Adderall before day of surgery

So basically to make this fast and simple we have lived in this property for 10 years. It's been sold twice. 3 different landlords in our time. Recently our landlord has been doing Reno downstairs in second apartment. I paid him rent on the 3rd as always due to my disability coming in that day. Nothing was out of the ordinary. The next day I got a text about needing to talk about the future (this was expected down the line but we'd been told at least 2 months) bear in mind this was two days before my wife was having neurosurgery that he was fully filled in on because he'd been a fairly great landlord and he is younger than us and took a genuine interest in her health. He informed us we had until July 4 to be out (we of course are month to month by this point so nothing sketchy there except for his disgusting choice of timing and disrespect) where it gets sketchy is this.
I brought up our security deposit in passing and was informed that we would not be getting it back, not because of any reno, cleaning etc.. No because apparently as part of the sale he and the previous owner had agreed that neither tenant would receive their deposit back. We of course had not been made privy to this information.
So between having 30 days to move, giving him all my money that wasn't spent on bills and prepping for this surgery and being informed that we were never getting our security deposit back because of some shady dealing behind our back we are genuinely struggling to get things figured out.
Is what they did legal? Do I have a leg to stand on with the ADA because I am disabled? Any help and info would me greatly appreciated.
Thank you for any help in advance.

So basically to make this fast and simple we have lived in this property for 10 years. It's been sold twice. 3 different landlords in our time. Recently our landlord has been doing Reno downstairs in second apartment. I paid him rent on the 3rd as always due to my disability coming in that day. Nothing was out of the ordinary. The next day I got a text about needing to talk about the future (this was expected down the line but we'd been told at least 2 months) bear in mind this was two days before my wife was having neurosurgery that he was fully filled in on because he'd been a fairly great landlord and he is younger than us and took a genuine interest in her health. He informed us we had until July 4 to be out (we of course are month to month by this point so nothing sketchy there except for his disgusting choice of timing and disrespect) where it gets sketchy is this.
I brought up our security deposit in passing and was informed that we would not be getting it back, not because of any reno, cleaning etc.. No because apparently as part of the sale he and the previous owner had agreed that neither tenant would receive their deposit back. We of course had not been made privy to this information.
So between having 30 days to move, giving him all my money that wasn't spent on bills and prepping for this surgery and being informed that we were never getting our security deposit back because of some shady dealing behind our back we are genuinely struggling to get things figured out.
Is what they did legal? Do I have a leg to stand on with the ADA because I am disabled? Any help and info would me greatly appreciated.
Thank you for any help in advance.

Basically the title. In January I got a sudden onset of severe "knee" pain that went away the next day. Went to urgent care the next day because I thought I tore something. Was told it was runners knee.
Went to my gyno in February because I'm deathly afraid of my pap smear which I'm now due for (im 21), and finally got the courage to discuss my ongoing pelvic discomfort and bowel issues. I cannot go number 2 w/out coffee + laxative (mind you, I take adderall 30mg for my adhd.)
My gyno, who was a np, told me she wasn't equipped for this and referred me to a doctor which I really appreciated. I see her on July 5th.
In April I went to my pcp again because my big toe has giving me severe pain for no reason. I also get the knee pain too. It goes between both legs now. PCP suggests PT for my hamstrings, and tells me to change my shoes for my feet. I do both.
PT says it's sciatica. I tell my PCP this, and she says there's no need to investigate further if PT is helping in any capacity. I push back (with tons of apologies in the message) and get told to schedule. I have that appointment on the 18th.
I apologize so much. So so much. I'm constantly stressing that I'd never push for something unless it interfered with my day to day life. I'm always apologizing to professionals for complaining because I genuinely fear of being called over dramatic. My older sister, who has endo, thinks I might have it to. I don't know if I'll have the courage to even suggest it to my new gyno because I'm afraid she'll think I just googled something and have health anxiety.
How do you get over this? How do you advocate for yourself? I have a literal list of issues. From the sciatica progressively getting worse, to the pelvic pain, to not fully emptying my bladder anymore due to constipation + just mucus atp, to constant dizziness. Went to the dentist for sharp pain beneath my ear across my jaw and the oral surgeon says it's not TMD but nerve related and she's clueless.
I've been taking Acetaminophen + Naproxen + Ibuprofen for the past 4 months almost everyday. I've stopped it recently and am trying weed because I'm desperate and it's effecting my education and work. If I sit for more than 30mins my foot tingles and goes almost numb.
If the pain was bad enough, I'd be pushing for more, right?
It is bad, but my people pleasing self is still struggling. I feel like I'm in constant discomfort 24/7. I have documented history on my records of ongoing period pain/bleeding since I was 16. My appearent scatica documented since that appointment in January. My bowel issues documented since last October since I briefly brought it up in a message once. The pain beneath my ear has been brought up to the dental student two years ago since its triggered by cheek being tugged. I know this is important but I'm still worried.
Do you have any advice for someone in my position? What's the right way to advocate for yourself in a way that makes professionals take you seriously? Especially when you're young? Initially, before PT, my pcp said I was too young for back pain. The oral surgeon was confused because I'm too young for the other nerve related thing in that area. I guess this further adds to my anxiety.
Thank you in advance! I don't know who else to ask for advice.

Hi! I'll be traveling to Seoul for the first time this summer and have been doing research on a number of treatments. I wanted to get juvelook volume for my hollow/baggy undereyes, but I stumbled upon a tiktok comment that said they had a doctor tell them not to get juvelook if they were planning on getting surgery in the future as it is semi-permanent and it would make the surgery more complicated. I did want to get undereye fat repositioning in the future but don't have time during this trip since I'll only be in Seoul for a few days before traveling to my next destination. If I can't get juvelook I'd still like to get something for my undereyes if anyone has any non-filler suggestions.
tldr; Has anyone been told by a doctor during consultation that juvelook and future surgery is contraindicated?

I live in Ottawa (F21) and have been diagnosed with endometriosis for a couple months now but suffering from crazy painful diagnosed endometriomas since September 2023 and cysts/ painful periods for 6 years. I can’t even express how terrible this has all been for the past couple years on top of other worsened chronic pain. I have lost my future and I struggle to find passion in life. I can barely work 10 hours a week and only because I have an amazing accommodating work environment due to a center that helps students with disabilities find work. I’ve been trying to get back to school for years mostly to keep this job and if I don’t take a course in the fall I get taken out of my program and lose my job. This has all made my suicidal ideation so much worse and I’m only living for my loved ones who are willing to support me forever if needed. I’m tired of suffering and I don’t want to die but with the lack of diagnoses for other conditions and treatments I have no reason to be optimistic. I’ve been on an IUD for 4 years now after trying other birth control to manage painful cysts and periods. It helped until 2ish years ago when my periods came back a bit less intense but the cramps got so much worse. Before Visanne I couldn’t walk more than 30ish mins because it always caused a flare up and felt like I was going to pull a muscle or too nauseous/ light headed from the pain. I also have hypermobility and I think it’s extended to my hips recently which makes the pain worse. Because of the endometriomas the pain shoots down my legs maybe because of scare tissue somewhere on the sciatic nerve. On top of the hypermobility in my ankles and feet, my legs are not manageable anymore. I was waiting on a gyno referral since January 2023 and finally saw one a couple months ago but she had no updated information including an ultrasound that showed a 6 cm endometrioma on my left ovary from October 2023. I’ve had multiple endometriomas since then that keep hemorrhaging. Gyno recommended Level 2 ultrasound, MRI, Visanne and seeing an Endo Speciaist. I just got my ultrasound results and it said everything is normal as in no signs of endo which sucks a lot because of the flare ups from urinating, bowel movements, orgasming, walking, etc. I just wanted to a good reason for all of it. Started Visanne on May 4th so it’s been over a month but it made everything worse. My family doctor and gyno want me to stick with it but didn’t confirm if this is normal or not. My periods had finally died down to once a monthish but now it’s every couple of days with unbearable pain. Of course the pain causes my whole body to be more tense and pulls my ribs down slightly out of place. This of course has made my traps/shoulders/neck/head pain so much worse from slouching more. This just feels like I’m back at square one where I have to figure out why the pain is so much worse and reminds me of being a kid and trusting my doctors way too much. Can someone please offer any advice? Should I keep up with Visanne? Do you think they’ll still do surgery? Will I recover enough to do a university first year course by the Fall? How do I cope with all of this? I want to ask how I get my life and passions back but that’s an impossible question. I’ve had to accept this is my new norm for the rest of my life but I can’t deal with the pain fluctuations anymore I can’t keep up.
Also I’ve been on 50 mg of pregabilin morning and afternoon. 150 mg of pregabilin before bed for years. 375 mg of naproxen daily since September. Worries me even more that I’m still in this much pain despite taking these daily. I deal with a wide variety of other symptoms but this is already way too long.

I got my surgery 10 days ago and I have a lot of questions. Overall it went really well for those wondering! 1. How long did it take for your body to adjust/become more even? Because I took before pictures and my back is so much more uneven now than it was before

1. Any creative ways to help with the cabin fever? I’m like crazy depressed and I’ve tried everything - TV, crafts, going on walks - but I have no desire to do any of it because of how depressed I am
   
2. It’s incredibly hard to breathe (I think because my ribs readjusted and are pushing on my lungs). Does this go away? And if so, when?
   
3. My scar is really itchy - anything to help that?
   

I think that’s as much as I can think of right now - I am so foggy so I might edit in some later. Thanks!!

I am a 40 year NW 6 and thinking of going with Dr. Bansal/eugenixs based on some the great reviews. I am from the Los Anglees, United States, but results from the US have not impressed me the most in high norwood cases.
My biggest concern is that Dr. Bansal previously did all the extractions, but now she only does the slits and the technicians do the extractions and implants. Overall, seems less involved with the procedure as they have become more popular. I did receive assurances that she would be involved (checks 3-4x a day for 10 minutes etc and I would be the only patient she had those days)
I understand the Eugenixs techs are excellent and that for me to get 4-5k grafts in one sitting requires a team, but just not sure how important doctor involvement is on these steps.
Others I have looked into are Zarev and Pekiner, booked for years, Laorwong refuses to talk to me before the day of the surgery, Pitella/Harrington Hair I messaged last week but have not heard back from yet.
Am I making the right decision going with her? If not, who else should I be looking at? Money and travel is not an issue - I want to do this right.

I was diagnosed with endometriosis about two years ago. There's a centre of excellence for endometriosis in my city so I feel (felt?) well taken care of. "Felt" because I had a difficult experience on my last appointment, a few days ago.
Basically they had been doing a series of checks to see if it was growing, cause the situation wasn't very bad. In April they established that no, it wasn't growing, so the next appointment could be after 10 months. All good, I was relieved.
In the meantime, me and my husband have been trying for a kid, so the doctors sent us for a first informational appointment at the fertility clinic. There, they did a new ecography and they discovered that a cyst that in april was 2cm wide in April, is now SEVEN (7!) cm wide. 🙆🏻‍♀️ How did it grow so much in so little time if they had established it wasn't growing? 😭 I was shocked and angry, although logically I understand our bodies are not robots.
I have never taken the pill or anything like that and by the time I discovered I had endometriosis we were already starting to plan trying for a kid. Now the informational appointment turned into an accelerated start to the fertility treatment so that we can retrieve embryos before I do the surgery to remove this cyst. I still haven't processed everything 😞
The doctor that attended me the other day didn't seem too good imo, so I'll be doing a double check with my gynaecologist, but I doubt she could make such a big mistake. It's probably just that she left me a bad impression because she gave me bad news.
Anyway, I was wondering if you have any general advice for my first surgery. I have actually never had surgery in my life. It should be laparoscopic, unless there's complications...
Thanks, and stay strong ❤️

Female, domestic medium hair, 1 year 8 months, spayed.
My cat got poorly a while ago. She potentially got stung by a wasp and a day later started drooling a lot. I took her in and antibiotics were started, however she wasn't getting better, and she started to lose her appetite. After a couple of weeks of seeing if she would improve we did a stomach scan and her stomach was very full, however the next day it was clear and moving. On a repeat scan a few days later her stomach was still fine, but her bloods had been up and down constantly so we were referred to a specialist. She also had a persistent fever throughout all of this.
At the specialist we did a LOT of tests, however they noted that she was started to getting fatty deposits in her liver and suggested an esophageal feeding tube. The next day they attempted this surgery, however there was an accident and her carotid was cut and a bit of the nerve bundle next to there. She had a xeno-transfusion of dog blood as she was briefly anaemic and was fixed up.
Two days later they put in a gastrostomy feeding tube and monitored her, all whilst on two different types of antibiotics (synulox and Doxycycline). She seemed to be breathing quickly at one point and was kept in to monitor and more bloods run and a scan on her chest, and apparently there were minor changes in her lungs that could have been early signs of lung collapse, but they weren't worried and sent her home with me.
For the first week or so she would regularly have violent tremors, particularly in relation to feeding, and occasionally it would seem like her back legs had seized up briefly and she couldn't walk properly (for a couple of seconds). The first week she was eating incredibly well and finishing plates of food including tuna, biscuits and lickelix, but then her appetite suddenly disappeared.
I had to start doing more tube feeds again, the tremors slowed down but still happen occasionally. This is now 3 weeks and 2 days since she got the gastrostomy tube, 3 weeks and 4 days since the accident, however her appetite is still barely improving. She's playing sometimes now and occasionally tries to run around a bit, and after developing Horner syndrome her eye is looking much better (her third eyelid is a lot more retracted now but the pupil sizes are still different.)
She had some bloods done last week that were perfect, and her temperature was clear too. The week before on a Monday it was normal, Tuesday 39.2, and then normal Wednesday, so they assumed the Tuesday was because of the long drive to the specialists and because she had been seen for a bit by a neurologist before and was likely stressed.
I am worried that her appetite is still not returning - she also never drinks, and the fluids she gets are entirely through her tube. Over the past week she has vomited occasionally, at first it was food, but yesterday she threw up on two separate occasions and it was just white foam.
The vets seem to think the tube may be the reason she isn't eating much, but I am concerned about removing it too early as she isn't eating - also because I am completely out of insurance now (I've gone through £10,000) and am stressed about the potential of needing more tests or surgeries if we reverse too early.
I'd like to know what could be causing this, why she still has no real appetite (although she has always always been interested in lickelix throughout this, and she is interested in food that I am eating - she just doesn't want to eat her biscuits particularly and today for example only had a bit of tuna at lunch after she refused biscuits again) and how long I might expect to wait before she makes improvements in terms of her appetite.
I have noticed today that in certain positions she lays in I can also hear her breathing a little louder than normal if that is relevant.
Thank you.

I will post pictures in the comments. I do have a doctors appt for tomorrow, but am curious if anyone could tell me what this could potentially be?? I am a 29 year old female with no prior ear issues since I was in elementary school. I am not sure if this would be useful or not but prior medical history - anemic, eczema, mild allergies during the spring/summer, I had surgery in February to remove my teeth after severe hyperemesis gravidarum both pregnancies which ruined them beyond repair and periodontal disease. I had my 2nd son 8 months ago. I currently wear a denture. No prior drug abuse and I take 50mg Zoloft daily. Both of my son's and my husband are symptom free and feel like their normal self. I woke up this morning with the following sudden symptoms: severe chills (no fever), a swollen lymphnode/tenderness on the left side of neck, a sore throat, and fullness of head and my ears. At 3pm I now have a fever of 102 and feel awful. was periodically sneezing the last couple of days but other than that, nothing. My throat looks red and irritated (I do not have tonsils). I decided to check the inside of my ears with my ear camera and discovered this!! There is a rock hard bump on the inside of my right ear canal that has blood and yellow on it. both of the insides of my ear canals have a white layer on them with yellowish wax? They look swollen/irritated and feel full. I also noticed there is a black hair on my right ear drum. They have never looked like this before in the past when Ive used my ear camera. Any opinions or possible leads on what it could be would be appreciated!!

Hey yall, anesthesia resident trying to learn more about diabetes management preop and have read a few different things so wanted to get a consensus:
From what I’ve seen, in general:

1. Metformin is stopped 2 days prior. How would we control their bg if they don’t concurrently use insulin?
   
2. Do not administer AM insulin lispro given that surgery is in the morning. If surgery is in the evening, can continue and stop lispro evening dose. If patient is a type 1 diabetic, do I continue a fraction of this dose?
   
3. Basal insulin is continued night before at 75-100%
   

TIA

Female, 22, 68kg, 5’3, UK. On mobile so I’m sorry for any formatting issues.
The findings are: “Normal mediastinal contours. The lungs and pleural spaces are clear”
Context: Back in December I had an OOH cardiac arrest. I never actually got told why, just that I got also got admitted with aspiration pneumonia.
I only know what my discharge paperwork stated, that it was an OOH cardiac arrest, the aspiration pneumonia, all the viral swabs came back negative, blood work results which mean nothing to me but that I also only had opiate levels that would correlate to the drugs given in route (I was airlifted to the nearest major medical hospital), my right upper lobe collapsed. That’s all I can make out of it. I’ve been left with dysphasia from repeated failed attempts to extubate, but this is something that in time should improve. I was in a coma for 3ish weeks. I remember nothing at all of the 7 days before the event, some things I did were wild by the looks of it and very out of character. I remember things in patches for the 6 days before that. They questioned an opioid overdose according to my notes, which confused me at the time because drugs aren’t my thing but since I didn’t remember anything then it’s a possibility.. but since looking at my GP records it says I take methadone. I never have, or anything similar, but it makes sense why they would think an OD now. The incorrectness of my records are something for another time tho😂 I should hopefully find out more in time, I have a post critical care appointment coming up.
I had a follow up chest xray on 8th May, but never got told the results. According to my notes I did on the 13th May in clinic, and was told of the follow up treatment, but I wasn’t even in the county on the 13th for this to be possible.
I have no clue what these results mean, google isn’t clear and says contradicting information but I wouldn’t expect anything less 😂
So simply asking, what do these findings mean. If anything.
Rest assured: I am speaking to my drs surgery tomorrow about everything regardless.

SO for starters — I’m housebound and chronically ill, I guess I have a relatively ‘easy’ life. I watch my 2 yr old sister for no pay from 6-4 every day of the week but that isn’t the worst of things. I definitely don’t hate it by any means!! I’m in the comfort of my own home, so it’s nice..
I recently had surgery though, cleaned and reorganized my whole room beforehand, and spent the last week partially in bed, calling friends, reading, trying new foods and medicines, sleeping ‘irregularly’, being cared for — and I really liked it. Not so much the ‘being cared for’ part, but I enjoyed the change a bit.. I tend to get really bored with my usual routine seeing as I’m housebound. And I’m just REALLY dreading getting back into it.. even though I’ll be eating tastier foods and being more active, spending more time with my sister etc. I just don’t wanna!! I would have a pit of dread in my stomach when I was still in school at the ends of breaks for the same reasons. When I was younger, I hated the smell of tacos for a while and golden hour as a whole because it reminded me of sundays before school.
Does anyone else feel this way about having to get back into routines? Sometimes I’ll disrupt my own routine on purpose because it’s too similar to something I do on a work night even if I enjoy it (like, I won’t watch tv during dinner or something).
What are some benign, little, but effective things I can do to sort of change up my routine without it being super drastic? For example, I had slept turned around in bed last night and listened to music (I usually never do).. How do you cope with getting back into a routine you don’t enjoy?

I want to know if anyone else has this problem. When I was younger this was the only thing that I wanted to do and I worked 10 years prior to build up my following before going from corporate to full time creator. So I have been working very hard at everything. Fast forward to now, I have a few employees, making money well in the six figures, and a lot of mouths to feed. And when the views start to dip, it becomes extremely hard for me to feel like I am going to make it through the other side. And right now I am experiencing a severe dip.
I have thought about finding another corporate job but perhaps in a more executive position as that I feel would match my qualifications. I really want to find something stable and have my weekends and nights back where I could spend it with my lover, and just be able to rest. I wake up every morning and work from 9am to 2am, and I don't have weekends or time off. I also just had surgery a week ago, and when I got back from the ER, a few hours later, I went right back to work.
While that sounds fantastic to not have to do that anymore, the idea of giving up my ambitions and dreams of one day really making it and being really big, is what is stopping me from finding that job because this is the only thing that I've ever wanted and continue to want which is I still want to be invited to movie premieres and go to exclusive events and meet celebrities. And I'm fortunately to have that now. But I feel that is the only thing keeping me from not finding another job, and as I'm sure those reading this can tell, that is not a good enough reason.
Is anyone else on this same boat?

On Tuesday (6/4) my dad (84m) had a quadruple bypass with cow valve graphs.
The bypass itself was a success, however we have been experiencing some set backs in recovery that I thought I would share here.
On Thursday (6/6) my dad's heart stopped. He was fully conscious when it happened, and in fact only lost consciousness when his ICU nurse gave him drugs to knock him out and hopefully prevent him from remembering any of this. For fifteen minutes they would shock his heart, only for it to drop again. Over and over. After 15 min. his heartbeat was stabilized and they took him to be examined, as the original thought was this could have been caused by either the cow valves or his new arteries not taking properly. A bad stitch was also proposed to us as a possible cause. None of those things were found, the surgery itself was a success.
Last night (6/9) at 2:00 am my dad's heart stopped again. This time it took 12 minutes for him to be stabilized. Like the first time, he had come out of the sedation just the day before. He was fully conscious again as it happened, so the same nurse gave him drugs to knock him out, and wow but I am hoping he really won't remember either of these incidents.
Based on the second incident they are now saying it was probably down to an electrical misfire in his heart, and the EP (electrophysiologic) Cardiology team will be seeing him tomorrow to both figure out the exact cause and determine best next steps. As of now the options on the table as we know them are further studies and/or numbing a faulty nerve and/or putting in a pacemaker and/or putting in a AICD device (implanted defibrillator).
I am sharing this to get it off my chest and make it all feel that much less scary, but also to highlight how incredible a good and responsive cardiac ICU team can be. I feel so lucky my parents live in a state that has legislation mandating that ICU nursing teams can never have more than 2 patients at a time so each patient gets the care and attention they need. Further, I want to emphasize that when the surgical team says the first 48 hours after surgery are critical, they really mean it.
My mother and I are currently really hopeful that the EP along with the entire Cardiology team will be able to figure out what is going wrong with my dad's electrical impulses and fix it. All of that said, it is really hard to see him in the ICU day after day, especially since with the exception of Wednesday and late in the day yesterday he has been sedated and unconscious since the surgery. The toll this recovery is taking on my mother and I emotionally is far larger then I had expected it to before his surgery.
We are currently camped out in a hotel room near the hospital and talk of little else together. If you are prepping to go through this, I would really rec looking up the nearby hotels and having a handle on the different rates and amenities they offer before you are in a distressed state. We overpaid for the hotel we are currently at because we waited until after his first heart stoppage to book it, and at that time neither of us had the energy to properly find a good rate.
Edited to add: I would also rec setting up text trees. For each friend group etc, pick one person to text so you don't have to message everyone yourself endlessly. Rehashing everything again and again with worried and anxious friends and family is exhausting in its own right, and simply having a few solid people you can talk to who will tell everyone else helps. An added benefit is they can filter out everyone else's anxieties so you don't wind up with everyone's wild guessing worst case scenarios echoing through your head.

Hi all! So i’m currently 11 days post op and being the anxious person I am, I was thinking that i’m sure there’s many other who were thinking the same things as I and wanted to offer a post as to what to expect and do’s and don’ts that I learned through my experience.
Leading up to the procedure for me it didn’t really set in until I was sat in the chair 😂. If you are an anxious person and are able to choose to do IV Sedation I would go that route. It was honestly amazing they did the IV super quick and start with an anxiety reliever and then boom I was OUT literally within seconds. Felt nothing and woke up. Now don’t let this next part scare you but I was very nauseous when I woke up and threw up about 3-4 times (keep in mind this was the first time i went under and it’s totally normal to throw up after first time going under anesthesia!). They will prescribe you strong antibiotics and some sort of strong medication for the pain, TAKE YOUR MEDICATIONS ON TIME!! I cannot stress this enough take your meds on time it’s the best way to keep the pain at bay and allow the antibiotics to work how they should.
Days 0-5 (0=surgery day) is when I experienced the most pain, discomfort, and swelling. I was lucky enough to not have that much swelling or bruising, however if you get it don’t worry it’s very normal! My surgeon office told me To leave the extraction areas alone till day 7, I was able to brush my front/middle teeth but was told to stay away from the back teeth near the sites. (Every office is different and will give you different post op instructions so just follow those!)
Day 6-11 is when I personally started to feel better. I switched from the pain meds they prescribed me to advil liquid gels because I personally didn’t want keep depending on the harder meds. I was able to talk more and actually open my mouth a little more. If you experience jaw soreness and stiffness I would recommend to do jaw exercises Starting day 6 or 7, opening your mouth as wide as possible and hold for ten second, then close your mouth for ten seconds, then move your jaw to the left for ten seconds then repeat to the right side. You should only really do this a couple times throughout the day, it will feel weird and uncomfortable but the best way to get mouth feeling back to normal is to work through that discomfort, but don’t push yourself to hard, you know your limits. On day 7 I was cleared to return to normal diet habits with staying away from crunchier foods and candy. As well as to start using the syringe. If your office doesn’t provide a syringe buy on off amazon they are super cheap and it’s really good to clean out the holes, you just fill a cup with warm water and salt, mix that till the salt dissolves then pull back your cheek and stick the tip of the cured needle end at the top of the surgical hole and slowly flush the bottom holes out. I was told to only do the bottom sockets because food doesn’t really get stuck in your upper hole because gravity with pull it down but I flush each socket 2-3 times in the morning, after each meal, and at night before bed, I will lightly swish some of the water to reach my top sockets just so they are also getting some cleanliness.
Now for food, not being able to eat the food I wanted was probably worse than the pain itself lol. I’ve ate mashed potatoes, applesauce, pudding, soup that were not chunky, blended oatmeal, ice cream and lots of protein shakes and water. I stopped eating those foods around day 7/8 and started to incorporate things like pasta, oatmeal, mashed bananas, and eggs. It’s now day 11 and I’m going to try eating with my back teeth. My office told me that going back to eating solid food is going to be up to you and your comfort level and your teeth pain level. I saw a lot of people recommending to slowly transitioning into softer food, instead of just going full fledge and on your normal diet, which is what I’m doing as well. I also see lots of people who are already back to the normal diet eating things but pizza and burgers and sandwiches and I really just think it’s my anxiety making me think of the worst possible outcome but again you know your body and do whatever feels right to you. But whatever you do don’t drink soda for about a week or so and don’t use straws and swish or spit vigorously to avoid dislodging the clot and getting dry socket!!
I really hope this helps anyone who is nervous or just doesn’t know what to expect. This was my personal experience, everyone heals differently and reacts to pain differently, but just take this time to rest watch your favorite shows, read your favorite book, and just do nothing. If you have any questions i’d be more than happy to do my best and answer!!

I've been reading a lot lately about MP. My neuro finally diagnosed me past fall, after 3 years of dealing with this. 46F, I've lost 80lbs since last August and the MP has only gotten worse. I also have OA, and need both knees replaced. I have 2 uterine dermoid cysts that are needing to be removed. One is the size of a grapefruit. My original orthopedic blamed the MP on the dermoid cysts. My neuro and obgyn chatted and neither one believes the dermoids are in any way impacting the MP. They both recommend a new orthopedic. He would like the dermoids removed before my knee replacements are done. My MP kicks in with the typical standing and slow walking. If I sit down it will go away. It never used to burn. Recently it's been taking longer to go away when sitting, fading I to burning. It's also starting to kick in faster within 2-3 mins of me standing. I am a stay at home parent, with 3 teenagers. Simple things like cooking are becoming problematic. Bc I have to sit every 2 mins. It's hard to take them on errands. Little things take a toll on me. Ontop of it I have bone on bone knees. As of right now, I have a pain management doctor who is kinda helping with all this. I'm on tramadol for knee pain, also low dose naltrexone as it suppose to help block pain receptors. He is willing to try other things like ketamine therapy, nerve blocks, etc. I am attempting to get my bmi down for surgery, so I am still trying to loose another 20-30 lbs. I am active riding 8-10 miles a day on my recumbent bike. My doctors are thrilled, but I'm sitting here like hey guys I can't do simple things anymore. This has been very trying. It's helpful to read all of your posts.
I am going to try nueromuscular massage soon. I was in Pt for almost a year and half for my knees and MP. Nerve flossing did nothing for me. I had been on gabapentin prior to my mp, during my mp, does nothing.
What am I missing. What else should I be doing? What have you found that helps. I walked out of my most recent nuero appt with a lousy script for a trasdermal cream with gabapentin in it. I'm loosing hope.

I want to tell a bit of my story before I disappear once and for good. Even if I’m really scared, being alive is more painful and I can’t do it anymore. I’ve done therapy, tried many psychiatrist, had different meds but nothing helps me.
I was a Hikikomori for 8 years. Which means I didn’t leave the house at all and was a shut in. Mainly because I had another plastic surgery and got botched, I found myself with an ugly scar in the middle of my face and a deformed upper lip. I’ve had 10+ plastic surgery to try feeling better about myself but I still feel ugly and deformed. I know I can look ok in some pictures but I don’t in real life. I’ve never been asked out by any guy and never had a relationship irl, only online ones. I suffer from being ugly too much and it’s ruining my life I keep comparing myself to other women online and it’s ruining me.
I am also very depressed and have lost all joy in life. I get extreme panic attacks and anxiety. I’ve been addicted to pain killers they helped me go outside again a bit but I can’t go outside without them. Other meds don’t help me and I stopped taking them 10 days ago.
I know I will never feel good about my body because not only I hate my face but my body is also fucked. I’ve had anorexia and bulimia for 15 years and kept gaining and losing weight which made me get stretch marks everywhere on my body, cellulite, bad skin, and visible veins. No one would ever accept that and I don’t.
I hope this pain will be over soon. I’m done fighting. Thanks for all the people that took the time to read me.

My hands are trembling to the point where I've had to restart this several times. I'm a guy who doesn't scare easily, but this encounter has me shaking like a hit dog. I'm still sitting in my work truck, trying to work up the courage to step outside again. Worse, I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to tell my boss what happened. I was already on thin ice with him, and this shit might cause me to break through to the freezing water below.
But fuck it, because this was weird.
I install cable for a living. I didn't have dreams of stringing cable when I was a little kid, but my previous life choices left me with few options. In high school, I fell in with the wrong crowd. It started with skipping school, sneaking alcohol at weekend parties, and some petty theft, but it didn't stay that way for long. Soon, I dropped out and dedicated my life to committing robberies to pay for my pill addiction. I wasn't living as much as I was running on a treadmill. I did whatever I could to stay on my feet but constantly felt myself slipping.
My bottom came when I was jumped by two guys who sold me pills. I had bought from them before and trusted them, but the feeling was not mutual. Someone had dimed a buddy of theirs out to the police, and he was looking at real jail time. They assumed it was me and beat me senseless.
I was greeted at the door with a punch to the jaw that sent me reeling. My brain, already addled and slowed by Oxi, was in the middle of putting together what was happening when the next punch caught me in the temple. I collapsed to the ground and covered my neck and face as best as I could. The next few minutes were a flurry of punches, kicks, and stomps. When it was all over, I had a broken jaw, a shattered wrist, several wounds that required fifty total stitches, and a concussion.
That's how I kicked my painkiller addiction.
I can joke now, but the next six months were the hardest in my life. The withdrawals I had were the worst thing I've ever experienced. Having them while I was recuperating from my injuries was a circle of hell I didn't think existed. I wanted to die most days and felt lost in the darkness. But sobriety was the beacon on the horizon. Even during my darkest moments, I could still see the fuzzy spark of white light off in the distance. It kept me going. Six months from my beat-down day, I came out the other side healthier but weaker.
I needed a job but had limited skills. Thankfully, I had a former pill buddy who managed to keep steady employment with the cable company. We always got along, and he called in a few favors and hooked me up. I got hired, but it was a struggle. Not the work, which was easy to learn, but dealing with the public without telling them to fuck off. Worse, was trying to avoid the flood of illegal substances that are around you at all times. Customers will offer you weed or pills for all the channels, or bored co-workers will have something to "make the day pass by." It's a lot to dodge, especially if you're in recovery. Whenever I felt the itch again, I'd feel the scar tissue from my wrist surgery, and the itch would pass.
The last week has been one of those "Shit, is it Friday yet?" weeks that seem to be growing in frequency these days. I don't want to bore you with the details, but needless to say, most nights, I needed to reach out to my sponsor and have them talk me off the ledge. We recently had a turnover at the executive level, and my new boss Rory was a tremendous cock. A rager at levels science hasn't ever seen before. Just the worst dude imaginable.
Part of Rory's new crusade was coming in and firing a bunch of guys. The company called it "checking for redundancies in the labor force," but we all knew what it was. He was picking off two classes of people: high earners and guys with spotty pasts. I was in the latter group and imagined it was just a matter of time before my number got pulled. I was on pins and needles all week. I made sure I was the greatest cable installer you'd ever meet. So far, I was getting high marks but the forced joviality was wearing thin.
It's safe to say my joy had left on a one-way ticket. I have no clue when—or if—she'd return.
Back to this shit. I had just finished up my last job of the day when my work phone started buzzing. I cursed and thought about not answering, but the threat of unemployment loomed too large for me to do that. I picked up and knew from the jump my day was far from over. Denise from dispatch asked if I could cover a job left hanging because of "scheduling conflicts" (see: the original installer had been let go). It was near where I was and was a simple install.
I gritted my teeth and agreed. I liked Denise and knew she was worried about the hammer falling on her, too. She thanked me profusely, and promised to bring me cookies tomorrow. Since she's a hellcat in the kitchen and getting close to a dispatcher never hurts, I said no worries. I hung up, balled up my jacket, and screamed into it. I felt better after that.
981 Maple Street was about five minutes away, but it felt like a world away. Maple Street was at the end of the neighborhood where large swaths of grass fields faded into a thicket of woods. The woods rose up into the foothills until they graduated to mountains. To borrow a phrase from Shel Silverstein, the house resided where the sidewalk ends.
The house, an off-white birdhouse ranch type, was a little run-down but no worse than any of the others that populated this neighborhood. This place had been hit hard by economic times, and property values had plummeted. It was slowly recovering. In five years, this would be a place most current residents wouldn’t be able to afford. The front yard had a large oak tree that looked amazing but had killed the grass under its canopy. The rest of the yard looked well cared for.
I knocked and heard a few voices talking on the other side of the door. It opened, and a man in his late 40s stood there with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. He was tall and thin, save for a middle-aged paunch. His face was starting to crinkle at the edges, but he was southern California middle-aged, which meant he was holding up pretty well. He did look tired, though—the bags under his eyes were full-on steamer trunks.
"You with the cable company?" he asked, knowing I was.
I nodded. "You requested an install, right?"
"Yes, I did. Please, come in."
He opened the door wide, and I walked in. The house was pretty bare with a bachelor pad aesthetic. That didn't make much sense since I heard a female voice talking to him. I assumed it was his wife. I believe in a lot of wild shit, but to think that a wife would be fine with their house decorated like a 23-year-old bachelor lived there was a bridge too far.
"I'm Tom," the guy said, extending his hand. I shook it. "What did you need from my end?"
"Do you know if there was a previous hookup here?"
"Ugh, yeah. There is one in this room and another in the back bedroom."
"Okay. I should put the modem in a spot that'll hit the whole house. The signal can get wonky if it's in a room behind a wall or bricks or anything."
"This room is probably the best spot then," he said.
"Perfect. I have to get under the house, check the old connections, and replace some parts. Where's your hatch to get under the house?"
"Oh, it's around back. You can exit out this side door and walk through the backyard. It's on the eastern side. You might need a screwdriver to remove the grate. Do you need one?"
I pulled a screwdriver from my pocket and showed him. "I should be good. Thank you, though."
"I should've guessed you'd have one."
"I appreciate your concern. Is there anything in the backyard I should be worried about? Dogs? Kids? Wild dogs? Wild kids?"
It was standard banter, and it always got a chuckle out of people. Same thing happened here. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "You should be good."
"Alright. I'll get started so you can get online as soon as possible."
"Great! If you need anything, I'll be doing some work in the back bedroom."
I nodded and headed for the side door. The dining room door led to the pie wedge-shaped backyard, which was larger in the back than the front made it look. The grass was as cooked as its kin in the front, but islands of green weeds seemed to be thriving. In the corner of the lot, an old metal shed stood, rusted to the point where I assumed divine intervention kept it standing. It seemed to have been there since the house had been built – or maybe several decades before.
When I turned the corner of the house, I spotted a woman and child staring into the corner of the yard, their backs facing me. The Woman wore a faded blue dress that fit her well. Tom had, it seemed, out-kicked his coverage with her. I didn't want to startle them, so I offered a friendly "hello" to the pair. The kid started to turn, but the mother placed a hand on their shoulder and kept their heads facing away from me. I squinted along the treeline, trying to see what they were concentrating on, but I didn't see anything unusual.
Just wanting to be done with the job, I let them be and moved on. I turned another corner to the house's short side and spotted the grate leading to the crawlspace. The grate looked as old as the shed, and I wasn't sure I would even need the screwdriver to open it. Hell, I was sure the thing would disintegrate in my hands as soon as I touched it.
I crouched and was about to pull it off when I heard something rustling near me. I glanced back to where I had seen the mom and kid, but they were gone. I assumed I had heard them leaving. I pulled the grate off – I was right, no screwdriver necessary – and as I set it aside, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.
It was the kid. A boy around eight or so. But they weren't staring at me exactly. They were looking away from me, staring up at the roof line. I found it odd. Clearly, the kid wanted to talk to me but had turned their back on me. I coughed to let them know that I knew they were there, but they didn't respond.
"Hey man, what's up there?" I said.
"Nothing nice," he said, still keeping their gaze away from me.
"Oh," I said, "Not going to hurt me, is it?"
"Maybe," he said.
Not the answer I was expecting. "What is it?"
"They told me you'd know soon enough."
As he said that, I felt something crawling across my hand. I pulled my hand away from the house and shook it. I saw a spider land in a pile of leaves and scurry away. I let out a nervous laugh. I'm not scared of spiders or anything, but the shock of being told some unseen thing was watching me and didn't look pleased, coupled with the sensation of something on my skin, was enough to justify a quickened heartbeat.
I looked back at where the kid had been standing, but he was gone. I chalked it up to kids being little weirdos and went back to work. The faster I could get this installation done, the quicker I could go home and smoke a bowl. I let Kush be my guide. I put up my hood, turned on my small flashlight, and shimmied through the opening under the house.
I know guys who've worked for the company for years and still dread going into a crawl space. Granted, it's not my favorite thing to do, but I don't mind either. The bugs can be a nuisance but if you don't bother them, they tend to not bother you. Same with rats and mice. Raccoons, though? I crawl out and call animal control. Those little dudes are cute but nasty as all get out. My path today was nothing but cobwebs, so I was okay.
I flashed my light around and saw where the cable line went up into the living room floor. My job here was to ensure the coaxial line's integrity was still good. If it had been chewed on or anything, I'd replace it. Sometimes, I just replaced it anyway—saving myself a potential job later down the line.
I crawled over to where the line came in from the pedestal and started my once-over. I not only looked for any damage but also ran the line through my hands to make sure my eyes didn't miss anything. I was under the dining room area when I heard that side door close.
I stopped. Tom said something, but it was muffled. I wanted to be nosy, so I waited a beat to hear if anyone spoke back to him. Someone did. It was soft and quiet – I assumed it was the Boy – and I didn't make out what they asked, but I did hear Tom's response. In a firm voice, he said, "No, not right now. Run along."
There were footsteps over me that faded into another section of the home. Tom said, "He always wants to jump the gun. How many times do I have to tell him?"
I suppressed a laugh at the last line. It's the official father's lament. I kept moving my hand down the line and didn't feel nicks along the cable. In fact, on closer inspection, the line looked almost new. I was planning to change it, but this looked like it had been installed last week.
I could hear someone walk into the living room as I reached the spot where the line went through the house. Another pair of footsteps followed the first, and I heard a breathy but detached woman's voice ask, "Can we show our faces now?"
"I just told the boy 'no.' What makes you any different?" Tom said, an edge to his voice.
A chill raced through my body. I knew those words, but this conversation made me feel like I spoke another language. Can we show our faces? Why would you not?
"Do you think he'll see us?"
"If I have my way," he said, not finishing that thought. "Leave me be. I must try to get some things done before he leaves, and you two keep bothering me."
What did Tom mean to get some things done before I left? What did he have in mind? While trying to process all this, I heard something shuffle in the darkness just beyond my flashlight beam. I moved it around, trying to see the telltale glowing eyes of varmints, but nothing flashed back at me.
I heard something shuffling again, this time down by my feet. I cocked my head as best as I could and shone the flashlight into that corner of the house but, again, there wasn't anything else down here but me and a thousand spiders. I sighed and finished my inspection of the wire.
As I turned to crawl back out from under the house, I heard somebody sneaking around on the floor above me. The wood groaned as the person moved slowly. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but they wanted to keep it a secret. A shadow fell over the pinprick of light from where the cable went into the house. Someone was standing over it.
"Can you hear them down there? Moving in the dark?" It was the Boy. “They like the dark.”
"What are you saying?"
"The little shadows," he said, "They live down there. Do you hear them?"
This kid was creepy as hell. "I, ugh, I can't hear you, dude," I said, inching my body away from the wire, "We can talk inside."
"They're going to get you, but that's okay," he said, "It only hurts for a little bit, and then you're fine."
Fuck. That. I had no desire to respond to that nightmare of a statement. I hastened my inch-worming, heading back towards the open hatch. As I did, I heard more movement in the darkness around me. I tried to ignore it, but it was a fool's gambit. It was impossible to ignore.
I was getting closer to the opening when I saw a pair of tiny legs walk in front of the hatch. It was the Boy. How did he get there so quickly and without me hearing him run on the floor? I didn't have time to run through the scientific method because the Boy leaned down and placed the metal grate back over the hatch.
"Hey! Hey!" I yelled. "I'm still under here!"
The Boy didn't stop. Instead, he placed a trashcan in front of the grate, enshrouding the entire crawlspace in darkness and trapping me inside.
"Hey! I need you to move that!" I screamed. No response. I raised my fist as high as possible and punched the floor above me to hopefully get Tom’s attention. That was a mistake, as I managed to punch straight into an old nail. I felt it puncture in between my knuckles. The pain was instant, and I let out a howl.
I shook my hand and swore a blue streak. I reached up with my other hand, felt the tip of the nail I had managed to punch, and found a flat spot next to it. I banged hard on the floor and yelled again for some help. Nobody responded. Not at first.
Then I heard someone chuckle under the house.
I couldn't locate where it had come from because it sounded like it was all around me. I swung my light around as best as I could but didn't see anything. No glowing eyes, nothing. I inched forward a bit, and someone laughed again – this time, it was to my right. I turned my light in that direction and saw a sudden flood of light fill the space under the house.
"What the hell?" I said, my desire to leave overtaken by a desire to know what was unfolding next to me.
A pair of kid legs dropped down from the hole in the floor. I realized then that the hole must be an interior crawlspace. The kid had blocked off the metal grate and opened this hatch for some reason. While he dropped his legs down, he didn't move any further.
"Hey, you have to open that metal grate," I yelled. "I don't want to be trapped down here."
"They told me they needed you," he said, followed by a slight chuckle.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, not caring that I was talking to a child. "Open the goddamn grate!"
"The shadows are approaching," he said, pulling himself back into the house. He placed the lid back on the hole, and I was trapped in the dark again. I cursed to myself and started pounding on the floor again.
"Hey! Someone come help me!"
That's when I felt something run across my legs. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It didn't feel like the tiny claws of a passing rat. It was cold to the touch, but as it hit my skin, I felt a burn in my bones. It's hard to explain, but I felt both extremes simultaneously. Whatever it was skittered off into the darkness of the other side of the crawl space.
The kid started laughing again, which brought me back to reality. I army crawled as fast as I could to the grate. I balled up my fist and punched in the middle of the metal. The blow knocked the old nails out of the wall, and the grate broke up. I was about to push away the garbage can when it suddenly wheeled out of the way.
I saw Tom's legs standing there.
"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.
I got out from under the house so fast that I left a me-sized dirt cloud in my place. Once out, I shook my body loose as if I had things crawling all over me. Tom watched but didn't say anything at first. We finally locked eyes, and he could see the rage, fear, and confusion on my face. He wisely waited until I spoke first.
"What the hell is wrong with your kid? He blocked me under there and taunted me from the indoor crawlspace."
"What are you talking about?"
"He told me the shadow people or something were watching, and then he blocked me under the house!"
Tom's face twisted up into confusion. "I...I don't understand."
"I can't make it any simpler, Tom!" I screamed, letting unprofessionalism take root.
"I don't have a kid."
It hit me like an Ali right cross. My vision got dizzy, and I struggled to catch my breath. I stared at his face, looking for the sign of a lie or a joke, but he was as stone-faced as an Easter Island statue. After a beat, I found my sense again. "I heard you talking to him in the living room when I was under the house."
"One, I was on a phone call. Two, are you spying on me? What the hell, man?"
"I wasn't spying, and you weren't on the phone," I said. I also heard you talking to your wife. She asked you if she could show her face or something."
"I don't have a wife either."
I shook my head. "I fucking saw them in the backyard! They were staring at the fence!"
Tom paused and cocked his head to the side. When he spoke, it was softly, trying to calm me down. "Are you...did you have a few drinks before the appointment? Or a pill or something? No judging – I know pill heads. I won't report you or anything, but I understand if you need to come back tomorrow with a clearer head."
"I'm sober," I said, gritting my teeth. "But I know what I saw. What I heard."
"As the tree said to the lumberjack, I'm stumped," Tom said. "You look a little flush. You want a bottle of water or something? I can show you I'm here all alone."
My adrenaline had seeped out of my body, and I was starting to feel like myself again. I nodded at Tom, and he smiled. "I'll go grab you one. Do you want to come into the AC?"
"No, I'm okay. I need to double-check the connection to the pedestal."
"Sure. Be bright back," Tom said as he walked off.
But I had no intention of checking the connections. I was going to check on Tom. I didn't believe him at all. Something weird was going on, and I needed to know what. As soon as he turned the corner around the house, I broke out my flashlight and headed back to the crawlspace.
I dropped to the ground and shone my beam into the darkness. Something had crawled on me, and I wanted to see what it was. I moved my light into every section of the crawlspace but saw no eyes glowing back at me.
"If you're under there, call back."
There was nothing. I was starting to feel like a paranoid idiot. I called out once again just to be sure, but again, nothing called back. I shut off my light and sighed. I started pushing myself back to my feet when I heard a faint woman's voice call out, "Can we show our faces now?"
"Not yet," someone hissed from the trees above me. I snapped my head up, expecting to see someone hanging on a branch over my head, but I just saw green leaves.
"Can we show our faces now?" It was the Boy. It sounded like he was on the roof. I shielded my eyes and glanced at the roof but didn't see him.
"No. He's not ready yet," someone whispered in my ear. I snapped around, throwing a punch as I did, only to slam my fist into the fence. I felt one of my knuckles crack as it hit the wood, and the pain shot up my arm like lightning. Within seconds, my hand started to puff up, and blood dripped out the wounds.
The Boy chuckled again. It came from under the house. I looked down at the grate and saw his legs disappear into the darkness.
"Hey!" I called and dropped to the ground. I pulled out my flashlight and shone into the darkness again. I was confident I'd see him, but he wasn't there. Nobody was.
I sat up and felt goosebumps turn my arms into braille. I glanced over to the corner of the house and was surprised to see the disappearing hemline of the faded blue dress. I rushed over to the corner and didn't see the Woman. I saw Tom with a bottle of water.
"You okay?"
"Where did that woman go?" I asked, my voice panicking. "She was just here."
"Sir, do you need me to call your boss for you? You're starting to scare me."
"What's up with this house? Is it haunted?"
Tom started laughing. "I hope not. I just moved in. I'd hate to have roommates again, especially ones who leave ectoplasm all over the place."
As I stared at him, I saw the Woman and the Boy emerge from the other corner of the house. They looked up on the roof, their faces obscured by their hands and the sun. I pointed a finger at them and screamed, "They're right there!"
Tom spun around and looked, but there wasn't anything there. He turned back to me, not sure what to say. Instead, he handed me the bottle of water. "I gotta be honest. I didn't see anything. Drink the water...you might have heat stroke."
I threw the bottle on the ground. "I don't have fucking heat stroke. I have a man that's lying about these things." I got close to him. "What did you have planned for me? Why do they keep asking to show their faces?"
"I don't," he said, but I didn't stay to hear him finish his thought. I walked right past him and turned the corner of the house. As I did, I saw the blue hem disappear through the door that led to the kitchen. I followed right behind her.
I walked into the house, which was as silent as a corpse. The Woman and Boy were nowhere to be seen. "Hello?" I called out. "I just saw you guys walk in here. Where are you?"
The door behind me opened up. Tom walked in, his face reddening with anger. "You can't just walk into my house."
"I saw them walk in. Where are they?"
"I keep telling you, it's just me and you here. Now, if you want to finish your work…."
I walked away from him and headed toward the bedroom where I had seen the Boy standing. I wanted to check that crawl space. The room was empty, not even a moving box in there, so finding the hatch that led under the house was easy. I went into the closet and pried the hatch open.
Tom entered the room behind me, more confused now than angry. "I don't want a line run through here."
"The Boy was standing in this spot. I saw his legs. I spoke to him. He told me the shadows needed me for something." I glared down into the darkness under the house. Despite Tom's feigned declarations that there wasn't another person in the house, I knew he wasn't being honest.
"Okay, I'm pretty sure you're back on pills and in the middle of a delusion," he said.
"How did you know I had a pill addiction?"
"The way you're acting, it wasn't a hard guess."
"I'm sober, but I did have a problem with pills. I never told you. I don't tell anyone."
Tom stood there, confused about how to answer. I stood up and stared him down. He looked away, but I didn't move my gaze. "Who are you? Who put you up to this? Was it Rory? He trying to get me fired?"
Tom's shoulders sagged. "You got me," he said. "Rory hired me to get you in trouble. I'm... I'm sorry. He offered me free cable for a year and assured me you were a bad guy and, well…. I'm weak."
"That's really fuc…," I stopped. "You're lying. Right now. You're lying. Why?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something dash past the open crawlspace hatch. I turned to the hatch opening and then back to Tom.
"Are you trying to stop me from looking in there?"
He didn't respond.
"What's under there?"
"He is," he said. "The Boy. He hides under there all the time. He has...friends down there."
"The shadow people?"
Tom shrugged, "What he calls them. I call them a menace. Impossible to get my work done with them causing a racket."
"What work?"
"Things you'd never understand in a million years," he said, "Things beyond your brain's capacity to imagine. Things that will help usher in a new world. Your kind's time is coming to a close. My work represents the new order."
I stared at him. I wasn't sure if I should run away or punch his lights out. Instead, I just spat out, "Bro, what the fuck?"
"Can we show our faces now?" the Boy called out from under the house.
I looked down at the hatch and then back at Tom. He nodded toward the opening. "Do you want to see your future?"
"Fuck it," I said. I got down, grabbed the sides of the opening, and lowered my head under the house.
I kept my eyes closed for a second, assuming I'd either see something horrifying or something would hit me in the face. When nothing struck me, I opened my eyes. It was dark, and I couldn't make out anything.
"There's nothing under here," I said.
"Can we show our faces now?" said the Boy from somewhere under the house.
"Show him," Tom said.
I sat back up, grabbed my flashlight from my pocket, and flipped it on. I looked at Tom, "If you try anything, so help me, God."
Tom just smiled. I looked back down at the hatch and sighed. I was suddenly hit with a bolt of common sense. What was I doing? My internal alarms were going off and I was ignoring them. Curiosity had gotten me this far, but my fight instincts were starting to lose to my flight. No job was worth this.
"Man, fuck this," I said, reversing course and standing. I turned to confront Tom, but he was gone. I hadn't heard him leave, but there wasn't a trace of him there. "Tom? Where the hell are you?"
He didn't respond, and I decided that I had hit my "weird shit" quota for the day. I closed the closet door and headed back into the living room to grab my gear. I'd call dispatch and tell them someone else had to come out and finish the….
The wood floor cracked, splintered, and gave way when I put my weight on it. I fell through the floor and landed with a thud on the dirt in the crawl space. On the way down, I hit my ribs on a crossbeam and heard them crack and knock the wind out of me. As I lay on the dirt, writhing in pain, my lungs did their damnedest to find a breath. It couldn't, and my vision started to blur at the edges. For a fleeting few seconds, I envisioned my death on a dirty crawlspace floor. It wasn’t comforting.
I rolled onto my back and finally took in a massive gulp of life-saving air. The blurring vision subsided, and all that remained was the aching pain of a busted rib. My muscles around my rib cage spasmed and pulled tight against my lungs. After the initial big breath, I could only take shallow gulps because the pain was searing.
I lay there for a few seconds, collecting my thoughts, when I felt something skitter across my legs again. I kicked out of instinct but didn't hit anything. Instead, I heard the chuckling again. My flashlight had fallen out of my hand. I found it and turned it on.
This time, I did see something. Pairs of eyes—dozens of them—watched me from the darkness that surrounded me. These weren't possums or rats. I never hoped to find a raccoon under the house more than I did at that moment. I knew whatever these things were, they weren't natural and they wanted to harm me.
"Still want to know what they plan to do to you?" the Boy asked from behind me.
I turned around and shone the light where I heard the voice. The Boy was lying on his stomach, his face looking down at the ground. All I could see at the moment was the top of his head.
"Wha-what's going on?" I said, the light bouncing from my trembling hand.
"I can show you my face now," he said. He raised his head and….
The Boy didn't have a face.
He had the space for a face, but there were no features whatsoever—nothing but pale pink skin pulled tight across the front of his head. At that moment, the image of a wooden art figure came to me.
“What the ever-loving fuck?"
"Want to see something really scary?" the Boy said, his lack of a mouth not stopping him from speaking. He raised himself onto the tips of his fingers and toes and started skittering toward me, laughing as he did.
I clambered out of the crawlspace as fast as my battered body could carry me. I got out of the hole and onto my feet and let out an ear-splitting scream.
The Woman in the blue dress was standing next to the hole in the floor. Like the Boy, she didn't have a face either. But I could feel her eyes on me. Looking into my mind. Into my soul. She stepped toward me, and I bolted for the front door.
I whipped it open and was greeted by Tom standing there, blocking me. He grinned. "Leaving so soon?"
"What the hell is going on?" I asked, checking behind me to see if the Woman was still coming toward me. She was, and she was gaining quickly.
"Can we show our faces now?" he asked with a laugh.
I turned back to Tom and nearly had a heart attack. His face was gone. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. My legs were jelly, but I kept myself propped up. The human desire to survive can perform miracles.
Tom reached out and pointed at a spot on the far side of the living room wall. I turned and saw three skinned human faces hanging from old nails: a man, a woman, and a boy.
"You're turn to join us," Tom whispered. But the voice wasn't said out loud. It came from inside my own head. "We can always use another body around here."
My brain clicked into action and sent an all-points bulletin to my limbs. The message was simple and actionable – "Get the fuck going, you dope."
I felt my hand ball into a fist and spun. It landed where Tom's nose would've been. It should've knocked him back, causing him to stumble and giving me time to run. But that didn't happen. Instead, his face pulled apart, letting my fist slide right through. It closed on my arm, trapping me.
I yanked and yanked, but my arm would not dislodge from his face. I glanced back and saw the Woman nearly next to me. The Boy was climbing out of the hole, moving like a cockroach. I looked back at the wall and saw Tom's hanging face silently laughing.
Something about those silent laughs cut me to my core. They were laughing because Tom thought he had outsmarted me. He had beat me. That my face would soon be hanging on the wall next to theirs. I wasn't going to let that happen.
I saw a loose brick on the walkway, and a plan flashed in my mind. I yanked hard, sending Tom stuttering forward enough for me to wrap my finger around the brick. I brought it up and sent it towards his face. As expected, the face parted again, and the brick flew through easily.
But as soon as the face curtains pulled aside, I yanked my arm free. With my limb free, I took off in a mad sprint for my truck. I got inside and fumbled my keys as I tried to start the engine. Tom, the Woman, and the Boy stood together at the front door and watched as I got the van going and rocketed down the street.
I drove like a madman for ten minutes, trying to put as much space between me and the house as possible. I finally stopped at a gas station to collect my thoughts. I was jittery, and my mind was swimming, but I was also relieved. I had gotten out.
I collected myself and called Denise to tell her I couldn't finish the installation at 981 Maple Street. I was going to suggest we cancel the order and not send another installer there. That's when the conversation took a turn I wasn't expecting.
"Where have you been? You were supposed to be off an hour ago," Denise said when I called her.
"I was trying to finish the install at 981 Maple, the one you sent me to."
"I didn't send you anywhere," she said. "With how insane Rory is being about overtime hours, I'm trying to keep everyone below the threshold."
"What are you talking about? You called and asked me. You don't remember," I said, a bad feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
She gave me a nervous chuckle, "I swear I didn't. Are you feeling okay? You gotta come back. People are waiting for the van."
"I can prove it. I have a record of you calling me on my phone," I said. I opened my call log, and my jaw dropped. There was no call from Denise. She was telling me the truth. But if she didn't call me, who did?
"Rory wants to talk to you when you get in. I wouldn't mess around, he seems pissed" she said before hanging up.
I haven't moved since. I wanted to write this down because I felt like it needed to be recorded. Something supremely fucked up is happening at 981 Maple Street. It nearly got me. It still might. To think, on any other typical day, a surprise conversation with my boss would be the scariest thing that could happen to me. Funny how seeing a faceless ghoul can prioritize your problems. If you're hired to do work there, turn it down. Trust me, it's not worth it.
"Can we show our faces now?" they asked. "Fuck no," should be the only response.