is almost 7 weeks old. At 3.5 weeks norovirus hit our home. Our babe had a 101.5 fever and we rushed to the hospital. I was also actively sick at the time but we only admitted her. I threw up in the hospital twice, once at home beforehand, I was miserable but she came first. Then we were transferred to the bigger hospital 45 minutes away because they found bacteria in her blood. It was protocol to look and I thank my lucky stars they did, because she ended up having bacterial sepsis.
Thank the good lord above our daughter fought off the bacteria very quickly and we were there that long just to finish the course of meds. We still need to do one more blood test for a specific immunodeficiency disorder, but otherwise all her other blood work (other disorders, platelets, white blood cell count, liver, kidney) all look normal.
We ended up spending 2 weeks at this hospital that was 45 minutes away from home. I couldn’t just pop home when needed, I felt like a prisoner. I was freshly postpartum sleeping on a hospital chaibed and the baby could never nap properly because of all the commotion at the hospital. Our only saving Grace were the nurses. There were a few that genuinely cared about our well being and I am so grateful to them.
We’ve been home for a week tomorrow, and I’m still not ok. Most days I feel fine, but then there are days like today where she wouldn’t take a nap (away from me at least, she slept on top of me fine lol) until 4:45 in the afternoon. And I become a basket case of anxiety. My body still aches, apparently my tiny little surface level tear hasn’t healed, I’m having weird urethra pain that “she couldn’t see” so it must not be there, and I’m tired. Sure I’m getting 4-5 hours and my daughter sleeps through the night now (5-6 hour stretches) but I’m still so damn tired. I’ve always been the type of person that needed 8-9 hours a night. I’m also an extremely routined and tidied person. If I’m off my routine and my house is messy I am a ball of anxiety. And with a newborn…y’all know how that goes. Luckily I’m still able to keep the house somewhat tidy, I clean when she naps. And I’m trying to relax while my husband is home and taking care of our baby, but it’s so hard to not be “on mom mode” and just chill.
So yah, that is my extremely long anxiety induced essay that I realllyyyy needed to type out. Thanks for reading.

I have OCD and seek therapy for it. It’s not working. I’ve went downhill significantly for several months now. One of my biggest fears is HIV infection. And I’m currently suffering from a “trigger” and it’s ruining my life.
I go to electrolysis appointments for hair removal, and I have convinced myself that back in January I contracted HIV from this particular appointment. I went in directly after someone who I convinced myself has HIV and lack of proper sterilization has resulted in an HIV infection. What makes matters worse is that I got sick one week after this appointment. Very sick. Horrible cough, shortness of breath, lost my voice, fever, chills, body aches, diarrhea, etc. I was so sick that I actually pooped blood on one occasion. I was seeing a guy at the time and went and got an HIV test which came back negative. (Not enough time for the window period of my appointment) I relaxed a little and eventually got better and things were okay for a bit. I just had another appointment and completely spiraled again. I am back at square one still convinced that I got HIV from that appointment and have given it to now 2 men I’ve slept with. I’m just a complete hot mess. I don’t know what to do. I’m not promiscuous (yes I’ve slept with 2 guys in 5 months but this is out of the ordinary for me), I do not use intravenous drugs. So other than that I am a healthy, 30 year old female. I’m not seeking reassurance. I don’t know what I want honestly. I just hate feeling this way. I’m plagued with anxiety and am so scared to take this test in the next few days that I feel physically ill. I’m mostly worried I’ve given it to these 2 guys and how am I going to explain this to them…I don’t know how to calm down. Advice would be appreciated.

Reflecting on 2021, truly marked the zenith of my young career. The pandemic was coming to an end, I was fresh from the hallowed halls of a prestigious but unheralded college, thrust into the corporate labyrinth where, as a mere sidekick to the big shots, I contributed to a deal of record-breaking magnitude. My modest corporate minion life was exaggerated into legend by my professors during an alumni reunion, leading to a rather embarrassing episode where I was paraded around as the poster child of their education career’s success. My parents, not ones to shy away from a bit of pomp, lauded my achievements to anyone within earshot.
But as 2022 unfurled its chaos with the epidemic, my professional life spiralled downwards as swiftly as it had risen. I was laid off, and replaced by a nepotistic hire—my boss's new mistress's nephew. During my dismal final days, my colleagues, once comrades became corporate sharks, whispers of them scheming to claim my last efforts as their own filled the empty office spaces.
Compelled by financial duress to abandon my central city dwelling, I relocated to the outskirts with two college mates, Jaz and Kath, who had similarly found themselves victims of the economic downturn. We settled into apartment 606, a unit with dubious charm, suspiciously affordable on the 13th floor of a dreary building, its corridor haunted by a flickering sensor light that was only designed to function on rare occasions. Yet, the apartment itself was surprisingly very well furnished, almost like something that jumped out from a design mag, out beating sample rooms in Ikea, boasting a spacious balcony, a living room ready for an impromptu soirée, a dining table that’s good enough to hold a banquet(became our co-working space) and a kitchen isle that became our sanctuary and curse.
When we first settled into our new abode, we discovered a trove of fine kitchen utensils, perfect for whipping up sophisticated cuisine and crafting cocktails worthy of a swanky soirée. Tucked away in the fridge, among the remnants of the previous tenants' life, was a quaint note: “The three of us really enjoyed our stay here, especially our meals and nights spent by the kitchen island. We hope you find as much joy in it as we did. Use it well.” With a casual flick of my wrist, I dismissed the note into the garbage can, oblivious to the depth of its seemingly innocuous message. Little did I know, that piece of paper was more a passing of the torch than a simple goodbye.
Our initial days in apartment 606 brimmed with camaraderie and impromptu celebrations: movie nights sprawled on the living room sofas, barbeque dinners under the stars on our balcony, and co-working sessions at the dining table, peppered with resume tweaks and contemplative conversations over cocktails. We even scored a second-hand karaoke machine, allowing me to channel my inner diva—a throwback to my musical theatre days in college and my stint as the voice of corporate presentations and negotiations at my previous job, where I was known for my resonant yet finely tuned voice.
Yet, as the months wore on and the job market remained unyielding, our early merriment slowly surrendered to a creeping anxiety. The kitchen island, once the heart of our home where laughter and shared meals flowed freely, gradually morphed into the epicenter of our collective unease, bearing silent witness to the quiet desperation settling over us.
One evening, in the suspiciously affordable yet stylish apartment, I sank into the sofa, my spirits dampened by my favorite team's disheartening loss. The mood was grim, mirroring my fears of my beloved player's potential retirement at season's end. Later, as we congregated around the kitchen island for dinner, I transformed into an impromptu sports commentator, passionately preaching about the game’s disappointing details that led to failure and my favorite player’s fine qualities. Meanwhile, Jaz updated us on a friend's melodramatic breakup, with guesses that something ugly must have happened behind the scenes. Kath, ever the culinary enthusiast, not only served up her delicious pasta but also dished out the latest celebrity gossip, each tidbit as spicy as her sauce.
The next day, during a late breakfast at the same kitchen island—our unwitting oracle—we were hit by a triple whammy of reality checks. The news of my favorite player's retirement broke, echoing my gloomy predictions from the night before. Jaz chimed in with an update that our friend had uncovered a cheating scandal worthy of its own reality TV special. And Kath, never one to be left out of the drama: her favorite celebrity was now the star of a scandal.
By the third morning, as we sipped our coffee, the newspaper slapped me with another bizarre twist. I was going through the devastating economics and politics sections, then I saw the sports section——featured an irate coach, hell-bent on convincing my favorite player to dismiss retirement plans and keep his jersey on a little longer. Meanwhile, Jaz had good news for a change: it turned out our friend's love story might have a second act after all, as misunderstandings were being cleared up. Amidst these revelations, Kath, who had been grumbling about the nearby supermarket’s inability to stock anything remotely gourmet, and hadn’t had a taste of her favorite Blue Mountain coffee since the beginning of that year, triumphantly found a can of Blue Mountain coffee, and it was on sale and therefore affordable—proof that miracles happen, and sometimes they even go on discount.
As I sat there, absorbing the serendipity of our discussions manifesting into real-world events, I couldn't help but marvel at the mysterious knack of our kitchen island. Was it merely a coincidence, or had this stylish piece of decor become the unlikely conductor of our lives symphony? One thing was certain: life in apartment 606 was never dull, and our kitchen island seemed to be more than just a place to eat—it was a place where, apparently, you could stir the pot of fate.
I decided to conduct a whimsical experiment with our now seemingly magical kitchen island. Clearing my throat theatrically, I declared, "I should be interviewed for a director position." To my sheer astonishment, the next day a headhunter rang me up, claiming I was the ideal candidate for a directorial role at a prestigious corporation in my field. Despite the other candidates possessing decades more experience which defeated me with no effort, and my own lingering self-doubt from months of unemployment, I sailed to the final interview round with the company's executives.
Upon returning to our apartment, I found Kath flaunting a chic dress from a designer brand brand she’d snagged on clearance—a little luxury courtesy of our wish-granting island. Inspired, I approached the island and cheekily requested, "Get us jobs. Something fun." Lo and behold, the following day was spent lounging and binge-watching Netflix, only to be interrupted by a call from a former bigwig at my old job. He was venturing into a more illustrious company and wanted me onboard. The informal chat that followed was a breeze, and just like that, I was back in the game with a fancier title and a fatter paycheck.
The subsequent week was a flurry of celebrations. Jaz secured a senior-level position, and Kath landed her dream job at an influencer management agency. Feeling triumphant, we decided to indulge in a night of fine dining—our first in months. That Friday evening when I went from office to restaurant, on a whim, stopped at a convenience store to grab snacks and cigarettes for our post-dinner revelry. Outside, I encountered a homeless person. After offering him a sandwich (which he traded for a cigarette instead), he took a drag, peered into my eyes, and ominously muttered, “Look, young lady, this isn’t my business, but be wary of what you wish for; everything comes with a price. Good luck and god bless you.”
His words barely registered until later that evening when a mishap occurred that seemed to underline his warning. As we enjoyed syphon coffee post-dinner, a barista accidentally tripped over Kath’s flowing dress. The resulting spill left her with first-degree burns, abruptly ending our night as we rushed to the emergency room. Though it was "just" a first-degree burn, the pain was significant enough to require several days off for Kath’s recovery. Amid the drama, I couldn't help but wonder about the cryptic caution from the man outside the store—had our fortunate streak come with a hidden cost?
We chalked up the coffee calamity to bad luck. The next month flowed smoothly: Kath's fingers healed, she returned to work, and I quickly found my groove at the new job. With all of us gainfully employed, our communal meals at the kitchen island became rare. My mornings were a whirlwind of grabbing breakfast and coffee on the go, followed by an hour's commute to a job that had me scarfing down instant noodles by nightfall, just in time for a quick shower.
As the busy season kicked in, my workload ballooned—not just from the seasonal uptick, but because I was hell-bent on proving my mettle. I quickly outshone most of my peers, and my employer, recognizing a budding overachiever, piled on major tasks, which I eagerly accepted. What started as the occasional hour of overtime soon devoured my weekends. Unpaid overtime, as the fine print in my contract gleefully noted, became my new norm. Driven by a mix of ambition and expectation, I had become the go-to young hotshot, the erstwhile record-breaker now expected to continually outdo myself.
Mentally, I was too swamped to entertain thoughts of anything beyond work, which, in a twisted way, felt like a break. Physically, however, the strain began to show. A bout of flu caught on a business trip escalated into a fever. Sick as I was, deadlines waited for no one, and I soldiered on medicated and miserable. By the time I made it home, my voice had abandoned me. Unable to utter a word the next morning, I resorted to emailing my manager about my sorry state.
That week, robbed of my voice, I mused that it was perhaps a well-deserved hiatus for my overworked vocal cords—a silent retreat if you will. But when my voice did return, it was as a raspy whisper, a shadow of its former crisp and melodious timbre. My doctor offered a grim prognosis: slight improvement might come, but the golden tones were gone for good—scarred by the relentless grind. Ah, the price of ambition—a scratchy throat as a permanent reminder of my corporate conquests.
It seemed I had unwittingly exchanged the clarity of my voice for the tumult of career success. In the midst of our domestic enchantment with the possibly mystical kitchen island, Kath unearthed the contact of a reputed psychic, hailed as the finest in the land. However, the consultation fee was nothing short of princely, and with Jaz vehemently dismissing anything that couldn't be explained by cold, hard science, she promptly opted out of splitting the bill. Kath and I, unwilling to drain our wallets on what could be mere phantasmagoria, reluctantly let the opportunity pass.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but notice a curious change in Jaz’s routine. She had ceased dining at the kitchen island, avoiding it as if it were cursed—or perhaps, in her view, simply out of style. The Saturday morning brought a particularly harsh twist: a murder of crows took to spiralling above our balcony, their cries as sharp as the plot of a Poe novel. We found ourselves drawn to the infamous kitchen island, lined up like the cast of a macabre play, silently praying for the birds to disperse. Kath, ever trying to restore some semblance of normalcy, offered up cups of Blue Mountain coffee. She absentmindedly inquired if I wanted cream or sugar in mine—a blunder that made me realize just how long it had been since our last coffee klatch at this very spot. My inner monologue couldn't resist a dark wish for the crows to scatter, perhaps too dark, for they began to dive bomb our balcony in a feathery kamikaze. The spectacle was enough to knock Jaz off her feet—literally—as her mug met its end on the floor. Kath, meanwhile, made a hasty retreat to worship the porcelain god, and I sat frozen, my brain offline, pondering the twisted power of our kitchen island's apparent wish-granting.
After the unnerving spectacle of crows turning our balcony into a scene straight out of a Hitchcock film, our first rational step—post-collective fainting, of course—was to summon cleaners to manage the feathery carnage. Then, still rattled but increasingly curious, we visited a psychic, who, contrary to the crystal-ball-gazer image, operated out of a posh boutique in a high-end mall and dressed more like she was headed to a fashion show than a séance. We laid bare our saga of the seemingly cursed kitchen island, complete with photographic evidence of where domestic bliss meets eerie phenomena.
The psychic introduced a term that chilled the air around us: “limbo,” the threshold between our world and the otherworldly, and she dubbed our kitchen island the "Devil’s Bargain Counter." According to her, our wishes came with a heavy and unpredictable price, because we have accidentally started trades with beings from the netherworld. Her advice was disarmingly simple: cease all trades on the island. To address the repercussions of past wishes, she advised us the first line of defence, which was an eclectic mix of offerings laid out on our cursed countertop: raw meat(rooster works the best), a cocktail of spices(coca and cinnamon preferably), liberal splashes of spirits(whiskey and rum ideally), and an eerie bouquet of black flowers(luckily I found some black roses at a flower shop of the mall). In a grander gesture of appeasement, Kath relinquished her shiny new diamond bracelet, Jaz her absurdly expensive headphones, and I parted with cash—— a hefty slice of my bonus in hopes of placating whatever capricious spirits we'd angered.
Our return to normalcy was brief but sweet, prompting us to plan a getaway, eager to forget about our nefarious kitchen island. Yet, the respite was merely a tease. Jaz, in a stroke of spectacular misfortune, narrowly dodged disaster twice in one day—first nearly becoming subway track fodder on her way back after work, and then almost getting knocked out by a rogue plant at our apartment building’s doorstep. Clearly, our previous offerings were mere appetizers to whatever forces we'd stirred. The psychic, summoned once again to our now-dubious sanctuary, decreed that the spirits had developed rather expensive tastes, unsatisfied by our initial gestures.
In a desperate bid for closure, we had the psychic over for a nighttime ritual, timed perfectly with Earth's closest approach to the netherworld, according to her. Our living room turned into a ritual chamber, with windows blacked out for days, to keep the otherworldly dealings strictly nocturnal. That night, we arranged ourselves around the island, now less a kitchen fixture and more an altar of last resort.
The psychic, amidst a chorus of Latin incantations, directed us through a chilling séance that included a mirror that reflected nothing but darkness and a burning black candle, the three of us sat in a row, joined hands, eyes closed. When the black candle was flickering at its last, the first eerie scratches heard prompted our eyes to open prematurely, we saw a command appear on the island, written by invisible hand and pen, in blood-red script, urging us to find the next "succeeder" before our lease on otherworldly disturbances could be terminated.
With bated breath, we agreed, and as if by magic, our signatures materialized on the countertop, then faded as the candle sputtered out. We tore off the black cardboard taped on the windows at dawn, the sunrise revealed a final message etched into the surface: "Debt cleared." As the daylight grew, the ominous inscription dissolved into nothingness, signalling the end of our spectral saga.
The ordeal, now officially behind us, left us enjoying a semblance of normalcy: life in 606 returned to its mundane rhythm, with dinners and movie nights back on our social calendar. Though not without its scars—literal and figurative.
It’s been two years since then, Jaz, in the throes of romantic bliss, is now gearing up for a new chapter waiting to be written alongside her soon-to-be spouse; Kath, her career finally taking a lucrative turn, was poised to upgrade her living situation, she secured a lease on a lavish serviced apartment in the city center—a place that matched her newfound financial swagger.
I’m not without my own leaps forward. With a modest boost from my parents, I took the plunge into homeownership, snagging a property within the city’s vibrant confines. The process was a whirlwind of paperwork and decorating decisions, culminating in a space I could truly call my own.
As we are packing up now, my last act is to type out our story, at the infamous island, and of course, I left a note in the fridge for the next tenants:
"Welcome to 606. We had a wonderful time here, especially at the kitchen island, filled with joy and unforgettable moments. We hope you find as much happiness as we did. Use the isle well. Warm wishes, the previous tenants."

i think i have the flu.. not sure. I started feeling sick last thursday with a tickle in my throat and had a fever by the nighttime. fever stuck on and off for 2 days with severe aches, chills, sweats, heart racing. day 3 i got a full blown head cold with blocked nose, pressure headaches, ears plugged. i’m on day 6 and i still have pressure headache.. nose is less stuffy but still a ton of post nasal drip. i feel absolutely exhausted no matter how much i sleep. i feel weak, shaky, nauseous all day long. to the point i don’t think i could walk any real distance.. started coughing like no tomorrow this morning, hardly getting anything up but a little bit. it feels so…. gross to breathe in my windpipes. i don’t know how to describe it. i’m starting to get a bit worried at how ill i feel for the 6th day though. Is this normal?

I was a first time mom and I EBF my baby. She is a toddler now, just passed her 1 year birthday.
One of my husband’s colleague had a baby 2 months ago and husband went to see her. That baby is completely on formula by choice.
The difference between that baby and my early newborn days was so so drastic. That baby sleeps well, is chill with anyone and everyone, just pop a bottle in wherever they are and be done with it, mom is not tied down to anything and can easily be away from baby for more than an hour, she can drink and smoke as much as she likes. She is overall so chill and enjoying this so much.
Stark difference to my early days where I was tied down to a cluster feeding baby, I couldn’t leave her for more than 30 minutes, my nipples were bleeding for the first 4-6 weeks, I was engorged/leaky most of the time, no one else could calm the baby except me and my boobs. She could not and still cannot take a pacifier because I was told it causes nipple confusion and so I delayed in offering it. I had to listen to comments from MiL on how my milk quality is shit and that’s why baby is hungry all the time. I had to listen from my daughter’s daycare that she breastfeeds and that’s why she is too attached to me. I had to supplement baby with extra Vitamin D because breast milk doesn’t have enough for babies.
Now that I am on the other side, I honestly think bottle was the way to go. I think I would have enjoyed everything more if she was bottlefed. 😤

M23. Virginia USA. Trying to figure out if it’s not COVID what else could I have?
Sunday morning I woke up with a sore throat and a bad sore throat all day Sunday. Sunday night my sore throat continued and I picked up a fever of around 101.8 and had chills. Monday I felt mostly fine all day besides fatigue and a sore throat.
Today my sore throat is gone and I am SUPER congested (runny nose, feel like I can’t breathe through my nostrils) and sneezing a TON.
However I’ve done 4 COVID tests (one Sunday night, one Monday morning, one Monday night and one this afternoon) and they’ve all been negative. No white spots in throat to indicate Strep Throat. Don’t feel like I’ve been hit hard enough for it to be the flu.
Could it just be a normal cold? And how are normal colds diagnosed, is there a test you can take? Or is it just assumed if Covid tests are negative?

I’m 37 years old female, 155cm height 62kg weight, Indian origin, no international travel in the last 4 years, non smoker, social drinking 1-2 units a week but none in the recent weeks. Living in the UK for the last 10 years. I’m Non diabetic, non hyper tensive, no allergies, never undergone any medical surgeries and no other medical condition other than this.
Since 2023 I have twice had severely elevated CRP levels (both times >400mg/l) presenting meningitis/ sepsis like symptoms but without no underlying infections. Along with high CRP I have high temperature, chills, high heart rate, skin mottling, light sensitivity, vomiting , debilitating pain / reduced mobility on forearms and wrists. Inflammation levels eventually goes down with hospitalisation in acute care IV antibiotics, vit D, pain medication and magnesium. (each time 6+ days hospitalisation was required as they are unable to safely release me until inflammatory levels showed a consistently decreasing trend)
2024 hospitalisation episode placed me on sepsis watch and I was in extreme pain(upper body - restricted movement, locked jaws in addition to symptoms I experienced in 2023 - also described above such as fever chills vomiting light sensitivity followed through)
Currently I’m home it is 5+ weeks since I came back from hospital but muscle stiffness still remains, I had a rebound attack (fever, chills, skin mottling) and was again placed on 5 days antibiotics but I was able to recover at home. Currently it is more like a slow recovery. CRP although had dropped to 36mg/l 5 weeks ago.
GP is already aware and does not know what to do with me, A&E knows to contain my situation from worsening but not able to diagnose what is causing this kind of inflammatory response.
In 2023 when this happened for the first time i thought it was a one- off abnormal inflammatory response but after the second attack in April this year I’m very afraid. I tried to approach immunologists to consult but many number of them happen to be allergists and don’t take my case. Who should I approach?
I’m listing below diagnoses:
1/ tested negative for ANA, Genetic factors 2/ tested negative for rheumatoid factors (rheumatology team cleared me off any RA/ Auto immune disorders after a year long study of my test results during 2023) 3/ tested negative for lupus related diseases 4/ tested negative for myelitis although my creatine kinase levels were 18u/l as of 5 weeks ago (against normal range 20-200u/l) 5/ Globulin levels were at 41g/l as of 5 weeks ago. 6/ tested negative for a wide variety of viral and bacterial infections (including Covid, influenza, meningitis) , extensive CT and MRIs were done of abdomen, chest, pelvic and brain and nothing remarkable came up to warrant this inflammatory response.

My husband and I (both in our early 30s) are looking to do a trip in September with our daughter who will be 14 months at that point. I had some questions I was hoping people might be able to answer, especially those who have taken young kids before. We haven't decided on a location.

1. How is the climate during that time of year? I know it's the rainy season but is it likely to rain often?Are there locations that are better than others? Will it be too buggy? Will it be too hot/humid for my toddler? We're Canadian so not used to that kind of weather.
   
2. What areas/resorts do you recommend for her age? We'll likely spend the majority of the time with her but we may want to use babysitting services occasionally. I'm a nervous first time mom so I'm not sure how comfortable I'd be about it but any experiences would be appreciated. She's a pretty chill kid so far so i think she would be ok with it. We're mainly looking for somewhere that has great service, especially for very young kids, that has a kid/toddler pool/splash area and has baby necessities like cribs etc. It would be great if the food is good too. Our main goal on this trip is to just relax and have fun with our daughter. Our budget is around 5,000 CAD altogether with her having her own seat on the plane.
   
3. Do you recommend visiting somewhere else instead of Mexico? We're even open to the U.S. but not looking for a Disneyland kind of thing as we want to wait until she can actually remember it and we just want a non stressful less crowded vacation. This is more an anniversary trip for us but as a family. We had a destination wedding in Maui pre-covid also in September and that's the only experience I have had traveling outside of Canada, my husband has done a lot more but he hasn't been to many resorts or tropical areas and not since he was a kid.
   

Thanks in advance!

I work as a casual at a retail job selling sunglasses. I had been put under probation to be promoted as the assistant manager, which I’m sure was bullcrap anyway, but I was getting the hours for an assistant managers position. My manager (been 2 months since she started) has very incompetent and still doesnt know how to work the POS system still, vapes in the back room, gives discounts to customers like free candy, calls one of the team members a fucking bitch, whenever she sees her, cash has gone missing.. and many other problems which I and the whole team have highlighted to the regional manager, with no solutions. I had basically been running the whole store at this point as we can’t work like that with her.
I had been sick from the flu (which I got from her cuz doesn’t want to wear a mask to work), it was pretty bad, I had fevers up to 101.5, chills and tonsillitis, cold cough and all. So I’ve been calling off work for the last week. I have been giving notice that I can’t work the next day with a cover to my manager. The last time I did it, apparently the cover I sought for worked too much and wasn’t allowed to work. There is no way for me to know this, all I can do is ask if they can work, and they said they could. So I informed my manager at 5:43 pm that I found a cover and my manager said the cover can’t work as it’s over her hours. She still managed to give the cover my shift not sure how. Either way the next day she asked me 2 times if I’m able to come to my next shift I said yes, but then she said, I can’t keep having late notice, people are planning their day, and I obviously need notice to give them notice. Now my problem is how am I supposed to know if I’m upto working the next day or not. In my opinion I still gave her plenty notice. I never once misled her and she herself has left shifts midday cuz she felt sick with no cover. Technically it’s not even my job to search for covers, it’s hers, but I still try to find someone so it’s easy on her. At this point I’m not even allowed to get sick.
After this, she started cutting my hours and even removed some of my shifts all together. I asked her why and she said oh I got an email saying the hours have been reduced, which is bull shit cuz when I went to work, her email is always open to download documents and there was no such email. I called the regional manager and apparently they’ve removed the assistant manager position all together, which they had basically put me on probation for.
Anywho, I know I need to find new work now, but it is just irritating how the management doesn’t see how much money they are losing employing such a person as a manager. I’m not even sure how she was hired as a manager in the first place.

Hey all, so back in December, I got hit hard with COVID. You name it, I had it. Body aches, chills, 104F fever, N, stomach ache, loss of smell and taste, etc. It was really bad. Probably the most S I've ever been.
Since then, I have experienced long Covid symptoms. I started losing a bunch of hair in March, and recently, I have been short of breath, anxious, and very fatigued.
Last night, I laid down to watch TV at 7pm, and slept until 6:45am. I remember getting up briefly at one point with a bad gas cramp, but managed to get back to sleep.
When I got up, I felt like I didn't sleep at all. All my limbs feel like there's sand bags on them, and whenever I go up and down the steps, I feel like I'm out of breath.
My stomach is also acting up. I had to go to the bathroom twice so far, and it's been normal, but I feel slightly N. Because I can't breathe right, and I'm a little N, it's making me feel like I'm going to have a panic attack.
My oxygen is fine, I have a meter to test it, and it's at 99%. I just don't know what's going on with my stomach.
Has anyone here had something similar after having COVID?

Hi all. I made a post about three weeks ago about how much I hated the mornings when I commute. It wasn’t the most popular post but I got such good advice from you all and I can’t believe how much things have changed in such a short time. I remember writing that post feeling like my nerves were completely shot and I was defeated, and I now sit on my train feeling like a sane, supported woman. So I figured I’d write an update on what changed.
(Original post here: https://www.reddit.com/workingmoms/s/w6HPZTCopq).
First: I talked to my husband. You all told me he needed to step up and I was a little resistant because we’ve come so far as a couple and through therapy and yada yada. But you were right. I think I had gone so far into therapy territory that I tried not to address it in the moment when I felt angry and heated but instead discuss it at a neutral time away from the heat of the moment. Generally speaking these are good tactics but I just woke up one morning and knew I hadn’t prepped lunches and really didn’t want to get up at 5am when he could just do it and I could sleep later if I didn’t have to worry about everything. So I just turned to him and said “I didn’t make lunches. Can you just do it and be in charge of getting them ready today?” And guess what? He said sure, and did it.
Second: Star chart FTW! This was not a suggestion from this sub but it’s a game changer. My kids were fighting every step of the getting ready process. However, my oldest responds well to bribery and this has been a happy upgrade from swinging between a battle of toddler wills (you’ll never win, ladies) and desperate bribery. She’s now an active participant in getting ready and looks forward to picking her prize every week. She’s in pre-k, so it’s great she’s taking this responsibility for herself. And tho my youngest doesn’t quite understand the chart, she copies everything the oldest does. (My oldest never used to give us a hard time about getting ready until recently, but I’d start this even earlier than pre-k if needed, tbh).
Third: I did my equivalent of “just leave”. Another big suggestion from you all was to just leave for work and let my husband get the kids out on his own. I couldn’t exactly do this, because we only have one car and he drives us all. However, I decided to let us go at his pace instead of taking on the roll of timekeeper. I had a bit of an anomaly in my schedule that let me take the later train, so I missed my train. Turns out he prefers to get us out early so he can exercise before work. Now that he knows that ’ll go in later and it’s on him if he wants his time, he’s more aware.
Fourth and final: another piece of advice from you all. I chilled out a little. Missing my train made me realize taking the next train now and again is not that big of a deal. I can work on the train and as long as I don’t have an early meeting, I can find ways to make up that time as long as it’s the exception not the rule. And I realized that I was bugging out about needing to be at the train 5-10 min early. It may be my preference but I’m still making my train and in return I get more peace from the family which is a good trade off. I also no longer give a shit if I leave the house with beds unmade and dishes in the sink. We’re functioning and that’s what matters.
So in summary, I basically stopped acting like the world would fall apart if I didn’t do everything and put more responsibility on my husband and kid and now everyone is happier.
Thanks, Moms!

2 or 3 days ago my toilet in my apartment overflowed. It had been running all day but flushing fine, until I came back into my bathroom later to find that my toilet had overflowed a ton of water. It was enough for it to go outside of my bathroom and get on a portion of my carpet, probably covering about 2 feet of carpet. I’m an idiot and didn’t think anything about the fact that the toilet water was definitely disgusting, there was nothing inside of the toilet bowl when it overflowed so the issue with bacteria didn’t even cross my mind. I used probably 10 towels to scrub my carpet and soak up the water in the bathroom floor, while wearing no gloves or sanitizing the floor. I then left the towels in my bathroom for the last 2-3 days and tried my best to soak up the water in the carpet but now my carpet smells AWFUL. I washed all of the towels today and I even tried shampooing my carpet, but I can still smell something bad. Late last night I went to bed with a scratchy throat, and throughout today I have felt more and more awful. My entire body feels like someone beat me up, like fever chills before a cold but x10. I don’t have a fever and my throat isn’t swollen, just extremely scratchy to the point where it’s annoying to swallow. When talking a lot I’ve noticed I am getting a little winded as well. I am a bad hypochondriac and have read about every transmittable disease a human can possibly get from dirty toilet water and I am freaking myself out. I have removed the towels and mopped the bathroom floor, and I shampooed the carpet for 20 minutes and I plan to do it again tomorrow, but is it safe to continue sleeping in my room? Could I be getting sick from the carpet molding or the toilet water from the floor and how dangerous could it be?? I am afraid of getting increasingly more sick. If anyone has any knowledge about this please let me know.

2 or 3 days ago my toilet in my apartment overflowed. It had been running all day but flushing fine, until I came back into my bathroom later to find that my toilet had overflowed a ton of water. It was enough for it to go outside of my bathroom and get on a portion of my carpet, probably covering about 2 feet of carpet. I’m an idiot and didn’t think anything about the fact that the toilet water was definitely disgusting, there was nothing inside of the toilet bowl when it overflowed so the issue with bacteria didn’t even cross my mind. I used probably 10 towels to scrub my carpet and soak up the water in the bathroom floor, while wearing no gloves or sanitizing the floor. I then left the towels in my bathroom for the last 2-3 days and tried my best to soak up the water in the carpet but now my carpet smells AWFUL. I washed all of the towels today and I even tried shampooing my carpet, but I can still smell something bad. Late last night I went to bed with a scratchy throat, and throughout today I have felt more and more awful. My entire body feels like someone beat me up, like fever chills before a cold but x10. I don’t have a fever and my throat isn’t swollen, just extremely scratchy to the point where it’s annoying to swallow. When talking a lot I’ve noticed I am getting a little winded as well. I am a bad hypochondriac and have read about every transmittable disease a human can possibly get from dirty toilet water and I am freaking myself out. I have removed the towels and mopped the bathroom floor, and I shampooed the carpet for 20 minutes and I plan to do it again tomorrow, but is it safe to continue sleeping in my room? Could I be getting sick from the carpet molding or the toilet water from the floor and how dangerous could it be?? I am afraid of getting increasingly more sick. If anyone has any knowledge about this please let me know.

I’m having a girls weekend for my birthday. I have children and I wanted a no kids, just girlfriends weekend with my closest friends. Most everyone I invited has children. One of my best friends has a 6 month old who is still breastfeeding. She asked if it was ok to bring the baby and I told her that I’m sorry but I really wanted this weekend to be kid free. I told her there’s no pressure if she can’t make it I understand.
Some context I have a toddler, a preschooler who is on the spectrum, and older children as well. I really just want a child free weekend away with my friends. The issue is she’s brought up the subject passively a couple times and I’ve ignored it since I already made my boundary clear. However, recently when we were hanging out she asked if she could bring the baby. She prefaced it with saying I could be 100% honest. The problem is, setting boundaries for me is very hard and she knows that. I had already made it clear on more than one occasion that I wanted a kid free weekend. She caught me off guard and I gave her a half hearted, “I guess OK.” kind of answer. She even said “you don’t sound too sure.” I don’t think I responded, and then she said that she wouldn’t even asked if the baby wasn’t so easy and chill and that if she didn’t bring the baby she probably wouldn’t be able to participate in everything. Being one of my closest friends, I reluctantly agreed.
As a last stitch effort to find a way to hopefully have her change her mind, this evening I asked her if baby sleeps through the night because I’ve been really looking forward to a good night sleep and she assured me baby did. I feel like I was backed into a corner. As a SAHM, I really really want a child free weekend. How do I tell her honestly that in fact I don’t want her to bring the baby?

I just need to vent here and make it known if anyone else is going through this- you are not alone! ✌️❤️ So, I was extremely lucky and had a very easy pregnancy. Limited symptoms and I was able to maintain my workouts and strength training 3-4 p. Week. I naively thought that this would carryover to PP. (Side note: my LO is lovely, healthy and pretty chill and for this I’m extremely grateful). But the last 7 weeks have been the hardest physically and mentally and I was and am not prepared.
Since her birth I’ve: -Developed De Quervains (mommy thumb) on both wrists and am now having to wear a brace full-time. And it is. So. Painful. Also you use your wrists for everything with a baby!! -had regular PPA flare-ups -jaundiced baby in the beginning due to poor latch. Which didn’t help the PPA. I’m now using nipple shields- but it works so fine! And to top it off… -I am now sitting up at 1am wide awake for the last 3.5 hrs while my LO sleeps soundly. I have a fever, chills and sore breast. All things on the internet point to mastitis 😫
I know there is light at the end of this tunnel..just having a hard time seeing it atm!

My daughter will be 2 next month and has always been a relatively happy, chill, easy-to-distract kid. The last 3 days she’s been bringing the drama like no other, which is new for her- rolling on the ground crying fits lasting forever over the most minor frustrations, kicking, whining endlessly and then swinging back to happy like nothing happened. All molars are in already, she’s eating normally, not pulling ears, etc. I’m at a loss. She’s a little behind on expressive language skills, but she understands everything so I think she gets frustrated we don’t understand what she wants within 0.3 seconds, and goes nuclear.
I’m assuming this is developmentally normal? I’m 7 months pregnant and work a high pressure full-time job from home, which has been hard even with me paying grandma to help out a bit during work hours until my husband comes home (grandma is in her 70s and struggles to keep up with toddler shenanigans).
I’m starting to dread how bad the transition will be with a newborn if it continues like this for months on end. Does it get better?! Any advice or should I just buckle up now?😮‍💨🫠