Hearing a Canadian or a British person complain about their imperfect health service and problems with wait times, lack of beds, lack of staffing, refusal of treatment as an American. And you’re like wow. I have to deal with all of that and pay thousands and thousands of dollars for it. Anti-socialized medicine think medicine where the patient is paying will be more patient focused but that is so far from the truth. You can pay $4000 to stay in the psych ward for less than 18 hours and the nurses will still ignore you the entire time.
i feel like we dont talk enough about how distressing and disturbing memory loss issues are. forgetting what you were talking about halfway through a sentence, putting something down and instantly forgetting where you put it. having to reread one paragraph over and over again because by the time youve moved onto the next sentence you dont remember what the one before it said. always doubting if your memories of things are real, not being able to remember important life events.
its so incredibly scary, it feels like your mind is constantly playing tricks on you and you start to doubt whats real and what isnt.
“i forgot” is treated like a lazy excuse when it’s genuinely such a big issue for so many people.
it obviously makes sense, but one of my friend’s kids is going into swim class, and all the parents got an email today going, “when little ones are scared, they cling on to instructors. PLEASE trim their nails.”
i don’t know why that’s so funny to me, but just. the idea of this poor, scratched swim instructor having to make sure to email before each class as a reminder to please declaw the children SENT me.
When I taught swim lessons I remember trying to delicately ask parents not to cover their child in shea/coconut/olive oil before lessons.
“I understand your skincare regimen and wanting to protect their tender baby flesh from the pool chemicals, but COULD YOU NOT OIL YOUR CHILD LIKE A GREASED PIG before tossing them in the POOL? Thanks EVER so much!”
sickened-things
informed consent for medication needs to include interactions with common recreational drugs, i think
most meds these days will only tell you 'limit alcohol' and wont even make a mention of weed (though if this is different in places that have legalised it i'd be interested to know). and they never tell you specifically why you should limit alcohol and thats something everyone should have the right to know
because i was terrified as a teen getting on the meds im on now, thinking i would never be able to drink and that i had to forgo taking my meds for the day if i did. then i learned that all my meds did was to increase the effects of alcohol and that the 'limit alcohol' warning in that case was more just a 'you will get drunk faster than you are used to'
but in other cases, such as with some antibiotics, the 'limit alcohol' means 'if you drink more than a little, this medication will stop working'
and some meds are actively dangerous when taken with alcohol/other drugs, putting you at risk of getting very sick or just dead
but every single time all you get is that little label saying 'limit alcohol'
anyway, i will once again shamelessly promote my favourite harm reduction website in the whole world, the drugs.com interactions checker. standard boilerplate applies that 'this isnt a substitute for medical advice from a professional' but its sure as fuck better than nothing
So we've been having a bit of a debate in the office because we wanted to do the headline "Local man gives up sugar for 12 minutes" but then overdoing the "local man" trope is a bit male-centric, so we considered "Local woman" but then that sounds like we're typecasting women so that wasn't great either, but I think we've finally found a worthy compromise:
almost peed my pants today when my bf told me about this dude in his hometown who dressed up like ryan gosling in Drive every day (including driving gloves) but did not own a car. bf was like “yeah we called him Walk”
*bass drop* w-w-w-whats good lactation nation its your girl dj cowtits bringing you the sloshiest beats
Apparently if you find a tagged Horseshoe crab and report it to Fish and Wildlife they’ll send you a certificate with info about your crab AND a pewter horseshoe crab pin! Keep your eyes peeled 👀
Good news! Getting a good grade in crab is normal to want and possible to achieve!
I just had. An experience.
So a woman comes in to my work and asks to use the bathroom. Okay, normal. She happens to be a beautiful woman—not my type, but, you know, classically beautiful in the way that makes you a little bashful to talk to anyway.
She comes out a little bit later to say that the soap dispenser is empty. She’s holding her hands up—purple nail polish—clearly distressed by her exposure to filth and unwilling to touch anything until that can be fixed. I am nothing if not eager to help (knight complex) (beautiful) (purple nail polish) so I leap up and run to the supply room for the refill bottle.
I wedge the bathroom door open, you know, for her comfort, she’s standing there (beautiful) watching me, I’m silently pretending that she must be secretly impressed by my ring of keys (like the song), I’ve got a bit of a swagger on maybe (purple nail polish). I open the soap dispenser expecting an empty canister. It doesn’t look empty. I stick my fingers in (looks can be deceiving) and it’s completely full, freshly refilled, now I’m suddenly aware that she’s still watching me over my shoulder and I’m sticking my fingers into a hole (purple nail polish) and ha-ha-ha, it’s only a little suggestive with the soap, forget about it.
I struggle with the soap dispenser, she’s still watching me, I realize that whoever filled it last didn’t prime it. “I have to prime it,” I say, for some reason I have to explain out loud (beautiful).
I reach for the, uh, tube at the bottom. It hangs down about four inches. It’s rubbery. Yielding. But, uh, firm. I have to. Squeeze it. Repeatedly. She’s watching me still. Soap is leaking out of the release valve on the cap and onto my hands. Still no soap is coming out.
There’s probably congealed soap near the tip blocking the opening, I realize, and try to covertly squeeze it to check. Like. An udder. I’m massaging it (purple nail polish) and she’s still watching me. I glance up in the mirror. Her expression behind me is unreadable. Her eyes are fixed on the little rubber phallus I am stroking. I’m sweating.
“I have to…” I begin. I panic. I don’t know how to finish my sentence. I can’t say anything that can be construed as sexual. “…Milk it,” I say. A mistake. Now it somehow sounds more sexual than if I had said “jack it off”. I could have played that as a roguish joke. Milk it doesn’t sound roguish, it sounds creepy. The clogged soap comes free. White translucent liquid soap spurts all over my hands. There is a terrible sound accompanying it. She says “eugh!” over my shoulder. I try to rinse my hands and the soap container off with water before putting it away but soap just keeps leaking out, it’s everywhere. Why does it have to be white? Why does it have to be this consistency? Why is the suspensor tube shaped… like that (couldn’t it be just a little bit bigger if it had to be shaped Like That?) Why did she have to stand there watching me?
From here on out I’m just buying fucking pump bottles for the bathroom. Jesus fucking Christ.
I just.
You know.
I mean really look at it. I had it braced against my body because it was so slippery so like. Experience this horror with me in my shoes.
Important addition: OP deactivated the day after posting this.
it’s so sad what happened to them. a damn shame.
princess peach at the sperm bank
nothing could have prepared me for that comment
Truly animals are some of the most numerous creatures of earth
Count em
Well first of all there's this guy
Nothing wrong with me
This is literally my favorite tweet of all time. It’s so powerful.
She Freaken Forgor Me
