pigeon shapes!
"How can platonic BDSM be a thing". It's whatever Sam Reich is doing to his friends on Game Changer actually.
I originally took Basil the coydog in as a foster when his owners moved to an urban apartment in Seattle.
I couldn’t touch him at all for the first few days. We operated on a hands-off basis using a slip lead to get from his kennel, out to potty, and then into the outdoor pen to play with Zephyr. When inside the house, I left drag line on him so I could move him around without contact, but during that time, it was very clear that he was always watching and assessing, trying to figure out who I was and why he was here and how I’d react to him setting a boundary.
On the third day, I was in the outdoor pen with him and Zephyr, working with her on some training and ignoring him, when he came up to me and offered a “sit”, all on his own, the tip of his tail wagging and a look in his eye that told me he’d figured out the game and was ready to play.
On the fourth day, I was tussling with Zephyr and suddenly there was a second dog bumping against my knees and swinging his butt over to ask for attention. He was cautious and would occasionally pause and draw away, at which point I would stop petting him, and after a moment of consideration, he’d lean back in for more attention.
Two years later, Basil is my most reliable dog off leash. He loves to play games such as throwing himself into my arms at top speed so I can shake him around a bit and then toss him away so he can zoom around and jump into my arms again. He’s over most of his car anxiety for travel. He knows countless tricks and cues. During winter, he burrows under the blankets and grumbles and grouches if he’s disturbed, but once I get settled he tucks right up against me and is the best cuddler.
He’s painfully shy of strangers, but underneath it, there’s a deep desire to engage with people and make friends if they’ll give him the time to work through his initial uncertainty. With the company of one of his dog friends for support, a patient stranger can have him standing in their lap giving kisses to their face and presenting his thighs for scratches within ten minutes.
His incredible love for his dog housemates and new canine friends is tempered only by his awkwardly possessive nature — as much as he adores them, he’ll posture and threat gape and act like a big tough guy ready to throw down over a particularly smelly dirty sock.
just learned about something incredibly wonderful
cosmoses, morning glow
In this world of everything costing too many dollars, the colourful bits of stiff paper at the hardware store are an exciting novelty.
chicken butt
me holding a gun to a mushroom: tell me the name of god you fungal piece of shit
mushroom: can you feel your heart burning? can you feel the struggle within? the fear within me is beyond anything your soul can make. you cannot kill me in a way that matters
me cocking the gun, tears streaming down my face: I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU
The worst thing you've worried about, going on hikes, happens. This happens often, in the grand scheme of things. It's always joggers and dogwalkers and hikers. My unlucky day came on October 24, 2022.
Look in the other direction and take a breath. Panic wont help you or them.
If you are comfortable, approach them and try to help. If not, it's okay. I was unwilling to approach (they looked real dead) and my 911 operator was 100% totally supportive and okay with that.
Walk a little ways away. There is no reason why you need to keep staring at them. It's okay. Seeing a dead person is really wack!
When you've caught your breath, call 911. My first thought was "Oh god, I don't want to talk to cops." and, good news, it's not cops! 911 responders are different people. They are trained to talk to you, to reassure you, and to help you. They are there for you. They understand you are freaking out. They are kind and patient.
Your new buddy, the 911 person, will help you figure out where you are, exactly. They have access to your location via cell-tower and GPS, but if, like me, you were off-trail (oops), they might need your help navigating to you. I offered to also send a photo, and he provided an email, which he received immediately. I deleted the photo I took right away.
Hang out on the phone with your dispatch friend. They're going to want to keep in touch with you as the paramedics approach. Are you freaking out by chattering too much? Are you freaking out by being dead silent? Both are okay! Apparently, my panic response is to become Super Midwestern Chatty. I was able to make him laugh, which I count as a win.
Holler to the paramedics. My paramedics came deep into the ravine-filled woods, about six men, steering a rolling bed thing. We shouted at each other until they made it to the body. It would have been funny, watching them fumble along, if it wasn't so serious.
Get out of there! The paramedics don't need anything from you. They're busy doing their job. They shooed me back to the trail and to the parking lot. I didn't have to go anywhere near the body.
Meet cops in the parking lot. In my situation, the cops didn't want anything from me. They were just picking their noses in the parking lot while the paramedics did the real work. The cops said thanks for helping, while covering their bodycams, because they're pigs.
Go eat donuts. Christ, that was a lot. Let yourself comedown and get some sugar to kickstart your system.
Feel good that you gave a family closure. Yeah, that sucked. Yeah, your therapist is going to hear about this. Yeah, next time you come to this location, you're going to need a friend with you. But you did the right thing. You'll never know their family, but know that you gave them closure.
Tablets sink and capsules float. Separate out your tablets and capsules when you go to take them. Tip your head down when taking capsules and up when taking tablets. Liquigels don't matter, they kinda stay in the middle of whatever liquid is in your mouth.
If your pill tastes bad, coat it with a bit of butter or margarine. I learned this from my mom, who learned it from a pharmacist.
Being in pain every day isn't normal. Average people experience pain during exceptional moments, like when they stub their toe or jam their finger in a door, not when they sit cross-legged.
Make a medical binder. Make multiple medical binders. I have a small one that comes with me to appointments and two big ones that stay at home, one with old stuff and one with more recent stuff.
Find your icons. Some of mine include Daya Betty (drag queen with diabetes), Stef Sanjati (influencer with Waardenburg syndrome and ADHD), and Hank Green (guy with ulcerative colitis who... does a bunch of stuff). They don't have to be disabled in the same way as you. They don't even have to be real people. Put their pictures up somewhere if you want; I've been meaning to decorate my medical binders with pictures of my icons.
Take a bin, box, bag, basket, whatever and fill it with items to cope with. This can be stuff for mentally coping like colouring books or play clay or stuff for physically coping like pain medicine or physio tape.
Decorate your shit! My cane for at home has a plushie backpack clip hanging from the end of the handle and my cane for going places is covered in stickers. All of my medical binders have fun scrapbooking paper on the outside. Sometimes, I put stickers and washi tape on my inhalers and pill bottles. I used my Cricut to decorate my coping bin with quotes from my icons, like "I've seen enough of Ba Sing Se" and "I need you to be angrier with that bell".
If a flare-up is making you unable to eat or keep food down, consider going to the ER. A pharmacist once told me that since my eye flares can make me so nauseous that I cannot eat, then I need to go to the hospital when that happens.
Cola works wonders for nausea. I have mini cans of Diet Pepsi in my coping bin.
Shortbread is one of the only things I can eat when nauseous. Giant Tiger sells individually-wrapped servings of shortbread around Christmas or the British import store sells them year-round. I also keep these in my coping bin.
Unless it violates a pain contract or something, don't be afraid to go behind your doctor's back to get something they are refusing you. I got my cardiologist referral by getting in with a different NP at my primary care clinic than who I usually saw. I switched from Seroquel to Abilify by visiting a walk-in.
If you have a condition affecting your abdomen in some way (GI issues, reproductive problems, y'know) then invest in track pants that are too big. I bought some for my laparoscopy over a year ago and they've been handy for pelvic pain days, too. I've also heard loose pants are good for after colonoscopies.
Do whatever works, even if it's weird. I've sat on the floor of the Eaton Centre to take my pills. I've shoved heating pads down my front waistband to reach my uterus.
High-top Converse are good for weak ankles. I almost exclusively wear them.
You can reuse your pill bottles for stuff. I use my jumbo ones to store makeup sponges and my long skinny ones to hold a travel-size amount of Q-Tips.
Just because your diagnostics come back with nothing, it doesn't mean nothing is wrong. Maybe you were checking the wrong thing, or the diagnostic tool wasn't sensitive enough. I have bradycardia episodes even though multiple cardiac tests caught nothing. I probably have endometriosis even though my gynecologist didn't see anything.
You can bring your comfort item to appointments, and it's generally a green flag when someone talks to you about it. I brought a Squishmallow turkey (named Ulana) to my laparoscopy and they had her wearing my mask when I woke up. I brought a Build-A-Bear cat (named Blinx) to another procedure and a nurse told me that everyone in the hall on the way to the procedure room saw him and were talking about how cute he was. Both of those ended up being positive experiences and every person who talked to me about my plushies was nice to me. If you don't feel comfortable having it visible to your provider during the appointment, you can hide it in your bag and just know it's there, or if you're in a video appointment, you can hold it below frame in your lap.
Get a small bucket, fill it with stuff, and stick it in your bed (if you have room for it). I filled a bucket with Ensure, juice boxes, oatmeal bars, lotion, my rescue inhaler, etc. in October 2023 in anticipation of my laparoscopy and I still have it in my bed as of January 2025.
If your disability impacts your impulse control (e.g. ADHD, bipolar disorder), you should consider setting limits around your spending -- no more than X dollars at a time, nothing online unless it's absolutely necessary, and so on. Or, run these purchases by someone you trust before committing to them; I use my BFF groupchat to help talk sense into myself when I buy stuff.
Feel free to add on what you've learned about disability!
Wren: Sickly human Riot Auf Der Marquis: SDIT Lachlan: Perfect boy (retired)
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