Injections Emojis & Text

Procedural Pain Management Vaccinations are the most common source of procedural pain for healthy children and can be a stressful experience for persons of any age. It has been estimated that up to 25% of adults have a fear of needles, with most needle fears developing during childhood. If not addressed, these fears can have long-term effects such as preprocedural anxiety. Inject Vaccines Rapidly Without Aspiration Aspiration is not recommended before administering a vaccine. Aspiration prior to injection and injecting medication slowly are practices that have not been evaluated scientifically. Aspiration was originally recommended for theoretical safety reasons and injecting medication slowly was thought to decrease pain from sudden distention of muscle tissue. Aspiration can increase pain because of the combined effects of a longer needle-dwelling time in the tissues and shearing action (wiggling) of the needle. There are no reports of any person being injured because of failure to aspirate. The veins and arteries within reach of a needle in the anatomic areas recommended for vaccination are too small to allow an intravenous push of vaccine without blowing out the vessel. A 2007 study from Canada compared infants’ pain response using slow injection, aspiration, and slow withdrawal with another group using rapid injection, no aspiration, and rapid withdrawal. Based on behavioral and visual pain scales, the group that received the vaccine rapidly without aspiration experienced less pain. No immediate adverse events were reported with either injection technique. Inject Vaccines that Cause the Most Pain Last Many persons receive two or more injections at the same clinical visit. Some vaccines cause more pain than others during the injection. Because pain can increase with each injection, the order in which vaccines are injected matters. Some vaccines cause a painful or stinging sensation when injected; examples include measles, mumps, and rubella; pneumococcal conjugate; and human papillomavirus vaccines. Injecting the most painful vaccine last when multiple injections are being administered can decrease the pain associated with the injections. Pain Relievers Topical anesthetics block transmission of pain signals from the skin. They decrease the pain as the needle penetrates the skin and reduce the underlying muscle spasm, particularly when more than one injection is administered. These products should be used only for the ages recommended and as directed by the manufacturer. Because using topical anesthetics may require additional time, some planning by the healthcare provider and parent may be needed. Topical anesthetics can be applied during the usual clinic waiting times, or before the patient arrives at the clinic provided parents and patients have been shown how to use them appropriately. There is no evidence that topical anesthetics have an adverse effect on the vaccine immune response. The prophylactic use of antipyretics (e.g., acetaminophen and ibuprofen) before or at the time of vaccination is not recommended. There is no evidence these will decrease the pain associated with an injection. In addition, some studies have suggested these medications might suppress the immune response to some vaccine antigens. Follow Age-Appropriate Positioning Best Practices For both children and adults, the best position and type of comforting technique should be determined by considering the patient’s age, activity level, safety, comfort, and administration route and site. Parents play an important role when infants and children receive vaccines. Parent participation has been shown to increase a child’s comfort and reduce the child’s perception of pain. Holding infants during vaccination reduces acute distress. Skin-to-skin contact for infants up to age 1 month has been demonstrated to reduce acute distress during the procedure. A parent’s embrace during vaccination offers several benefits. A comforting hold: Avoids frightening children by embracing them rather than overpowering them Allows the health care professional steady control of the limb and the injection site Prevents children from moving their arms and legs during injections Encourages parents to nurture and comfort their child A combination of interventions, holding during the injection along with patting or rocking after the injection, is recommended for children up to age 3 years. Parents should understand proper positioning and holding for infants and young children. Parents should hold the child in a comfortable position, so that one or more limbs are exposed for injections. Research shows that children age 3 years or older are less fearful and experience less pain when receiving an injection if they are sitting up rather than lying down. The exact mechanism behind this phenomenon is unknown. It may be that the child’s anxiety level is reduced, which, in turn, reduces the child’s perception of pain. Tactile Stimulation Moderate tactile stimulation (rubbing or stroking the skin) near the injection site before and during the injection process may decrease pain in children age 4 years or older and in adults. The mechanism for this is thought to be that the sensation of touch competes with the feeling of pain from the injection and, thereby, results in less pain. Route and Site for Vaccination The recommended route and site for each vaccine are based on clinical trials, practical experience, and theoretical considerations. There are five routes used to administer vaccines. Deviation from the recommended route may reduce vaccine efficacy or increase local adverse reactions. Some vaccine doses are not valid if administered using the wrong route, and revaccination is recommended. Acknowledgements The editors would like to acknowledge Beth Hibbs and Andrew Kroger for their contributions to this chapter.

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༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ LOVING MEMORY ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻

vicenarian (20–29) tricenarian (30–39) quadragenarian (40–49) semicentenarian (50) quinquagenarian (50–59) sexagenarian (60–69) septuagenarian (70–79) octogenarian (80–89) nonagenarian (90–99) ultracentenarian (100+) centenary semisupercentenarian (105–109) supercentenarian (110+) supracentenarian centevicenarian ages 120-129 ↓ below are unreached ages of human people ↓ sesquicentenarian (150–159) bicentenarian (200–299) multicentenarian (200+) tricentenarian (300–399) quadricentenarian (400–499) quincentenarian (500–599)

My family Story by Pansyk I died eight years ago. It wasn’t particularly tragic. Or unusual. Just a car accident. I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wife was in labor, and there was black ice on the road. He lost control of the car and I lost my life. It's not his fault. I know that. I’m not cruel. I am not vengeful. If anything, I’m the opposite.. ↓Keep reading ↓ 31ST OCT 2020 u/Pansyk I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wi҉fé was in labour, and lost control of the car and I lost my lįfe. It's not his fault. I am not vengeful. I’m the opposite. You see, I don’t have any family left and I had lost my few friends around that time. When it was time for my funeral, the only people who came was my boss and the family of the man who kılled me. The wi҉fé held her newborn daughter Lily close to her. I hated my boss, and the cemetery was awfully lonely, so I followed the family home. Lily may as well have been my own flesh and bľood. She was sweet, and bright, and oh so very small. She had trouble sleeping if someone wasn’t rocking her crib and her parents were so tired. After they put her to bed, it was easy for me to rock her crib for her. I didn’t get tired. I could help her. As the years passed, Jack and Lori realised that they weren’t alone in the house. It didn’t take long from there to make a connection between my funeral and when I had showed up. And I’d never been malevolent, so they weren’t afraid or angry. They started to burn candles on the anniversary of my dEath day. They left an empty chair for meals and holidays. I really felt like… A member of the family. Someone is trying to force the door. Its Lori’s ex. He’s obsessive. He’s angry. He’s going to hur͘t the family. My family. The thing about ghosts, is that the more offerings you get, the stronger you become. Id been enjoying candles, trinkets, and even the occasional food item for the past five years. I was strong from that. The kn1fe feels warm in my hand. A shock of heat against the ice of my skin. Lori, Jack, and Lily are my family. I care about them. And they’re not gonna join me yet.

https://www.wordexample.com/list/words-suffix-cide Foeticide, of a fetus Neonaticide, of a child during the first 24 hours of life Infanticide, an infant from month old to 12 months Avunculicide, one's uncle Fratricide, one's brother Mariticide, one's husband or significant other Matricide, one's mother Nepoticide, one's nephew Parricide, of one's close relative Patricide, of one's father Sororicide, of one's sister Uxoricide, of one's wife or girlfriend Nepticide, of one's niece Amiticide, of one's aunt Geronticide – the abandonment of the elderly to Senicide

░░░HAPPY░FATHER'S░DAY░░░ ▄▄▄░░▄▄░▄▄░░▄▄░░░▄░░▄▄░░ ░█░░███████░█░█░█░█░█░█░ ░█░░▀█████▀░█░█░█▄█░█░█░ ▄█▄░░░▀█▀░░░█▄▀░█░█░█▄▀░ I 🤍 DAD

July 27th, 2010, 3:46 AM Today, my boyfriend came over and met my parents. Then he left, and my Dad told me that my boyfriend loved me. I smiled and asked, “How do you know?” He said, “Because he looks at you the same way I look at your Mother.” Love GMH

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Concerns to ask the doc if needed 😷 Although benefits can outweigh much, it’s still a worry. Even if it temporarily lasts a second, a person's pain should be taken into account. I’m not saying you should go under deep sedation just to get teeth cleaned, especially if you don’t need it. If you are having trouble tolerating certain exams, tell them to keep it in mind so the procedure can be easier on both of you. If you experience intense pain and find it hard to tolerate, request for ways to make it easier. Thank you for taking the time to care for me (be sure to show gratitude before, during and/or after) Can you explain the procedure to me? How long will it take? Can we count up or down to the number? Can you explain what you're doing as you begin to do it? Because it’s been hard in the past when X, so can we look at some techniques? Can I drink water before or during the procedure? Do you have a heat pack or ice pack nearby? I want to get it over with and I’d like it to be easy for both of us. If you have a distraction tool (like telling jokes) to use I’d still like to let you know about X knowing my concerns will still be taken into account. Can we talk beforehand and walk me through the procedure as it will happen, step by step? Do you have any non invasive ways to check for X? Can you do it another way instead? Do you have any smaller and/or softer instruments to get the job done? Can you apply something (like warmth, gel, etc.) to the instrument beforehand? Is there a way to get around it? Can I say if I wanted to stop (said procedure) during any time? Can I make informed decisions to decline X? When it comes to certain exams, I’ve sensory issues, trauma, etc. Do you know any breathing exercises or any methods to accommodate my specific needs? It’s not anything personal, it’s not distrust, but I want it to go easy for both of us. 😷

😷 If it’s a same day appointment without any preparation beforehand, still let them know any needs. Even if it’s not worth it to spend nearly an hour on preparing something especially for you, still let them know what might work best for you. If they need to use a speculum, ask for a small one! Even if they can’t use all their time convincing you of how convenient something might be, still tell them if you cannot do certain methods while feeling safe. Is there something on hand to relieve even a little pain? Can it be self administered at home? Can you sit in a different chair? If you cannot possibly resolve something as much as you’d like, ask for them to at least tell you what’s going on and ask how they might cope with similar sensations. Can an X-ray be done instead of a biopsy? If not, ask for them to take your concerns into account and go from there, such as a less invasive tool designed for the same purpose. Wear a long skirt or a dress so you can just pull it up rather than take your clothes off. You can also bring a jacket or different pants to change into. Take headphones and listen to music, explain you're nervous and would not like to hear much about what's going on but just to be told when they've started and when they've finished. Focus in on what you're listening to. Say if it’s your first time doing a certain procedure and mention your concerns. Acknowledge you understand people don’t necessarily enjoy it for fun. Knowing can make you less anxious. It’s definitely worth asking something like ‘I do find this procedure extremely painful, could you try with a X?’ The procedure is easier for them to perform if you’re not squirming around in pain so there’s no reason for them not to at least try. Pamper yourself. Count as you breathe. Breathe in 1-2-3-4. Breathe out 1-2-3-4. If the doctor's good, they'll keep you talking and talk to you for further distraction, and walk you through each step they take. Most of the time, certain tests don't take much longer than 30 seconds and afterwards they'll leave you alone so you can recover if you need it. Talk to them beforehand so they know you're anxious, and see what they can do to help you get through it. Knowing options are always open to you if you need it can help put you at ease. Knowing what certain tests feel like can make it go smoother and easier to manage. Mentally walk yourself through the procedure before it happens while doing slow breathing exercises - breath in for five counts and out for five (or longer) while walking yourself through what to expect with your eyes closed. If at any point you get nervous, keep breathing and open your eyes. Once comfortable, continue through the procedure and just keep breathing. Don’t dismiss true concerns so you can decide what might be best for you. Gather all available facts to make informed decisions with the medics. Discuss the procedure with the medic and what they will do and when it happens. While the procedure happens, ask them to explain what which thing it is they’re doing next and how it might feel. Tell them if at any point you express discomfort, they check in with you and do not proceed until you give them the green light. Make sure nothing is put in you if you have not consented to or understand the purpose of. It’ll help you stay in some control if you are allowed to say if you wanted to stop at any given time to get through it. Anyone could find any experience distressing, but one’s distress can be magnified by the facts of how they are autistic, traumatized, etc. Just like with any other condition, doctors should have to take into account a particular person in their office and adjust what they’re doing to meet the needs of said patient. Jot down in advance everything you want to discuss to know exactly why, when and how something is to be. Ask for details and mention anything. Think about the muscles in your legs as you close your eyes. Imagine you’re at home, or think of a show. Anything to make it seem less intimidating. Give them notes you’ve taken. Ask if you can pace. Even if you aren’t a child, you still may need the catering even if you understand what medics are for. Make kits. Ask them to listen to you and to take time with you to make it more comforting. Advocate as feedback. 😷

Tips 😷 Depending on the procedure, meet the one treating you to see if they are a good fit for you. If they seem nice and willing, find something where you can both agree to make it better for the both of you. If you can notify them ahead of time, mention your needs. “I have autism which might contribute to my discomfort. What can I bring to the clinic? Can I leave my pants on, or can I wear a skirt instead of having to undress? Can you prepare smaller medical tools? Do you have sedatives? Are numbing agents readily available? Do you have a room with an adjustable seat? What’s the best treatment for me? Are there other options to make it easier to get care?” Look up pictures of the place, visit it, read any rule policies and see if they can accommodate to getting special permission for certain aspects. Get a personalized treatment plan. Use telemedicine, an appointment over video, phone call or text chat, when available and appropriate. Ask about at home tests you can send. Tell your doctor about your worries. They might be able to help you address them.

💉 Subcutaneous injections tend to be less painful than intramuscular injections because the needles are smaller and do not have to push through as much tissue. 💉

Repost this If you miss someone right now. July 27, 2015

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓲𝔃𝓮: 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 & 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮. ଓ

Jan 1, 2011 9:47 PM Mom <Your great aunt just passed away. LOL Why is that funny?> <It's not funny! Wht do you mean? Mom lol means laughing out loud!> <Oh goodness!! I sent that to everyone I thought it meant lots of love.

i turned to the guy who k1lled my wife ✨ He cried so desperately, scared for what was to come. If only he had talked to me and tried to reason, maybe I could have spared him. But that was impossible. After all, he was born just a few moments ago...

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 hr. ago villianrules After taking the ancestry test I discovered that I was related to a serial killer. It makes me so proud of continuing the legacy.

Do need the pap smear test if a virg!n and/or not s*xual active? You may not necessarily require, unless... You want to plan on having offspring To check for as*ault (such as ab*se) A family relation has had female reproductive cancer if contemplating feticidal abort1on If getting some reproductive apparatus if any of the above applies to you, the circumstances might be different regarding whether or not you as a virg!n should get one if you're not active The pap smear test only checks for cancers caused by the hpv transmitted virus which is transmitted vía such contact If you're not virg!n you may have hpv (said cancer causing virus, which the pap checks you for) dormant in your system

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago RVKony Join The Blind Child "Stãbbing." Sylvia pointed a trembling finger at my brother Arthur. Her milky, unseeing eyes gleamed in his direction, and his wife, Agnes, trembled with indignation from across the table. My husband's face colored as he dropped his fork and dragged our daughter back into her bedroom, scolding her as they went. The rest of the night was awkward, and the pep in our conversation never recovered. Two weeks later, Agnes was st*bbed to dEath in her office parking lot. An college student found her, and called the cops. My brother swore that he bore no ill will against my daughter, but I could tell that he was lying. One day, the middle-aged woman who taught my daughter how to read her braille called me. "Ma'am, I don't know what's going on but your daughter's been whispering, 'electrocution, electrocution,' for the past half-hour and it's starting to distract her from her lessons. Could you please talk to her?" I did. Sylvia, in her nine-year-old lack of understanding, told me it was "just a cool new word" she learnt at school. The dEath of an electrician made headlines the following week. It was a freak accident involving tangled wires and a bucket of water. Sylvia's teacher's face was blurred for privacy, but her voice was as familiar as anything to me: "He was…my partner…my soulmate." While my husband was working late, I called Sylvia into the living room. "Honey, is there anything Mommy should know?" She hesitated. "Honey, you know you can talk to me." She denied it once more, "I have no secrets from you, Mommy." My husband walked into the living room with his hair tousled and his eyes distant. Instead of rushing to hug her dad, Sylvia simply turned towards him. "Fire," she said. My heart stopped. Everytime Sylvia said something like that, it was the person's partner who d1ed, and of that reason too. A fire? Was Sylvia merely making predictions, or was she cûrsêd on me for snooping in on her business? Why, this dēvıl child— I grew paranoid, checked the appliances and electronics constantly, and cleared the house of any fire hazards. That was my lįfe over the next few days. All the while, I kept my eyes on Sylvia. Sylvia. I had grown almost hateful towards my own daughter. My husband came home one night, wounded and blackened with soot, while I sat in the living room and Sylvia listened to the radio beside me. "What's the matter?" I asked. He gulped. "One of my colleagues, her house…her house caught fire. She was trapped in, but I managed to escape." That turned the gears in my head. "What were you doing in her house?" The expression on my husband's face was a sufficient admission of guilt. I opened my mouth to speak—no, to scream—but a smaller voice from beside me looked at me and whispered: "Poisoning."

http://www.celticcousins.net/scott/stmaryscem.htm

I found myself opening a door in the basement and then I saw the endless cavern of hour-glasses as far as the eye could see. The closest to the door had the names of my family members etched on them. I saw the sand in my parent’s hour-glasses about to run out. I called them and told them to not get on the plane. The sand in the hour-glasses refilled. —Human_Gravy

July 1974, Neville Ebbin was knocked off his small motorcycle and killed by a taxi in Hamilton, Bermuda.⠀ 🚩⠀ One year later in July 1975, his brother, Erskine Lawrence Ebbin was knocked off the same motorcycle by the same taxi with the same driver, carrying the same passenger, on the same street that had killed his brother, Neville.⠀ ⠀ Both brothers were 17 when they died.

“I came home from a hard day of work only to find my girlfriend holding our child. I didn’t know which was more horrifying, seeing my dead girlfriend and child, or knowing someone put them there.” -Edwin Reifer

🔵 The first man to drown during the building of the Hoover was J.G. Tierney, on December 20, 1922. The final man to during the project was Patrick W. Tierney, his son, in 1935 - - also on December 20. 🔵

𝓘'𝓶 𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓪 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻, 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓪 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 ~ 𝓾𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷

6 NOV 2013 ANESTHESIA If you’re having general anesthesia, an anesthesiologist will give you medications that make you lose consciousness. After the surgery is complete, you won’t be wide awake right away. General anesthesia brings on a sleep-like state with the use of a combination of medicines. The medicines, known as anesthetics, are given before and during surgery or other medical procedures. General anesthesia usually uses a combination of intravenous medicines and inhaled gasses. You'll feel as though you're asleep. But general anesthesia does more than put you to sleep. You don't feel pain when you're under general anesthesia. This is because your brain doesn't respond to pain signals or reflexes. While you're under anesthesia, the anesthesia team monitors you, watches your body's vital functions, manages your breathing and treats pain related to the procedure. Your surgery might not require general anesthesia, but you might need sedation to be comfortable during the procedure. The effects of sedation, also called twilight sedation and monitored anesthesia care, can include being sleepy but awake and able to talk, or being asleep and unaware of your surroundings. The recovery from sedation is similar to that of general anesthesia but patients usually wake up quicker and their recovery time is shorter. As with general anesthesia, you won’t be able to drive and should probably have someone stay with you for at least the first several hours after you return home. You'll slowly wake either in the operating room or the recovery room. You'll probably feel groggy and a little confused when you first awaken. You may continue to be sleepy, and your judgment and reflexes may take time to return to normal.

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS v (Autistic Author) Karen watches the exchange, her heart heavy with the weight of their conversation. "Plankton," she says gently. "What can Chip do to help you?" "Just be patient," he says. "And maybe don't touch me to much." Chip's eyes widen at the admission, and he nods solemnly. "Okay," he says. "But what if you don't look okay?" Plankton's antennae twitch in what Karen recognizes as a sign of discomfort, but he answers. "Inform Karen, I mean uh ‘Mommy’, but just wait for me to come back I guess," he says. "Don't call panicked attention to it." Chip nods, his eyes searching Plankton's face. "But what if you fall down or something?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Well, if that happens," he says, his voice gruff but gentle, "you can offer to help me up, yet also same thing. But then just remember to give me some space, okay?" Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "I will, Dad," he says, voice earnest. Karen feels a knot in her throat, watching the two of them. Plankton's vulnerability is a rare sight, but she knows it's a step in the right direction. She decides to push the conversation a bit further. "Chip," she says softly. "Do you have any more questions?" Chip looks at Plankton, his eyes searching. "Why’d you get so mad when asking you questions?" Plankton's antennae twitch again, a hint of frustration in his eye. "It's just... it's hard to explain," he says, his voice tight. "I know you're trying to help, but sometimes it feels like you're poking at a sore spot." Chip's expression falls, his lower lip trembling. "But I didn't mean to hurt you, Dad," he says, his voice a whisper. Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping to his side. "I know you didn't," he says, his voice softer. "It's just that sometimes, when people ask questions about it, it feels like they're not accepting me the way I am." Karen's heart breaks a little at her husband's words, but she knows this is a breakthrough. "Chip," she says, her voice gentle. "What Daddy's trying to say is that sometimes, it's hard for him to talk about." Chip nods, his eyes still on Plankton. "But you're still my dad," he says, his voice firm. "I'll always love you, no matter what." Plankton's antennae twitch as he nods and for a moment, Karen sees a flicker of emotion in his eye. The room is silent, the air thick with unspoken words. Karen's heart is racing, knowing this is a pivotal moment. Plankton has always struggled with expressing his emotions, especially with their son. The words "I love you" are as foreign to him as the surface world. "I know you do, buddy," Plankton says, his voice gruff. He clears his throat, looking down at the rock on the coffee table. "But for me, it's not always easy to say those words." He looks up at Chip, his eye filled with something Karen can't quite place—pain, perhaps, or regret. "But just because I don't say it, doesn't mean I don't feel it, okay?" Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his dad's face. "But why can't you say it?" he asks, his voice small. Plankton's antennae droop, and he looks away, his eye avoiding contact with both Karen and Chip. "I just want to make sure you know that I love you," Chip says, his voice a mix of hope and desperation. "Isn't that what families do?" The room seems to shrink around them, the air charged with anticipation. Plankton's antennae shoot straight up, and his eye narrows into a glare. Karen can almost see the cogs turning in his mind, the struggle to find the right words. "Why do you keep asking?" Plankton snaps, his voice sharp as a knife. Chip flinches, but Karen squeezes his hand, giving him the courage to keep asking. "I just want to understand," Chip whispers. Plankton's eye flashes with irritation. "Why does it matter so much?" he snaps, his antennae quivering. "Why do you have to know everything?" Chip shrinks back, his voice trembling. "Because I don't want you to be sad," he says, his eyes brimming with tears. Plankton processes Chip's words. His antennae quiver, his eye flitting between his son and Karen, who's watching with a silent plea for patience. "Why do you keep asking?" Plankton repeats, his voice rising slightly. "What's so important about me saying it?" Karen's eyes are filled with a silent apology as she sees the confusion and hurt on Chip's face. She knows Plankton's words are a defense mechanism, a way to keep his own fears at bay. But she also knows how much their son needs to hear those words. "Plankton," she says gently, her voice a soft reminder of the love in the room. "Chip just wants to understand." Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping in defeat. "I know," he murmurs. "I just... I don't know how to explain it so he gets it." Karen nods, her heart aching for both her son and her husband. "Chip," she says, her voice soft. "Daddy's trying, okay?" But Chip's eyes are on Plankton, searching for answers that Plankton seems unwilling to give. Plankton's antennae are a blur of movement, his frustration palpable in the air. "I don't know how to explain it so you'll get it!" he snaps, his voice echoing off the walls. Chip's eyes widen, and he withdraws further into himself, clutching the rock tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice shaking. Karen's grip on Plankton's hand tightens, a silent plea for calm. "Plankton," she says gently, "you don't have to explain everything right now. We just want to help." But Plankton's antennae are a blur of agitation, his eye darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "I don't know what you want from me," he says, his voice tight. "I'm trying to be honest, but it feels like no matter what I say, it's not enough." Karen can see the frustration in her husband's movements, his antennae waving erratically. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," she soothes, her voice a gentle reminder of the love in the room. Plankton's eye narrows, his antennae stiff with tension. "But Chip expects me to," he murmurs, his voice filled with a hint of accusation. "You want me to just lay it all out, like it's simple." Karen can feel the frustration rolling off of him, and she knows that pushing him further won't help. "I know it's hard," she says, her voice soothing. "But we can take it slow, okay?" Plankton's antennae quiver, and he nods, his eye still narrowed in irritation. "Fine," he grumbles. "But don't expect me to be good at it." The tension in the room is thick, but Karen refuses to let it linger. She takes a deep breath, her eyes on Chip. "Why don't we start by talking about what happened today?" she suggests, her voice calm and even. Plankton's antennae twitch, and he nods, his eye flicking to Chip before looking away again. "Ok," he says, his voice tight. "Do you remember what happened at the park today?" Karen asks, keeping her voice gentle and steady. Plankton's antennae twitch, and he nods stiffly. "Yes," he says, his voice tight. "I had one of my... moments." Chip looks at him, his eyes wide with concern. "Is it okay with Dad…" "I'm right here, buddy," Plankton interrupts, his antennae still, his eye fixed on the floor. "And I'm okay." But Chip isn't convinced. "But you weren't okay at the park," he says, his voice quivering. "You were scared I think.." Plankton's antennae shoot up in frustration. "I was not scared!" he snaps, his voice echoing through the room. "It's just... it's hard to explain!" Karen's heart squeezes, watching her husband's distress, but she knows they need to keep the conversation going. "Chip," she says gently, "why don't you tell us what you felt when you saw Daddy's moment?" Chip looks at Karen, his eyes glistening. "I was scared," he admits, his voice shaky. "I didn't know what to do, and everyone was looking." Plankton's antennae droop, his eye flicking to the floor. He's visibly upset, and Karen can see the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "I just want to know," Chip says, his voice trembling, "I wanna know why you…" But before he can finish, Plankton's antennae shoot up in anger, his eye flashing with a fury. "Why do you keep poking at me like that?" he yells, his voice echoing through the room. "Can't you just leave me alone?" Chip's eyes fill with tears, and he jumps back, his small body trembling. Karen's heart sinks as she sees the fear in her son's eyes, and she knows that Plankton's outburst isn't helping. "Plankton," she says firmly, her voice cutting through the tension.

disabilityreminders You’re allowed to use accommodations even if you could technically get by without them. Use the accommodations if you can. You don’t need to be at the highest level of suffering to be valid in using them. If they improve your quality of life or paın level or anything at all like that, then they’re worth using and you deserve to use them. Jan 18th, 2024

୨ৎ⋆.˚‪‪❤︎‬‎⭒ fun things you can manifest ⭒ 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬! ⭒ 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝐞.𝐠. 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬, 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐭𝐜.) ⭒ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡! ⭒ 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝟐𝐤! ⭒ 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲! ⭒ 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐬! ⭒ 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬! ⭒ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫! ⭒ 𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞! ⭒ 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 & 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞! ⭒ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐩𝐩! ⭒ 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩! ⭒ 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭!

｡・ ﾟ・｡ ｡ +. ﾟ｡・. ｡. * ﾟ + ｡・ﾟ・｡・ﾟ・. ｡* ｡ ・ﾟ・ ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ a small reminder for you, try not to be so hard on yourself, i know you are trying and giving your best! i know it might sound crazy to you right now but better days WILL come and you will look back at this exact moment and remember how impossible it all seemed. ♡ but look, you DID it! you got through one of your hardest days. so, don’t give up. healing takes time. it might all seem impossible but you will get there. it doesn’t have to look a certain way, in fact, healing looks different for everyone. go at your own pace and don’t try to rush anything! it’s not a race! ♡ don’t stress yourself out and try to worry less. you are stronger than you think and i KNOW you can do this and get through whatever you are going through! 🌸 you GOT THIS! ˙ᵕ˙ ｡・ ﾟ・｡ ｡ +. ﾟ｡・. ｡. * ﾟ + ｡・ﾟ・｡・ﾟ・. ｡* ｡ ・ﾟ・

r/TwoSentenceHorror 34 min. ago MistStarz “Sweetie, dolls don’t move on ıt's own,” mother comforted her terrıfıed daughter. “So just sit sti̕ll while I stitch your prettɥ lıttle møuth up.”

July 1996 . Twins can be conjoined at the: Abdomen (omphalopagus). Chest (thoracopagus). Top of head down to the belly button, facing each other (cephalopagus). Head only (craniopagus). Pelvis, facing each other (ischiopagus). Pelvis, side-to-side (parapagus). Rump-to-rump (pygopagus). Vertebral column (rachipagus). Generally, parapagus are conjoined at the upper chest. Parapagus, united laterally, always share a conjoined pelvis with one or two sacrums and one symphysis pubis. Dithoracic parapagus is when the two chests are separated, and the fusion is confined to the pelvis and abdomen. Dicephalic parapagus is if there is the union of the entire trunk but not the heads. The heart, liver, and diaphragm are fused, but there is a duplication of the respiratory tract and upper digestive tract; the viscera organs are fused. There are two arms, two legs, and two complete vertebral column and spinal cord. The number of limbs varies from 4 to 7, rarely with four legs. Generally, each lung is present in a separate lung cavity. The fusion of lungs is very rare. The alignment of the conjoined pelvis is diagnostic-one complete pelvic ring, with a single anterior pubic symphysis, and with two laterally fused sacral bones, and predominantly only one rectum. Ischiopagi are united ventrally extending from the umbilicus down to a sizeable conjoined pelvis with two symphyses pubis and two sacrum. Craniopagus can be united at any portion of the skull except at the face and the foramen magnum. Pygopagus varieties are joined dorsally; sharing the sacrococcygeal and perineal regions, sometimes even involving the spinal cord. Rachipagus twins are united dorsally above the sacrum. The union may also include the occiput. The cephalopagus varients are fused from the umbilicus to the top of the head. The pelvis and lower abdomen are usually not fused. Thoracopagus are united face-to-face from the upper thorax down till the umbilicus. Omphalopagus are primarily United at the umbilical region aligned face to face. The pelvis is not united. The pure parapagus is two heads, two hands, two legs, two hearts and two pairs of lungs. Conjoined twins are classified on the basis of the union's site, with the suffix pagus meaning fixed or fastened. The twins can have four (tetrapus), three (tripus), or two (bipus) legs. Cephalopagus: The twins often have a fused thorax in addition to a fused head. The single fused head may have two faces (janiceps) Cephalothoracopagus twinning is characterized by the anterior union of the upper half of the body, with two faces angulated variably on a conjoined head. The anomaly is occasionally known as janiceps, named after the two-faced Roman god Janus. The prognosis is extremely poor because surgical separation is not an option, in that only a single brain and a single heart are present and the gastrointestinal (GI) tracts are fused. Craniopagus: The conjoined twins share the skull, meninges, and venous sinuses Ischiopagus: The twins may lie face to face or end to end Pygopagus: The twins are joined dorsally, sharing the sacrococcygeal and perineal regions Rachipagus: The twins generally have vertebral anomalies and neural tube defects. Thoracopagus: The twins lie face to face and share the sternum, diaphragm, upper abdomen wall, and liver and have an exomphalos

Date: 15/12/22 Autistic qualities such as differences in how we understand what our body is feeling (interoception), our experience of pain (hypo/ hyper sensitivity) and difficulties in noticing and identifying how we feel (alexithymia) Nurse practitioners and doctors may have a limited understanding of the unique and significant ways in which autism and its associated issues impact a patient’s experience of a given medical procedure. This means that the particular supports that might help to alleviate discomfort could be lacking. We might encounter resistance to our own attempts to self- regulate and take care of our sensory and emotional needs during the appointment. We may even experience medical gas lighting or invalidation when attempting to express our experience or request much needed accommodations ( we know that this happens at higher rates amongst female presenting people, people of colour and those with additional learning disabilities in our community). For those of us with a history of these types of experiences, just being in a medical environment could feel threatening and unsafe. * Autistic person with a particular set of qualities and traits, this is not a prediction of what others might encounter or an attempt to generalise my own experience to the broader community. Date: 15/12/22

9 Tʜɪɴɢs ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ Author's 𓂀𝕰𝖑𝖎𝖏𝖆𝖍𖣲̸☘♕ :zap: 01/01/22 ┏━━━━•❅•°•❈ - •°•❅•━━━━┓ ┗━━━━•❅•°•❈ - •°•❅•━━━━┛ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☪⋆ 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲, ⒉🄀⒉⒉ ┊ ✫ #hashtag ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ༄ ✯ ⋆ ┊ . ˚ ☾ ❥ ˚✩. ‧₊ ❁ཻུ۪۪.;:୭̥.┊ʟᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡ. ʟᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉˢˢᵒⁿ. ғᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢᵗ. ᴀⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵒⁿ. ꒱ ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ⋆ ☄. ʙᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ɴᵒᵗ ᵇʸ ˢᵗʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇʸ ˢᵗʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ˢᵉˡᶠ. sᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢⁱᵐⁱˡᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ. sᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒᵒ. ɪᵗ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵇⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘⁿⁱᵠᵘᵉ. ·˚ * :telescope: ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ⇢˚⋆ ✎ ˎˊ- " ᴅᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ, ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵒᵘˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉˡᶠ-ᶜᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉˡᶠⁱˢʰ. ʙʸ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ, ɪ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ. ʏᵒᵘ ᵐᵃʸ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ˡᵒᵛᵉ, ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ, ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ... ᴛʰᵉ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗ ⁱˢ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ. ɴᵘʳᵗᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵛᵉʳˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ʏᵒᵘ ˡⁱᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ɴᵒᵗ ᵃⁿʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ. " ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ -`, ʏᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵘʳᵗ? ɢʳᵉᵃᵗ. ᴛʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ. ᴀ ᶠᵒʳᵉˢᵗ ᵍʳᵒʷˢ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇʳᵘⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵘʳᵗᵘʳᵉˢ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁱᵗ ʳᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ. ɴᵒ ᵍʳᵒʷᵗʰ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃʳᵈˢʰⁱᵖ. ɪᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵃᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵒᵘˡ ʸᵉᵗ, ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ. ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵉˡᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵇʸ ᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʳⁱˢᵏˢ. ᴛʰᵉ ˢᵒᵒⁿᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ⁱᵗ, ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ. ꒱ ↷🖇🥛 ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :email: :; ʟᵒᵛᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ. ᴡᵉ ᵃˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ. ᴛʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ʷʰᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ʷʰᵒ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢ ⁱᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ. sᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵖᵘⁿⁱˢʰ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒʳ ˢᵉˡᶠⁱˢʰ ᵇʸ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵏⁱⁿᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃʷᵃʸ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ. ᴡⁱˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵗʰᵉᵐ? ɴᵒ. ɪᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵃⁱᵛᵉ. sᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ'ˢ ᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖʳᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ⁱˢ ᵃ ʳᵉᶠˡᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ. ɴᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ. ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ༘♡ ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵃˡᵘᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰⁱⁿ. ɴᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉᵗʳᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ. ɴᵉᵛᵉʳ. ᴛʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈᵒʷⁿ. ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵃʸ ⁿᵒ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇʸ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ. ɪᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳʸ, ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳʸ ⁱˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ. ᴛʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ. ⋆｡˚❀ ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ _ _ ᴏʷⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ. ᴡᵉ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ. ᴊᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵒʳ ˢᵃʸˢ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱˡˡᵉᵍⁱᵗⁱᵐᵃᵗᵉ, ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʳᵘᵉ. ʙᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ʲᵘᵈᵍᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡᵒʷ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵉʳᵈⁱᶜᵗ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ. ᴛᵃᵏᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳˢʰⁱᵖ. ᴜⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ. ᴛʰᵃᵗ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃˡˡᵒʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ༉‧₊˚✧ ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ꒰ :vhs: ꒱°⁺ ⁀➷ ʟⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ. ᴛᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ. ɴᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ. ɴᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ. ʟⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ. ᴏᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵉ. ᴡᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ. ᴀˡˡᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶜᵉᵃⁿ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵘʳⁱᵒˢⁱᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃʳᵛᵉˡ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ. ᴛʰᵃᵗ ʰᵘᵐᵇˡᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ. ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪┊ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃˢʰᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ. ᴄʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘʳᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ. ʟᵃᵘᵍʰ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ. ᴇᵃᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ. ʀᵉˢᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ. ᴡᵒʳᵏ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘʳⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ. ʙᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ᵒᵏᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜʰᵃʳᵍᵉ. ˎˊ˗ ๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۩ - ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۞๑

22 years ago, a 16 year old girl was pregnant with a baby. Understanding the circumstances, her parents told her to abort or be disowned. Her best friend - her 18 year old neighbour - although he was not the father, stepped into the father figures shoes. They got married 2 years later. Mom and Dad, your love for me, and for each other, GMH. Dec 1st, 2014

𝓛𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓽𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝔂𝓸𝓾 Author's 𓂀𝕰𝖑𝖎𝖏𝖆𝖍𖣲̸☘♕ :zap: 09/23/21 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝. 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚎". 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎. 𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝. 𝙸𝚝 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎.

In 1989 a woman gave birth to a girl who had down syndrome, and a hole in her heart and stomach. She died 3 years later. Her next child was miscarried. She got pregnant again and was told to have an abortion that refused even though she knew the risks were high for her and the baby. Here I am 14 years later, perfectly healthy. Mom, your LGMH Dec 1st, 2014

Terms for the Mvrder of Loved Ones Amicicide: of one’s friend (amicus - friend) Avunculicide: of one’s uncle (avunculus - maternal uncle) Familicide: of one’s family (spouse and children) (familia - family) Filicide: of one’s daughter or son (filia - daughter; filius - son) Fratricide: of one’s brother (or sibling) (frater - brother; fratrem - sibling) Mariticide: of one’s husband (or spouse) (maritus - husband, spouse) Matricide: of one’s mother (mater - mother) Neonaticide: of one’s newborn child (neo - new; natus - born) Patricide: of one’s father (pater - father) Prolicide: of one’s offspring (proles - offspring) Senicide: of one’s elder (senes - elderly; senex - old man) Sororicide: of one’s sister (soror - sister) Uxoricide: of one’s wife (uxor - wife, spouse) Amiticide: of one’s aunt (amita - paternal aunt) Aniclicide: of one’s female elder (anicla - old woman) Avicide: of one’s grandparent (avia - grandmother; avus - grandfather) Conjicide: of one’s spouse (conjux, coniux - spouse, husband, wife) Nepticide: of one’s niece (nepti - niece)

WIFE "Honey, I'm home!" I yelled, seeing my wife sitting at the dinner table already. "Nice to see you." her voice shook, a plastic smile stuck on her face. "It was a long day at work. Hey, do you mind maybe checking out upstairs? I saw your clothes strewn around...' I shrug, and start to eat dinner. "Of course!" A fuller, bigger smile. She races upstairs, and I continue eating. escarysories It's been quite a while, does it really take that long to put away clothes? So I tiptoe upstairs, and hear panicked whispering. *9111 Yes okay, this man thinks I'm his wife and.. ohmygod he's coming! My address j.* "What's going on, honey?" She screams as I impale the knife into her chest.

r/shortscarystories 10 hr. ago KieranWriter Family Photo The father stood at the front of the family photo and beamed a huge smile. The kids were seated in front of the father on little stools. His wife Deborah was at his side and he had his arms around her. The camera was an automatic one the father had set before quickly running to get in to the frame. Click. Big smiles. The father walked over to the camera. Just one more. Click. Big smiles. It was done. A perfect family portrait. Get this up in a frame and he can take it with him wherever he goes... The father put the kids to their beds and then his wife in front of the TV. It was Desperate Housewives; her favourite! It made the father smile. Don’t worry dear, I’ll do the dishes. I’ll load the washing. You just watch TV. The father was a perfect husband. He did everything that he said he would. A real whizz around the house. The house was sparkling by the time he had finished. There was a chime on Deborah’s phone. It was her sister Mary - Hey, not heard from you all day. You ok? Deborah won’t mind, I will just shoot off a short message so that Mary isn’t too alarmed. - Hey all good, just watching TV, really tired. Long day. Off to bed soon xx. It’s fine. They look at each other’s phones all the time. There’s trust in this relationship. A reply from Mary - OK call me tomorrow xx The father thought for a moment, just a moment, a flicker of worry, then replied - sorry better I don’t, I’ve caught a bad sore throat. The father went into the living room to Deborah and gave her a big kiss on the forehead... The next day, the father puts the frame up in the hallway, it will be the first thing that people will see when they walk into the house - the beautiful family, everybody’s dream... Then he spent about an hour mowing the lawn. After everything around the house was sorted, the father knew he could relax, finally relax and that the pressure was on for anything unexpected visits, so they don't walk into a dirty home... He got into the car and took it out of the garage, turned it around and hit the road heading out of suburbs and through the city. He loved his family, he really did, but sometimes a man needs a change and this father needs a fresh start. It wasn’t his first change of scenery. He looked at the copy of the picture of his wife and kids on the dash board and he felt a stab of pain... If only he had taken that picture when they were still alive...

r/TwoSentenceHorror 11 hr. ago SkullStar “I only want two kids; no more, no less”, my husband reassured me as I smiled. The twins went inside the house and as my husband's pregnant mistress crossed the street, my foot pressed on the gas pedal.

I was at my friends house, whose 5yr old little brother died very recently due to a fire. He lived with his aunt and uncle. At dinner, his 4yr old cousin blessed the meal. "Dear God, thank you for this meal. And I know your keeping Brenden safe. Never stop playing with him. Amen." Little kids GMH Mar 23, 2011 at 11:30pm by Carly, AR

https://www.bassettbranches.org/tng/getperson.php?personID=I9186&tree=14B Francis Edmund Bessette Male 1904 - 1917 (~ 12 years) Name Francis Edmund Bessette Father Augustin Seymour Bessette, b. 1870, d. 28 Aug 1948 (Age 78 years) Mother Marie Louise Poulin Born Jul 1904 Richford, Vermont Gender Male Died 1917 Richford, Vermont The Bennington Evening Banner, Friday, October 10, 1919 Boy Suffocates In Elevator Head Forced Between Knees When Caught in Pit by Descending Car Richford, Oct. 8 ? Edmund (Edward?) Bessette, the 15-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Bessette, died of suffocation shortly after six o?clock tonight in a very unusual accident, his body being caught between the bottom of an elevator pit and the descending elevator, which forced his head between his knees and shut off his breath. The accident happened as the lad went down to the basement of the Sweat Comings building for the purpose of getting some cracked ice to put in ice cream tanks for he Corliss Candy Kitchen where he was emplo9yed after school hours. The buckets were filled with ice and it is supposed that the boy pulled the cable starting the elevator down and it pushed him under it. The accident was discovered when the boy failed to show up. H.H. Comings, first selectman, and Dr. R. M. Pelton were summoned and removed the body to the undertaking rooms of Powell & Comings, where and examination was held. No broken bones or even abrasions were discovered on the body and death was found due to suffocation. Buried All Saints Cemetery, Richford, Vermont https://www.bassettbranches.org/tng/getperson.php?personID=I9186&tree=14B

Today my aunt found out she's having a girl She told me she was upset, I asked why She said "I don't think anyone can live up to be as great as you, but then I remember that she will have you to look up to and to become as wonderful" My aunts love for me GMH:) Jul 15, 2013 at 4:00am by Ashley S

Yesterday I saw a mother and daughter studying for a big test, and the daughter has a disability . A man at the restaurant paid for their dinner and said, " God bless you for taking the time and working with YOUR daughter, and not paying someone else to do it". Loving families like this GMH ! Mar 22, 2011 at 3:00am by Morgan E, Nashville, TN

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 13 hr. ago Classic-Dog8399 ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᵖˡˢ ⬇️ When I picked up my daughter from the mental institution, something was off about her. It was not just the feeling in my soul, but the stitches across her forehead.

local anesthesia (you're awake and may feel pressure but shouldn't feel pain), sedation (you're awake but with lessened consciousness and won't remember much) or general anesthesia (you're completely knocked out and won't remember jack)

r/shortscarystories 3 yr. ago deontistic Unnatural Birth ᵀᵂ ᶜᵘᵗˢ There was no other way, and there was no one else. The grotesque swell to the belly, the unnatural writhing, my indescribable pain—I was panicked, but I knew it was up to me. I had to do it. No one else seemed to have the spine to offer anything more than assistance. Clinically . . . I had to think clinically. And I had to move fast, had to take the kn*fe and cut—yet I had to be careful not to cut too deep. To cut too deep would mean certain disaster, wouldn’t it. I had to šhut everything down; I had to šhut off the lights in all my rooms except the one where I would cut. I had to ignore my paın . . . exit the moment . . . had to proceed. I took the kn*fe and placed its blxde on the belly, then I pressed and dragged—not too hãrd, but firm. The layers cut more easily than I’d imagined, and my incision was true. Still, no time to waste . . . had to keep moving. I pulled back the layers and reached deep into the belly. He was right there, my chıld, my soñ . . . I held him in my hands inside the belly, then I pulled him through the viscera, the muscle, the skın. I held him in my arms, covered in blood as he was, eyès half øpened staring at nothing. Of course he was đeađ, just as they’d said he’d be. I held him . . . and I wailed . . . and wailed . . . I hated . . . I hated my husband for making us come to the Amazon with him, hated myself for not refusing to come. I hated that I’d look͘ed̛ away, even though it’d only been for the slightest of moments. And though the beast hadn’t acted out of malevolence as my heart told me it surely must’ve, but only out of its instinct to survive . . . I hated the anaconda, too. My boy, my little James . . . he was just two . . .

Sleepıng on your side or back will help alleviate neck paın, according to Harvard Health. If you're on your back, you'll want a rounded pillow under your neck for support. If you're on your side, you'll also want a pillow directly under your neck for support so your spine stays neutral. There are a couple of sleeping options if you have ear paın. The Cleveland Clinic advises you to sleep on the opposite side of the ear giving you trouble. You also want to sleep slightly elevated so that you're taking off any of the pressure from your inner ear. If you have a cøld or the flu, try sleeping on your back but with your head propped up. This can help keep your sinuses from becoming more congested than they probably are and can help you rest easier. According to Keck Medicine of USC, the best sleeping position for lower back paın is to lie on your back so your spine stays neutral. For lower back paın specifically, it can also help to use a pillow under your knees so that your legs aren't pulling on your spine. For those who wake up in the morning with hip paın or who find their hip paın exacerbated by the way they're sleepıng, try sleepıng on your back. You can also sleep on the opposite side of the hip that's giving you trouble, the Center for Spine and Orthopedics suggests. You should also put a pillow between your knees to take some pressure off your joints. Back sleepıng and side sleepıng can both help with knee paın, though back sleepıng is generally more recommended. If you're sleepıng on your back, the Arthritis Foundation recommends placing pillows under your knees to take any pressure off. If you choose to sleep on your side, place a pillow between your knees. Sleepıng on your back can help with perıods paın. This position, especially with a pillow under your knees, takes the pressure off your stomach and organs, as well as your back — all of which can help ease cramping.

r/shortscarystories 1 day ago CBenson1273 My Aunt Tried To Protect Me From My Mother My childhood was a nightmare. My mother hated me and took every chance to show it. Nothing I ever did was good enough. ‘B’s on report cards were because I was stupid. Unfinished chores were because I was lazy. Any beatings I got were because I deserved them. And my father was just as bad. Fortunately, her sister was my refuge. When things got too bad, I could go over there to escape for a day or two. Perhaps that was why my mother didn’t like Aunt Lisa. The feeling was mutual. So I was surprised when my aunt told me she’d invited my parents over for tea tomorrow. “Why would you invite them here? The whole reason I come here is to get away from them!!” “I know,” she replied. “But that all ends tomorrow. I’m going to have a talk with them; they aren’t going to mistreat you anymore.” I knew in my heart they’d never change, but she was determined to try. The next day, I sat in the corner as my parents entered. “There you are, you wretched child,” my mother said. “Come home this instant and stop causing trouble!” “Now, now, Lydia,” replied my Aunt. “That behavior is exactly why I called you over today. It’s quite enough.” “HOW DARE YOU TELL ME HOW TO RAIS—!” “Do calm down, Lydia. All that screaming isn’t good for your blood pressure. What’s say we all relax, have a nice cup of tea, and discuss this like adults?” My mother still looked furious, but she took the proffered cup and retook her seat. “How you treat Annie isn’t right. It needs to stop.” “You have no say in what I do in MY home. And whatever MY daughter gets, I can assure you it’s deserved.” “So you aren’t open to change, then?” “Absolutely not - that girl’s gotten exactly what she deserves.” “Very well, then. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” “Come to wh—“ my mother started when she suddenly began to foam at the mouth and grasp at her throat. “Don’t mind that,” my Aunt said. “Just a bit of poison I placed in your cups. I was hoping you’d agree to change your ways, but clearly you never will. Goodbye, sister.” After my parents had collapsed on the floor, I looked over at my aunt. “What did you do?” “What needed to be done,” she replied. “But what if they’d agreed to stop?” “Then I’d have given them the antidote I was keeping in my purs—“ A look of shock crossed her face as her throat closed, replaced by panic as she rifled desperately through her purse. “Looking for this?” I asked, holding up her syringe. “But…. why?” my aunt asked as she collapsed. “Remember all those times you saw my bruises and scars and sent me back there anyway?” “But I loved you like a daughter,” she gasped with her final breath. “Then you should’ve done better,” I said

r/shortscarystories 3 mo. ago Intrepid_Wanderer ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ Delivery Room My grandparents were worried when I said I'd decided to get the tablet. They're a bit old-fashioned, but they mean well. The thing is, it's 2084. Most people who can get the tablet just go ahead and accelerate through all nine months of pregnancy. The baby can be born as soon as the parents like- no need to endure mornıng sickness or false warnings for labor. And miscarriages are nearly a thing of the past- most babies are accelerated at the first warning. Medical technology is truly amazing. Not everyone accelerates. Some people worry about those obscure studies on bonding ability in accelerated babies, some consider a "natural" course an unmissable experience and some just don't have access to it. Most of the time, though, people accelerate. I was so excited to get to the hospital. I didn't even get an ultrasound done first- the test was positive, and I was about to see my baby anyway in a few minutes. There were the occasional horror stories. Most of them were urban legends, tales of some quack who messed up and made horrific things happen. Truth was, there was very little to mess up, especially at a nice clinic like this one. With today's medications, I could expect to hardly feel the labor and go home with my family on the same day. They said I'd feel a tingling in my abdomen, maybe even some light kicking. At first I did, but it was more uncomfortable than I'd imagined. It was like a twisting, stretching sensation inside of me. I hated to imagine what it might have been like if the tablet didn't also act as an aesthetic. I tried to close my eyes and breathe through it. Something was soaking through the bed- must be my water breakıng. But it smelled metallic, and I was so dizzy. Why didn't I hear crying? Shouldn't it have worked by now? Someone started shouting, but I couldn't open my eyes to see why. The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was a doctor asking about ultrasounds and the words "ectopic pregnancy."

To my dear darling baby. Author: Anonymous Baby Name: Baby Zepeda Birth Date: May 2011 Abortion Date: October 2010 The pain sometimes is so hard to bear, even after 11 years. I regretted it all the moment I woke up from the procedure. I screamed, “My baby!”. I’m so sorry I was weak and insecure. Your dad didn’t want to keep you because we were barely making it and didn’t want to give you a bad life. I was scared, no one would love me like your dad and he would leave me if I kept you. How wrong we were. He wouldn’t have left me. He would have loved you so much. Baby, you are missed every second of my life. Both your dad and I regret our decision. He also hurts for you too even tho he doesn’t show it. You have 2 sisters and 1 brother. I can’t wait to hug you and hold and kiss you in heaven. Oh my baby. How could I have been so stupid and weak. I know you are with God, Jesus y tu bisabuela y tus tios! I love you with all my being and hope you can forgive me. Your passing lead me to God. The only positive. I love you! Posted: Jul 6, 2022

Ask your doctor about numbing cream. Prescription topical creams that contain lidocaine and prilocaine (Emla, Relador, and generic) can cut vaccine pain in half, the University of Toronto's Taddio says, and both children and adults can use these. The creams take anywhere from 20 to 60 minutes to become fully effective, depending on the brand. Taddio suggests bringing cream to the doctor's office and asking the nurse when you first arrive to show you where the shot will be given, so you'll be sure to numb the right area in advance. December 10, 2017

White-tigress • 16d ago I recommend calling different doctors, letting them KNOW you have anxiety and you need an appointment with no physical exam. It’s ok to have an appointment like this and if you don’t feel comfortable with the doctor then try a different one. Go To the doctor you end up feeling the most comfortable with and explain your pain issues and get their feedback For a plan for pain management and assurance that if you say STOP at any time during the exam, it all Stops and you either get to Have a break and calm down or get to decide to walk away and not finish. I don’t know if this helps but you have the right to meet with more than one doctor and not have a physical exam and discuss your anxiety and need for pain management and boundaries and why like this.

General anaesthesia is a state of controlled unconsciousness. During a general anaesthetic, medicines are used to send you to sleep, so you're unaware of surgery and do not move or feel pain while it's carried out. The anaesthetic should take effect very quickly. You'll start feeling lightheaded, before becoming unconscious within a minute or so. The anaesthetist will stay with you throughout the procedure. They'll make sure you continue to receive the anaesthetic and that you stay in a controlled state of unconsciousness. The anaesthetist will be by your side the whole time you're asleep, carefully monitoring you, and will be there when you wake up. The main differences between sedation and general anaesthesia are: your level of consciousness the need for equipment to help support your breathing possible side effects. With minimal and moderate sedation, you feel comfortable, sleepy and relaxed. You may drift off to sleep at times, but will be easy to wake. With general anaesthesia, you are completely unaware and unconscious during the procedure. Deep sedation is between the two. There are three different levels of intravenous sedation. They are called ‘minimal’, ‘moderate’ (sometimes also called conscious sedation) and ‘deep’ sedation. However, the levels are not precise and depend on how sensitive a patient is to the medication used. After your operation, the anaesthetist will stop the anaesthetic and you'll gradually wake up. General anaesthetics can affect your memory, concentration and reflexes. You may feel hazy or groggy as you come round from the general anaesthetic. The sedation medicine or anaesthetic can make some patients slightly confused and unsteady after their treatment. Importantly, it can affect their judgement so they may not be able to think clearly. It is very common to feel drowsy and less steady on your feet. It is common for sedation to affect your judgement and memory for up to 24 hours.

These may include nitrous oxide (laughing gas) inhaled, an intravenous (IV) line in, oral medications like Valium or Halcion (for anxiety) or a combination, along with anesthesia to numb the pain. Regardless of which type of anesthesia you’re given, you should feel relaxed and pain-free, with limited to no memory of the procedure. If you’re given general anesthesia, you’ll lose consciousness altogether. A surgical team will closely monitor your pulse, respiration, blood pressure, and fluids.

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS x (Autistic Author) Karen's heart squeezes as she sees the vulnerability in her husband. She reaches out and takes Plankton's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "We're all learning here," she says. "And we'll keep figuring it out together." Then, Chip speaks up again, his voice a little stronger. "Daddy," he says, "I still want to show you affection." Plankton looks up, his antennae twitching with a hint of sadness. "I know, buddy," he says. "And I appreciate that. But sometimes, my brain needs a different kind of love." Chip frowns. "But I don't know how," he says. Plankton's antennae wiggle as he thinks. "How about this?" he suggests, his eye brightening slightly. "You can make me a 'love rock'." Chip's eyes light up with excitement, and Karen nods encouragingly. "You can pick out a rock from the beach or the yard, and every time you feel like giving me a hug but know I might not be able to handle it, you can give me the rock instead. That way, I'll always know you're thinking of me." Chip nods eagerly, already imagining the perfect rock in his mind. "I'll find the biggest, smoothest rock," he says, his eyes shining with purpose. Plankton's antennae rise slightly, and he manages a smile. "That's my boy," he says, his voice a little less strained. “I’ll go look in our backyard right now,” Chip says as he does so. Karen watches him run off and looks at Plankton, her eyes filled with emotion. "You ok?" she asks, squeezing his hand. Plankton nods, his antennae still. "I think so," he murmurs. "Thank you, Karen." Karen squeezes his hand in return, her eyes filled with understanding. "You're doing great," she whispers. As Chip rummages outside, the sound of his little feet pattering on the ground, Karen and Plankton sit in the quiet kitchen, the weight of their conversation still hanging in the air. Plankton's antennae droop slightly, but there's a newfound openness in his gaze. "Do you think he'll understand?" Plankton asks, his voice still raw from the previous night's emotions. Karen squeezes his hand, her eyes filled with warmth. "He's a smart kid," she reassures him. "And he loves you. He'll get it." They sit in silence for a moment, listening to the distant sounds of Chip's exploration. Then, Plankton speaks up, his voice tentative. "What if I have another meltdown?" he asks. Karen squeezes his hand, her gaze unwavering. "We'll be there for you," she says. "We'll help you through it." The sound of the back door opening and closing echoes through the house, and Chip returns, holding a rock that fits perfectly in the palm of his hand. It's smooth, with a slight shimmer in the light. "Here it is!" he exclaims, holding it out to Plankton. "It's your love rock!" Plankton's antennae lift, and a genuine smile spreads across his face as he takes the rock. "It's perfect," he says, his voice filled with emotion. He can feel the warmth from Chip's hand still lingering on the stone. "Thank you, buddy." Chip beams, his earlier fears forgotten in the excitement of the moment. "Can we go to the park now?" he asks, hopeful. Karen looks at Plankton, who nods wearily. "Sure," she says, pushing her chair back. "But let's take it slow, okay?" The park is a familiar place, filled with the sounds of children's laughter and the distant hum of the city. As they walk, Chip chats away, his voice a balm to Plankton's nerves. Karen notices the subtle changes in her husband's gait, the way his antennae twitch with every new sound or sight. She knows he's trying hard to stay present, to not get overwhelmed by the sensory onslaught of the outside world. When they reach the playground, Chip runs off to the swings, his love rock clutched tightly in his hand. Plankton watches him, his gaze a mix of pride and concern. He knows his son's energy can be too much for him sometimes, but he doesn't want to miss out on these moments. Plankton takes a deep breath, his antennae wiggling as he gathers his courage. He approaches the swing set, his eye scanning the area for any potential triggers. The chains of the swings glint in the sun, and he can almost feel the sway of the seat beneath him. He hasn't swung in years, not since before Chip was born. Plankton sits on the swing by Chip. The metal is cold and hard beneath him, but as he starts to push off with his foot, the chains begin to squeak a comforting rhythm. The motion is familiar, almost soothing, reminding him of a time when the world was simpler, less stormy. He watches Chip, his heart swelling with love as his son's laughter fills the air. As they swing side by side, Plankton's antennae twitch with every movement of the breeze, every giggle that escapes Chip. The wind rushes through the playground, and he feels the rock in his pocket, a reminder of their newfound understanding. The rhythmic motion of the swing starts to work its magic, and Plankton's beginning to relax. The gentle sway feels like a lullaby for his overstimulated brain. Plankton smiles, his antennae waving in a way that says everything is ok. They swing in silence for a while, the steady back and forth a comforting metronome to the chaotic symphony of the playground around them. Plankton can feel the tension in his body slowly uncoiling, the squeak of the chains becoming a familiar melody that soothes his frazzled nerves.

Some of my favorite words and phrases to describe a character in pain coiling (up in a ball, in on themselves, against something, etc) panting (there’s a slew of adjectives you can put after this, my favorites are shakily, weakly, etc) keeling over (synonyms are words like collapsing, which is equally as good but overused in media) trembling/shivering (additional adjectives could be violently, uncontrollably, etc) sobbing (weeping is a synonym but i’ve never liked that word. also love using sob by itself, as a noun, like “he let out a quiet sob”) whimpering (love hitting the wips with this word when a character is weak, especially when the pain is subsiding. also love using it for nightmares/attacks and things like that) clinging (to someone or something, maybe even to themselves or their own clothes) writhing/thrashing (maybe someone’s holding them down, or maybe they’re in bed alone) crying (not actual tears. cry as in a shrill, sudden shout) dazed (usually after the pain has subsided, or when adrenaline is still flowing) wincing (probably overused but i love this word. synonym could be grimacing) doubling-over (kinda close to keeling over but they don’t actually hit the ground, just kinda fold in on themselves) heaving (i like to use it for describing the way someone’s breathing, ex. “heaving breaths” but can also be used for the nasty stuff like dry heaving or vomiting) gasping/sucking/drawing in a breath (or any other words and phrases that mean a sharp intake of breath, that shite is gold) murmuring/muttering/whispering (or other quiet forms of speaking after enduring intense pain) hiccuping/spluttering/sniffling (words that generally imply crying without saying crying. the word crying is used so much it kinda loses its appeal, that’s why i like to mix other words like these in) stuttering (or other general terms that show an impaired ability to speak — when someone’s in intense pain, it gets hard to talk) staggering/stumbling (there is a difference between pain that makes you not want to stand, and pain that makes it impossible to stand. explore that!) recoiling/shrinking away (from either the threat or someone trying to help) pleading/begging (again, to the threat, someone trying to help, or just begging the pain to stop) Feel free to add your favorites or most used in the comments/reblogs!

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS vi (Autistic Author) "Plankton," she says firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. "Let's take a breathe." He glares, his antennae vibrating with agitation. But he does as she says, taking a deep, shaky breath. Chip watches him, eyes wide and full of tears. "Chip," Karen says, her voice calm. "Why don't you go to your room and play for a bit?" Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. He slips off the couch, clutching the rock to his chest. But doing so, Chip accidentally touches Plankton when he passes, and Plankton yelps in alarm when Chip brushes his shoulder. "Sorry," Chip whispers. Plankton flinches, his antennae shooting straight up as he jolts back from the contact. "I told you, no touching!" he snaps, his voice a thunderclap in the tense silence. Chip's eyes widen with fear and confusion, his lip quivering as he backs away, holding the rock protectively. "I didn't mean to," he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's antennae wiggle in an exaggerated fashion, his eye rolling dramatically. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he says in a high-pitched mockery of Chip's voice. "I didn't mean to touch you and make everything about me." Karen's face falls, and she knows they've taken a step backward. But she also sees the hurt in Plankton's eye, the pain that he's trying to hide with anger. "Dad," Chip says, quivering. "That's not fair, I..." But Plankton doesn't let him finish. "You know what's not fair?" Plankton spits, his antennae whipping back and forth in fury. "Is having a son who thinks he knows everything about me!" Chip's eyes fill with tears as he stumbles back, clutching the rock tighter. "I just wanted to help," he whispers, his voice breaking. Plankton's in a sarcastic imitation of Chip's movements. "Oh, the great helper," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think you can just fix me with your questions and your pity?" Chip's eyes fill with hurt as he watches his father mock his innocent concern. Karen feels a mix of anger and sadness, but she knows she must tread carefully. "Daddy," Chip says, his voice shaking as he puts the rock down, "I'm sorry if I made you mad." But Plankton isn't listening. He picks up the rock and with a sudden, violent movement, he throws it against the wall. It shatters into a hundred pieces, the sound echoing through the room. "Son, I’m sorry if I made you mad!” Plankton's sarcastic tone cuts through the silence like a knife, his antennae flailing wildly. Chip flinches at the sudden outburst, his eyes wide with shock. "That's what you want, right?" Plankton continues, his voice rising. "To fix everything? Sorry doesn't cut it," Plankton snaps, his antennae trembling with rage. "No, Dad," Chip says, his voice barely audible, "I just wanted to understand." But Plankton isn't done. "Oh, I'm sorry, little genius," Plankton says, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Is that what you want to hear?" Chip stares at him, his eyes brimming with tears. "No," he whispers. "I just want you to be okay, I love you!" But Plankton's anger is a living, breathing thing, swirling around him like a storm. "Love isn't enough, Chip!" Plankton yells, his antennae quivering with rage. "You can't just love away my problems! You don't get to decide that for me!" Karen's heart is in her throat, but she forces herself to speak calmly. "Plankton, please," she says, her voice shaking. "You're scaring him." Chip nods. “I just…” But Plankton's fury is unrelenting. "You think a simple game of 'I love you' is going to make everything okay?" Plankton interrupts, his voice a roar that shakes the walls of their tiny underwater home. Chip's eyes fill with confusion, and he takes a step backward, trembling. "But, Dad," he whispers. "But nothing!" Plankton's antennae whip around, and he stands, his whole body vibrating with anger. "You think you can fix me? You think you can just love me and everything will be fine?" Karen tries to interject, but Plankton's rage is like a tidal wave, crashing over everything in its path. "You think you gotta have the last word just to show how great and special you are Chip. But in the real world No means No so BACK OFF." Chip's eyes widen, and he stumbles backward, the shattered rock on the floor a stark reminder of Plankton's outburst. "Daddy," he whispers, his voice trembling. Plankton's antennae only stiffen further. "I'm sorry, Chip," Karen says, her voice a thread of calm in the storm. "Let's go to your room, okay?" Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton, who's still standing with his antennae flailing. Karen can see the hurt in her son's gaze, and it breaks her heart. She helps him off the couch, and together, they navigate the shards of rock on the floor. As they leave the room, Karen casts a sorrowful glance at Plankton, who's now slumped into the couch, his antennae drooping. The anger seems to have drained out of him, leaving behind a tired, defeated creature. In Chip's room, Karen helps her son sit on the bed, the soft glow from the glowfish lamp casting a warm light on his tear-stained face. She sits beside him, her hand gently rubbing his back in comforting circles. "You didn't do anything wrong, sweetie," she whispers. "Daddy just has a hard time with his feelings." Chip's eyes are glued to the floor, his chest heaving with quiet sobs. "But why?" he asks, his voice cracking. Karen takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Sometimes, when people are upset or scared, they don't know how to show it," she says gently. "Daddy's just trying to deal with his own stuff, and it can be hard for him to talk about." Chip nods, his eyes still on the floor. "But why does he have to get so mad?" he asks, his voice trembling. "It's not that he's mad at you," she says softly. "It's just that he doesn't know how to express himself without getting upset." "But why?" Chip asks, his voice muffled by the pillow he's buried his face in. Karen takes a deep breath, her eyes misting over. "Daddy's brain works differently, Chip," she says, her voice cracking. "Sometimes, when we're sad or scared, we get mad instead." Chip lifts his head, his eyes red and wet. "But why doesn't he just tell me he loves me?" he asks, his voice a broken whisper. Karen sighs, sad but understanding. "Some people show love in different ways," she says. "Daddy might not say it out loud, but he does it every day. Like when he takes you on adventures or when he makes you laugh." "But why can't he just say it?" he asks. Karen's throat tightens. "Sometimes, it's hard for Daddy to say the words," she explains gently. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it." Chip sniffles, his eyes never leaving hers. "But why can't he just tell me?" Karen sighs, her hand still rubbing soothing circles on his back. "It's complicated," she says. "Daddy's brain is like a treasure chest with lots of locks. Some days, the right words just can't find the key." Chip looks at her, his eyes searching for a simple truth amidst the complexity. "But I want him to feel happy with me," he murmurs. Karen nods, her voice soft. "And he is, sweetie," she says. "Just in his own way." They sit in silence for a moment. Then Karen stands, her movements slow and deliberate. "Let's leave Daddy alone for now," she suggests. "He needs some space to sort through his feelings." Chip nods, his eyes still glistening with unshed tears. Together, they leave the room, closing the door softly behind them. As they walk down the corridor, Karen's thoughts are a tumult of emotions. She's angry at Plankton for his outburst, but she also understands his pain. He's been dealing with his condition alone for so long, and now he's forced to confront it with their son's innocent curiosity. They enter the living room, and she can see Plankton sitting on the couch, his antennae drooping. He looks up as they come in, his expression a mix of guilt and defiance. Karen takes a deep breath, trying to keep her own emotions in check. "Why don't we watch a movie?" she suggests, her voice gentle. "Something to help us relax?" Chip nods, still sniffling, and Plankton's antennae perk up slightly. It's a small victory, but it's something. They settle on the couch, Chip curled up in the middle with a blanket. Karen chooses a movie they've watched together before, a silent gesture of comfort and familiarity. Plankton's eye is on the screen, but his antennae are still twitching with leftover anger.

General anesthesia is a combination of medications that provide loss of consciousness, prevent memory formation, and eliminate pain. This allows a patient to have surgery without any memory of the event and to be completely pain free during the procedure. Most will get a little silly and lightheaded, thence may not even remember things about. The goal of general anesthesia is to make a person unconscious and keep him or her that way throughout a procedure. This is so the patient has no awareness or recollection of this procedure, so they have no knowledge it even happened. General anesthesia does a number of things on top of making a person unconscious. It relieves anxiety, minimizes pain, relaxes muscles (to keep the patient still), and helps block out the memory of the procedure itself. Most of the time, when you wake up and the anesthesia effect wears off, you will be confused and overwhelmed, even completely unaware of surroundings. Some will be talking without knowing what they’re saying.

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS xi (Autistic Author) The wind whispers through the leaves of the nearby trees, carrying with it the scent of fresh-cut grass and the distant sound of seagulls. It's a simple pleasure, but one that Plankton has often missed in his quest to protect his son from the storms in his own mind. Suddenly, the serenity is shattered as a ball comes hurtling through the air, narrowly missing Plankton's head. He flinches, his antennae shooting straight up in alarm. Chip's swing comes to an abrupt halt, his eyes wide with fear. The children playing nearby laugh, unaware of the chaos their game has brought to the quiet corner of the playground. Plankton's eye darts around, trying to process the sudden assault of sound and movement. His breath comes in quick, shallow gasps, and Karen can see the beginnings of a panic attack forming on his face. "Daddy!" Chip shouts, jumping off his swing and racing to his side. With surprising speed and grace, Chip leaps into action, catching Plankton just as he starts to topple off the swing. "Daddy!" Chip says, his voice filled with urgency as he gently guides Plankton's unresponsive body to the soft grass below. The love rock still clutches in his small hand. Karen rushes over, her eyes wide with concern. "Is he ok?" she asks, kneeling beside them. Chip nods, his chest heaving. "He has an absence seizure thing," he says, his voice shaking slightly. He looks up at Karen, his eyes filled with fear and confusion. "What do we do?" Karen's eyes fill with a mix of panic and love as she takes in the sight of Plankton, his body frozen in mid-swing, his antennae limp. She's been here before, but it never gets easier. "It's ok," she says, her voice calm despite her racing heart. "Just give him a moment. He'll come back to us." Chip nods, his grip on the love rock tightening as he watches his father. The world seems to slow down around them, the laughter of the other children fading into a distant memory. Plankton's breathing is shallow, his body stiff. Karen reaches out, placing a gentle hand on his back, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. The seconds tick by like hours, each one filled with the weight of uncertainty. Chip clutches the love rock, willing his dad to come back. He's seen this before, but it never gets easier. He remembers the first time it happened, the fear that had gripped him, the feeling of helplessness as his dad's eye glazed over. But now, he knows what to do. He's not as scared; he's prepared. With trembling hands, Chip takes out the love rock, its smoothness a comforting reminder of their conversation. He places it gently in Plankton's palm, curling the slender fingers around it. "You're ok," he whispers, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside. "We’re here." Plankton's body remains still, a stark contrast to the vibrant world around them. The squeaks of the swings, the laughter of the children, the distant crash of waves, all seem to fade into the background as they wait for him to return from his brief retreat. Karen sits beside Chip, her hand on his shoulder, offering silent support. Time seems to stand still as they wait, the rock in Plankton's hand a silent testament to their newfound bond. The park's vibrant sounds muffle into a distant symphony, the world holding its breath for Plankton's return. Above them, the sun casts a warm, gentle light, the shadows dancing as if in a silent ballet of concern. The seconds stretch into eternity, each one a heartbeat of hope. Chip's eyes never leave his father, willing him back with all his might. The rock in Plankton's palm is a symbol of love and understanding, a bridge connecting them through the stormy seas of his mind. As Plankton's body remains frozen, the world around them seems to hold its breath. The rustling of the leaves above, the distant laughter of children, even the crash of waves in the background seem to hush in respectful silence. It's as if the universe itself is offering a quiet sanctuary for Plankton's return. Chip's eyes never leave his father's face, his grip on the love rock in Plankton's palm unwavering. His heart races with fear, but he squeezes the rock tighter, trying to channel the love and support he feels into his dad's unresponsive hand. Chip decides to whisper comforting words. "Daddy, it's ok," he says softly. "You're safe here with me and Mom." Karen's eyes are filled with a mix of fear and admiration for her son's courage. She watches as Chip decides to continue. "Remember the rock, Daddy?" Chip whispers. "It's my way of saying I love you." Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, a glimmer of recognition in his eye. The world around them seems to hold its breath, the very air thick with anticipation. Chip's voice is the only sound, a gentle lullaby in the cacophony of the playground. The rock in Plankton's hand feels warm, almost alive, as if it's absorbing the love Chip is whispering into it. Chip watches as Plankton's antennae slowly start to wiggle, a sign that he's coming back to them. "I'm here," Chip says, his voice barely audible. "I'll always be here." Karen's hand moves to cover Chip's, her eyes glistening with tears she's trying hard to hold back. The sight of her son's unwavering support is both heartbreaking and awe-inspiring. Plankton's chest rises and falls more steadily, his breathing evening out. The rock in Plankton's hand seems to pulse with a gentle warmth, a silent acknowledgment of Chip's words. Karen sees the tension in Plankton's features begin to ease, his antennae drooping slightly as he starts to come back to them. It's a delicate process, like waking a sleeping dragon. Any sudden movement could send him back into the storm. Chip's voice is a beacon, guiding Plankton through the fog. "It's ok," Chip repeats, his voice soothing, "You're with us." Plankton's antennae twitch again, and Karen can see the spark of understanding in his eye. Slowly, Plankton's body starts to relax. The tension in his shoulders eases, and his antennae twitch in a way that tells Karen he's listening, that he's with them again. His breathing evens out, and his eyelid flickers closed. For a moment, Chip is afraid. But then, Plankton's hand tightens slightly around the rock, giving him a squeeze that says 'Thank you'. Karen smiles, her eyes shimmering with relief. "Looks like he’s asleep," she whispers, her voice filled with a mix of humor and love. Chip nods, his own eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. They stay like that for a while, the three of them, in the quiet sanctuary of the park bench. The storm in Plankton's mind has passed, leaving them in a gentle lull. The playground's sounds slowly start to filter back in, the chatter of children, the distant hum of the city, the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Chip keeps whispering, his voice a gentle caress in the stillness. "It's ok, Daddy. You're safe." Karen watches her son with a mix of love and sadness, knowing the weight he now carries. He's growing up too fast, she thinks, but he's handling it with more grace than anyone could ask for. Plankton's hand relaxes around the rock, his breathing deep and even. The storm inside him has passed for now, leaving them with a quiet, precious moment. Chip leans into her, his voice a whisper. "Is he going to be ok?" Karen nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. "He'll be fine," she says. "Rest is sometimes the best thing for him after an episode." Chip nods, his grip on the rock in Plankton's hand loosening slightly. He looks around the park, the world coming back into focus. The other kids are playing, their laughter a gentle reminder of the life that goes on outside their little bubble of concern. "Should we go home?" Chip asks, his voice still hushed. Karen nods. "Let's get him into the shade," she says, gesturing to a nearby tree. "The fresh air and quiet will do him good." Together, they gently lift Plankton and carry him to the cool, shaded spot. Chip is careful not to jostle him too much, his little hands supporting Plankton's head. Under the tree, Karen lays a blanket on the ground and they place him down. His antennae are still now, no longer dancing with the stress of the seizure. His breath is deep and even, his features relaxed in sleep. Chip watches him intently, his thumb tracing the smooth surface of the love rock. "He's going to be ok, right?" he asks, his voice a barely audible whisper. Karen nods, her eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. "Of course, sweetie," she says. "Daddy just needs some rest."

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CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS xii (Autistic Author) The tree above them provides a gentle canopy, casting dappled shadows on Plankton's sleeping form. The leaves rustle in the breeze, creating a natural lullaby that soothes not only him but Chip and Karen as well. The world outside the shade seems to melt away, leaving them in a quiet cocoon of peace. Karen watches her son with a mix of admiration and sadness. He's growing up so fast, she thinks, having to learn about things most kids his age don't have to. But Chip's strength is undeniable, and she knows that together, they'll navigate the storms that come with Plankton's condition. The park's cacophony slowly starts to fade into the background, replaced by the rhythmic sound of Plankton's deep, even breathing. Chip sits next to him, the love rock still in his hand, his thumb tracing the smooth surface. The shadows from the tree above dance across their faces, creating a mesmerizing pattern of light and dark that seems to mirror the complexities of their lives. Karen pulls out a small blanket from their bag and covers Plankton gently, tucking it around his small body. She looks at Chip, her eyes filled with a mix of love and sadness. "Why don't you sit with him for a bit?" she suggests. "I'll grab the car." Chip nods solemnly, taking a seat beside his father. He places the love rock in Plankton's palm, curling his slender fingers around it. The park's sounds seem to fade away as he focuses on Plankton's peaceful face, the only indication of life the steady rise and fall of his chest. Chip's eyes drift over to the swings, now silent, the chains still swaying slightly from their earlier use. While Karen walks to get the car, Chip sits in quiet contemplation, feeling the weight of their conversation from the night before. He's learned so much about his dad, about the storms in his brain that make him different. But instead of fear, Chip feels a newfound respect and love, a bond stronger than any storm could break. Plankton's eye flutter open, the sleepy confusion fading as he sees Chip sitting beside him, the love rock still clutched in his hand. He looks around, the park coming back into focus. His antennae twitch slightly, searching for the source of comfort. "Hey, buddy," Plankton says, his voice groggy. "What happened?" Chip's eyes light up, his grip on the rock tightening. "You had a seizure," he explains, his voice steady. "But you're ok now. We're just waiting for Mom to bring the car." Plankton nods, his gaze drifting to the rock. He opens his palm, revealing the smooth, shimmering stone. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. Chip looks up, his eyes meeting Plankton's. "It's our love rock," he says simply, his voice filled with the weight of their new understanding. Plankton's antennae twitch, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I remember," he says, his voice a little stronger. "It's a good rock." The two sit in companionable silence, the rock a tangible symbol of their bond. The park's sounds slowly filter back in, the laughter of children, the squeak of the swings, the distant bark of a seagull. Life goes on around them, but in this moment, their world is small and focused. As Karen pulls up with the car, she sees them sitting under the tree, the love rock in Plankton's hand. She parks and walks over, her eyes filled with concern. "Ready to go home?" she asks gently. Plankton nods, his antennae rising slightly. "Yeah," he says, his voice still shaky. "Let's go." They carefully help him into the car, the love rock still nestled in his hand. The drive home is quiet, the weight of the day's events hanging heavy in the air. Chip watches his dad, his heart aching for the silent struggle he knows he's facing. As they pull into the driveway, Karen looks back in the rearview mirror. "Remember, Chip," she says, her eyes meeting her son's in the reflection, "today was a learning experience. We all need to be patient with each other." Chip nods solemnly, his gaze never leaving Plankton's face. He sees the exhaustion etched into his father's features, the quiet strength that hides beneath the storm. "I know," he whispers, his voice filled with understanding beyond his years. The house is a welcome retreat from the overwhelming sensory assault of the park. Inside, everything is familiar and comforting, a bastion of predictability in a world that often seems too loud and too bright for Plankton. Karen helps Plankton into bed, tucking him in with the care of a lighthouse keeper guiding a ship to safety. Chip sits on the edge of the bed, holding the love rock out to Plankton. "Do you still want this?" he asks, his voice tentative. Plankton's hand reaches out, his eyes never leaving the rock. He takes it, his grip firm. "Yeah," he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "It's comforting." Karen gives them both a soft smile before leaving the room, closing the door gently behind her. The room is filled with the hum of the fish tank, the calming blue light casting a soothing glow. Chip sits with his father, the love rock nestled in Plankton's hand, a silent sentinel of their bond. For a moment, they just breathe together. Then, Chip decides to speak. "Daddy," he says, his voice gentle and soothing, "I'm here for you. No matter what happens, ok?" Plankton's eye flicker with understanding, and he squeezes the rock in his hand. "Thank you, Chip," he murmurs, his voice filled with more emotion than Chip has ever heard from him. "I'm lucky to have you." The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, as Chip nods, his own eyes brimming with tears. He leans in to offer Plankton his hand to hold. Plankton takes it, his grip firm, his eye searching Chip's for reassurance. The love rock remains a silent witness to their conversation, a physical representation of the unspoken affection that flows between them. Slowly, Plankton's eye grow heavy, the lid drooping as sleep claims him once more. His hand relaxes around Chip's, the rock still cradled in his other palm. Chip watches his father's chest rise and fall with each deep, even breath, the storm of the day finally abating. Eventually, Plankton's eye opens, a glimmer of understanding piercing the tempest. His antennae still, his body going rigid with the effort of speaking. He draws in a deep breath, his eye locking onto Chip's and also Karen’s, the love rock a bridge between them. "Lo..." he manages to murmur, the word a tremor in the quiet room. Karen's eyes widen, her heart skipping a beat. "Lo..." he tries again, the syllable a whisper of hope. The room feels like it's expanding, the walls stretching with the weight of his effort. "Lo...ve," he finally says, the word a shaky but clear declaration. The air shimmers with the power of the spoken word, the love rock in Chip's hand feeling like it's vibrating with joy. Karen's eyes overflow with tears as she squeezes Plankton's hand, her voice choking with emotion. "Oh, honey," she says, her voice a gentle caress, "we know." Chip's own eyes sparkle with unshed tears, his voice trembling as he speaks. "We love you too, Daddy." "Lo...love," he manages to repeat, the word a treasure pulled from the depths of his mind. Chip feels a tear slide down his cheek, the love rock in his hand a warm emblem of victory. "You don't have to say it, Daddy," Chip says, his voice shaky but earnest. "We know." But Plankton's eye determined, the word 'love' a beacon he needs to reach. With a Herculean effort, he whispers, "Chip...Karen...love...you." The room is suffused with a warmth that feels like a sunrise, the shadows retreating to the corners. Karen stands with love for her family. She knows that this is just the beginning of their journey, that there will be more storms to weather. But with Chip by his side, she feels a glimmer of hope that Plankton's world will be a little less overwhelming.

GREAT CHIP ix (Autistic author) Chip took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "I know I can't fix you, Dad," he said, his voice shaking. Plankton's antennae stopped moving, his eye focusing on Chip with an intensity that made him feel like he was being x-rayed. "You can't," he said, his voice firm. "But you can support me. You can be there without trying to change me." Chip nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Okay," he managed to say. "But I want to understand. I want to be here for you." Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye narrowing slightly. "Understand?" he echoed, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Sure, it's easy. Just imagine your brain's a pinball machine on tilt. Sounds fun, right?" Chip felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth despite the tension, which only adds to Plankton's anger. "Well, when you put it that way..." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye squinting at his son's response. "What?" he barked, his voice sharp. Chip tried to hold onto his smile, his heart racing. "I mean, if it's like a pinball machine, I can learn the patterns," he said, his tone carefully light. "I'm pretty good at video games, so..." Plankton's antennae waved wildly, his eye flashing with anger. "You think this is a game?" he shouted, his voice filling the room. "You think I enjoy being out of control? WELL THEN PERHAPS YOU CAN EXPLAIN THE FUN OF FORGETTING WHERE I AM FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME!" Chip's smile dropped, his eyes wide with shock at his father's outburst. He took a step back, his hands up in a gesture of peace. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to make a joke of it, I just..." "You just what?" Plankton spat, his small body vibrating with rage. "You just don't get it! You can't get it! You're not autistic, you don't know what it's like to have your brain turn on you like that!" Chip's eyes filled with tears, his heart breaking at the accusation. "I know, Dad," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm trying." Plankton's antennae quivered with the force of his rage. "You don't know," he said, his voice cold. "You can't know. All I see is a little child playing pretend, thinking he can understand what I go through! And yet you're the one asking for help! Face it, you're never going to get it and so don't expect ME to explain it to you!" Chip's eyes watered, the words hitting like a sledgehammer. He had never seen his father so furious, so unyielding. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I just want to help." Plankton's antennae stopped their wild movements, his eye focusing on his son with a cold, calculating gaze. "Help?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You want to help by poking fun at my condition?" Chip's eyes searched his father's, his heart racing. "Dad, I didn't mean it like that," he said, his voice trembling. "I just wanted to lighten the mood." Plankton's antennae waved, his eye still cold and distant. "Don't," he said, his voice like ice. "Don't try to lighten it. And don't you DARE make fun of it." Chip's eyes fell to the floor, his heart aching with the weight of his father's anger. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I di-" "You're sorry?" Plankton's voice was a whip crack in the silence. "Sorry doesn't cut it!" He slammed his fist on the table, causing their plates to rattle. "You think an apology is enough when you belittle what I go through?" Chip's eyes widened with fear as his dad's anger grew. He'd never seen Plankton like this before, his tiny body trembling with rage, his antennae thrashing like live wires. The kitchen felt suffocatingly small, the walls closing in. "Dad, please," Chip begged, his voice shaking. "I didn't mean it that way." But Plankton was beyond listening, his tiny body vibrating with fury. "You don't get to make jokes about this!" he roared, his antennae whipping about like agitated snakes. "You don't get to reduce it to a game you can win with a simple joke!" Chip took another step back, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never seen his father this enraged, and it scared him. "Dad, I-" he began, but Plankton's tirade didn't stop. "You think it's funny?" Plankton shouted, his antennae a blur of motion. "You think it's fun to live with this?" His voice grew louder, his words sharper. "You think it's easy to lighten up at the drop of a hat?" Chip's eyes filled with tears as his father's anger grew, his voice crackling like static. He hadn't meant to make light of his dad's condition, but now it seemed as if he'd made everything worse. "I'm sorry," he choked out, his hands shaking. Plankton's antennae whipped around his head, his eye bulging. "Sorry won't make it go away!" he screamed, his voice bouncing off the walls. "You think you can make it better with a laugh?" He slammed his fist down again, the sound like a gunshot. "It's not a joke, Chip!" Chip's eyes filled with tears as he watched his father's outburst, his heart pounding. He had never seen Plankton like this, his anger a living, breathing thing that filled the room like a toxic cloud. "I know," he whispered, his voice shaking. "But I want to help." Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. "Help?" he spat, his voice a whip. "You want to help? Then stop making it about you!" Chip's eyes grew wide with fear as he watched his father's anger boil over, his voice shaking. "Dad, please," he whispered, his heart racing. Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly, his body vibrating with uncontrollable rage. Suddenly, he grabbed the coffee mug from the table, flinging it across the room where it shattered against the wall. Shards of ceramic flew everywhere, puncturing the silence like shrapnel. "Dad, no!" Chip yelled, his heart racing faster than it ever had before. He had never seen Plankton this out of control. And Karen knew she had to act fast. Her voice was calm but firm as she approached Plankton. "Sweetie, it's okay," she said, her hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "Let's go to your workshop. You know that's your safe space." Plankton's antennae thrashed, his eye darting around the room, seeking anything to target his anger. "I don't want to go anywhere!" he roared, his body shaking with the intensity of his emotions. "It's not okay!" Karen stepped closer, her voice steady. "It's okay to be upset," she said, her eyes never leaving his. "But Chip..." But Plankton's rage was unstoppable. He lunged for the nearest object, a framed photo of Chip, his grip tightening as he raised it over his head, ready to smash it against the floor. Karen's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to defuse the situation before it got any worse. "Plankton, no," she pleaded, her voice steady. "Please, don't." But Plankton's rage had taken over, his body moving on autopilot as he swung the photo frame with all his might. It crashed to the floor, the shattering glass echoing in the small room. Chip's eyes grew round with shock, his body frozen in place as he watched his father's tantrum unfold. "Dad, please stop!" he shouted, his voice cracking with fear. "You're scaring me!" But Plankton's rage was a runaway train, his antennae quivering with the intensity of his anger. He stomped over to the counter, grabbing a plate and flinging it against the wall, where it shattered into a hundred tiny pieces. The sound was deafening, the force of the impact sending a shiver down Chip's spine. Karen stepped in front of Chip, placing herself between him and the storm of Plankton's fury. "Stop," she said firmly, her voice a calm oasis in the chaos. "You're scaring him." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye focusing on Karen with a mix of anger and confusion. For a moment, his body seemed to pause, his arm still mid-air, a kitchen towel gripped tightly in his hand. Then, with a roar, he threw it, the soft fabric landing limply on the floor. Karen's eyes searched her husband's, seeing the turmoil behind the rage. "Please, Plankton," she said, her voice soothing. "Let's talk about this." But Plankton's anger was like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He picked up another mug, his arm winding up to throw it, when Chip suddenly stepped forward, his eyes locked on his father's. "Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "Please don't." Plankton's antennae paused, his arm still raised. "WHY?" he growled, his eye wild with anger. "You think you can just tell me what to do?" And then, with a sickly twisted satisfaction, Plankton hurled the mug in front of Chip, purposefully missing him. The room seemed to hold its breath as the mug spun through the air, the shattering of porcelain on the tile floor a symphony of pain. "Dad," Chip said, his voice shaking. "It's not about control. It's about us. Our fam..." But Plankton was beyond words, his rage a living entity that consumed him. He grabbed a toaster, his grip white-knuckled, and hurled it at the fridge, the metallic clang a cacophony in the small kitchen. "I DON'T NEED YOUR SYMPATHY!" he bellowed, his antennae a blur.

GREAT CHIP xi (Autistic author) After a moment, she turned and walked towards the workshop door, her steps slow and deliberate. She paused, her hand on the doorknob, looking back at Chip with a mixture of pain and resolve. "I'll check on your father," she said, her voice a whisper. "You... you clean up here." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving his mother's. He knew she was hurting too, but she was putting on a brave face for him. As she disappeared into the workshop, his heart felt like it was in a vice. He'd never seen his parents like this before. The kitchen was a mess of shattered dishes and splattered jelly, a stark contrast to the usually pristine space. He took a deep breath and began to collect the broken pieces, his mind racing with thoughts of his father's pain. Karen's footsteps were quiet as she approached the workshop, the door slightly ajar. She could hear Plankton's muffled sobs from inside, his tiny body hunched over his workbench. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she might find. The room was a whirlwind of half-finished inventions, wires and gadgets scattered about. Her heart broke at the sight of her husband, the usually stoic and resourceful Plankton, reduced to a tiny, shaking figure, his antennae drooped like the wilted leaves of a forgotten houseplant. "Plankton?" Karen's voice was a soft whisper, cutting through the quiet. He didn't look up, his sobs the only sound in the cluttered room. Slowly, she approached, her eyes taking in the chaos around them. "Honey," she began, her voice trembling. "I know you're upset, but..." Plankton's sobs grew louder, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. Karen reached out, her hand hovering over his shoulder, uncertain whether to touch him. Finally, she decided that in this moment, space was what he needed most. She stood there, a silent sentinel, her presence a gentle reminder that she was there for him. "Plankton," she said softly, her voice a balm in the storm of his rage. "Can I get you anything?" Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his tiny frame heaving with the weight of his emotions. "No," he said, his voice muffled. Karen took a step closer, her hand still hovering. "Do you want me to stay?" she asked, her tone gentle. Plankton's antennae twitched, his head nodding slightly. It was the barest of movements, but it spoke volumes to Karen. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, careful not to press too hard. He stiffened at first, but then, ever so slightly, leaned into her. Her embrace was gentle, her touch like a soft breeze, offering comfort without smothering his pain. "I always love you." The words hung in the air, their quiet strength a stark contrast to the chaos of the kitchen. Plankton felt his body begin to relax, his sobs easing as Karen's warmth seeped in. He took a deep, shuddering breath, his antennae drooping. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to... I don't know..." Karen's grip tightened, her hand sliding up to cradle his head. "It's okay," she soothed, her voice a gentle lullaby. Plankton's antennae twitched nervously against her, but he didn't pull away. He knew she was there for him, even when his own mind was a tempest of confusion. "You don't have to apologize," Karen whispered. Her words were a balm to Plankton's raw nerves, and he leaned into her embrace. She knew he was sensitive post-episode, his emotions like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap. Her heart ached for him, for the fear and frustration he felt in those moments. Karen's eyes scanned the room, noticing the chaos of Plankton's workshop, his mind's refuge. Usually, the disarray was organized, each gear and wire in its place. Now, it was as though a tornado had swept through, leaving a trail of half-finished inventions in its wake. Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his body still tense under her touch. "I just... I don't want you to look at me and see something broken and unlovable.." Karen's eyes filled with tears. "You are you, and that is all I've ever loved." The words hung in the air, a gentle rebuttal to the harshness of the earlier scene. Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his breathing evening out. Chip hovered at the entrance, his heart a tumultuous sea of regret and fear. He'd hurt his father, and he didn't know how to fix it. He took a tentative step into the workshop, his eyes scanning the room. The mess was a stark reminder of the turmoil Plankton was feeling, and it only served to amplify Chip's own guilt. He watched his mother's careful movements, her gentle touch, and he desperately wanted to do the same.

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r/shortscarystories 8 hr. ago k_g_lewis The Family Secret The red-headed girl in the summer dress stepped into the old man’s room. When he didn’t acknowledge her presence, she cleared her throat. The man looked up from the puzzle he was building, gasping and clutching his chest when he saw the child, “Autumn?” he whispered, “Is that really you?” “Hello, Grandpa,” Autumn smiled. “What are you doing here?” he asked. Autumn crossed the room until she was standing in front of her grandfather. “I’m here because I need your help,” she replied. The grandfather stared at her for a moment before turning his attention back to his puzzle. “There’s nothing I can do to help you,” he said. “That’s a lie and you know it,” Autumn snapped at him. “Please go,” he whined, “You shouldn’t be here.” “I’ve got nowhere else to go,” Autumn said, “That’s why I need your help.” The grandfather ignored her, reaching a remote on the table next to his puzzle. Once it was in his hand, he pressed the large button to call the nurse. A minute later, one of the nurses walked into the room. “What can I do for you, Mr. Sinclair?” the nurse asked. “I would like her to leave,” he pointed at Autumn. “You’d like who to leave?” the nurse looked around the room, “There’s nobody in here but you.” “You know she can’t see me,” Autumn said, “Only you can because you know what happened to me.” “No,” her grandfather shook his head, “No, I don’t.” “Are you okay, Mr. Sinclair?” the nurse asked, “Should I call your son?” “No,” he snapped, “Don’t call him. I’m fine.” “Are you sure?” “I’m positive,” he insisted, “You can go.” “Okay,” the nurse turned and left the room. Autumn stood there, staring at her grandfather. “Stare all you like,” he said, continuing to work on his puzzle, “I can’t help you. In a rage, Autumn swept the half-finished puzzle off the table. “If you ever want to see Grandma again, you’ll do the right thing and help me,” she spat the words out. Tears started to fall from his eyes. Seeing his resistance starting to crack, Autumn continued. “You’ll never get to if you don’t tell someone what happened to me.” “But I didn’t have anything to do with it,” her grandfather insisted, “Your father is the one who needs to confess, not me.” “What did my father do to me?” Autumn whispered. Her grandfather poured his heart out, telling her everything that happened to her. “I’m sorry,” were the last words he said. “That’s all we wanted to hear,” the girl pretending to be Autumn reached up and pulled the wig off her head. A moment later the nurse walked back into the room, but she wasn’t really a nurse. When she returned to the room, she had a police badge hanging around her neck. “That was an Oscar-worthy performance,” she said, putting her arms around the girl’s shoulders and leading her into the hall.

GAS or APPENDICITIS? https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/what-does-appendicitis-feel-like Most people recover well if they receive a diagnosis and treatment early enough. Most people with temporary mild-to- moderate abdominal pain have gas or symptoms of indigestion. If the pain is mild to moderate, improves over time, and feels as if it is moving through the intestines, it could instead be signs of gas. Typically, appendicitis will start with pain that may come and go in the middle of the tummy. Within hours, the pain will travel to the lower right side of the abdomen and become constant and severe. However, the risk of rupture is relatively rare after 36 hours. If a person has severe pain in the lower right of their abdomen, pain that worsens when moving or touching the abdomen, as well as other symptoms such as fever and nausea, it could indicate appendicitis. Risk factors for appendicitis include: Age: Most people get appendicitis at 10–20 years of age. Sex: Evidence notes that those assigned male at birth (AMAB) are slightly more likelyTrusted Source to develop appendicitis than those assigned female at birth (AFAB). Low fiber diet: A low fiber diet can potentially cause fats, undigested fiber, and inorganic salts to build up in the appendix and cause inflammation or obstruction. Genes: Some studies suggest that genetics can play a role in appendicitis. A 2018 population study notes that individuals with a family history of appendicitis have a higher risk of appendicitis. A surgeon will usually perform appendectomy using one of two procedures: open surgery or laparoscopic surgery. To address complications, healthcare professionals may also use other treatments, such as: antibiotics removing infected abdominal tissue draining pus from the abscess or infection site blood transfusions intravenous electrolyte or fluid therapy Some individuals with appendicitis may haveTrusted Source an inability to pass gas, which is the source of discomfort when a person has gas. With gas, people may have the sensation that gas is moving through the intestines, they may feel mild-to-moderate pain anywhere in the abdomen, and discomfort will usually resolve quickly after passing gas. However, with appendicitis, pain typically starts in the middle of the abdomen, then travels to the lower right-hand side of the abdomen, where it becomes severe and constant. Warning signs typically progress in the following order: sudden pain that begins near the belly button pain that intensifies over time and moves to the lower right of the abdomen lack of energy and loss of appetite worsening symptoms, which can include nausea, constipation, inability to pass gas, and diarrhea fever The most common symptom of appendicitis is abdominal pain. Other possible symptoms of appendicitis can includeTrusted Source: loss of appetite nausea and vomiting diarrhea constipation unexplained exhaustion excessive gas or inability to pass gas swelling in the abdomen fever increased urinary frequency and urgency pain while extending the right leg or the right hip https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/what-does-appendicitis-feel-like

https://www.wikihow.com/Sleep-with-Stomach-Pain

M*rdered with a Needle. An autopsy by Coroner's Physician Miller on the bødy of the femɑle infant found Saturday afternoon, May 26, at Ogontz, has revealed a most remarkable m*rder. The babe was kılled by a lon̛g needle thrust into ıt's brαin. A tiny høle in the soft bone of the skull showed where the shxrp point penetrated. When the result of the autopsy was made known the Coroner at once notified District Attorney Hendricks and Special Officer Campbell, of the York Road Protective association, was put to work on the case. Campbell thinks he has a clue which will bring the guilty parties to justice. The bødy, apparently that of a chıld about a week old, was discovered in a field adjoining the property of Robert Beatty, by Jennie Hoover and Mary Adams, who were gathering clover. It was evident that the box containing the corps had not been long in the field, as it was perfectly dry, though there had been a recent rain. James Gibson, coachman for Mr. Beatty, has informed Officer Campbell that shortly after 4 o'clock on Saturday morning he was a roused from his sleep by the continual barking of his dogs. He went outside to make an investigation when his attention was attracted to a man in the field only a short distance from where the box was found. Mr. Gibson is of the opinion that the box was placed in the field at that time. [Source: Ambler Gazette, June 7, 1900, p. 6. Submitted by Nancy.]

Consider these tips to mentally prepare for your exam: Use relaxation techniques or distraction. Relaxation techniques, such as deep breathing, guided imagery and mindfulness, can be beneficial leading up to and during your exam. Also, throughout the exam, you can close your eyes, inhale through your nose for four seconds and then exhale through your mouth for four seconds. You may want to listen to music or watch a video to distract your mind. You also can bring a partner, family member or friend to talk to during the process. Talk to your health care provider. Let your provider know you are nervous and explain how you are feeling. Ask as many questions as you need and seek advice on how to make the exam easier, such as different positions and/or using a smaller speculum to ease discomfort or pain. You can ask your provider to talk you through the exam step by step so that you are prepared for what is about to happen. If you have health anxiety, fear of the unknown or body dysmorphia, it's important to let your provider know so he or she can help you through the exam. Say "stop" if you are in pain. You can ask your provider to stop at any time if you are uncomfortable or in pain. Reward your efforts. Congratulate yourself on what you have achieved by doing something that makes you happy, such as going to lunch with a friend, watching a movie or reading a new book.

My friend was talking to a guy on the internet who started threatening that he would come to her house and hurt her. She has 3 little brothers, all of whom slept on her floor and outside her door for a week with nerf guns and water guns to make their big sister feel safe. Kids like this GMH Sunday, Oct 31 2010 •

GivesMeHope A few months ago, my dad and I were visiting New York. We saw a homeless mother with 3 young kids sitting by a doorway of a store. While the children were bundled up warm, the mother had only a thin flimsy jacket. Seeing this, my dad handed her a $100 bill, telling her to buy herself a coat. She cried from happiness. My dad’s generosity GMH. Mar 3rd, 2010

December 15, 2013 A Special Needs Family isn't always blood; it's the people in life who celebrate your joys, understand your pain, who love to see you smile, and those who wipe away the tears

Art by Joan G. Stark . |___________________________________ |-----|- - -|''''|''''|''''|''''|''''|'##\|__ |- - | cc 6 5 4 3 2 1 # # # __]==---------------------- |-----|________________________________ # # / | 'jgs |"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""`

Just today, I found out the real reason of my parents’ deaths‎ when I was 10. When our car lost ıt's brakes and was going to crash, they tried to protect me at the last minute. Their bødies were found, covering me while I was non-conscious. Their never ending love truly GMH.

The woest pain a mother can go theough is having to give her blessing back to Heaven... February 6, 2014

r/TwoSentenceHorror 12 hr. ago CalebVanPoneisen ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ Stinging paın jolts me awake, but my broken bødy reminds me that I did survive the plane crash. Dozens of exotic snails are grazing my motionless bødy, slowly tearing into my flesh, while I can do nothing but silently witness my torment..

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare Someone broke into our home It was every family's nightmare. My wife and I had the day off work, and we had taken our son out for lunch and some family bonding time. But as we approached our home, something felt off. I had a growing sense of dread the closer we got. As our house came into view, I could see that the front door was wide open. Someone had broken into our home. I told my family to wait outside, in case the intruder was still inside. They obliged, and I slowly and silently made my way through our house. As I stepped into the living room, I saw broken furniture, nothing in its correct place, just utter chaos. Was this person looking for something? Did they have malicious intent? Why our home? Why us? Next, I walked to our kitchen. The fridge had been emptied. Dishes and food were thrown all over the room. What kind of person had broken into our home? A homeless person who just needed food? If so, why had they destroyed the living room? That's when I heard it. Footsteps in the bedroom. The intruder was still in our house. I took a brief moment to be grateful that I had asked my wife and son to wait outside. It was impossible to decipher this person's motives so far. But I was about to come face to face with the person that forcefully entered our home. And I would demand answers. I crept toward the bedroom slowly, slowly. I approached the door, and focused on the sliver of light slipping through the crack. I could see faint shadows dancing in the light. I raised my hand, placed it against the door, and took a deep breath, readying myself for whatever may be on the other side. I pushed the door open and stepped through the threshold with authority. I couldn't believe my eyes. I actually rubbed my hands over them, thinking I was imagining things. There, in my son's bed, was a young girl with curly blonde hair. She stared at me with wide eyes. She must have been terrified. I must have been a few feet taller and at least 100 pounds heavier than her. I must have been a sight to see for that little girl. But she should have considered that before breaking into my home. I called my wife and son to see what I found. "Is that a human, Papa?" "Why yes it is, Baby Bear. That's dinner."

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Losing Carrie Carrie’s parents were deep in mourning They had lost their daughter, without warning Her mom moaned and wailed in deep sorrow Her dad would call the funeral home tomorrow Her mom looked down and in her head She wondered, if Carrie could, what she would have said If she could speak to them now, reach into their hearts Tell them how they would cope, where could they start? Her father looked down also and in his head His mind was racing with a sense of dread See, if Carrie could talk what she really would have said Is, ‘Mom, please help me, he knows I’m not dead.’

My little sister's boyfriend dumped her the week of their senior prom. When my boyfriend heard of this, he drove 7 hours from where we go to college so he could take her to the dance. Everyone there was jealous...especially her ex. His love for me and my family GMH. September 8th, 2010, 9:53 AM

My grandfather recently died, and as we were going through his stuff he had THOUSANDS of pictures of my grandmother. Pictures of her sitting there, eating, smiling, laughing. She said he would follow her around with a camera so he wouldn’t miss a single time she smiled. His love for her GMH. June 19th, 2010, 1:37 AM

DOCTORs APPOINTMENTs Before a procédure, get to meet the physıcıans and acknowledge their authority before you mention your sensitivities. Find a way to make a compromise. Even request more time for an appointment if you want to have topical numbing agents wait to work, to discuss alternatives, etc. Before a procédure, look up the physıcıans and/or the clınıcal website. Find pictures of the inner building and search for FAQ, policies, procedures, reviews, etc. Before a procédure, bring a fully charged phone and any sensory necessities such as plastic cups for water, ice pack, self testing kits, written notes and copies, etc. TIPS For CHECKs Feel the instruments and get comfortable with them. Ex: at the dentist, you’re weary of the suction straw. If no plastic cups for rinsing, ask them for some or, have them turn the suction on a low setting and feel it with your fıngers before they use it in your møuth. Perhaps they can put something on if you don’t like the suck¡ng nóise. See how you feel with the specific docтor. Ex: Dr. A seems hurried and strict, but Dr. B seems more empathetic. Or perhaps ask if a nurse can be in the room with you to. Try having the docтor teach you how much you can do. Ex: for a strep thr*at test, ask if you can swab your own thr*at, even have them hold your hand whilst you do it in a mirror. Or tell them the way your thr*at structure may find it easier to tilt, etc. (my search NeuroFabulous)

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 min. ago AcrobaticTransition4 “My lower back hurt” I told the chiropractor Then I heard a snap and then all the pain has been permanently alleviated as i bent slumped over feeling nothing...

Messages Mom Feb 22, 2012 7:06 AM Good morning beautiful :) xoxo your imaginary boyfriend Thanks mom. >

Mom Today 14 oct 10:58 AM Sorry Mom, called you by accident! That's okay Had vou by accident

Sat June 26th, 2010 at 8:56pm There's a homeless man that comes to church at least once a day. He always sits in the back and prays and sings alone. One day, my daughter got up and left our pew, grabbed this man’s hand, & led him to our pew and told him “no one should have to pray alone.” Her acceptance & love for everyone GMH

March 27th, 2010, 4:37 PM A few years ago, I was with my parents grocery shopping. My mom told my dad to “go and pick up anything he wants”. Without a word, he picked up my mom. Their LGMH.

owlet: i think it’s importaпt to acknowledge that there is a contingent of doctors who have been… uh… coasting ever since med school ended. here’s a quick crash c̀ourse in telling them apart competent doctor: recognises that your sympt0ms sound familiar but also realises that the illness is outside the scope of their expertise, so they give you a referral incompetent doctor: doesn’t recognise your sympt0ms, chalks it all up to a m3ntal health and/or weıght prxblem and refuses any follow-up care competent doctor: stays up to date on the latest research in their field, is interested in sharing newly-discovered ınformαtıon with you incompetent doctor: maintains the absolute minimum amount of knowledge to not have their licence revoked competent doctor: approaches their patients with good faith incompetent doctor: assumes all patients are deceptive and have ulterior motives competent doctor: recognises crying and other overt paın sympt0ms as unacceptable and tries to resolve your paın any way they’re able incompetent doctor: ignores paın and either refuses to attempt to treat yours or willingly worsens it during a treatment by ignoring your reactions competent doctor: realises they don’t have all the answers, isn’t intimidated by the thought that you attend other doctors incompetent doctor: views their patients as income-generators and feels personally insulted when you attempt to leave their practise competent doctor: recognises all their patients are people; will be transparent about your treatment and speak to you with advanced and specific terminology if you demonstrate that you úndèrständ incompetent doctor: views patients as a sub-class of people, justifies lying to patients as “for their own goo͠d” (via intp-fluffy-robot) Jan 08, 2022

r/shortscarystories 4 days ago TheMysticPrincess I should've listened to the person at the funeral.... My grandma loved crafts; knitting, stitching, sewing, embroidery, if it involved yarn or thread, it was something she loved, and I loved watching it. Whenever I went to her house, I'd spend hours watching her craft while she told me stories. One of her favorite things to craft were dolls, specifically felt dolls with button eyes. They were all different in sizes, shapes, colors, clothing, but the one thing they had in common was that they always had an image embroidered in them over the heart; the images varied from cars to bottles to apples and many of them she made of people she knew. They were also her favorite things to give to people. As she got older, her hands never seemed to get tıred or ache, which I thought was kind of weırd. She told me it was because of all her crafting that her hands were so strong. I was just a kid, so I believed her. I mean there wasn't any other explanation, right? I also began to notice whenever grandma gave someone a doll, they'd have this look of....panic in their eyes. I never asked why. I didn't think it was any of my business. The inevitable day came and we had to bury her. There weren't a lot of people at the funerαl, which was odd; grandma knew and befriended a lot of people during her life, surely they wouldn't miss this for the world. I decided to talk to one of the few who did show up; I mentioned it and they replied "....I'm guessing no one ever told you." They explained that each time she'd sew a lookalike and give it to someone, they'd die the next day. A gîrl who had tried to seduce grandpa got one with the patch of a car; she ended up getting into a car crash and didn't make it. Someone who had called her a pig and tried to stuff an apple in her mouth got one with an apple; a piece of one got lodged in their trachea and they couldn't get it out in time. Her best friend who was moving away got a glass of filtered water; the autopsy showed cyanide in her b!ood. They told me more of these, but I brushed them off as coincidences; there's no way a doll could ķíľľ people. Even if it was true, it'd be over nơw. Years later my mother diεd in her sleep, leaving me alonȩ with the house. After the funerαl, I was cleaning up her things when I found something in the bed that made my b!ood run cøld; a lookalike doll with 3 Zs as a patch over the heart. Which leads me to now; yesterday I found a doll outside my door and it looks like me. Over the heart is a patch of a kn*fe. I mean, it's weird, but I don't think it's anything to woŗry̕ ....Why did I just hear the front door open?

Memory Foam Nov 10th, 2015 Memory Foam "There's monsters under my bed!" Jimmy screamed throwing himself between his startled parents. Mommy wrapped him up while Daddy offered assurances that monsters weren't real. Jimmy pleaded with him to go make sure so he pulled himself up and plodded down the hall. All was well until they heard a loud thumping noise followed by silence. Jimmy's mother decided to check on her husband, leaving Jimmy alone in the dark. Jimmy heard the creaks of the floor and another loud thump; then silence. Jimmy lay there, hoping that his imagination was just running wild. He decided to go and find out what was going on. Tiptoeing his way around the creaking floorboards he peeked in through the keyhole to see his mother wiping the floor and his father leaned over his bed. Jimmy opened the door slowly. His mother hopped up, hiding her hands behind her back. "Sorry ," she said to him gently. "Your father slipped on a toy and tore your bed. He's sewing it back up and I'm just cleaning up." His dad finished and walked over to him. "Why don't you sleep with us tonight champ?" he said, as he picked him up. Jimmy fell asleep easily, safely tucked between his parents. Jimmy's parents seemed odd the next day. After dinner they put him to bed without a word. He realized that his bed felt very lumpy and wondered if his father had re-sewn it incorrectly. He went to find his parents, but the door was locked. He banged on it, but eventually made his way back to his lumpy bed and fell asleep. He questioned his parents the next morning about the bed and the door and his father sternly replied that he was too old to be afraid of monsters and they would be locking him in his room at night until he had gotten over it. That night was cold and sleep did not come quickly. Laying under his blanket he noticed that even with the fan blowing, something was beginning to smell. He tried to ignore it, but ended up sleeping on the floor. He convinced his parents to check his bed the following morning, but they found no smell or strange lumps. For lying, his father locked Jimmy in his room for the day. Time passed slowly and by late afternoon Jimmy was nauseous with hunger, made worse by the potent smell coming from his bed in the afternoon heat. Determined to find the smell, he cut open the line of stitching his father had sewn. There, surrounded by stuffing, were the decaying but recognizable, b0dies of his parents. He began to scream at the sight of their rotting skin. He kept screaming until a knock came on the door. "Jimmy? Are you okay?" Came his mother's voice, then his father's, "Remember Jimmy, there are no monsters under the bed." honeybadgerme2

Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs: [ɢᴀsᴘs] SᴘᴏɴɢᴇBᴏʙ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪs ᴇʏᴇ. SᴘᴏɴɢᴇBᴏʙ: Tʜᴀᴛ's Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ's ʀᴀʀᴇʟʏ sᴇᴇɴ sɪɴᴄᴇʀᴇ ғᴀᴄᴇ, Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs, ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴs ғᴏʀ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜᴇ ɪs ᴛᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ. Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs: [ᴛᴇᴀʀʏ ᴇʏᴇᴅ] SᴘᴏɴɢᴇBᴏʙ: Aᴡᴡ. Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs: [sᴏʙs] Aʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛ, I ʙᴜʏ ɪᴛ. [SᴘᴏɴɢᴇBᴏʙ ɢᴀsᴘs] Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ: Tʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ. Mʀ. Kʀᴀʙs: Nᴏᴡ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ, ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ— [sᴛᴀᴍᴍᴇʀs] Pʟᴀɴᴋᴛᴏɴ's ʙᴏss.

Today was my birthday. My daughter came running into my room and said she had a surprise for me. As I stepped out of my room, I started to cry and she screamed "Do you like it?" It was my husband, home from Iraq - just for my birthday. Dan and Julia, your gift and love for me GMH. June 21st, 2010, 3:30 PM

April 30th, 2010, 8:14 PM Today, my mom had a baby girl. Girl, no boy will ever hurt you, 'cause if they do, you have 9 older brothers who will ruin the chances of that kid ever reproducing. Love, your eldest brother. LGMH

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Sedation Today, physicians have many ways to make sure their patıents are as comfortable as possible during surgery or procedures for diagnosing medical conditions. One common type of pain control is called sedation, which relaxes you and sometimes makes you fall asleep. Sedation, also known as monitored anesthesia care, conscious sedation, or twilight sedation, typically is used for minor surgeries or for shorter, less complex procedures, when an injection of local anesthetic isn’t sufficient but deeper general anesthesia isn’t necessary. Depending on the procedure, the level of sedation may range from minimal (you’ll feel drowsy but able to talk) to deep (you probably won’t remember the procedure). What are the levels of sedation? The level of sedation a patient experiences depends on several factors, including the type of procedure you’re having and how your body responds to anesthesia. Your age, medical condition, and health habits may also affect the type of anesthesia you’ll receive. Regardless of the level of sedation, it’s important that an anesthesiologist be involved in your anesthesia care. An anesthesiologist is a medical doctor who specializes in anesthesia, paın management, and critical care medicine. That can happen if you are sedated to a point where you are confused or fall asleep and snore. For some procedures, you may receive medication that makes you sleepy and keeps you from feeling pain. There are different levels of sedation — some patients are drowsy, but they are awake and can talk; others fall asleep and don’t remember the procedure. The main levels of sedation are: Minimal – Minimal sedation will help you relax, but you will likely be awake. You’ll understand questions your doctor is asking and be able to answer as well as follow directions. This level of sedation is typically used when your doctor needs you to be involved in the procedure. Moderate – You will feel drowsy and may even fall asleep during the procedure. You may or may not remember some of the procedure. Deep – You won’t actually be unconscious, but you’ll sleep through the procedure and probably will have little or no memory of it. How does general anesthesia work? Under general anesthesia, you will be unconscious and unaware of what is happening. General anesthesia keeps you unconscious during the entire procedure. General anesthesia causes you to lose consciousness. General anesthesia is medicine that is administered by an anesthesiologist, a medical doctor, through a mask or an IV placed in the vein. While the anesthesia is working, you will be unconscious, and many of your body’s functions will slow down or need help to work effectively. During surgery, the anesthesiologist will monitor your vital signs to make sure they are normal and steady while you remain unconscious and free of paın. Once your surgery is complete, your anesthesiologist will reverse the medication and be with you as you return to consciousness and wake up, continually monitoring your breathing, circulation, and oxygen levels. It may take a day or two for the anesthesia medication to completely leave your system, so you could be sleepy, and your reflexes and judgment can be affected by Postoperative delirium – Confusion when regaining consciousness after surgery.

ᴸᵉᵍ ᵘᵖ pt. 4 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵖᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ ˡᵉᵍ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ˢʷⁱʳˡᵉᵈ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ 'ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ⸴ ˢⁱᵗ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ‽' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵃᵈʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ‧‧‧' ᔆᵉᵐⁱ⁻ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵍⁿᵒʳᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ!' ᵀʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵈⁱᵈ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ!' ᴱᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉⁿᵛᵉˡᵒᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵇᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ!" ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴳᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ʷᵃˢʰᶜˡᵒᵗʰ; ʰᵘʳʳʸ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵉˡˡˢ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʷᵒʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱⁿᶜᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿˢᵉⁿˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵈʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵃⁱᵈ ᵏⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ⸴ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᵉˢ‧" ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘˢᵃᵇˡᵉ/ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵈʷⁱⁿᵈˡᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ᵐ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ?" ᴴᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ᵍˡᵃᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ; ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵃⁱʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴵᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ?" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳ‧ "ᴳⁱᵛᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵃʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ ᶠᵒʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ‧ end finale

Horror Confessions @Horror_Fessions "When I was 8 I would hear what seemed like a younger girl calling for me in my back yard, my mom decided to ask around to see if any young boys had the same name as I did, turns out 8 years prior, a girl and her brother with the same name as I were murdered in a courtyard behind our house."

I was visiting my 90 yr old grandparents, when my grandmother mentioned they’d just celebrated 65 years of marriage last month. I said, “That’s a lot of years!” My grandfather replied, “Not nearly enough!” Loving each other from WWII til today GMH. Dec 1st, 2014