mom update: she had a TIA (TIS???? idr the acronym), which is like a small stroke I guess. i just talked to my dad and he said the doctors expect she could make a full recovery, but even if she gets her blood pressure down and goes to physical therapy it will take like a year at least. my dad said she was having more trouble getting around and talking today than she was yesterday, but that her doctors tell him it’s normal for her condition to kind of seesaw like that.

and they took her out of icu last night and are manually checking her bp every hour instead of keeping her on a machine that does it, so that’s good. apparently her bp is still high, but waaaaay lower than it was.


i am tentatively relieved even though this is still fucking horrifying??????

I recounted that story about Colin Baker being abandoned in the woods while tied to a poll to my dad today over the phone, and I ended by remarking that Colin was probably very nice about it afterwards because he’s such a sweetie, and that if they’d done something like that to TOM Baker, he would have torn everyone a new asshole.

And my dad replied “If they’d done something like that to Tom Baker, it wouldn’t have been an accident.”

“it was a cold thursday night, i just got out from work and decided to stop by the local pawn shop. i went in and looked through the bargain bin… all these games i already owned… games i dont even care about… ‘final fantasy 9? i didnt even play the first 8! but then

i saw a game that i wish i never laid eyes on… it was a copy of pong.. for the nintendo NES… 'what the FUCK!’ i yelled, immediately buying it… i had to know what this was… the pawn shop cashier told me 'you shouldnt buy that creepy game,’ but i told him to fuck a sock

as if id listen to some fucking asshole who works at a pawn shop. my dads a doctor. anyhow, i took the game home and booted up my (seemingly

unhaunted) NES. i then put my copy of PONG for the NES in. i realized after that NES don’t work that way, usually you need to put the game in first. 'whatever.. my dads a fucking doctor’ i muttered to myself, slowly taking off my pants and putting on my Gaming Diaper™ so i wouldnt need to get up for 12 hours or more. i booted up the pong game (im not sure if i mentioned that yet) but the game didnt work

at first. instead, there was a scary face of a scary man at the screen. he whispered to me 'you dont need those teeth you fucking asshole’ did i mention i was using a japanese famicom and not an actual NES?? i screamed into my microphone "SUCK AN EGG, MY DADS A FUCKING DOCTOR!”

then the pong paddle came out and spanked my ass, while kefkas laugh played and the “snowman” song from earthbound played in reverse “

My dad loves riding motorbikes. He loves fixing up cars and being outside. He’s so strong and he’s invincible. He’s amazing, I idol him.

In the November of 2013, my dad went to the doctors bc he had a really bad cough.

He came home, he sighed, he said that it doesn’t look good. There’s something on the scan he has never seen before. There’s a drop in his voice, he’s scared. My mum tells him he’s over exaggerating.

I whisper, what if it’s not

He goes back to the doctors, and they tell him he has cancer. Everyone in my household stops breathing properly for a few seconds.

They tell us it’s cureable, we are so reliant on this. My mum cries, and my dad gets mad. He starts his first round of chemo.

I tell people what’s happening and they give sympathy. I just get mad.

Dad loses all of the strength in his muscles and some days it’s too hard for him to get up from his bed. Mum gets mad at him for being lazy.

Dad’s family occasionally gets involved showing their support; it doesn’t make a difference.

It’s really hard talking to friends about dad, none of them understand. They say ‘he’ll be fine’. Will he?

Dad had an operation for them to take some of the cancer, he took a selfie before he went into theatre. We laugh a lot about this. I love my dad.

Christmas is really hard, there’s no joy and mum is stressed and drinks more than usual. Dad doesn’t drink anything, he can’t; he’s mad.

Dad is in and out of hospital. He goes in, because he has a lung infection. We spend a lot of time there. By the end of that month, I knew every part of the hospital.

He goes in again with another infection. We visit him sometimes, still making jokes. He’s exhausted.

Dad gets mad a lot. I don’t know why. He snaps at us.

The stress is getting too much for mum; they argue so much. It’s really hard for us kids. We put on fake smiles, only talk when we are asked, we start lying to mum bc if she knew what we were doing she’d freak out.

I wish on stars that dad will get better.

Mum doesn’t sleep anymore at night and dad can’t work.

The doctor tells dad he needs to go for more chemo.

Dad makes friends with the people at the chemo sessions. He snaps at us, we don’t talk much to him. We act like nothing is happening.

I cry, I don’t want dad to go through this. I want my family to be ordinary.

I ask dad if he should get in contact with his other kids to tell them they might have the gene. He doesn’t say anything, he disappears and he cries.

I cry a lot, sometimes for no reason. I notice my sisters do too.

Dad has to take heaps of pills and sometimes he forgets his anti-depressants and he yells at us. Mum cries.

My sister was diagnosed with depression and we found she wanted to kill herself. Being at home sucks.

Christmas isn’t the same; no family event is.

For New Years we get drunk, dad recommends us drinks. He tells me stories about his youth. I laugh, my dad is so fucking cool.

Dad finishes his chemo round and after months of waiting, they tell us that there’s another growth. They take another sample.

He does rounds of chemo, he loses his hair. He has to wear beanies. At least we are beanie buddies now.

I have a boyfriend now, and I spend more time out of the house than with my family. I hardly know what’s going on; only catching snippets of their conversations.

They tell him he has to have a stem cell transplant and he will be in hospital for up to a month. This causes a lot of stress on my mum.

My younger sister doesn’t go to school, and my big sister just broke up with her boyfriend. Why can’t we all be happy.

We haven’t done any family events since dad was diagnosed.

We spend a lot of time at Sandra’s and she makes us food.

Dad has intense rounds of chemo and throws up in the bathroom. He makes jokes saying he’s bulimic and goes back to bed.

Dad no longer has the strength to hold up his motorbike.

I love my dad so much, he’s my idol.

At Christmas my dad walks off and we try to track him down but we can’t find him.

I skipped heaps of days off school to see dad in hospital after his stem cell transplant. I loved seeing dad. We did hangman on his information board. He loved it. I love him.

Dad’s friend from chemo is in here and dad asks about him a lot.

Dad gets out of hospital, and they tell him he can basically do nothing.

At the Easter lunch my dad yelled at my nan and he walked off. I miss dad.

He rebuilds his motorbike, and one day he was teaching me how to drive my car and I crashed.

He sold his motorbike.

He goes to the doctors hopeful, that everything will be fine; they aren’t.

He cries, he’s devastated.

I tell people that dad has two new growths, but I don’t wait for their reply. I cut them off I don’t want sympathy.

He starts chemo again soon.

They tell us it’s terminal, I want to make my dad proud.

—  I wrote this down quickly before school

Just wanted to give you an update.

My dad is still fighting. The doctors are concerned that he has what would be considered “shaken baby syndrome”, the spinal column at the base of his neck, head is severely swollen. Until the swelling goes down they will not know anything for sure. This is caused by a whiplash motion of being jerk stopped upon impact.

Due to the fact that he remembers certain things, catch phrases, and faces they remain hopeful this is only a concussion.

He has been insistent on calling someone to let them know he is alright, but when questioned who, he says he can’t remember.

Beyond the head injury, he was pretty lucky. He received some bruising to his chest, where he impacted the steering wheel. The airbags deployed but where not enough to stop his foward motion.

He has a bruised rib, and one broken one, along with some superficial cuts at his knees.

He has shown a lot of improvement today, so please keep him in your prayers again.

I ask that you please don’t blog this.



My cardiologist is incredibly hot. He was talking to me and writing shit down and the whole my brain was going ohymgod he’s hot look holyfuckinshit. I just hope I wasn’t being too obvious. I was just looking at him. Why am I so weird. But ohmygod he’s such a cool dude and he’s so adorable. And he’s tall, he has blue eyes and beautiful brown hair. He was listening to my heart, fully concentrating and his hair was so close to my face and I was like ohmyfuckingod his hair is so beautiful. I was trying really really hard to maintain my chill but jesuschrist he was so cute and funny and hot. Tom the hot doctor

My dad just sent me a text message asking me where I was, I think he just noticed I was gone. Last time this happened was when I had a blood test scheduled and I’m super duper scared of needles so I hid in my best friend’s house for two weeks and he didn’t even notice until the doctor called him up, it was super funny but then my dad noticed I was gone and got super scared and that wasn’t funny at all, so he made my brother take me to get the blood test but my brother thought he was giving me it, so he stole a needle and stuck it in my leg but it hurt so bad and I tried to get away and he ended up cutting me so badly that I had to get stitches. 

25279) I recently went to the doctor because I was really sick (unrelated to ed) and I felt awful but I dreaded the appointment because I didn’t want to step on the scale. My dad always takes me to doctor appointments and every time they weigh me I feel like he is judging me on the number. I don’t want to go to the doctor to get better for anything because I’m too damn afraid of the number on the scale. Every time I go it triggers me and I restrict even more.


The mad man, the Doctor as he called himself, stared dolefully at the small blue box. “It’s stuck here–the Tardis. In this world. I don’t know how I’ll get it working again.”

Edmund bit his lip. He’d read about such theories back in his world. He never thought it was ever possible.
“I’ll help,” he said quietly. “For a price. You take me with you. One trip.”

The Doctor smiled. “Where to?”

“England, year 1940,” he said. “Or wherever James Pevensie is. Just…let me see him.”

The man furrowed his brows. “Why then?”

“I just want to see my dad again.”

The Doctor’s smile seemed to falter. “World War II?” He shook his head and his smile returned. “Well, help me fix this up, and you’ll see your dad again. I promise.”

(First two gifs from unknown source; last gif from justaroundthe-riverbend)